Novel & Cerita Dope Drawings

Half-finished profiles, small studies of my mouth, my knuckles. He didn't just draw my hands. He drew the veins on my forearm. He drew the calluses on my fingers. He drew the scar on my left palm. I feel something in my chest lurch. This isn't a sketch book. It's an obsession, and I’m so here for it. I flip a page and my breath stills in my throat. It’s me, drawn from the side, on my knees. My head is bowed, my hands clasped behind my back. It’s not last night. It’s from a drill. But the focus he’s captured is all sex. The tension in my spine, the line of my ass.

I never once thought he knew. He then smiled, and it was a hundred times brighter than the moonlight. Finally, he turned his head to me, and I became lost in his glowing yellow eyes. I thought it was a dream, but when I woke up, I found myself cuddling his furry and gigantic beast in a cave. ****** It was time for me to go home after spending the night with him. I watched as he shifted into his second striking form. It was so fast that my normal sight was unable to catch up with it. I turned my back as he was naked.

Gratefully. "Did you work on anything?" asks Dane. "As in art homework?" I ask back. "Yeah." "I did the ten sketches, if that's what you're talking about," I say as I pull out my book. Opening it up to the page, I show him. "I like that one," says Dane as he points at one that I made of Rupert at his house. Rupert sits on the porch, and look out at the huge grassy yard. He sits resolutely and above is the sky and clouds drawn in wavy pencil lines.

He whines and I laugh at him. I raffles his hair and hold his face in my palms. “So… how is handsome Denzel doing today?” “I’m fine! Here….” He reaches for a drawing book next to him on the bed and shows me a page where drew…. Ah! I don’t even know what he drew! But I guess it’s some cartoons. “… Look, Anna, I drew hulk and captain America!” “Oh… “ I take a closer look and frown, why doesn’t they look like the hulk and captain America I know?

I actually lied about not being able to draw because drawing was one activity that fueled the demons in me. I didn't lie when I said the only thing I drew was nude. For three years, I was chained, abused, and forced to draw dirty, depraved art. Men fucking animals, trees, and children. More often than not, they were still life. I hated drawing. The very art I loved the most.

While David was distracted with the other minions, Dorime began to splash ink in the wall using the onyx. He shaped it using his little hands and used his flying golem for the unreachable places. He painted a humanoid striking a T-pose in the center of the wall, with lines near its body, as if they represented that it was glowing. Near, he made the crude shapes of various of his new and older brothers: Skeletor was a small horned humanoid, lumps represented the rats and squirrels, some tunneling worms, vultures, beetles, and even some ants.

Leo turned his drawing board to reveal a drawing of a calm lake. Daniela and the remaining three applauded him. Rocco showed his drawing next, which was a messy combination of red and black. They still applauded him. Alessio turned his drawing board. His drew a picture of four small boys running in a field. He was applauded. Killian turned to Matteo, the ring leader. “Your turn.” Matteo smiled and turned his drawing board. Killian rolled his eyes. As expected. Matteo drew a picture of a woman in a wedding dress, holding hands with four small boys in suits, and beside them was a stick figure of a man who looked like no effort was put into drawing him.

Dimitri turned around, brows lifting slightly. Zoe walked over, all four feet of her confidence on full display, and handed it up to him. He looked down at the drawing. Three stick figures stood in front of a black square labeled "HOME". One had long curls. One had a crown. The third had very sharp shoulders and icy blue eyes drawn in clumsy marker. Above them, Zoe had drawn a yellow sun with a big smile and the word "US" in careful, crooked letters. Dimitri held the paper like it might explode.

The sleek lace sticks to my pussy, and my wetness cements it to it. I slip on my high heels. A sick whore with a sick fantasy. All ready, I drop to my knees and draw from my imagination. No theme. No rules. Just me and my perverted thoughts. And a wild revelation at the end. So, I dare his fans to go a bit crazy, to fuck themselves as much as I did while throwing these dirty pieces together. One hand on my breast, and another mapping his image to life, I draw a man I should run away from. One stroke at a time, his fine athletic build comes to life. I leave the top area blank for his face, and go about polishing the body to perfection.

Of course, there are so many others in here admiring the artworks. “This is…” I start, but Michael completes it. “Erotic.” I blush hard. “I’d say sinful. A very sexy, sinful artwork.” I study the drawings starting from the one with a woman shoving a dildo into her big pussy, her face scrawled with desire, and her mouth dropped open to her chest. I move to the next with the drawing of an older man with his cock in hand while his seeds drip from his crown like droplets of water. There’s one with two teenage girls on their knees, their hands bound as they suck a cock from a glory hole.