Filled With Joy

Welcome to my Nude Day 2015 entry. It's a long one, so grab a beverage and maybe a sandwich before diving into it. This story includes graphic depictions of man-on-man sex as the hero wrestles with being a straight guy who enjoys sucking off other guys. There's lots of cumplay, a bit of humiliation, pegging by his girlfriend, and a very big piece of CFNM. If those are your kind of kinks, I think you'll enjoy this story.

"Any life, however long and complicated it may be, actually consists of a single moment — the moment when a man knows forever more who he is." ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Working as the assistant manager at the Sam's Burger Shack paid the bills at the expense of sapping Jacob's spirit. Somewhere there had to be a job for a person with a master's degree in Philosophy that didn't involve flipping burgers. Giving up, he clicked on "Creative Gigs." If he couldn't find a better job, perhaps he could find a cheap thrill?

FEMALE ARTIST NEEDS NUDE MALE MODELS!!!!

Jacob noticed it was a local ad and included a pic. The picture at the top of the ad showed an attractive brunette with long, fat braids on either side of her head. She wore a thin, crochet headband, oversized hippie-chic glasses with a graduated tint, and held a large camera with a long lens. He read the description with a healthy side of skepticism:

I'm Amy and I want to see your junk! I'm serious. And I want to do more than just see it, I want to draw, paint, sculpt, and/or photograph it, too! I am a mixed media artist working on a new show celebrating the essence of men. SERIOUS INQUIRIES ONLY! Expect full nudity, though the final work will never show your face. You must be comfortable being exposed in front of other men. Hard bodies not required. Hard elsewhere is! Expect intense screening process.

Jacob guessed the ad was a joke. Why would a woman as attractive as Amy solicit guys to show-off their junk? The part about being exposed in front of other men suggested some creepy guy hiding behind a picture of a pretty girl; probably some troll. Still, it didn't cost anything to reply? He clicked the appropriate button, copied the generic Craigslist email address, and hesitated before writing his reply. What if it was real? What if she was sincere? Should he include a dick-pic?

Jacob's reply was short: "Saw your Craigslist ad for nude male models and would like more information." He didn't include a picture or alternative contact information.

He received a long, automated reply where Amy insisted she was a real person, a real artist, and the ad wasn't a joke. The email droned on about her artistic vision and purpose, the role of art in modern society, and the taboo of showing full-frontal male nudity in an "erect and excited state."

Near the end of the email, tucked in the body of another paragraph, Amy spelled out another email address without using the tell-tale @ sign or the equally telling ".com" suffix. Jacob thought it was smart how she had forced someone to read the email if they wanted to continue the conversation.

Still doubting it was a real solicitation, he replied with two words to the new email address, "Still interested," before slogging back into the mainstream ads looking for jobs he didn't want or looking for people with skills he didn't have.

He lost another hour questioning his choice of majors before noticing Amy had replied with an email explaining her project: artistically portraying men with erections, with the focus being on their erection. It would be an unpaid modeling session with several models posing at the same time. This email came from a personal account and finished a phone number. When Jacob called, a bright, cheerful voice answered on the second ring.

"Hi, this is Amy. Who's this?"

"Um, Jacob," he replied, taken aback by the friendly, inviting tone in her voice. Should he have played it cool and lied about his name?

"Should I call you 'Um' or 'Jacob?'" she asked, giggling. He heard the sound of traffic in the background as if she was walking along a public street. He guessed that would place her downtown.

"Jake or Jacob works," he replied, smiling. "I'm calling about your art project."

"Those are the only calls I get at this number." Amy sounded excited and eager. "Tell me a bit about yourself."

He wasn't sure where to start. "I'm, um, twenty-seven. I don't have any modeling experience. Dating, but not serious, if that matters. Tall. Brown hair. No visible tattoos." He paused as he realized that last part might not be true. "Well, I do have one tattoo, on my bicep."

"Not interested in your bicep," Amy said. "Are you straight?"

"Yes," he immediately replied.

Her tone changed to the dismissive tone Jacob recognized from calling about job opportunities or following up on submitted resumes. "Completely straight?"

He couldn't remember her specifying sexual preference in her ad. "Mostly straight?" he hedged, unsure where she was going with that question. "I mean, I'm not gay, if that's the kind of guy you're looking for."

"Think you can get hard in front of other men? Will that be a problem?"

"I don't think so. How many other guys?"

"Five or six models and my guardian." Amy giggled again when Jacob interrupted to ask about that last word. "That would be Harold and I'm not sure what else to call him. Bouncer? Bodyguard? He won't be naked, but it makes sense to have someone around if I'm going to be in a room with a bunch of naked guys with hard-ons, right?"

"Definitely."

"So, you'll be in a studio with a bunch of hot lights, naked guys with hard-ons, me, Harold, and my assistant, Honey." She hesitated a moment as if something else had attracted her attention. "Anyway, I need models that can get excited and stay that way. Is that you?"

"I guess," Jacob said, wondering what he was signing up to do. He didn't wonder why he was doing it. Emptiness was enough of an answer for why.

The thrill came back to Amy's voice as she gushed about her artistic vision. "I'm just so tired of seeing flaccid men in art, aren't you?" Jacob had never noticed. "I want to fill an entire gallery with real life dick-pics. And not just pics, but drawings and paintings, too. All of them hard, in all of their glory. I want to shove your dick right up the ass of the art world." Her passion and idealism reminded him of college. "We'll have to meet first, of course. Face-to-face, you know? I'd like to get to know you before we do any modeling. Oh, and I need you to send me a dick-pic, too. I don't need to see your face, just your dick. Can you do that?" she asked. Jacob said he could. "Just send it to this number, okay?"

"I'm guessing you want to see me hard?"

"Should there ever be any other kind of dick pic? Send away and I'll call you back to set-up our meeting," Amy said before ending the call on her end.

Jacob shook his head and sat for a moment as he worked out what he wanted to do. Was he really going to get hard and send an anonymous woman a picture of his dick? He went back to the Craigslist ad and studied her. While wearing those big, oversized hippie-chic sunglasses, it was difficult to get a feel for her. She looked as if she could be anywhere between twenty-something or midway through her forties.

None of it made a lot of sense, but then again, few art students he had known ever had made much sense. Artists felt lost in their own worlds, oblivious to the world-at-large. As an Absurdist, Jacob found them a curious group. The truth was unknowable while they tried explaining it with pretty pictures? Jacob thought their choices added to the noise while hiding behind a sense of mission and purpose.

Getting hard wasn't a challenge, Jacob snapped a picture of his hard-on, sent off his first ever dick-pic, and then caressed his excited cock while trying to decide if he would jerk-off or not. He glanced at the time on his computer for an answer it didn't have.

Without work distracting him for the day, Jacob's time was his own. He stripped naked before replacing his job search with porn. He was still searching for the perfect video inspiration when his phone chirped with a text message. "Perfect," Amy wrote back before calling back to arrange their face-to-face meeting. Picking up his clothes, Jacob and his unsatisfied hard-on took a shower. Jerking off could wait until after he met this strange woman.

Jacob found a downtown parking space near the coffee shop Amy had picked for their meeting. A wrought iron fence created a corral of tables and chairs as if the four legged pieces of furniture could escape. Like the picture in her Craigslist ad, Amy had her thick mane of brown hair parted down the middle of her head and tamed into dual, thick braids on either side. Without her glasses, he saw she was at least ten years older than him and not a single year younger. Her billowy, flowing top still gave her that hippie-chic look. One table away sat a large man in tight t-shirt, too far away to overhear the conversation, but close enough to come to her defense.

"Harold?" Jacob asked, remembering the name of her guardian.

"My companion whenever I'm meeting strange guys," Amy said, all smiles as her eyes worked up and down Jacob. After assuring Jacob everything the coffee shop sold was fair trade, she ordered a complex latte with soy milk.

Without a working knowledge towards silly coffee drinks, Jacob repeated her order before cutting to the chase. "So, what's the catch?"

"No catch. If you're able to give me a Saturday, I think we'll have some fun. If I can get five or six guys to show up, I think that will be perfect. But we never know what the Goddess has planned for us, do we?"

Jacob had released his belief in supernatural beings long before starting his journey towards a philosophy degree. Maybe they existed, but there was no way for man to be certain without making the final sacrifice. And, at that point, a man would no longer be a man? Just the same, he had no problem celebrating her belief. "Your passion feels pure."

Amy's smile grew as bright as the light in her eyes. She leaned across the table, grabbing his hand and giving him a better look down her billowy blouse. "And I want the world to see your passion." She massaged his hand while holding. "I want to capture your lust, your desire. And that's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Sure it is," he said, smiling back as he was infected with her enthusiasm.

"A penis is such a beautiful thing, especially when it's hard and fully erect, the harder the better, too. I love them. I love everything about them. They're a symbol of strength and power while being such a fragile body part. Their power is an illusion revealed every time you see a guy soft and flaccid. I don't want to show that side of your manhood. I want to see the power. I want to see it strong and hard and throbbing. And I want the world to see it, too!"

"I'll do my part," he said, as entertained by her passion as he was by the expression on their server's face while delivering their soy-based lattes.

"And I'll help," Amy said, sipping her coffee and leaving a thin line of foam across her top lip. She wiped it off with a delicate finger, popped her digit between her lips, and licked it clean. It was a tiny gesture filled with suggestion. "I can't wait to see you surrounded by hard dicks."

"What about you, Harold?" Jacob asked the large man in the tight t-shirt drinking water instead of coffee. He never acknowledged Jacob's question.

"He's hard of hearing. Unless he's looking at your lips, he only hears noise," Amy said with a carefree shrug and a playful giggle that didn't carry a hint of cruelty. "He's the strong, silent type."

"Emphasis on strong," Jacob noted, wondering if Harold was lip-reading Amy as she spoke. "Are the other guys as well built?"

"Harold won't be posing, just making sure I stay safe." She waved her hands in the air, signing to the big man. Whatever she said prompted him to nod. "I just told him I felt safe with you."

"He knows what you're planning on doing?" Jacob asked, wondering how that conversation had gone. What was the sign language for showing a man was naked and hard?

"He's fine. It's those prudish critics I want to shock. I can't wait to surround them with a gallery full of hard dicks in all their glory. I expect some to call it pornography, and you know something? I don't care. It will be art, every hard, thrilling, excited prick I can capture will become the art of man."

Jacob fought against his happy grin to sip his latte. How long had it been since he wore a smile this big? Since Joy? He quickly pushed away her memory before it could affect his smile.

"Convince me you won't have a problem being hard in front of other men," Amy requested, cradling her coffee cup in both hands with her long, thin fingers intertwined as if she was drinking from a chalice instead of a cup. "I sort of need to know for sure."

Jacob fiddled with his cup, measuring how much he cared to reveal before settling on, "I've been hard in front of other men before."

"Where they hard, too?" she asked. He nodded. "And?"

"And, um, we had fun," he said, desperately clinging to secrets he had never shared.

"Just once?"

Rather than answer the question, Jacob took another sip of coffee.

Amy took his hand in hers. "I'm not judging you as a person. I'm judging whether you can help me with my art."

"I know," he said with a shrug. "Can I ask about the other guys?"

"Two of them are gay. The others are either bisexual or hetero-flexible. Is that okay?"

He nodded.

"What if one of them wanted to touch you?"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting," he said, knowing he was being an obstructionist. Squeezing his hand, Amy waited. "Is that something you want us to do?"

"I'm not interested in duplicating the work of Robert Mapplethorpe," she assured him. "But I don't want there to be limits. And I want you to feel safe."

"I'll be okay," he said, squeezing her hand. "And I don't think I'll need anyone to help me stay hard. A strong breeze can get me hard."

Amy's delighted laughter made Jacob smile, too. Her next words locked his smile in place, "I want you to pose for me. Please say you will." They worked out the time and place of her studio along with two final requests from her. "I'd like you to consider shaving." And, "I'd like for you to abstain from sex until then." The latter request became more difficult while performing her first request.

Shaving began with Jacob clipping his curly tangles of pubic hair as short as possible. The last time he had shaved down there was because of another artist, an art student he had known his junior year. Joy had complained about stray hairs on her tongue whenever she went down on him.

That was during the time when Jacob's life was filled with Joy. The tall, willowy thin art student became his first, full love while her decadent hedonistic ways tortured him. It had never been her fault. Joy's insistence on living up to her name had made holding on to her as challenging as holding well water pumped without a bucket. Her free-loving zest for life poured over him, slipping through his fingers while splashing him in the face and making his feet muddy. His soul felt forever stained by her.

As Jacob raked away his pubic hair, Joy watched with wide, eager eyes filled with lust and longing. His cock swelled, throbbing because of that look. He struggled with managing his thrill, holding on to it until he had finished and they collapsed into his bed. "I'm not going to last long," he warned between eager kisses.

"I don't care," she said, reaching between them and guiding them inside her hot, wet pussy. Jacob managed a dozen strokes inside the heavenly bliss of her body before reaching his climax. Groaning, he came, pressing deeply inside her while she smiled and peppered his face with kisses.

With his heart still singing her name, Joy let slip one of her casual pinpricks to his heart. "From now on, I think I'll make all my boyfriends shave," she purred, pushing him off so she could caress his freshly bared skin while it was still wet and slick from their sex.

Dating Joy had always meant death by a thousand pinpricks to his heart. Joy couldn't be contained or held, only loosely directed until she found a new direction where she could run fast downhill. She never meant to hurt him. Joy was boundless and never apologized for living her nature. That's just how it went while dating the skinny art student with a slightly crooked smile. She steadfastly refused to remain monogamous. Whenever she slept with a new man outside their relationship, she would dismiss it as if she was performing her civic duty,

I'm only sharing Joy.

Jacob did his best to keep the mood light. With good humor as his only defense against her unintentional hurt, he joked, "I think I'll make every man I date do the same thing."

"Oh baby," she purred as one more kiss healed the tiny hole in his heart. "I love how this feels. We should put some lotion on you." She found some hand lotion inside her big purse and began caressing him. Her hand slipped over and around his cock, across his balls, and then between his legs.

"Whoa," he said, jumping when her slick fingers slipped between his ass cheeks.

"Please?" she begged. "I want to fill you with Joy." She giggled as she slipped a finger inside his butt. When his cock throbbed, she smiled. "Does it feel good, baby?"

"It's different," he hedged, wishing his cock would stop throbbing, except it felt good being touched so intimately by her. "Is this something you do with your other men?"

"It's my first time," she cooed. "Roll over and I'll make you my bitch." At first Jacob refused, but her kisses and gentle teasing got the best of him. "Please, baby. Let me make you mine." Against his better judgement, Jacob rolled on his front and then moved to all fours. Joy added a second finger, deeply probing his backside and created a new thrill he had never known. "I think you like this," she purred, wrapping her free hand around his hard cock. She giggled, teased him, and squealed hoots of laughter as he sprayed his orgasm across his bed sheets.

That began a new way for them to play and Jacob didn't mind. Anything that brought Joy back to his arms was worth doing, including saying "yes" the day she brought a toy into the bedroom. "From my personal collection," she said, stroking the latex dildo as if it were a real cock. She licked the tip of it while giving him a playful look. "And I brought this for you."

"Me?" he asked, unsure if he was ready to advance from probing fingers to something closer to the scale of the real thing.

But he couldn't resist Joy's playful insistence. "You know you want it, bitch boy," she teased, playfully giggling and teasing him with the toy. Before long he was ass up and being filled with her toy. "Take it," she said, giggling as she worked his ass while stroking his long, hard prick. "Take all of it. Tell me how much you love being filled with Joy. You know, if you come from this, it might mean you're gay. Are you? Are you my gay boyfriend? Do you want a real dick up your butt?"

One night she did more than laugh as he sprayed his orgasm. She scooped up long rivulets of his orgasm on her artistic fingers and shoved those fingers inside his mouth. "You should taste it," she insisted. "Is that good? Do you like the taste of cum on your tongue?" She did it the next time, too. And the time after that, she made him curl into a ball so his hard cock pointed at his face while she poked his ass. "Open wide," she purred, tugging on his cock. "Be ready. Take it all." And he did.

He had added maintaining his shaved private parts to his morning routine for her. He kept lube near his bed, in the same drawer where she had left her sex toy. He would suck her cum covered fingers clean when she offered them or curl into a ball at her request for a facial. And he loved it. He loved it as much as he had loved Joy. Their play was their secret, something they shared together and with no one else. He thought that could be enough. It wasn't.