Pencil Easy Gangster Drawing Novels & Stories

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.

Lívia answered, her cheek was blushing. Enrico smiled, he liked her shyness. In silence, the gangster felt his delicate hand sliding the wet cloth over his skin, removing dirt from his body. "I won’t touch down there,"she adamantly refused. "You can do it!" Furious, Enrico took the cloth from her hand as he ordered her to bring something to eat. "There are some cookies in my desk drawer". "Be a good girl and take it!" He ordered. "I'm hungry”.

"You can look now, Ate Graziel." Graziel accepted the drawing with a warm smile. Three stick figures were drawn on the paper. One was a tall man. One was a little girl. And the last one was a woman with long hair. All three of them were holding hands. A gentle smile appeared on Graziel's face. "It's beautiful." "This is Daddy." Junie pointed at the tallest figure. "And this is me." Graziel nodded. "And this..." The little girl smiled brightly. "...is you."

Lucian Voss I was still holding the paper in my hand long after the door closed behind me. I didn’t even realize it at first, but my fingers had tightened around it like I was afraid of letting it go. It was a child’s drawing, done in crayon, the lines uneven and rough. There were three stick figures. One tall figure was labeled “Mr. Lucian.” The next was a woman with long hair, drawn with wide strokes and labeled “Mama.” Between them stood a small boy with messy curls and a wide smile. He had no label because I didn’t need one.

Suddenly, he picked up a pen, making Akiko look at him in confusion. "Draw something to pass the time," he said. "There's no paper," she replied. "Drawing doesn't always need paper," Glen said, holding out his hand. While Glen stayed focused on the game, Akiko began doodling on his arm. He remembered the black tattoo across his back-her drawings were nothing like that. "Hah..." Glen and Hans sighed after finishing the game-then froze. Glen's arms were completely covered in ink-flowers, cats, and random shapes.

Cailen smiled at him and how the names 'Papa' and 'Dad' came so easily to him now, it had taken less time than Cailen thought, and knelt down as a piece of paper was shoved into his hands. Ezekiel beamed at him as he watched Cailen look over the paper. Obviously, he was proud of his work, his work being a drawing of a man in black with a yellow 'DAD' written across his chest. The man also had pointy ears like batman and a long cape, although it was hard to distinguish what was cape and what was man because they were both black and the boy was only eight years old so it's not like he knew the importance of shading and such.

It was so far outside of my wheelhouse, but I bet Dante would be able to help me understand it all. “I’ll explain everything if I can get a piece of plain paper and pencil or something to draw with,” I said, taking a long drink of the refreshing water that Gabriel handed to me. Dante wasted no time in grabbing a sketchbook and a set of charcoal pencils. This would definitely work well. This was either Dante’s or Chris’ drawing tools. I set to work drawing Bandore while I explained what happened with excruciating detail because I did not want even the slightest morsel of information to be lost. Sometimes clues were found in the smallest details.

It might have been a fence, or a castle, or maybe just a random scribble by a four-year-old child. He yawned. His mouth opened wide, revealing his small baby teeth. His eyes narrowed in the yawn, with his eyelashes touching his lower eyelids. After the yawn, he rubbed his eyes, rubbing his fists against his eyelids a few times. Then he put his hands back on the low table and continued drawing. Jenny’s fingers released their grip on the low wall. Gravel particles fell from her palms and drifted away in the night breeze. Her palms bore the imprint of the gravel, with several shallow red scratches running across the palm lines, glimmering faintly under the streetlight.

“If you turn over a couple of pages, you’ll see the the next releases of my comic in pencil, ready for inking. You know how to do that, from school, you remember?” “Yeah, I remember. I like these ones better,” his smirk was wicked as he continued to look through the sketches. “F-k,” he tilted his head to the side. “Now that’s glorious. The expression on Cam’s face and the way you’ve drawn Talen like he’s a f-king sex god… I love it! I want it on my bedroom wall. Just look at Talen’s c-ck, it even looks slick with lube… And is that a handprint on Cam’s arse?”

The door closes behind him. Silence returns. I sit there for a moment, unmoving. Then I grab the sketchbook, flipping until I open the page. My gaze drifts over the eyes staring back at me. My fingers tighten around the pencil again. This time, I don’t hesitate. I drag the tip of it straight across the paper. Once. Twice. Again. Dark lines cut through the image, rough and deliberate, slicing through the careful detail. Ruining it. Destroying it. I stop only when the image is no longer recognizable.