Gay sex tale – Indar, the painter

Gay sex tale

Indar drove through the rural country side looking at it like it was his first time, as if he didn’t really know it, looking for that image, that special arrangement in the landscape that captured his eye. That landscape that he could frame in his mind; that would capture something of the region he could sketch, to put on paper, and ultimately put on canvas, adding hue, tone, shadow, line, bringing out an image as his eyes saw it. This was the first time in the last ten years he had not traveled abroad, creating landscapes, capturing landmarks, old buildings from a time when man had the conceit to think he and his world were the center of the universe, when they didn’t even know their own world, and Indar had painted them, in his own style, with bold rich color and strong contrasting shadows. He even from time to time did portraits of some of the local people, mostly women in traditional dress.

He had been teaching at the university for the last seven years, since he was twenty-seven, after spending five years traveling here and there, sketching and painting, developing his style, his approach to line and color, as he spent his inheritance, stretching it out by living in hostels, camping in tents in fields or the woods, or just tossing his sleeping bag on the ground by his easel and lying on his back staring up at the night sky until sleep overtook him. For the first six years of his academic career he traveled back during his summers to those familiar settings and he explored new ones, but this year was different. His mother wasn’t doing well and he thought he should stay close in case he was needed, so he decided to travel through the region he thought of as home.

He’d been on the road for a couple of days when he saw it. He had drove up a steep incline after crossing over a creek and came to the top of the hill when he spied the scene. An old abandoned barn, its boards weathered dark sienna, never having received paint and its roof, an old rusted tin construction that was missing a few panels along one lower section sat among several old oaks, their branches spreading out wide and thick. There were a couple of smaller outbuildings, one leaning over, appearing to defy gravity. Behind it all stood the concrete shell of a silo, its walls once white now a faded out gray, the color of the concrete bleeding through the worn thin paint. Indar pulled over and surveyed the site. He stood there knowing this would be his first work for the summer. Getting back into his car he drove on down the rural narrow two lane highway until he came to a farm house, with its own barns, silos and outbuildings, all old, in disrepair, but still functioning. He drove down the drive to the rear yard and found a man working on his truck. Explaining what he wanted the old farmer told him who owned the property and offered to call for him. Soon he had the owner’s permission and was on his way to the nearest hotel to find a room. Luckily there was an exit with a hotel, service station and a fast food restaurant. Within a couple of hours he was returning to the site of the old barn.

For several hours he sketched from one position then another, looking for that one view that gave him the composition he wanted; then he set to sketching the scene before him in detail. He worked tirelessly, while the hot summer beat down on him, the humidity making the air thick and stifling and the constant buzz of insects, the constant need to fan the gnats slowed his progress, but didn’t deter him. He knew the region, grew up in it, knew how it worked, and he knew how to work at its pace. It was why he had heard the tractor coming down the road but didn’t consider it until he heard it stop. The noise of a tractor was too common to take notice.

He turned and looked back at the road, where his Jeep sat parked in the ditch and saw the old Mahindra tractor, a model from the days before cabs. He saw the farmer climb down and come to the fence, saw him climb effortless over the old barb wire fence and begin his slow ambling walk toward where Indar was set up. Indar first noticed how he was dressed. His shoes looked like old work boots but it was hard to tell with him walking in the tall grass. As he got closer, Indar could see how dirty he was from his labors, how his cap was filthy, frayed along the brim, how his shirt had had its sleeves torn from the shoulders, the opening showing the frayed edges, and his jeans were smeared with dirt and grease, frayed at one knee, the opening dark, too far away to see the skin exposed through it.

When the farmer was about thirty meters away he called out, giving a small low wave with one hand.

“Hey, you that artist from the university?”

“Yes. Are you the owner?”

“That would be my mother” he replied as he got close enough for Indar to really see him. He looked to be mid-twenties, average height, lean, the way his shirt hung from his shoulders and billowed around his waist in the slight breeze. His face was rough looking, his beard looking to have a few days growth, the skin tanned. Definitely not the soft boyish face of the students he saw during the two semesters he taught each year. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest, revealing his tanned smooth chest. He wasn’t cute, but he was attractive and it made Indar suck in a breath and hold it a second, telling himself to behave himself, to not let his roaming eyes get him in trouble. When the farmer was a few steps away he reached out a hand to shake with Indar.

“I’m Rajnish.”

“Indar. So your mother owns this place?”

“Yes, she inherited it from her grandfather several years ago. It am not the best land; won’t grow shit, so we let it sit idle while she tries to figure out what she wants to do with it.”

“I guess there are not a lot of options out here.”

“Tell me about it. If we were close to a city, well…” then Indar could see that look, of someone stuck in a place he didn’t really like, someone looking for something else. “So what makes you want to paint this busted down ole barn?” Rajnish asked when he brought his attention back to Indar. Indar laughed and looked at Rajnish shaking his head.

“I don’t know, sometimes I just see some landscape, some group of buildings and just want to capture them on canvas.”

“I see” Rajnish replied, and Indar sensed he did understand. They talked a few more minutes, about Indar’s teaching art and his traveling in summers to paint and Rajnish told him how he was trying to make it on the family farm, admitting he thought it was the only thing he could do well. When their talk wound down to an awkward silence, Rajnish looked across the old over grown pasture, then back at Indar.

“Well, I guess I should leave you alone and let you get back to your painting.” Rajnish turned to walk away but stopped and turned back to Indar. “Hey where are you staying if you’ll need a couple of days to do this painting?”

“I got a room at a hotel at one of the exits.”

“Oh Yes, that’s not far, but there aren’t shit over there to get something to eat at; why don’t you come to my folk’s house later today. You can get something decent to eat and mom can answer any questions you may have on this ole place.”

Indar hesitated a moment, thinking he didn’t really need the history of the place to paint it, but the offer was genuine, and something told him to accept.

“That sounds really nice; where do they live?”

Indar arrived at the mid-sixties ranch house right at five thirty, knowing how an early dinner was common practice and to be late an insult. He was greeted at the door by Rajnish, who brought him through the foyer running between a formal dining and living room, neither of which appeared to have seen much use, and into the back of the house into a darkly paneled den, a large fireplace prominent in one wall. Rajnish introduced Indar to his father and mother; Raji and Saba. Saba had them sit down while she finished her preparations of their dinner.

Conservations were forced, Indar not having much in common with Raji and Saba but the meal was good and they were genuine in their friendly hospitality. As they sat around the dining table, finished with desert, just talking casually Indar shown them some of his sketches and photos of some of his work he had done in the past. Saba asked if he did portraits.

“Not really; I mean, I’ve had the classes, and in my travels I would do one of someone I thought was interesting, dressed in some traditional costume, but it is not something I do regularly.” He hadn’t lied but he hadn’t told the whole truth. He struggled with drawing portraits. Not portraits of women, those he had no trouble studying his model, putting on canvas what he was seeing with his eyes. But men it was a problem. He would see the man in front of him; see his masculine form and see some beauty in him that brought up feelings that blurred his vision, messed with his objectivity. He loved the male form, but it was in ways far beyond art. He had never had a serious relationship, but he had had many flings, many a summer romance in Italy, France or some other country. But he didn’t sketch them; didn’t paint them.

“Well, I was wondering, would you paint Rajnish? I’ve always wanted one done, something other than the typical photo portrait, ya know what I mean” Saba asked.

Indar was stumped for a moment; then he cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know…you see I’m not the best at portraits” he replied.

“Oh I think you’re just being modest. You’re work looks really good to me; don’t you think so Raji?”

“Yes…It looks good” Raji responded, Indar knowing a man who doesn’t question his wife when he sees one. They went back and forth for a while, with Indar looking over at Rajnish, his shaggy brown hair dropping across his forehead, and the way he grinned at Indar, knowing his mother was making him uncomfortable. Indar made a comment about how long it’d take and he doubted Rajnish would want to sit still that long.

“I’ll do it. I’ll sit for it, if it is what mom wants” Rajnish said all of sudden after not saying much during the whole conversation.

“Don’t you worry Indar, we’ll pay ya for it and Rajnish here says he’ll sit still long enough for you to do it, so that settles it.”

The next morning, as the sun rose in the east, Indar was sitting in the high grass watching the light move over the old barn and silo, watching how the shadows shifted, moved, the colors change, and he began to paint. He tried to stay focused on his work but the idea of doing Rajnish’ portrait kept intruding, disturbing his calm, as he wondered how he would get through the sessions. Rajnish had told him they would do them at his house as soon as he was completed with his landscape. He even suggested Indar stay at his house, but Indar, in a moment of clarity, said he couldn’t do that and would keep his room at the hotel. He kept asking himself if he could keep his mind focused on Rajnish’ body in an artistic fashion and paint the portrait or was he in for a long ordeal of daydreaming, fantasizing, or masturbating in his hotel room every night until his dick was sore.

His attention span improved as the morning wore on and he had exhausted himself on thoughts of Rajnish and finally gotten serious with his painting. It was nearing noon when he saw Rajnish’ pickup pull up and park in front of his Jeep. Rajnish came toward him carrying something, which he quickly realized was some sort of lunch. Rajnish came up and told Indar his mom sent lunch and to come over to one of the oaks so they could sit in the shade. Indar brought his small camp chair and sat in the shade of the oak, where the grass wasn’t as tall. He found the lunch sent to be unbelievable and he ate hardily as Rajnish sat on the ground close by asking questions about the university, questions about the curriculums and what it was like on campus. After a few minutes, Rajnish grabbed the waist band of his shirt and pulled it up over his head and off. Indar had watched, holding his breath, as Rajnish’ torso came into view. He was so lean, his stomach and chest so smooth and tanned from outdoor work, and when he had raised his arms Indar saw how Rajnish had thick dark brown hair in each arm pit. Rajnish tossed the shirt on the ground behind him and laid back, putting his cap over his face to shield his eyes.

“Damn I am exhausted. One of dad’s calves got sick and we were up till three this morning” Rajnish stated as he laid there. Indar sat, staring for what he knew to be far too long. He looked at the long slim torso, the damp arm pit hair, the thin trail of hair from his navel to the waist band of his jeans that fit snug to his narrow waist. He looked at Rajnish’ long legs in the tight legs of his jeans, and he looked at the bulge in the crotch. As he stared, Rajnish reached over and adjusted his crotch and Indar held his breath watching as the long fingers moved the bulge in the tight confines of the jeans. ‘How in the hell am I going to do his portrait’ he wondered at that moment, and how he wanted to reach down and touch him, do things that Rajnish would probably beat the shit out of him if he tried. He struggled to finish his lunch as he sat there looking at the body of Rajnish, feeling frustrated.

When he was finished they moved back to the easel with Indar getting settled back in his place while he and Rajnish discussed getting started the next evening on his portrait. Indar worked the rest of the day sporadically as he struggled to stay focused, unable to keep thoughts from surfacing of Rajnish and the challenge that lay ahead of him.

Indar went back to the old barn the next morning and painted until he finally got to a stopping point; a place in his painting he was satisfied with the results. He spent the rest of the day riding around the area, grabbing a late lunch in a nearby town. He got back to his hotel room around five, gathered his art supplies and headed to Raji and Saba’s for dinner. He would follow Rajnish afterwards to his house.

Rajnish lived in the old farmhouse that had been built by his great great-grandfather and lived in by different family members up till the late 1980’s where it sat vacant until Rajnish took it over and renovated it. Indar was surprised to see how nice the old house had been renovated, how manicured the lawn and surrounding landscape. They pulled to the rear and were soon entering through a back door at a screen porch. Inside they went into a modern kitchen and living area, where Rajnish opened the refrigerator asking Indar if he wanted a beer.

Drinks in hand, Rajnish led Indar to the living room at the front of the house where he had set up the room for Indar. The furniture on one side of the room was moved to the dining room and a tarp was lying on the floor. The opposite wall had an old antique sofa that had been refurbished positioned at the wall with a large painting hanging over it. Indar couldn’t help but ask about the painting and Rajnish just smiled and said an old friend from high school had done it, and that he lived in California now.

Indar set up his easel and got his paints, pencils and other supplies all set up while Rajnish went to change into some better clothes. Rajnish came back into the living room wearing a white dress shirt open at the collar with his tanned skin contrasting sharply with the bright white fabric. He had combed his hair but a lock refused to stay in place and kept dropping across his forehead.

Indar sketched for nearly two hours trying to get the proportions right, and he kept making Rajnish shift positions in an effort to get the best angle, but he wasn’t satisfied with his results so far. He got frustrated and told Rajnish he had to stop a moment to recompose himself, that he was struggling for some reason.

“I can’t get your body proportions right for some reason” Indar told him

“Should I stand up and let you sketch me that way?”

“No, I just need to iron out your basic body structure first then look at how your clothes fit.”

“You want me to take off my clothes” Rajnish said it, smiling a little mischievously.

“No” Indar replied quickly, then lowered his voice; “that won’t be necessary.” He looked at Rajnish and then at his sketches and finally laid them down and stood up.

“Where is your bathroom?”

“Through the door, down the hall; it’s the second door on the left.”

“I’ll be right back.” Indar went to the bathroom and relieved himself, washed his hands and then his face, staring at himself in the mirror, asking himself what his fucking problem was and why he couldn’t focus, knowing full well what was the problem. He stood at the lavatory, propped on his hands, head held down, for a few minutes, taking slow measured breaths. Then he looked at himself in the mirror once more and nodded, thinking ‘I can do this’.

He went back to the living room and froze in the door way, feeling his breathing come to a complete stop. Rajnish was sitting on the sofa as before, but he was naked, his clothes lying in an arm chair.

“I know you said not too, but I thought it might help you with my body structure” Rajnish said as Indar came into the room and sat at his easel. He tried not to look at first, knowing how he would gaze at Rajnish and afraid Rajnish would see it in his eyes. He took a deep breath and thought ‘fuck it’ and began. He struggled at first, tried to focus on the whole of Rajnish and not stare at just one part or place. But for a few minutes he couldn’t help it. He looked at Rajnish’ cock and how it lay over his balls, thick and wrinkled as the loose skin was pulled up along its flaccid state. He looked at how the trail of hair from his navel went down and spread into the thick bush of hair over his cock and how his cock was darker than the surrounding skin; how his hips and crotch were slightly lighter in skin tone, but obviously getting some sun. He looked at Rajnish’ long legs, the muscular thighs and calves and the brown hair that covered them. Indar’s eyes roamed over the naked body, looking at that familiar torso, and the smooth tanned skin and how his chest wasn’t overly muscular in definition but was lean like a runner or swimmer, and how his arms did have muscular definition, with the biceps bulging with muscle. His eyes roamed back up to Rajnish’ face, all clean shaven, appearing smooth, and he noticed the smile on his face, the look in his eyes. Indar could see how Rajnish knew he was making him flustered, but Indar renewed his determination to do the portrait.

For over an hour he sketched and worked out Rajnish’ body, the line of his torso, the curve around his hips, the form of muscle along his arms, his legs, and even along his shoulders to his neck. He composed himself enough to even draw Rajnish’ sex, the curve of it, the way it laid over his balls and the way they hung between his legs. When his hands ached and his eyes were fatigued he set his pencils down and looked at what he had done. He was surprised at how well he had done. He saw Rajnish get up and approach and he stiffened. Rajnish came and stood by him looking at the sketch. Indar couldn’t help it as he glanced over at Rajnish’ cock as it was right beside him, right there, so close he could smell the scent of Rajnish. He could see the individual hairs lying over his skin, and the smoothness of his skin, the unblemished surface, the natural tightness over muscle.

“That is really good, Indar” Rajnish’ voice low, a huskiness in it Indar had not heard before. Rajnish moved closer, his hand rested on Indar’s shoulder. Indar froze as he sensed Rajnish lean down, his head moving up next to his own.

“Do I really look like that?”

“Yes” Indar replied automatically, his voice low.

“Thanks” Rajnish replied and Indar felt his breath just before he felt Rajnish’ lips touch his cheek, kissing him lightly. Rajnish pulled back a few inches as Indar turned and looked at him, looked into his brown eyes, saw the angular features of his face soften, this smile widen, dimples formed into the sides of his mouth. Indar leaned toward Rajnish and touched lips to lips. The kiss got harder, mouth to mouth, tongue dueling tongue, as Rajnish inflamed Indar’s passions, forced him to respond to his desires. Rajnish held Indar’s head and kissed him one more time on the mouth and then stood up next to Indar, his naked body up close, and this time Indar didn’t freeze up, didn’t shy away, as he reached out to hold Rajnish’ cock in his hand, felt its soft skin move along the shaft, felt it begin to harden, the head swell up. Rajnish watched Indar’s manipulations as if in a trance, then he watched as Indar moved to it, mouth open, and took it into his mouth, slid it along his tongue until it pushed at the opening to his throat and he tried to push further. Indar felt Rajnish’ cock swell in his mouth and fill the void, the warm shaft move over his tongue as he moved his head back and forth. Rajnish held his head and began to work his hips, pumping cock through Indar’s mouth, feeling the head slide over Indar’s tongue, the warm wet slickness of Indar’s mouth sending sensations through him, ancient primitive sensations, as he flexed and swung his hips. Drool slid from Indar’s mouth and down his chin as he was lost in the feel of Rajnish in his mouth.

Rajnish was achingly hard, his cock felt like it was stone, and he pulled out of Indar’s mouth and stood back, watching it bob in the air. Indar sat staring at it, his glazed over eyes moving with every movement of Rajnish’ cock. Then Rajnish’s hand broke his field of vision, snapped him out of his trance and he looked up at Rajnish.

“Let’s go to the bedroom” Rajnish told Indar, as Indar nodded ok and took his hand. Rajnish led him to the last room down the short hall and to the bed. Standing by the bed, Indar watched as Rajnish methodically pulled the quilt and sheet back to the foot of the bed. He watched the naked form of Rajnish’ body move, watched the muscles shift under the skin, his cock move freely around; he watched how Rajnish’s facial expression was one of calm determination. He watched how Rajnish’ hair kept falling over his forehead and into his eyes, and he noticed for the first time the line of freckles across his shoulders. Indar was like a child, unable to act on his own, just standing there watching, waiting, transfixed by his desires and his needs.

Rajnish came back to him and began to undress him, unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. He unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, pulled the zipper down and pushed them down with his boxers until they dropped to Indar’s ankles. Indar stepped out of them as he was led to the bed, the two of them lying side by side, touching each other, bringing lips to lips, kissing as the heat of their bodies warmed the other. Indar seemed to suddenly come alive, to awake as if from a dream and he pushed Rajnish back on his back.

“I wanted to touch you from the first moment I saw you…” and he hesitated, his eyes roaming over Rajnish’ body, “and when you were posing and I was sketching you; then doing the portrait, I wanted to come to the sofa and touch you, to touch you everywhere.”

“You can do that now” Rajnish replied.

Rajnish lay there, silent and still, as Indar moved around, shifted up next to him. Rajnish closed his eyes, waiting, knowing Indar wouldn’t hold back this time. He felt the light touch on his chest first, small circular motions, Indar feeling the smoothness of his skin, its firmness with the hard muscle underneath. Indar felt the softness of one then the other nipple and the erect nub in the middle and he leaned over and tongued it, kissed it lightly, then tugged on it with his teeth. Rajnish sucked in a deep breath at the sensation.

Indar ran his fingers lightly up to Rajnish’ neck feeling its structure, his Adam’s apple, the way the artery ran up the side of his neck, felt the shape of his ear and how his roughly cut hair fell around it, soft and thick. Indar moved his lips to the ear and ran his tongue over it, around it and felt Rajnish turn giving him better access as a low quiet moan escaped from within him. Indar ran his fingers through Rajnish’ hair as his lips traveled over his face, touching lightly each eye, over the nose, across his lips and to his chin and along his jaw, feeling the straight line of it. Indar shifted and laid his head on Rajnish’ chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the movement of his breathing and the sound of his pumping heart, as his own fingers ran downward around his navel through the sparse hair that grew around it and they followed the trail of hair, down and by his hard cock, arced up hard over his stomach. Indar’s fingers felt the tightly curled hair above Rajnish’ cock and felt the way it quickly thinned out as his fingers moved out over his hips and around the smooth flesh covering them. As Indar moved his fingers around Rajnish’ crotch, over his balls, feeling them shift in their sac, feeling the smooth skin of it, he moved his head downward, following the path his fingers had just traveled. Indar felt Rajnish’ hand on his head, guiding him, the fingers massaging his head letting his hair slide between them.

Indar licked the head of Rajnish’ cock, ran his tongue down it to his balls, feeling the smooth texture, the shape of the shaft and the way the head flared out. Indar tugged on Rajnish’ balls, tightening them in their sac and Rajnish pushed Indar’s head down so his cock slid between Indar’s lips and into his mouth. Indar sucked, tongued and moved his head up and down the hard shaft, slicking it up, heating it with the warmth of his mouth. Rajnish began to pump his hips upward, pushing more of his cock into Indar’s mouth. Indar moved so his body lay along Rajnish’ legs, the fine hair tickling him, his cock sliding between them as he moved it back and forth, increasing his own lust, driving him onward, as he took Rajnish in his mouth. Rajnish began to swing his hips upward faster and harder, working his cock through Rajnish’ mouth, the sound of it sliding through his lips, the sound of Indar putting suction to it breaking the silence in the room.

Rajnish slowed to a stop and rose up, looking down on Indar.

“I want to fuck your ass” he told Indar.

Indar let Rajnish’ cock slip from his mouth and he moved up over Rajnish’ hips, his own hard cock bouncing up and down. Indar held Rajnish’ cock up, let it rub over his ass as he moved back and forth over it letting it touch him there, time and time again, building his need, his desire. He held Rajnish’ cock gently between his thumb and forefinger as he moved himself into position, pushing slightly against the head of Rajnish’ cock, feeling the pressure against his tight opening. He pushed down with his weight and felt the breach of his opening, the penetration, as Rajnish slid into him. Slowly Indar moved down, his hands now bracing his body by leaning back on them as they rested on Rajnish’ thighs, the angle of penetration pushing against his insides, rubbing through his opening, as he felt the stretch, the pain; the pleasure. Indar moved down slowly until he had all of Rajnish in him, and he squirmed around feeling the fullness of his insides where Rajnish had penetrated deeply into him. He moved up slowly, feeling his opening relax, accept the intrusion, the cock that was stroking his insides, making him hold his breath as he moved up and then back down. Indar moved slowly for several minutes, feeling the shaft slid through him, work his opening; stuff his guts full.

Rajnish watched as his cock appeared and disappeared again and again and again, as Indar moved up and down, sliding his body along the hard shaft of his cock. He felt the hot softness inside Indar, he felt the tight ring of his opening as it moved up and down his shaft, milking his cock and he felt the light bounce of Indar’s cock off his stomach each time he came down. Rajnish reached out, resting one hand on Indar’s hips, feeling the movement of his body and the other grasped the hard cock bouncing in front of him. He stroked it roughly, tightly in his fist, feeling the head slid into his hand then back out as he slammed his fist down to the base of Indar’s cock. He felt the warm slickness of the head and he smeared it along the shaft and saw how it made Indar speed up, to work his body harder, forcefully up and down, stroking Rajnish’ cock with the tight ring of his opening.

“Fuck…take it” Rajnish cried out as he felt his cock swell up, throbbed achingly inside of Indar, and then explode his load deep into him, pumping wad after wad out, hot thick sticky wads he pumped into Indar then worked his cock through it, slicking up his cock and Indar’s insides. Indar moved faster as sweat formed on his skin, as his breathing got faster, deeper, and Rajnish stroked furiously on his cock, pumped it harder, rubbing the head with each stroke, as his own cock didn’t go soft, but stayed hard, kept working through Indar’s insides, pumping out his first load back onto his crotch. Rajnish considered flipping Indar on his back, but his stamina was fierce, his hips working up and down fast, as he worked his opening over Rajnish’ cock. Suddenly Rajnish felt it, the hot splatter of cum as it hit him in the face, a trail of it shot across his chest and then wads pooled onto his stomach as the cock in his hand flexed over and over, shooting out Indar’s load with Rajnish stroking him till it was spent.

Indar was exhausted, and he lay on top of Rajnish, breathing hard, his sweaty body hot against Rajnish. Rajnish felt his own need, still unsated, still hard inside Indar and he rolled him over on his back as he got on top, pushing Indar’s legs apart, working his hips slowly, pumping his cock in Indar, through the loosened opening, feeling it soften its grip, but still snug enough, the feel of it gripping his cock making him thrust faster and faster, full long strokes as Indar lay back, head thrown back and his arms laying out over his head, as he took Rajnish’ fuck, the thrusting of his cock as it worked its way through his slick hot insides.

Rajnish soon rose up on his hands and feet, only his cock buried in Indar maintained full contact as he hammered it through Indar’s opening, pummeling it with his swinging hips, slamming cock into the hole beneath him. He fucked furiously, worked his hips hard, full arcing movements, as Indar grunted and groaned underneath him. He felt the buildup, the sensation of his cock swelling up, of preparing to shoot again, to push out a second load, and he slammed down into Indar over and over.

“Goddamn…fuck” Rajnish cried out as he came, pumping his second load into Indar. As he pumped out the last of his load, he feel on top of Indar, slowly moving his hips to work out the last of his cum and he felt Indar run his hands over his back and down his sides, smearing sweat over his hot skin.

Exhausted and spent, Rajnish lay on top of Indar, trying to catch his breath. They lay quietly spooned together until Indar, then Rajnish, feel asleep. They wouldn’t wake till morning.

That November Indar still thought constantly of his summer with Rajnish, of going out during the day and finding new landscapes to paint, or going back to the old abandoned barn to do some new perspective, he thought of the evenings when he worked on the portrait stopping often to have sex, marveling at the way Rajnish seemed to know no bounds. He remembered how Rajnish’ parents were so thankful for the portrait as he watched them hang it in their home. He wondered what Rajnish was doing now that fall was settling over the countryside. He felt the summer renewed him in some way and he knew the rave reviews of his landscapes in a gallery in Atlanta bode well for him for he became wilder with color, looser with his lines and the results surprised even him.

He made it home after another long day of classes and as usual for this time of year it was dark already. He went into his home and turned on the living room light as he put his personal effects on the table in the small foyer. He made it a ritual to look at the framed sketches hanging over the fireplace mantel each evening when he came in. Sketches that reminded him of his summer, the special time he had, of Rajnish and his renewed enthusiasm of his painting. Arranged over the mantel were the nude sketches of Rajnish; the various poses, the detailed drawings of a hand, his face, his penis, and the overall sketches of the long slim body. Indar moved through the living room, crossed the dining room and went into his kitchen. To one side was a small desk area with his computer. He brought up the screen and saw the usual note of emails in his inbox. As it opened up he went and poured a glass of wine and set out something to cook for dinner. When he went back to the computer he had to stop and catch his breath. There was a message from Rajnish.