Untitled

Charlie was so fucking nervous.

He’d never been more nervous for a class in his life.

He was halfway through getting his art degree, specializing in watercolors.

But this Charcoal Sketching elective was just too good to pass up.

A single 30 minute class per week to sketch a still life, a bowl of fruit, flowers, etc.

But this week was different.

This week they were having a nude model come in.

And he didn’t have any aversion to naked art, sculptures, paintings, drawings, often they were incredible.

But a real person?

The thought made his hands sweat.

Charlie didn’t have a good track record with real people.

Sure, he could come up with a few good jokes on the spot, but beyond that he didn’t feel like he would contribute much.

People were critical, talkative, fictitious.

They could be something that they really weren’t.

Not like art.

Art was persuasive in a way that made it seem as if it could be changed, but it was really meant to be one way all along.

When he got his brush on a canvas, everything just made sense.

The water ebbed and flowed wherever it wanted, like fate.

Like he was merely a medium for reality to create, like he had no real power over what he made.

And when he walked into the room with his peers, his raised shoulders fell and relaxed.

No one was there except other students getting settled.

Easels were all circled around a platform in the middle of the room.

Charlie sat down if front of a random canvas with a relieved sigh.

He had a little more time to prepare to see a naked person.

It’s not that he was scared of nakedness, he just had never seen someone naked in person before.

He’d seen it in porn of course, but that’s not the same thing.

Yes, he was a 21 year old virgin.

Such was the burden of an art student.

Never much time for fun.

But then the professor walked in, shaking him out of his thoughts, followed by someone in a long robe.

They introduced you to the students, a stunning young model who couldn’t be much older than Charlie.

He felt his eyes linger on you for longer than they should have.

He gazed at how your hair layed perfectly around your face, framing it to accentuate every feature of your face.

His worst nightmare.

You were gorgeous.

You turned to the podium and walked toward it, giving Charlie a chance to rip his gaze away.

He heard the fabric of the robe drop out of his sight line, echoing in his head like a bomb had gone off in a stadium.

He had to look.

That was the entire point of the assignment.

Looking at you and drawing you.

So he dragged his eyes up, spotting the fronts of your shins, cause of course you’d decided to face his direction.

Then the fronts of your knees, then your thighs, then…

God, you were so fucking beautiful.

Beautiful like a marble statue, like you were carved by Chauncey Ives himself.

You were standing up right, arms crossed over your body to hold your waist, pressing your tits together softly.

Your full hips made Charlie’s brain turn to mush.

He wanted to touch them, grab them, kiss them.

The stretch marks that striped across your thighs and tits made his heart stutter.

Like they were marking just where he should lick and kiss along your skin.

His mouth was dry and watering at the same time, like his body didn’t know how to react in the pure presence of your beauty.

Then he remembered where he was, a class, where he was supposed to be drawing.

The charcoal pencil trembled in his shaking hands.

Why was he shaking so bad?

Charlie tried to focus on the art, he tried so damn hard.

But he just couldn’t get the damn lines right.

Whenever he looked at you to get your proportions he swear he could feel your eyes on him.

He sketched, then erased, then sketched again, then erased.

It was never this difficult when he was sketching fruit.

The professor clapped their hands to alert the whole class. “Alright everyone, that’s all the time we have for today. Get those sketches into me by next week. They don’t have to be finished, they just need to have something tangible.”

Fuck, had it really been the whole period already?

He’d barely gotten anything down…

Definitely nothing tangible.

He gathered his supplies and his barely progressed canvas, swearing under his breath at his own idiocy.

You hadn’t even had time to pull on your robe before you walked up to him.

He stopped in his tracks as he realized you were still naked in front of him.

“Did you finish?”

You must have seen him struggling and erasing nearly every line he drew.

“Uh… No…” He very impressively babbled out.

“Would you ever want a… Private session? So you could finish your piece?”

“Wh- Huh?” Charlie’s eyes widened at your request.

“I would hate for you to fail the assignment and miss out on valuable learning just because of time constraints.” Your eyelashes fluttered up at him.

He gulped, nodding in agreement.

Why did he say yes?

Would you think he was desperate?

Did he even really know what he was agreeing to?

It didn’t really matter, because you grabbed a sharpie from his bundle of art supplies, scribbling your number onto his arm.

However, Charlie didn’t expect you to show up at his door mere minutes after texting you.

“Do you want like a… A drink or something?” He joked nervously, opening the door of his apartment to you.

You shook your head with a light smile as you walked in. “Where do you want me?”

“Uhhh…” He trailed off as he closed the door behind you and searched his room.

He pulled his desk chair over to sit a few feet away from the large mirror that covered his closet.

“Here is… Good.” Charlie mumbled, motioning you to stand in front of the mirror.

You smiled lightly, beginning to undo the buttons of your dress.

He looked to the side, grabbing his supplies and getting situated in the chair.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.” You joked as the fabric fell to the floor and he felt his brain turn on in way it never had before.

He didn’t even have the brain power to laugh at the reference.

There was usually a buzzing in the walls, probably the piping in the old building, but he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Everything was just you, your bare body, the mirror showing him his own flushed face in the reflection, as well as the back half of you he hadn’t gotten to see in class.

People often hid their true selves for others, but you had your full self on display for him right now.

He cleared his throat, feeling a pressure in his groin restricted by his jeans.

“Can you uh, do the same pose you did earlier?” Charlie asked, his voice breaking slightly in nervousness.

You just smiled, complying with his command and crossing your arms in front of you.

He now realized he’d left the chair too close to get a perfect portrait of you, but you might take it the wrong way if he got up, so he would simply do the best with what he had.

Without a time constraint, without so many people around, he felt less stiff.

The charcoal pencils gilded across his canvas, outlining your shape roughly to start.

You stayed perfectly still for him, trained to stare at one point in your surroundings, so you stared at his face.

You watched as his eyes darted up at you, then back down at his canvas.

He had intelligent eyes behind his glasses, blue and piercing with a cognizance that most people lacked.

You’d posed in the same art classes year after year as soon as you were able to.

It was a nice way to earn money as you earned your degree.

But you’d never met someone like Charlie.

Well, you’d seen other art students get flustered over seeing a nude model.

But none as gravitating as him, magnetic, like you just had to meet him.

Like everything in you was screaming to talk to him.

He bit his lip, your eyes darting to them as he switched between wetting them with the tip of his tongue, and drawing them back into his mouth with his teeth.

You weren’t even sure how long your hungry gaze stayed on him for.

“I think… I’m done.” Charlie said hesitantly, holding his canvas out in front of him to compare it to you.

“Can I see?” You grinned, curiously moving from your position and crouching in front of him.

He pursed his lips, deciding whether or not to let you see.

Was it good enough?

What if you thought it wasn’t good?

Sketching wasn’t his specialty after all.

“Please?” Your hands raised from the dainty spot on your lap to his thighs, making his breath hitch.

Charlie’s eyes fought to stay trained on the canvas instead of the beautiful angel sitting between his knees.

But he had a nagging thought.

“Have you ever done… A private session before?” Charlie asked, almost kicking himself for doing so.

It wasn’t any of his business, but he didn’t want to be just another notch on your belt.

But he also wasn’t stupid.

You were attractive.

A model.

You could get anyone you wanted.

Why would you want him?

A fine arts major with a studio apartment who was barely scraping by…

He could name five people off the top of his head who would pay double tuition just to get where he was right now.

But his entire world-view shifted when you shook your head.

“No. Not like this…” You grinned softly at him, almost shy.

The thought of him being the only one, being special to you, while your hands were rubbing on his thighs…

Charlie felt his core tighten.

He had to hold it together.

He couldn’t cum just from your touch.

That would be so incredibly massively uncool.

Like loser degenerate virgin uncool.

Well, he supposed he was.

A virgin, not a degenerate loser.

“Pretty please can I see, Charlie?”

And in that momentary loss of focus when you said his name was when everything came crashing down.

Or crashing up.

As soon as your lips pressed a kiss to the denim material covering his groin, he was gone.

A groan managed to escape his mouth before he managed to clamp it shut forcefully by shoving the back of his hand over his mouth.

He felt the meat of his cock twitch continuously against your face through his jeans, his eyes watering from holding back his sounds.

Your eyes turned from soft and caring, to hungry.

“Did you just cum?” You asked with a wolfish grin.

Charlie’s breath barely returned to him in time, enough for him to stutter out an incomplete response. “I- Sorry, I just- Um…”

“That’s so cute…” You mumbled, almost to yourself more-so than him as you stood up and gripped the canvas gently, tossing it onto his bed without so much as a glance.

He let go of it instantly, gasping for a moment before it landed softly on his comforter.

You barely gave him a moment to process before you were unzipping his jeans.

Charlie’s art supplies fell from his own hands, clattering onto the floor.

You peeled back the dampened fabric of the front flaps covering his groin with a sly smirk.

“Wa- Waitwait- Wait…” He pleaded, your hands halting immediately.

He didn’t want you to see his cum-covered underwear, but it was too late.

“Do you wanna stop?” You asked seriously, earning a frantic shaking of his head.

“Please… Plea- I…”

Charlie was putty in your hands, leaning forward just to be closer to you, to bathe in your presence. “Can I touch you?”

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” Your hand cupped his jaw, his hand turning to kiss your palm with reverence.

His cock twitched to life again in his boxers, making you grin. “No, but… Please?”

Your heart soared at his plea, head spinning slightly at his belief that he didn’t have the right to touch you. “Stay still, baby. You can touch me soon.”

You pulled up the hem of his shirt, pulling it off completely.

Then reaching for his soiled jeans and boxers, you pulled them off his hips.

Charlie lifted up off the chair momentarily to aid you, suddenly becoming bashful again as his cock, slick and sticky from his premature orgasm, sprang out from its confinement.

“Mmm~” You hummed in approval at his size, shape, color, everything about it was perfect.

Everything about him was perfect.

Now the two of you were on more equal footing, both naked and dripping for each other.

You were climbing on top of him in a moment, Charlie watching intently as your back turned to him.

“Please, please~” His heart was practically beating out of his chest in anticipation, your hand moving to grip his slick shaft and angle it toward your entrance.

You sank down on him, Charlie’s eyes rolling back for a moment at the wet squeeze of your walls.

He didn’t think being inside someone would feel so good.

The pressure of your body weight on him felt so intoxicating, reassuring him that this was real, that you were real.

You began to move, much to Charlie’s delight.

Fuck, you looked so fucking good bouncing on his dick with your head leaned back on his shoulder.

Your hands gripped the armrest to leverage you up and down and his hands shot to your waist to help you move.

He glanced at the mirror in front of you two, gazing at the way you’d placed your feet at the edges of the chair, spreading your legs for the both of you to see where the two of you were connected.

His cock looked perfect rocking in and out of you, like it was where he was always meant to be.

The reflection of your face captured his attention, an open mouthed smile with your eyes fluttering in pleasure as you slammed yourself down on him.

He wanted to sketch that face and keep it framed forever.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was thinking about art right now.

Charlie, to snap out of art mode, glanced at his own reflection, practically whimpering at what he saw.

His glasses were slightly crooked on his face, his brows upturned in a look of almost pleading pleasure.

Like he was on the verge of asking for more, or to cum.

He didn’t know which one he would enjoy more.

He looked so small underneath you, like a servant groveling at a goddess’ alter.

Because you were a goddess to him.

More beautiful than any Greek statue.

He didn’t give a damn if it was blasphemous to say it, he saw it as truth.

You deserved to be treated like a goddess.

So he pulled you closer to him, hauling the both of you up on shaky legs and pressing you against the mirror.

You gripped the edges of it steadying yourself with a giggle. “Char~”

His cock never left you, snug in your gummy walls the whole time before he thrusted experimentally.

His head fell into the back of your shoulder.

Moving inside someone was a whole different experience from someone moving around him.

He watched your thighs and tits jiggle as his hips met your ass, a shaky breath of pure awe spilling from his lips.

His arms wrapped around your torso, one hand reaching for one mound of your tits and the other reaching between your thighs to find your clit.

You whimpered as his fingers toyed with your nipple, his cock hitting deeper inside you than before in this new position.

His other fingers swept widely at the apex of your thighs, finding your clit surprisingly fast among the thrusting.

You let out a wanton moan at the touch, his thrusts becoming more unhinged, more desperate.

He was lost in worshipping your body, staring at the way it moved with him, which movements made you gasp the loudest, what made you clench around him the tightest.

If he had to pick which felt better, your pussy smothering his cock or your skin in his hands, he wasn’t sure if he could.

He was never usually one for deeply appreciating audible art, but the sounds you were making really did deserve praise.

“Oh fuck, Char- Cumming~” Your thighs clenched and trembled around his hand, your cum squirting out between you onto his floor.

Charlie watched your body clamp up and fall apart in his grip.

He thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, but apparently he was wrong.

“You’re so perfect…” He groaned, setting his chin on your shoulder to watch the reflections of the two of you bucking into each other frantically.

The sight was apparently too much for him, as he thrusted into you harder, reaching his peak.

“I think I’m… Gonna…” He stuttered, almost too shy to say it.

“Cum, baby~” You grinned through a haze of bliss, your orgasm taking over your consciousness entirely. “Pull out and cum on me…”

With your express permission, he just couldn’t hold back any longer.

He barely pulled out in time, gasping as groaning as his cum spurting between your legs and onto the mirror, beading up and rolling down the glass. “Oops…”

You grinned at his joke, leaning back into his body affectionately.

Charlie blinked, his vision returning to him as his high dissipated. “Would you maybe… Wanna stay for dinner?”

You couldn’t help but say yes.

He pampered you the whole night, cooking an impressive meal for you considering what little he had in his fridge, pulling up a movie that you discovered the both of you liked, even handing you a large shirt of his to sleep in after the night had long been over.

You’d climbed into his bed before him, sneakily grabbing the sketch that had been haphazardly tossed onto the bed earlier.

Charlie caught you looking, but just grinned as your gaze traveled the lines he’d made of you.

He climbed under the covers next to you, looking over your shoulder at his own work and how well it captured your essence. “I almost don’t wanna give it up.”

“Well, you don’t need a 2-D copy when you have the real thing, right?” You asked with a sly grin, placing the canvas gently on his nightstand before pressing a kiss to Charlie’s cheek.

He felt his face warm at that statement, a large smile crossing his face as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “No, I guess I don’t…”

☆ big, warm, reliable. you’re a little more skittish and high energy, flitting from one thing to the next with a kind of nervous energy he finds both endearing and exhausting. you’ll be pacing the room, fussing with your feathers or rambling about something that happened earlier, and ted just watches you with that soft, patient smile until you finally flop down next to him, tired out.

☆ he loves your wings. you catch him staring at them all the time, especially when you stretch them out or fluff them up when you’re upset. once, you caught him gently holding one while you were napping, just kind of... inspecting it, completely fascinated.

☆ in contrast, you love his tail. you try not to stare, but sometimes it flicks when he’s annoyed or wags when he’s happy, and you can’t help but notice how cute it is. one time you reached out and touched it without thinking and ted made the most offended noise you’ve ever heard.

☆ cows are herd animals, and while he’s pretty laid back most of the time, if someone makes you uncomfortable, his ears will flick back and his whole demeanor shifts. there’s something kind of terrifying about seeing gentle, sweet ted suddenly standing at his full height, looming, voice all low and serious.

☆ cuddling is a must. ted’s warm, solid, and basically your favorite place to be. his arms wrapped around you, your wings tucked in against his chest — it’s perfect. sometimes he runs his hands over your wings or scratches lightly at your scalp, and you have to stop yourself from making the most embarrassing little noises.

☆ he loves your little webbed hands. sometimes he just holds them and frowns like he’s concentrating really hard. you’ll be talking and he’s just absentmindedly playing with your fingers, stretching them out and brushing over the soft, webbed parts. he thinks they’re the cutest thing in the world, and you swear he gets distracted by them at least once a day.

☆ he’s very much a homebody, and you’re a bit more restless — always pacing, always fussing with something. he’ll watch you with that lazy, affectionate smile, tail flicking slowly, until you finally run out of steam and whining as you flop against him. “got it all out of your system, ducky?” he’ll tease, and you’ll just mumble something into his chest while his arms wrap around you.

☆ when you’re upset, he’s the first to notice. his ears flick back, his tail stills, and suddenly his whole attention is on you. “hey,” he murmurs, voice soft and low, “what’s wrong?” and the second you lean into him, it’s over — you’re getting scooped up and held like the most precious thing in the world.

☆ speaking of, he always knows how to calm you down. when you get overwhelmed, he’s quick to pull you into his lap and rub slow circles into your back, murmuring soft reassurances until your breathing evens out. “it’s okay, ducky. i’ve got you.”

☆ he absolutely lets out soft little moos in his sleep. you found out one night when you were curled up next to him and he let out this deep, soft noise. you didn’t say anything because it was so cute, but you teased him about it the next morning and he got so defensive.

☆ he’s obsessed with your purring (yes, ducks purr by the way). you try so hard to keep it quiet, but he catches it sometimes — when you’re half-asleep, when he’s playing with your hair, when you’re wrapped up in one of his hoodies. it drives him crazy in the best way, and he’ll tease you about it relentlessly. “you happy, ducky?” he’ll coo, grinning when your face goes bright red.

☆ he gives the best kisses (in my humble opinion, better than schlatt and charlie but that’s just me). slow and warm and thorough, like he has all the time in the world. his hands always end up in your hair or trailing along your wings, and when you make those soft little noises against his lips, he melts.

☆ he’s your biggest fan. you get excited about something? he’s listening. you’re nervous about something? he’s right there, reassuring you. you’re flapping your wings and pacing because you’ve got too much energy? he’s watching you like you hung the fucking moon.

“hold still,” ted says softly, his fingers brushing through your feathers with careful attention.

you’re trying. really, you are. but it’s hard when your face is burning and your wings keep twitching under his touch. his big hands move slowly, smoothing and straightening, and it’s so... intimate.

“ted—” your voice is barely above a whisper, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way it wavers.

“you’ve got a lot of loose ones today,” he murmurs, plucking a stray feather and setting it aside. “you okay? you’ve been fussing with your wings all morning.”

“i—yeah, i’m fine,” you manage, but you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last. his hands are so gentle, his focus so intent, and your heart is beating way too fast.

he hums, not entirely convinced. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“yeah,” you breathe, eyes squeezing shut as he smooths down the last of your feathers with a satisfied little sound.

“all done,” he announces, smiling down at you. “feel better?”

you nod quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. “y-yeah. thanks, ted.”

he beams, completely oblivious, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “anytime, ducky.”

Charlie isn’t often very rough with you.

But when you’ve been asking him repeatedly to do so for days, to a point where you purposely piss him off, just so he’ll take it out on you, there’s not much he can do but give you what you both want.

You’re on your knees for him, his cock running over your tongue with the back of your head pressed against the wall of his office.

His hands are tangled in your hair, keeping you in place against the wall as he ruts his hips against you to shove his cock further down your throat.

“Couldn’t even wait…” He growls out, his forehead leaning onto the wall to keep him upright.

“I told you… I would do it once I finished editing.” Charlie grips your throat with his free hand, before moving his other hand in your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you further into his cock.

His tip hits the back of your throat, making you cough and tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you keep going.

As if you would want to stop now.

You can do nothing but breathe around him when you can, being a nice little hole for him.

“You love being my dirty slut, don’t you…” He rasps out rhetorically, not expecting an answer from your pretty mouth which is already in use.

But he doesn’t get one from your lips, he gets his answer from your hands working between your thighs.

Charlie pulling his cock out of your mouth and pulling you up to your feet by your hair and neck.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch yourself after you’ve been such a brat.” He snarls out, a palm slapping both your cheeks to discipline you, soft enough not to hurt too bad, but hard enough to make your thighs clench together.

You just smile lightly at him, drool and saliva streaming down your chin.

His facade of anger cracks for a moment, letting the smallest twinge of a smile in his face, before he’s shoving you onto the couch at the back wall of the room.

Nudging your legs apart with his knees, he settles behind you, pressing your face down into the couch before you can even get your bearings.

Your face was smushed into the cushions, moaning and gasping as Charlie slid his cock inside you in one swift motion. “Char- Charlie-”

“You’re gonna scream for me, baby~” He mumbles, pressing you further into the couch with his body weight, bottoming out entirely and knocking his tip against your cervix.

“Ahh!”

It hurt so good, feeling him reach that deep inside you.

His pace is absolutely unrelenting.

Charlie pistons his hips into you so face you don’t have time to register how long the pressure on your cervix withdraws before another shock of pained pleasure shoots through your core.

You can feel your throat burn as you scream and whine in pleasure, but you’re unable to stop.

His thighs slap against your ass, pounding you into the couch.

“Yeah, you fucking like that.” He says almost like it’s a command, affirming it with a harsh smack to your ass.

Tears stream down your face, catching and falling into your open mouth, upturned in a wide and crazy smile.

His hands grip your hair, pulling it before shoving your face down into the couch. “Such a fucking whore, are you gonna cum?”

You clench your jaw shut, biting down on the fabric of the couch as you feel your own drool wet it.

You couldn’t even feel your orgasm until it was crashing over you, making your legs shake as you heard liquid spraying out around Charlie’s cock.

Was that you?

You felt so good, like you weren’t even in your own body.

Your moans felt muffled and hazy in your own mind.

But your fucked out state didn’t mean he was going to stop, in fact he went harder.

Through the haze you could hear him, desperate and growling as his grip on your hair moved to grip your ass, pulling you back onto him.

Charlie’s thrusts reached a practically inhuman speed, sending you over the edge once again.

How you managed to cum so fast in what seemed like seconds was beyond you.

Everything besides him was beyond you.

Your limbs were jelly in his grip, numb and hanging limply as he just kept fucking you.

He bent over your shoulder, biting down on it and making you whimper.

“Such a good little hole for me~”

Charlie was your everything, your god, the only one that could ever make you feel this good.

Your jaw went slack as sounds released themselves from between your lips without any effort, simply falling from your lungs like an instant response.

Your eyes rolled back before fluttering closed.

Another orgasm?

You couldn’t tell anymore.

Everything between your legs was nothing but cum and pleasure.

You were just a hole for him, a place for him to get off whenever he needed.

You hope when he cums he cums inside you.

And like a fucking mind reader, he locks his arm around your neck and whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna pump you full.”

You feel an aching in your womb that longs for him.

“Oh, you’re clenching so tight around me… You want that?” He teases, slowing for a moment, enough to regain a fraction of your shattered mind. “You wanna make me a daddy?”

“Mhm~” You murmur lamely, pressing your face closer to his.

Charlie tightens his arm around your neck, a moan turning into a feral growl as he regains his ravishing speed.

The small glimmer of real consciousness that returned to you fizzles out almost as quickly as it came.

He hisses in breaths before groaning them out as he pounds your pussy, mumbling nonsense between them.

“Gonna take such good care of you…”

“Make you so happy…”

Charlie’s eyes are glazed over, daydreaming.

He knows he doesn’t have to be worried about cumming inside you, but it’s the thought that counts.

And thinking about cumming inside you is driving him crazy.

Your brain feels like complete mush.

You can barely feel it as you squirt around him again, your vision going white with pleasure.

Charlie’s hips stutter, rutting against your shaking thighs.

The skin of them sticks together from sweat and cum.

His cock twitches and tenses inside you, spilling his load as he pants, his head falling forward in exhaustion. “Hah, hah, hahhh~”

You babble helplessly underneath him, your lungs no longer working overtime to breathe.

You’re not sure what you’re trying to say, maybe your vocal cords still have to readjust to being quiet again.

Charlie’s entire office smells like sex.

The couch is completely soaked with your cum.

He pulls out slowly, watching his cum drool out of your stretched pussy.

Panting slowly, Charlie lifts you from under your waist, wrapping an arm around your stomach and turning you to face him slowly.

Your head lolls back as you shiver and whine at the forced movement on your aching muscles.

“Come here, baby~” He mumbles gently, lying back where you had been and placing you on his chest.

Charlie’s hands pet your hair, keeping it out of your face as he presses kisses to your forehead.

“Did so good…”

You can feel his cum leaking out of you.

The sensation makes you grin.

“You okay, angel?” He asks, cupping your face fondly, wiping the drying tears from your cheeks.

You nod, it’s all you can manage right now.

The two of you lay there, before you managed to mumble a single sentence.

“All… According… To plan.”