Porn Posing Couple

Porn Posing Couple

We were hungry and had been driving all day. When the next restaurant came into view, I pulled off the freeway and into the parking lot. We were too hungry to get on the waiting list so we sat at the counter. Even before we ordered, we both noticed a fellow at end the counter who seemed particularly interested in us.

He sat and drank coffee and watched us intently over his coffee cup, constantly, not even pretending to disguise his interest. After awhile it became apparent it wasn't us he was watching, but just Claire. I asked her if she had noticed him studying us so intently, but she dismissed it as my being paranoid and assured me he was just looking at everyone equally.

However, after a few minutes more it was totally obvious that he was clearly paying more attention to us than anyone else in the diner. In fact, he didn't take his eyes off Claire for even a second.

Finally, he walked over to where we were sitting and introduced himself boldly although politely. "I am sorry for staring so, but I am Andre Macron," he said. "I am an artist, and I have to tell you I find your wife's beauty stunning. I would just like to tell you, I would consider it an honor to be able to paint you, nude. I specialize in painting beautiful women, and I have to tell you, sir, that your wife is an incredibly ravishing lady, but you know that already. She simply begs to be painted. I hope it is not too forward of me, but I would consider it a great privilege for you to consider posing for me before you leave this tiny burg."

We were both stunned by this stranger's boldness, but we had opposite reactions to his announcement. My wife was enormously flattered, of course, but I was just pissed off at his audacity, his arrogance. He stood before us and made a gesture as if he was addressing royalty. "I live in a studio apartment over this establishment," he said. Each time he spoke it was as if he was addressing celebrity. Having him even look at my wife was pissing me off, but I have to admit it was also making me proud of how gorgeous she is. To say he was undressing her with his eyes was an incredible understatement. He seemed to look right through her clothing.

Andre Macron stood just over five feet and was rounder than he was tall. "I would be flattered if you would just look at my work," he said.

Claire looked at me with that pleading expression she gets when she wants something but knows I don't. It is a hard one to resist, in fact the one I never can, and the look that guarantees she will always get her way.

"Could we just look?" she said it in that voice that I can't refuse. "Our schedule is flexible. We don't have to be at Domm's until Friday," she said looking up toward his studio apartment above the diner. "Oh please."

I knew even before she asked that we would be viewing his paintings that day. I could see it in her eyes. Flattery is very seductive, and tell a woman she is beautiful and you'll have her full attention and interest immediately and for the rest of the day. Being asked to paint her nude was like her being told she was as exquisite as a Diamond, and I had a good idea we would be staying above the diner at least for as much time as it took to do some sketches of her.

We are nudists, so the nudity was no problem for Claire. She had been naked in front of dozens of people, been featured in the nudist camp's brochures and in some nudist publications, so being naked in front of strangers gave her not even a single pause. To be photographed naked was not difficult for Claire.

Having been a nudist and posed for some camp photographers, I knew she was curious about his 'work' and had no trouble being naked in front of a painter. We followed Andre up the stairs to his room and he stood behind the door, holding it open for us, as if inside was fine china or a treasure chest of gold. He clearly valued what was in that room, and his pride showed right through his pleasant demeanor.

After we entered, we stood stunned. There were paintings everywhere and they were gorgeous. Naked women, modestly posed, stood, sat, reclined, or knelt over water, or on a bed, in perhaps hundreds of paintings that lined the walls, leaned against chairs, or stood on tables.

At the far end of the room, under a skylight window was a chair covered with a drape and a painter's easel standing in front of it, jars of paint, and brushes in a large ceramic jar. The paintings, all of women, were simply exquisite. Every woman was beautiful beyond compare and each looked modest and at ease--though nude--and each seemed natural and incredibly peaceful and poised. They were marvelous paintings, and we both stood quietly, simply gazing around the room in awe, admiring this strange man's work.

"You like them?" he asked quietly.

"They're... They are incredible," Claire said.

"I have others I want you to see," he said, "if you will. They are my passion. I personally think love is the finest thing you can be exposed to, don't you?" he said. "I don't show them to many people, but I thought you would appreciate them. Would you like to see my treasures? They're in here,"he said, standing in front of a small door to the side.

"You want to see?" he asked shyly, unlike the confident the way he'd been at first.

Claire nodded, moving toward the door even before I had a chance to respond. "Of course," she said, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.

He opened the door and let her go in after turning on the light for her. Claire stood quietly just inside the door. "I think sex is life's most artistic act," he said as I entered the small room.

The walls were covered with paintings of couples making love, and they were, as he had said, extremely beautiful. Not one of them seemed pornographic or depraved or crude in any way, but rather celebrations of the deepest form of intimacy, people performing the most fundamental class of human interaction. They were all having intercourse of the most natural and lovely kind. It was a commemoration of human reproduction like I had rarely seen before.

Each painting, like the Kama Sutra, like the wonderful paintings in The Joy Of Sex, were absolute gorgeous tributes to human reproduction. "You like them?" he asked quietly, as if speaking in church.

"I love them," she said.

"Would you consider..., " he started to ask.

"Yes," Claire said without waiting for him to finish. "We would love to," she said. "It would be an honor."

I gazed around the same room, astonished by what I was looking at. I had seen a lot of pornography, but except for The Joy Of Sex and the Kama Sutra I had never seen anything sexual that was so beautiful.

Claire looked at me and her unasked question hung in the air between us. Almost as if I had no choice, I said, "Of course." As if I had no way of refusing, although I knew I did, but for a reason I still don't understand, I wanted to pose for him in his celebration of human sexuality. I wanted to be a part of his erotic collection of human reproduction.

"I would like to do you first," he said to Claire. "Just you."

"Of course," she said, as if that was the only logical conclusion. As if he had told her to start getting naked, she began undressing right there. Andre went straight to his easel and started to prepare his paints. My wife went to the chair and asked him what pose he wanted. He showed her three poses and let her chose one.

The pose she picked was a standing posture, looking over her shoulder. I must admit, she really is lovely and looked absolutely beautiful standing by the chair, which I could see from his quick sketch he was leaving out.

Andre got to painting unbelievably fast and was far along in less than an hour. As I said, she really is stunning, but his painting made her even more amazing than she is. It was a picture from heaven and I just sat back in awe and admired the painting of my naked wife as Andre worked on it quietly.

In two hours the painting of Claire was finished and he stood back and admired what he'd done. She was standing, looking angelic, glancing back over her shoulder, her long blond hair falling nearly to her waist. One leg was slightly bent at the knee, her heel raised a bit off the floor. Her lovely back and bottom dominated the picture, and her long, bare legs drew the viewer's eye.

When he was finished, Claire came back behind the easel and admired the painting he'd done of her. "Gorgeous," she said. "You make me look marvelous. Breathtaking," she said.

"Now, would the two of you do me the honor of posing for my erotic collection?" he asked. We both nodded and I began to undress. He took us to a bed made up and amazingly feminine for a single little bachelor painter who lived alone.

He asked us to simply begin making love and when we got to a position he liked he would ask us to hold it long enough for him to make a sketch. It was certainly the easiest directions I have ever gotten and we began to kiss. He had said he would make a number of sketches and paint on them later.

The first time he asked us to hold the pose was when I was fucking her from behind while she was on her hands and knees. We stayed that way for ten minutes, then he told us to go on.

The second time he stopped us I was on my stomach with my face tight against her pussy with my tongue buried in her snatch. I had a hand on the underside of her thighs next to her mound, pushing her open from there. She had her head back, her mouth open, and her eyes closed.

The third position he stopped us in we were in the lotus position, with her sitting facing me on my lap, her arms around my neck, my erection deep in her pussy as she bounced over my legs. We didn't have to stop fucking to hold the pose, and I simply slowed my movements into her.

He held us in another pose where she was riding me cowgirl and bouncing over my hips. We didn't have to hold it because there was so little movement to our sex. When Claire came he gave us time to recover, then we dressed and said our goodbyes.

When we drove on it was late and we looked for a hotel for us to spend the night. We got a room at a Best Western and at eleven we went in and collapsed on the bed. "It was a very full day," I said.

"What an amazing time," she said, smiling. "Andre is a sensational painter, don't you think?"

"Incredible," I said. "Those were some of the sexiest paintings I have ever seen. You like posing for porn?" I asked.

"I would not call what Andre does porn, although I have nothing against pornography, but what he does is totally artistically erotic," my wife said. "He absolutely celebrates sex with those paintings. Domm and Carlton would love them," she said, referring to the friends we were going to visit near Sacramento.

The next morning we ate at the Best Western Continental Breakfast, then got on the road by eight-thirty. We couldn't wait to tell our friend Domm and his partner all about our day with Andre. When we got to Davis he met us at the front door of his house.

"We have to tell you about our day yesterday," Claire said excitedly as we exchanged hugs. We told our friends all about the day, about Andre, his room of nudes, then about his erotic paintings that he convinced us to pose for.

"Where is this place?" Domm asked.

"Just passed Bakersfield," I said. "Off Hwy 99. Out in the desert, over a diner, totally all by itself away from everything." I told him about Andre's staring at us, how he came over and introduced himself, then told us all about his paintings and showed us his erotic portraits. I told him how we posed for Andre and had sex on his bed while he sketched us.

"So you had sex while this guy sketched you and then painted pictures of you fucking?" Domm said.

"Exactly," I said. "He made four sketches of us screwing," I told him. "He took digital shots of us for skin color and shadows. He said he would paint them later," I said.

We had been friends with Domm for years. He is gay and knows all about our nudist activities and our sexual openness. He has been with his partner for nearly a decade, and we consider them both like family. We refer to them as uncle Domm and Carlton to our children.

He was enthusiastic about our day of posing during sex, and said if we got photos he'd love to see them. We have been nude with Domm and Carlton and had no problem with their seeing our sex paintings or observing us having sex. Their being gay had nothing to do with it, but their being old friends did.

We visited with them, traveled around Sacramento, and talked about the little photographer near Bakersfield, and we promised if we got digital photos we'd share the pictures with them and even send copies.

We had been home for three days when we got a text from Andre and he included the shots he'd taken of all the paintings he'd done. He said to watch for a package and in the mail. Then in two days the painting of Clare standing and the one of us in the lotus position came with UPS.

He told us to keep them both, since he had painted two of each. He also invited us back and we are planning a trip there next spring. Maybe we can pose for more pictures. It is too hot to be in that area in the summer time, so we planned on going in early spring. With the kids now grown and out of the house, we display the lotus painting in our bedroom and the one of her standing in the family room.

The pictures remind us of a very memorable weekend back when we were younger and traveling more than we do now. Every time I look at either one of those paintings, I think about that afternoon and evening out in the California desert, posing for a little man we'd never met before. He was an extraordinary artist who painted beautiful images that still are stunning and bring back memories of a time we hope to never forget. Fucking for a photographer who we had never met before capped a weekend like no other.