His name was actually Edelard but I ended up calling him Everhard. His dick was really something, and also a huge surprise if you know what I mean. He didn't make much of an impression on me at first, and he didn't look like my type at all. Tall and skinny, too fair skinned by far, and a little feminine looking. He didn't have much going for him, as far I was concerned, but of course I hadn't seen his dick yet.

I'm a portrait painter and I work with oils. I had put an ad in the local paper for an assistant. Actually, I wanted models but when you run that kind of ad you risk getting all sorts of riff raff or flotsam and jetsam. We sure have some wonderfully expressive words in English don't we? I didn't get many applicants, as I wasn't paying much. He was the best of the bunch. I mean you get what you can get don't you? While I wasn't exactly expecting Scarlett Johansson the male equivalent would have been cool.

He showed up on a wet afternoon looking like something the cat dragged in. Of course, he was shivering with cold just like Little Orphan Annie. We have some great stories in the English language too. He, on the other hand, was Dutch and he wanted to be an art student, so he said anyway. I gave him a towel and an old sweater of mine, and then I told him to dry off as I watched him undress. I thought he might possibly have a decent body underneath his baggy clothes, even if he was pale and skinny. I was right the first time. He was pigeon-chested and had nipples like mosquito bites.

Nevertheless, there was something fascinating about his face that I couldn't quite put my finger on. As he dried his long red hair, sitting under the golden light of the reflector, I realized what it was. He looked like a Pre-Raphaelite painting, like a gorgeous Rossetti youth. I asked him if he would pose for me. Of course at this point, it was only his face that I wanted to draw. I had no designs for his body whatsoever.

It was the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship. He would sit patiently in front of me for hours on end and hardly move a muscle. He was the perfect model, yet there was always a strange, far away expression in his eyes. It was as if he were some place else, or on drugs or something. In fact, that's what made his portraits so special and unique, especially the nudes. His thoughts simply seemed to be elsewhere.

He sat holding his delicious meat loaf of a dick as if it didn't really belong to him, like it was an accessory the painter had given him to help complete the picture. It was like the pearl in "The Girl With The Pearl Earring.'' And to think, that juicy sausage of his had been lurking inside his jeans all the time I'd been painting him.

I discovered it originally when he spilled paint all over himself, while he was mixing colors for me. I put some turpentine on a rag and started rubbing away at him, without thinking of the results this simple action was going to have on us. I felt him grow hard beneath the thin cotton of his jeans. I thought I'd better tell him to take them off, as I didn't want any turpentine seeping through to his dick.

His briefs were just as unattractive as the rest of his clothing, and now, there was already a nasty stain across the front of them. What really caught my attention, however, was the huge bulge that was growing inside them. I pulled his briefs down over his thin haunches to reveal the biggest dick I had ever seen, especially on such a slight frame. It was already weeping with pre-cum and I suspect the stain on his briefs came from that, and not from a mixture of paint and turpentine. I knelt there hypnotised watching it rise in front of me like some snake charmer's asp. Somehow or other it found its way inside my mouth. I say 'somehow or other' as I don't exactly know how I fit my mouth around it, but I did. Suddenly this guy, who only a few minutes ago had meant nothing to me, had my head and my dick fairly swooning as that sausage of his sizzled in my oral oven.

His balls were pretty tasty too. In fact I found the whole package appetizing and was soon happily chomping away making a full meal of it. He put his fingers in my ears and jacked off my head, building up a steady rhythm and making little soothing noises as I gurgled and gargled and gagged on his dick. Soon I realized he was speaking to me in Dutch and that turned me on even more. It was so guttural, and so appropriate too. Here I was a well-known and respected portrait painter grovelling in the proverbial gutter, in front of this 'insignificant' twink, like a pig at a trough making the most obscene noises.

I had never heard such sounds come out of my mouth, throat, and especially my nose. My mouth was so full I could hardly breathe, forcing me to snort through my nostrils. God only knows what noises were emanating from my mouth and throat.

I put my hand down the front of my loose cotton pants to grab hold of my dick for immoral support. He chose that moment to push my head down further and speed up his instructions. Now he was speaking double Dutch to me, which also seemed very appropriate as I had a double dose of dick in my mouth, and my own dick jerking off in my hand. My senses and everything else were reeling. My dick was spitting sexual fireworks and Niagara Falls had turned to cream in my mouth. I coughed and choked and spluttered and swallowed, and between us, we flooded the floor of my studio with hot sticky cum juice.

He made me feel so good I wanted to swallow him whole but maybe that was going a bit too far. I'd already swallowed more than I thought I was ever capable of swallowing, and then some. He delivered quite a packet of double cumcream to my front door and made a welcome mat out of my mouth. I wondered whether his back door would be as accommodating. It was worth investigating perhaps. I also wondered what it would be like having that entire dick up my ass. My mind seemed positively boggled thinking my ass might pop a bit too. My juices ran like candle wax at the thought of it even though I just came. No one has ever had that kind of effect on me.

The memory of that 'first sitting' stayed with me for days. From then on he would only pose for me in the nude. He was still the perfect model but I could no longer say he 'hardly moved a muscle.' His dick was in constant motion and so was my mouth. There were a few muscles moving there too. He fucked my mouth two to three times a week and I was feeling my concentration begin to flag not to mention my dick. I was longing for him to pay a little attention to my cock but he didn't seem orally or manually interested, so I finally decided to knock on his back door to see if he'd receive it there. He swallowed it whole before it even sniffed at his letterbox. If anybody ever had an avaricious ass, he did. I buried myself deep in his warm Dutch trench and irrigated it with pre-cum, grinding against him as if I were planting tulip bulbs. He sucked me in deeper, like the earth absorbing water, and I filled him like I've never filled anyone before. I pushed forward widening the yielding inner walls of his secret garden claiming the space for myself. My dick plunged in and out of him like a trowel working its way into the sod. His butt muscles clasped the handle firmly as if to furrow me further up his shaft. Then his ass burst into blossom and his whole body shuddered, as I emptied my fertilizer deep into his soggy soil.

We never said very much during these sessions but our bodies sure did a lot of talking. Christmas came and he had to join his folks in Holland for the vacation. During the time he was away, I put the final touches to some of the portraits. There were five in all representing the various stages in our relationship. Now all that was missing was for him to come back and put some final touches to me. I was incomplete until he had given my ass the meat I knew it was hungry for.

I took it like a man and howled the roof down while he fucked my guts out. Seemed he'd been missing me too. He humped and pumped and pounded at me as if he were auditioning for a porn movie and wanted to impress the director with his stamina. He certainly impressed me and also left an indelible impression on my ass. It was never the same again and he made damn sure I wouldn't go looking elsewhere for anal satisfaction either.

I may be wrong, but after it was all over, he seemed to loose that far away expression, while leaving me feeling like I may have acquired it myself. One thing was certain. His cock was huge. There was no getting away from that.