Chasing His Muse

Fruits! Fucking fruits! It’s like art class all over again. Wait...this is an art class. It’s an art class with tattooed handsome goodness standing in front. Well, this I can live with. I started to paint. Sketching my outlines slow then fast, strong strokes keeping my sketch composition proportional. I can feel him behind me, saying nothing. His warmth hovers on top of me. I close my eyes for a moment then sighed. He lower himself puts his tattooed palm on my shoulder and his lips linger beside my ear. "Be