Muscling Through Read Online Free Page B

reminiscent of early Lucian Freud—it’s a damned shame you weren’t able to study at the Slade. Although come to think of it, maybe it’s just as well—you seem to have such an instinctive grasp of perspective and composition, I’d hate to see that homogenised out of you. Look—like this one—why did you put the book there?”
    I shrugged. I’d just thought it would look nice. Like, there was a gap there that was book-shaped? But I didn’t say that, ’cause it would’ve sounded silly.
    “And this one—such economy!” Larry looked at me, and I guess I must’ve looked kind of blank. “I mean, you haven’t used many pencil strokes, but you’ve nevertheless created a strong image out of them.”
    “Yeah.” I nodded. “My arm was getting kind of tired.”
    Larry smiled at me. I wanted to kiss him, but I stared at him instead, ’cause I wanted to remember that smile, it was so perfect. Like he was looking at something really beautiful. Even though it was just my ugly mug.
    Then he frowned and looked at his watch, except it wasn’t there ’cause he still wasn’t wearing anything. “What time is it?”
    I got my watch out of my pocket. I don’t wear it while I’m painting ’cause my mum gave it to me when she won on the bingo and I don’t want to ruin it. So I take it off when I’m sketching too, so I won’t forget when I get my paints out. “It’s quarter to eight.”
    “Bugger, bugger, bugger!” Larry hurried over to where he’d left his clothes. His cock was jiggling about, and it made me smile. “Department meeting at eight, dammit! Need to get a bloody shift on.”
    “But we haven’t had dinner or nothing,” I said. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to pick him up and kiss him and do other stuff too.
    “I’ll have to skip it,” Larry said. “Damn, damn, damn. Where the hell are my socks?” Larry was out of the house by ten to eight. He works too hard.
    I cooked up a big pan of pasta so he could eat some when he got home, ’cause he doesn’t eat enough. It’s no wonder he’s so little.
     
     
    The next day, I didn’t have work and Larry didn’t neither, so we had a lie in. We got a big window in our bedroom that faces east or west, whichever side the sun gets up on. I can never remember stuff like that. But it’s great, when it comes through the curtains and falls on us, all warm ’cause we got red curtains. Larry and me picked them out together.
    Larry’s really sweet when he first wakes up. Not when it’s a work day, ’cause he gets a bit grumpy then ’cause he has to hurry. But when we got a day off, he wakes up really slow and happy.
    I always wake up horny, and that morning I was hornier than ever, ’cause we hadn’t done nothing the night before, ’cause Larry had been too tired after his meeting. So when he snuggled up to me, I pulled him on top of me so he could feel how hard I was. I like the way Larry smells in the morning, all warm and a bit sweaty, but clean too. Larry always has a bath before bed. He uses posh soap too, stuff you have to go to a special shop for ’cause they don’t have it in Sainsbury’s. It smells sort of woody. Larry says it’s sandalwood, and it’s called that ’cause of the Latin name. They don’t make sandals out of it or nothing.
    “Mmm,” Larry said. “Someone’s up bright and early.” He pressed his hips down so his cock was rubbing against mine. Then he started kissing all round my neck. I liked that a lot. I liked it even more when he moved down to my chest. He was being a cock-tease, kissing everywhere but my nipples, but I didn’t mind, ’cause I knew he’d get there in the end.
    Then he surprised me by going straight down to my cock, but I wasn’t going to complain about that. Larry’s got a great little mouth. He can’t get all my cock in it, but that don’t matter, ’cause he does great stuff with what he can manage.
    Larry had his hand on my balls, rolling them about. I love it when he does that. He