Blushing Drawing Novels & Stories

Walking past him, I started towards an unfinished drawing of a woman's face. "This is new." I turned around to face him. "I didn't see this last time I was here." "Yeah," he let out a soft sigh. "It's one of our final projects in school before graduation. I'm trying to make it as artistic as possible but a simple woman just seems too plain." Looking back at the painting, I study the details. Her full red lips, small pointed nose, eyes fallen shut with feathery lashes. Her skin was like a rainbow, colored in several colors. Her hands hugged her bare breast.

The yellow changed into soft gold, and I added more black lines around it, but the lines looked more like cracks, or maybe… like broken glass. I didn’t know why. But the image of Aidan’s face flashed in my mind. The way he looked scared. The way he begged me to stay away. And then, Raven’s cold eyes as they looked at me. Before I realized it, I had drawn a silhouette of a man behind the dress. His face wasn’t clear, it was just hidden in shadow. But he looked like he was watching from far away. I stared at my sketch, and came back to my senses. What the hell was I drawing?

Firm. I closed my eyes. I tried to paint in my mind. The lines were still wrong. I opened my eyes. She was licking my underarm now. Her tongue traced the muscle. The hair. The scent of me. She moaned against my skin. Her hand never stopped stroking my cock. I reached for the sketchpad beside the bed. Charcoal in my other hand. I started to draw her. The line came out clean. Sharp. Alive. I drew her eyes. The way they looked up at me. Endearing. Devoted. I drew her mouth. The way her lips wrapped around my balls. I drew her hair. The way it fell across her shoulder as she licked my underarm.

Soon, Blake's image began to emerge: his strong jawline with its light beard, the wisps of hair that fell over his brow, his eyes raptly focused on the book in front of him. "There." Her voice was satisfied. She'd been drawing for half an hour. Blake's expression was interested. "Let's see." Shasta moved his book and sat on his lap, allowing him to peer over her shoulder at the drawing. Reaching around her, he held the sketchpad, tilting it so that he could see it clearly. He'd forgotten the drawing he'd seen the day after the storm when he'd packed up her things. This one was as good, if not better. She'd captured his physical appearance, but there was something about the way she dre

"There's no way I look like that. You look like you're being castrated right now." "Here's a better representation," There's a short stick laying between us and I pick it up, drawing the shape of a human face on the beach sand. I start out by drawing out two 'o's as the eyes with curved brows at the top. A small triangle is drawn next to display his small but pointy nose, and then lastly, strike out a straight horizontal line as his mouth. Noah stares at the silly drawing on the sand that now looks like a hairless mutant and raises a curved brow. "It's missing both ears."

I let go, let the bond slip through my fingers, wade back out of the strange, dark place until Cadoc is a stern, menacing male again with cold, blank eyes. I gnaw my lower lip. “I can’t help blushing, you know. It’s not a disease or anything.” The crease appears between his eyebrows. “If you were wondering—it’s fine. Just a blush.” I poke a spot under my clavicle to show him how my skin blanches white. When my arm moves, I flash the very top of my left nipple. He licks his lips, and then he shakes himself, finally dropping his hands from my elbows.

“It really looks like Ezra, even without color.” I tilt my head to inspect the drawing. “You really think so?” Arthur hums and points at the line where the neck meets the shoulder. “You even got how his left shoulder sits higher than his right.” Despite myself, I can’t quite help the way my cheeks flush ever so slightly from the praise. I glance up to see that Arthur is no longer looking at the drawing, but rather at me now. Blushing even more deeply, I quickly turn away, busying myself with putting away my charcoals for the night.

The drawings were all created using pencils, and one of them depicted a naked woman. The thought of how many naked women Jared had drawn crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. The drawing was truly beautiful. The lines and curves of the woman's body were perfectly executed, making it seem as if I were looking at a real person instead of a drawing. "This is amazing, Jared," I said, not just trying to be polite, but genuinely impressed. Jared brushed off my compliment and continued to flip through the pages, showing me more drawings of naked women. I noticed that their faces were purposely blurred out, and I couldn't help but ask.

his shameless comment successfully put a red blush on cheeks making his husky grin grow bigger. taking advantage of my distraction he pushed me off of him and pinned me down getting on top of me making me gasp at the sudden intimidate position and blushed even more. He moved closer making my eyes go wide. "I love the blushing you lemon. epically when it's the blush i put on!"

Victory pudding. Amara laughed softly and typed back: Tell him I love him. A minute later, another message appeared: He knows. But I’ll tell him anyway. She folded the shawl closer around her, then reached for her pencil. She didn’t draw a face this time. She started with a swirl—bold strokes of gold, deep reds curling into soft blues. An emotional portrait. The baby’s heartbeat, perhaps. Or her own. Still beating. Still holding. On the next page, she drew two hands—one steady, one trembling—reaching. Not yet touching. Just... almost.