Having finished Clay's cock, Rene moved on to other things. Clay's already nice abs became very well-defined, like a walk of cobblestones. The Frenchman worked his way up and down Clay's body, pulling here, pushing there, kneading the bronze flesh into something magnificent. Clay slowly realized that Rene was the sculptor, and that he had misunderstood earlier. He apologized, which produced a warm smile from the Frenchman.
"It is no problem, Monsieur," he replied, "it is not the first time it has happened. Language is strange, at times."
He continued to push and pull Clay's body. Clay was amazed at how Rene seemed to have a magical ability to pull his flesh in a way that allowed him to create ever larger muscles. His pecs were thick and meaty now, and his arms bulged succulently. In fact, he was a little bigger than your average underwear model now, and he loved it.
Rene then started making minor changes to his face. His once-broken nose was straightened out, his jaw became stronger, and the little bump he had on one side of his face was smoothed away. Rene stepped away, and admired his handiwork.
"C'est magnifique!" he exulted.
Just then, the phone rang, and Rene answered it.