Lukisan Wanita Telanjang Novels & Stories

I couldn't help but gawk at the paintings, they were beautiful, presenting me in various poses. And then, a particular portrait of me caught my eye. The lady was fully naked but her face was covered by luscious ginger red hair that cascaded down to cover her nipples and her privates, everywhere else was exposed. She had signs of stretch marks on her thighs and at the side of her boobs- though I couldn't make out her face, I saw her beautiful eyes- eyes like mine. I didn't want to deceive myself to believe that I was the girl in the painting.

Intrigued and somewhat apprehensive, he opened it to reveal a shocking and explicit image of a woman named Penelope. The picture displayed Penelope sitting in her personal car, her tight top struggling to contain her ample cleavage. It was a provocative sight, one that seemed intentionally designed to entice and shock the recipient. Liam's initial reaction was a mixture of temptation and disgust, as he grappled with the unexpectedness of the image.

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.

How could he be a rogue? He could not help looking at the picture in Nalan Wushuang's hand. It was a drawing of a human body. On it was a middle-aged woman. She was naked. Her full chest, slender waist and private parts and even the expression on her face could be seen clearly. Qin Haodong smiled and said, "This is art. If taken out, it can be sold for a lot of money." Nalan Wushuang curled her lips and said, "How much can it be sold for? These things cost only a few hundred yuan."

she continued, “yet it is as though they never looked at themselves, yet they must have had an endless supply of naked women to pose for them.” “Perhaps artists are simply not well endowed.” Her eyes widened and he laughed again. “I wish I could draw or paint, mo Leannan. I would love a portrait of you like this, relaxed and on display for me. But I would never let another man look on you naked at all, let alone long enough to capture your likeness.”

One painting was in which the girl was sitting in a short white dress in the balcony of her old house with a coffee mug in her hand. As the girl walked further ahead she halted looking at a painting. In the painting the girl was wrapped in just a white sheet and half of her boobs were visible. She seemed to be sitting in front of a mirror and had turned to look in the other direction. Her back was entirely naked while the man had painted upper part of her hips too. Her long hair were tied in a bun just the way she did usually when she was working. Lisa blushed a little remembering when the man had told her that he would often fantasize about her naked body.

“You keep opening your mouth for me like you want me to fill it with something.” She snapped it shut, blushing. She looked away from me, taking a peek at the other paintings around us. The one by our left was of a woman who was tied up, lying on her stomach, her pale skin decorated with red strokes. One could tell she had been flogged. The one by our right was of a naked man going down on a naked woman. Brielle looked back at me. “Max!” I arched an eyebrow, a small smile playing on my lips. “What? Do you hate it here?”

There’s one with two teenage girls on their knees, their hands bound as they suck a cock from a glory hole. The eroticism makes my breath falter. They spark the fires of my need, and I can feel my pussy leaking love juices. “I’m definitely going to apply to be drawn like this next year.” I hear one woman saying as she faces the drawing of a dominatrix bouncing on one of the cocks of her submissive while stroking the other submissive’s cock. The lady beside her chuckles. “Then I’m going to buy that drawing during next year’s exhibition.” The first woman gasps. “Why would you want to have my drawing hanging somewhere in your house, Ana!?” There’s a quiet laugh in her voice.

I don’t think Carrie realized she heard, and with my head between them, she may not have seen the grin. Just knowing that it would make her squirm, I moved my hand up and cupped Carrie’s bust while looking over her shoulder to see what they were reading. It turned out to be some pen and ink drawings of women in erotic poses. Some were nature scenes, others were of two or three people in various states of undress and in the midst of various sex acts. The one on the right page was a woman licking up the base of an erect cock of some unseen man. The woman in the picture was looking up at her man with a gaze of pure lust.

“But actually, the price has just doubled. And I have no interest in selling to you.” Before he can answer, I strut away. My knuckles are white around my drink glass, but I hope he won’t notice. I grit my teeth and move over to one of my paintings, stopping in front of it to catch my breath under the guise of admiring my work. As I’m steadying myself and sipping my drink, I look up at the painting, taking in its appearance under the studio lights. This piece depicts a woman wearing a gown that’s been slashed down the front with scissors, and she’s holding the pieces together in an attempt at modesty. Her eyes are downcast, her face red. It’s called ‘Provider’.