Bruce Timm Nude Art Novels & Stories

The sun beat down on Rome’s head and shoulders, the blue ocean in front of him twinkling as the waves rolled against the yacht. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, not sure what to do. It was evident Tim was not in a compromising mood, nor was he feeling friendly. Rome had attempted to speak to him, to congratulate him on getting the role, but Tim blew him off and walked away. While almost everyone else was wearing swim trunks and T-shirts that could come off once they reached the point in the ocean where Wynnie had mentioned stopping the yacht for some time in the water, Tim was wearing pants and a button-down shirt over a T-shirt, and if Rome wasn’t mistaken, there was a bulge in hi

Timothy shouted unexpectedly. Bruce lifted an eyebrow, tapping his chin with the tip of the knife. It left streaks of blood on his messy beard. “Oh, really? How’s that motorcycle treating you?” "I made mistakes in the past," Timothy admitted, his voice steady. "But I've changed, and I deeply regret how I treated Evie." Bruce scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Changed, huh? That's hard to believe. I still your face plastered on the news with a new bitch on your arm every week."

“I’m sorry. I’m an Alpha. It’s in my nature, and despite everything, you’re still… my mate.” My cheeks heat a little at the reminder, but I shake my head again. “Get a grip on yourself next time. Ezra just wanted a portrait done to give to his girlfriend. If you consider that sexual, then you’ll be furious to find out that I drew fully nude men multiple times in college.” Arthur clears his throat. “You have?” I nod, glancing at him. “Yes. It’s common in figure drawing. It’s good to draw the body uninhibited by clothes, so that you can get a good grasp of the skeletal and muscular structure. I’ve drawn nude women, too.”

“I got a call from your uncle today about some picture you posted, so I go online to see. Sidney Laurie, why are you naked and covered in blood on the internet?” Sidney threw her head back and let it bounce on the couch cushion repeatedly. She pinched her nose harder this time, until it hurt. “Mom, we’ve been over this.” Sidney heard the whine in her voice and how much it sounded like her son when he was hungry. “I still don’t understand, Sid,” her mother began her speech. “Getting bloody is for a crime scene. It is not art. You can’t say it’s art. I know what Brady says, and he’s a very nice boy, but there’s no reason to produce obscene stuff like that. Honestly, Sidney, are you trying to e

Justin has a pencil drawing of Olima's pretty face before, and all his drawings of her were all pretty. He wished he could bring her into his bedroom and show her all the silly images of her that he had drawn out before he brought her to live in their guest house. Justin usually draws images of Olima, both pencil and oil paintings of her smiling face, her sad face, and how her big brown eyes shine at him in surprise. He drew a recent image of her too, and he couldn't wait for her to fully mature, as he plans to draw a nude image of her too.

It was a sketch of a boy, laying down on a bed with his arm over the covers that went up to his chest, revealing the strong muscles of his naked arm, the other resting on the pillow, next to his face. Though the rest of his upper body was hidden by the covers. His neck was painted with hickeys, adam's apple drawn with a lot of detail, his face was resting on the pillow, cheek slightly squished against it. He looked tranquil, his mouth hung slightly open and eyes closed, hair sticking up in every direction cutely. With a more observant eye at the beautiful artwork, Nathan was able to recognise himself in the drawing, his unique lips, the mole under his bottom lip, his piercings...

I've always been a struggling artist, scraping by with sketches and commissions, but today was different,my first real nude piece, and I was desperate to get it right. The pressure was on; rent was due, and my portfolio needed something bold to catch a gallery's eye. That's where Sarah came in, my best friend since college, always the reliable one. She'd agreed to be my muse, saying it was no big deal, but as she stood in my cluttered studio, the air thick with the smell of turpentine and old canvases, I realized just how big of a deal it was going to be.