Ms Trenwall asks Patric to take off everything. She explains, that her art has to do with bodypainting somehow and therefore any textile would be hindering. that sounds logical, Patric thinks. he feels weird but relaxed - the sweet smell, the silent music, Ms Trenwall smiling encouraging - and also comfortable;
stripping, he wonders, why she doesn´t take off her kimono.
but instead she calls: "Sam, please come with the measuring tape now."
an athletic musculous guy enters the room. he has a winning smile. dark curls frame his cute face. bright blue eyes. dark stubbles, thick layers of hair sprawling up his firm chest. hairy thick arms, hairy legs and in between a semihard cock of at least 7 inches.
furry thick nuts, looking like a bull´s sack, dangle between them and force him to walk like a boxer.
Sam glances onto Patric´s crotch and licks his lucent full lips.
Patric hesitates.
what does this mean? he is not gay! not at all.
he expected a good time with Ms Trenwall - but not with a hirsute Sam - though he looks handsome. No, great.
Patric does not notice, the sweet smell becomes more and more intensive. he feels a little dizzy, but great at all.
by now, Sam is next to Patric.
their eyes meet. "wow. he looks great!" Patric is bemused. "don´t think such nonsense" he thinks adomishes himself bewildered. "seen his manly chest?" he feels more and more attracted and aroused. by the time, Sam measures his arms and biceps, and his huge cock swings against Patrics thigh. "feels good!" Patric descides just to let it happen. no. he even decides to enjoy this time here and make the best of it. Sam´s measures Patric´s chest now and his cock seems already to have grown much harder: it pokes against Patric´s belly.
Patric looks down. Sam´s cock is gigantic pole, towering up out off a a huge forrest of dark dense pubes. the thick red glanse wanders through Patric´s sparse treasure trail and leaves already a little trace of precum. Patric laughs a little shyly at first, then, noticing Sam´s lustfull glance, his laugh becomes more boldly.
Sam bends down now and grabs Patric´s thick hanging dick busily: "4 and 1/2 inches" he shouts.
his first sentence. his voice is deep and rough. his hand feels soft and tender like silk.
Patric cannot avoid growing a huge erection. Sam looks down: "No: 5 inches - oooh, 6 - 6 and 1/2 - ups - 7. 7 fully erect now. not bad. rockhard. hard a mast. a really stiffy!"
He doesn´t stop to comment Patrics errection, who hears it with more and more prideness. Sam smiles and gives some strokes to Sam´s rockhard cock, and absently starts to caresses his own hardon with the other hand.
Ms Trenwall clears her throat: "ok. my pictures are bodypainting-action-scenes. while you two will grow more and more into unscrupulous and corybantic sex on this canvas here on the floor, I will cover your bodies with this very special colour! and of course with your cum. buckets of cum..."
what only ms Trenwall knows (and maybe Sam could guess, if he could remember): it is a colour, abuzzed with hormones. it changes the body and the mind, changes everybody who gets into an intense contact with it into a very good looking, virile, horny, dull sexslave.
Patric...............