Female Arms Drawing Novels & Stories

Such a childish and girly tantrum. I covered my face. This was truly embarrassing. It was a good thing that I am the only person seeing this. I could not let Lucas know that I have such a habit before! This would be my secret until the day I die! "Mom, look here! I draw myself and mom!" My mother and I looked at the drawing book. There were two stick figures on the paper. The taller stick has long hair and a big smile with very long lashes that expand longer than the ears. While the shorter stick has twig tails and a small smile.

He was drawing. She stepped closer, silent. On the paper was not a building, but a hand. A man’s hand, gripping a parallel bar, tendons standing out in stark relief, the knuckles white with strain. It was Liam’s hand, from that afternoon. It was perfect. It was alive with a painful, defiant energy she recognized instantly the same fierce vitality that had been in her own teenage sketches, the ones he’d defaced.

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.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

Coloured chalks in hand, she is deep in concentration. The noisy chatter of the young adults as they take their seats behind her barely registering as she concentrates on the task in hand. She has already drawn the parted legs and rounded arse cheeks and was now working on the pussy lips, the outer labia. Her drawing was graphic in its anatomical correctness and state of arousal.

The stunningly flat muscles under her skin moved with a rhythm that he felt in the pencil he held. His eyes hungrily drank in the details of her form. Her small but firm breasts, her strong arms, flat stomach; the muscles rippling under her skin called to him, even the rise and curve of her ass drew his eyes. The color of her ivory skin burnt into his memory, her auburn hair that hung down to the middle of her back. He was sure he could have remembered everything without the sketch he was quickly jotting down. The sight of her left his mouth dry.

What may come with tomorrow she didn't know, but tonight she belonged here, in this bed with this man, loving and being loved. Adrastus watched her eyes change as Aprilś small hands began to move sensually down her bare midriff, one long leg planting itself on his chest, pushing him away slightly, giving her some breathing room and he happily obliged, desire choking him with itś intensity as he forced his hands to stay still, letting April know that she held all the control.

The two women began to draw closer together. It was hard to tell who really moved first, but suddenly they were on each other. Still in their human forms, the two women grappled, and though neither was a professional fighter, they were both strong and determined. Diana wrapped her arms around Helen’s middle and threw her weight into her. Helen stumbled backward, but kept her footing.

Between the two, there wasn't a patch of hair that could have been discernable yet. The breasts were full and stood on their own will, even though the body seem to be propped up on an elbow. The other armed ran down the slim body to the thighs, ending in a very feminine hand. Only the fingernails show that this wasn't a normal woman. They were bitch black and long. It was possible that they could be used to do nothing more than scratch a bad itch, but they also looked as they could pierce a mans skin and dig their way to his heart.

The thin arms boosted the figure up onto the ledge, where it gathered itself and stood. It was obviously a girl. She was tall, with a long graceful body. She had womanly hips above long thin legs which had a space between the thighs. Her chest was obscured by clots of come, yet he could tell her breasts were two perfect globes, not as big as Tiffany's but much more beautifully shaped.