#husbo

"Hmm?" I hum teasingly, "My pretty boy wants me to admire him, is that it?" I take the time to rake my fingers through your hair, messing it up slightly but intentionally. "I think that can be arranged but..."

My hands trail down from your head to your shoulders, down the expanse of the muscles along your belly to run along your waistband. I dip one finger beneath it, pulling the fabric taught before letting it softly pop back into place, "you'll have to take these off..."

I can't get enough of the way your eyes smolder as you look at me, the hunger that lies there as you glance down to my chest. It's my fault for wearing such a low-cut top, but with assets as big as mine, anything that covers feels constricting. It's complimented by a short, flared skirt which is currently riding up my thighs almost too high.

I'm completely focused on the studies I'm doing; honing my technique on drawing anatomy, specifically muscular anatomy. I have references pulled up on my phone that I occasionally glance to, and my pencil scratches over the paper with practiced precision.

It's you, of course. Who better to draw inspiration from than the man I'm in love with? Your stature and physique are the perfect muse for what I'm working on, and I'm using a combination of photos I've taken as well as screenshots and press photos. I've scoured for every piece of Kotaro I can, and I'm putting my stash to good use.

Currently, I'm referencing a candid I took of you while you were sleeping; your head resting peacefully on your arms while you lay on your belly, broad shoulders at the focus, followed by lean back muscles. I chew on my lower lip as I work, sometimes just seeing these photos makes me weak, but drawing them? Well, that's a whole other thing. I have to pay close attention to every little detail about you, every ridge and curve, every minute thing. I've gained intimate knowledge about your body this way, as if I hadn't already had it.

When you clear your throat I can't help but jolt and yelp in surprise. My head whips around so I can look at who this intruder is just as you speak. My expression softens when I realize it's you. "Bo! You scared me!" I chastise playfully with a giggle and a smile.

And then you're leaning over me, and heat floods my face at your proximity. You smell slightly like soap, from your after-practice shower I assume, though your hair is styled as usual. You're so handsome, I almost can't believe it as my eyes trace over the features of your face.