The Porn Artist

Robert got home, sat down at his kitchen table, and immediately pulled out his sketchbook. For the next few minutes he stared at the white, heavily textured paper in front of him.

This called for marker and ink.

He started sketching - first two figures, except he didn't want to draw himself, so it became POV shots. Joseph sucking his cock. Joseph, sitting atop him, grinding against him: face flushed and clothes wrinkled up. He paid special attention to Joseph's fussed-up hair, and that pink, agitated cockhead.

He pushed his chair back and looked at it from afar. The art was bright and vibrant, full of primary colors competing for attention. There seemed to be nothing left to do but to outline it with thick, black ink. Robert took his ink pen and went quickly, hoping for small, subtle mistakes that tainted the work in traditional, physical media.

He picked up the picture. There it was: Joseph grinding on top of him, frotting with him, cocks rubbing together and smearing cum all over each other. Robert surveyed the piece with a technical eye, trying to find flaws. Unsatisfied, he set it down.

He groped his hard cock. He needed a shower. And dinner. He'd been drawing for an hour.

He came back from his shower, his dinner, and did it again, carefully noting Joseph's face when he ejaculated, and their cum, mixing together, dripping. Robert exaggerated the amount of semen to what it had felt like over what was realistic: he made it copious, overflowing, messy. It felt appropriate.

~~~

Robert went to work the next day, walked into the office with his head down. Mason was behind the desk wearing a blaring, neon orange suit. "Hey there!"

"Good morning."

Mason spoke quickly in a way that didn't befit his Southern accent. "Sorry I left so early yesterday. My sister got in a car accident. She's fine though. No scratches or nothing. The car is totaled which is why they were worried about her... I think the hospital just wanted some money."

"Oh." Robert didn't have much to say to that.

"You good working on that poetry book? We need to send it to our client by tomorrow."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." Robert sat down and retrieved his work sketchbook. Today was going to be fine. Today would be -

Joseph walked in. Robert kept his eyes pinned to his desk as he opened up his sketchbook to a fresh, blank page.

"Good morning!" Mason said to him, grinning. "Sorry for leaving work early yesterday. The author sent back her notes. Here, I think we should go over them together... actually..." Mason opened up his laptop and started typing avidly. Joseph paused wordlessly, waiting for his boss to continue. Then: "I emailed you both the document. I think you and Robert should go over it as a team, since you two are better realists than I am."

"Okay." Joseph said, not unenthusiastically. He sat beside Robert at the table and pulled up his phone. Robert pulled his own phone from his pocket, but then Joseph leaned forward, intending to share the view with him. They pulled in together to look at the tiny screen. Robert could feel Joseph's body heat radiating. "It says here," Joseph began, "That they want the colors to be more pastel... and for there to be less linework..."

"I think less linework would be good. You have so many lines it's hard for the eye to focus." Joseph smelled like... lavender? Roses? Did this man use women's soap? "Abstraction and exaggeration would be good, here."

"They wanted my work for it's realism." Joseph sighed.

"Just because it's abstracted doesn't mean it doesn't have shape and space. Ask any animator."

"...you're right. Alright, how does this look...?" Joseph started sketching onto the page with a firm, bold hand. Robert absently watched him work, trying to adjust his half-chub beneath the table. Fuck.

Just then Joseph leaned in even closer to Robert. Still drawing, he mumbled: "Did you draw us when you got home?"

Robert's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed. Looked away to Mason, who was on his laptop, working on a digital painting. His gaze shifted to Joseph's hand in movement, fingers loosely gripping the pencil. "Yes." He whispered.

Robert heard Joseph softly snicker. "I'd like to see them."

Joseph finished his drawing, then, and Robert studied it - or, he tried to. Joseph had put his pencil down, and now had his hand on Robert's knee. The touch was electric. Robert curled his toes, his boner refusing to go down.

"I think... adjusting the character's proportions... isn't the right move..." Joseph nodded, his hand moving up to stroke Robert's inner thigh. Robert found it hard to breathe. "I think that... you know, the realism can remain, and..." he swallowed thickly, "uh, here, let me see if I can find this one artist..." Robert shakily took out his phone, and Joseph's chin was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He swore he could feel Joseph's breath as he spoke. "Are you hard right now?"

Robert's cock was aching.

"Do you touch yourself to your own drawings?" His voice was so soft, tickling his ear, pushing them into their own space away from work. "Or do you think about how tight and hot Mason's ass is... or how eager and wet his mouth is... or do you think of me...?"

The back of Joseph's hand brushed against Robert's cock, which was straining painfully in his pants. Robert cleared his throat and spoke loudly. "See... this is the artist I was referring to. See the way they keep the realistic proportions correct while still abstracting?" Joseph's fingers stroked and played with Robert's cock as he pulled forward and looked at Robert's phone.

"Yeah. Ok. I'll get to work, then."

And suddenly Joseph pulled away, grabbing his sketchbook and standing up to go sit at his own desk. Robert watched him go, then looked back at Mason - still oblivious and at work on his tablet.

Robert sighed and tried to will himself to focus. It was not easy.

~~~

Robert stayed late in the office that day. Done with his work, Joseph left around four thirty, leaving the other two behind. Robert had his illustrations for the poetry book due tomorrow, and he spent time refining and sketching out the cat in the way he figured the poet had described it.

"Hey."

Robert blinked and looked up.

"It's seven."

"What?" Robert blinked and checked his phone. "Oh. I... I'm sorry."

"Is that your piece? It looks done to me." Mason quipped, looking at the gray graphite cat.

"It's not. It needs more contrast... and the details aren't quite... see, the fur isn't..." Robert struggled for words, realizing he was indeed very tired.

He looked up to see Mason frowning. "Do you wanna go get something to eat? My treat."

Robert paused. No one had ever invited him to anything... ever. Well, there was that pizza party he'd been to when he was nine. The boy's mom had made him invite everyone in class. Was that really the last time he'd been out with people...?

"Yeah. Okay." Robert said after a moment.

"You good with Japanese? I'm craving fried rice. Come on, just leave your stuff there. It's due by midnight tomorrow. You'll finish it before then." Mason was strutting toward the door, and Robert couldn't help but notice his round ass, cupped nicely by the orange suit pants he was wearing.

"Sure." Robert stood up and averted his gaze. Mason was smiling pleasantly, holding his folded up suit jacket in his arm, locking the door behind them. The two men walked down the stairs in silence.

Weren't you supposed to try and make conversations with people? Robert hesitated. What would he say? Should he compliment Mason's eccentric outfits? Or say something about how hard work was today... or would that come off as complaining? Maybe ask what painting he was working on? What about -

"It's gonna get cold soon."

Robert looked over at Mason. "Yeah." Fuck. Why couldn't he think of something clever to say?

Mason continued. "It gets really cold at the office. I keep putting maintenance requests for the heater, but they never really fix it. They say they do, but I swear they just look at it and walk away."

"Oh." Robert replied. Fuck. Why couldn't he talk like a normal person? What was wrong with him?

"...Do you like working here? You get along with Joseph alright?"

Robert paused. Mason was smiling demurely. He was still very much unaware of everything that had happened. Robert gave a short nod. "Yeah. He's... he's a great artist. It's an honor to work with him."

"He can come off a little... snobbish."

Robert blinked, unsure how he felt about talking about someone behind their back. Wait, why was Mason saying this - didn't he and Joseph fuck? Wait, did Mason know something? Was he just toying with him?

Mason was still smiling that sweet, innocent smile. Robert drew in a breath. "Yeah. A little."

"He doesn't mean anything by it. I think it's just the way he is."

"Yeah. He's not bad. I... I dunno, I like him."

"That's good." They walked along the street. "We appreciate having you on the team. We've been needing someone else for a while now."

"Thank you." Robert smiled softly. Then: "...was it just you and Joseph before?"

"Uh, yeah. He's actually the one that made me hire someone else. I was about to try and get, like, college interns so I didn't have to pay as much, but... I mean, Joseph made the point that it's good to have someone more permanent, yeah?"

Robert considered that. He was almost beat out by some college kid. "Yeah. Well... thank you." Thank god for Joseph.

"Besides... I think Joseph was tired of doing most of the heavy lifting there..." Robert looked at Mason now, saw that his smile had gotten a little sad. "I mean, I know I'm not the best artist, but... I like what I draw, anyway. And people do commission me. And... I'm getting better at it, too."

Mason looked up at Robert, then, as if asking for approval. Robert nodded. "Yeah. Just keep practicing. You'll get better."

"Probably not as good as ya'll are, but I'll keep working at it. Oh, here's the place... and my apartment is just a few blocks over, if you wanna walk over there with me, afterward."

Robert hesitated. Blinked. "...yeah. Yeah, I can... um, yeah."

Mason's smile was unreadable as they entered the shop.

~~~

Mason's apartment was a cramped, rectangular sliver of a room. A walk up three stories showed a desk facing one wall, a bed right beside it, a tv on top of a dresser across from that. Before that, you had to walk through the kitchen, which was nothing but a fridge, a sink, a stove, and one countertop that competed for space with the microwave. Adjacent to the bedroom/living room was the bathroom, a space so small Robert felt like he was a figure in some shitty parody of a doll house.

Why was he here?

"Do you want to watch some TV?" Mason asked, sitting on his bed, leaning his back against the wall. His suit and tie were off; the first button of his dress shirt undone, exposing more of his neck and throat.

"Hm? Um... we can, I... I guess..." He shifted, and, awkwardly, got in the bed beside Mason. Mason flipped the screen on. Some adultswim show was playing, and the crude animation and obscene language distanced Robert from the show. He was more focused on the fact that he was sitting on his boss's bed, Mason's hand gingerly touching his leg - just like Joseph had done to him this morning.

His heart caught in his throat. He was getting hard.

"Robert..." Mason said, so quiet that Robert wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it. He looked over. Mason was watching TV, his lips moving slowly as he spoke: "Stay the night...?"

"I... um..."

Mason's hands became more exploratory. His fingers slid up, slipped inside of Robert's shirt, caressed his hairy stomach and lingered at his chest. Robert caught his breath, closed his eyes and felt Mason's warm touch sending tingles over his skin. Mason draped a leg over one of Robert's, intertwining them.

Was this work harassment? Was this a fantasy come true? Should he stop this? Oh my god, Mason wanted him... or was he just teasing and playing with him? Was this some sort of trick or a game or -?

Mason started to work on Robert's buttons, patiently undoing them until his shirt hung loose around him. Robert felt exposed as Mason's eyes drank him in, pressing an open palm on his chest.

"Is this ok?" Mason asked, one hand draping around Robert's shoulder, the other beginning to play with his hair and massage his scalp.

"Um... uh..."

Robert gasped, feeling Mason's hard-on press against his outer thigh as he leaned in and pressed his lips into Robert's neck, planting tender kisses on his skin, leaving a trail of heat, then lack, when he'd move up, kissing Robert's jawline. Robert shut his eyes tight.

"Are you ok?"

The question was different. Robert opened his eyes and turned his head. One of Mason's hands had curled to touch his face; the other still had his fingers pulling at his curly hair. Mason was pulled away slightly, surveying Robert's skin cautiously, but with hunger. Robert's cock absolutely ached.

"...yes." Robert answered. Mason looked up at him, still unconvinced, his fingers leaving his hair and going lower, touching and playing with the nape of Robert's neck.

Robert was shaking. With trembling, unsteady hands, he put his arms around Mason's hips. Mason swallowed, then smiled: he sat down on top of Robert, his legs on either side of his. Robert looked up at him, feeling helpless, their cocks pressing against each other through their pants.

"Please... I... I wanna..."

"You do?" Mason mused, smiling, encouraging.

"Yes... fuck... Mason... I..." And he pulled Mason forward. The smaller man lurched, wide eyed, but Robert grabbed him, and then their lips met.

Mason's lips were warm, soft, eager. Mason tilted his head and kissed back in small, light pecks before kissing Robert's lower lip, tugging and sucking at it, then letting go and going back to easy kisses. After a moment he slipped his tongue between Robert's lips, and Robert, unsure what else to do, sucked. Mason moaned into his mouth and started to subtly, slowly grind himself into Robert.

Robert started to unzip Mason's pants. Mason pulled them off in a hurry along with his boxers, and Robert lifted himself up as Mason started to pull down Robert's pants and underwear.

"Oh, fuck."

Mason stared at his cock. Robert bit his lower lip as Mason gazed at it reverently, his hand reaching out to grip the base and slowly stroke it. Mason looked up at Robert, their eyes meeting.

"This thing's like a soda can, dude."

Robert snickered softly, his eyes averting to the wall, then flicking back to Mason, who was still slowly, softly stroking him, looking at his cock with so much hunger and lust. He took his hand off, reached underneath his bed, and grabbed a bottle of lube. He flicked it open.

"I need you inside me."

Robert watched, feeling like a spectator as Mason started liberally drizzling the bottle onto his cock. He winced - it felt cold on his hot skin. His teeth dug into his lower lip as Mason straddled him, grabbed his cock with his hand, and guided it to his hole. He lowered himself down.

"Oh... oh, wow..." Joseph was right. Mason was tight. Hot. He stayed still as Mason whined, taking him in an inch at a time, until their skin met fully. Mason sighed, shut his eyes, and pressed his hands onto Robert's chest, steadying himself, biting his lower lip. "You're so... oh, you're so big... fuck..." Robert felt him clench around his cock, and he inhaled sharply, his cock flexing.

Mason opened his eyes and smiled down at him knowingly. "Are you close already...?"

"I... um..."

"Are you going to cum in my ass?" His body squeezed down on Robert again, playfully. Robert moaned. He looked up at Mason, realizing both their shirts were still on: Mason hadn't bothered to take his off. Mason's fingers bent down and traced Robert's chest, framed nicely by his unbuttoned dress shirt.

"Mason... please... give me a second..."

Mason clenched again, teasing Robert, his muscles contracting deliciously around his cock, massaging his cockhead, almost so tight he wasn't sure if he'd able to cum. His cock flexed again, and Mason moaned. He started to rock his hips back and forth, slowly finding a rhythm. Robert watched as Mason shamelessly ground himself into his body, groaning as he hit his prostate, his own cock bouncing as he started fucking himself onto Robert.

Mason grinned, started to ride him harder. Robert groaned, watching Mason take his pleasure from him - circling his hips around his cock as Mason leaked precum onto Robert's belly, matting up his body hair. He started to whine with every thrust, along with the occasional yelp if he lost his rhythm, moaning open mouthed, using Robert like a dildo -

Robert grabbed Mason's hips. He hesitated for a moment. Then Robert started to push and pull him, fucking him now the way he wanted to. Mason started crying out.

"Oh... fuck yes... fuck me, please, harder, harder -!"

Robert was panting. "Mason... please, I'm gonna cum..." He thrusted his hips up, eliciting more yells and groans from his boss. His boss, that he worked for, on top of him, riding him.

"I want it. Cum inside. Breed me. Please, I need you, fuck me, cum inside...!"

Robert was really shaking Mason now, and Mason started screaming, his ass clenching rhythmically around him as he shot out onto Robert's chest. Joseph hadn't exaggerated; he really was cumming just from getting his ass fucked. Feeling him clench so tight and ride him so hard and watching his cock shoot so much and Robert lost it, too. He came, cursing and howling and screaming out Mason's name, rocking him back and forth as hard as he could and thrusting his hips in all the way and filling Mason up, stuffing him full with shot after shot of his cum. Mason cried out in blissful, perhaps painful pleasure as Robert came, eyes shut tight and mouth open.

A brief moment passed, and Mason opened his eyes and looked down at Robert. The two men made eye contact.

Mason grinned. Warm. Genuine. He leaned down into Robert, burying his face into Robert's neck, and kissed it tiredly.

"We need to do that again..." Mason said in a dreamy, sleepy sort of way. Wait, what time was it?

Robert grimaced as his softening cock slipped out of Mason's ass. He was sweating. Mason's cum was drying on his chest. Mason pulled himself off of Robert but remained curled close to him.

"Are you alright? You need anything...?"

Robert closed his eyes. "...no. I... thank you..."

He heard Mason laugh aloud, and he instantly felt stupid. He turned to his side, unable to keep his eyes open. He would just rest for a little bit. Mason was warm, his back pressed into Robert's chest. Robert wrapped his arm around Mason's waist, feeling his butt press into his spent crotch. They were spooning on the tiny bed. Robert's nose pressed into Mason's hair, and he was surprised that it smelled good. Like... citrus, maybe?

How would he draw this later? POV? Capturing the soft heat of Mason's body in colored pencil: that smile, those whines...

Robert fell asleep sketching Mason's jawline in his mind.

~~~

He opened his eyes. This wasn't his bed. Mason inhaled in front of him. This wasn't his boyfriend. What was he doing? He sat up and struggled to find his phone. His dick felt weird and tacky from the lube. His clothes would need to be ironed out later. Mason rolled over as Robert reached for his phone on the floor

Four in the morning. Five hours to work.

Robert used the light on his phone to find his clothes - his boxer shorts, his pants, his shoes. His socks were long gone. He strapped his belt on and looked around.

Was he being a dick...? No, he'd see Mason tomorrow at nine. He needed to shower and brush his teeth besides. Plus, it's not like they were partners. This was just sex. A mistake. A first time. He had fucked it up, having sex with his boss. What, did he even want to keep his job? His mom wouldn't take him back...