The Artist

Noah Talbot was searching the Morristown Flea Market as he usually did most Saturday afternoons. The art student was on an extremely tight budget so he found the flea markwt the perfect location to buy items for collages, canvases to paint over, and other sorted and sundry items that helped him complete the ever increasing projects from his professors. He loved searching and finding new things to spark his creativity, but he also loved seeing the crowds and capturing quick sketches, because his true love was drawing. He imagined himself one day being a great graphic novelist, but his family had insisted that he had to have a formal education, so here he was on a bright June Saturday looking through table after table of miscellaneous junk. Several of the dealers knew him by name and he heard a woman's voice call to him,

"Noah, you will to come here please, I have something very good for you..."

Noah looked in the direction of the voice, and saw the eccentric owner of the Flea Market, Miss Helga Vartunnen. She maintained a booth, but rarely sold anything unless the potential customer ammused or impressed her. It had taken Noah months of asking before he had been allowed to purchase anything, but now the slight elderly lady who wore two sweaters over her flowing cotton dress and who today had adorned herself in at least 50 necklaces that glittered and tangled in the sun thought of the student as a kindred spirit and always had something for him to buy. usually her finds were just what he needed to complete his latest project, so he was always eager to have her call him to her booth.

"You see, I have something, help you be great artist... for you today, no charge, come see, come see..."

Noah looked at the box that Miss helga had motioned to, which was partially tucked under her table.

"It come from a very great man, held by his daughter after he die, until I give to you."

Noah looked down at a box of art supplies, canvases, watercolors, sketch books, and more. He picked up a box of drawing pencils that looked to date from the 1950's and glanced at the graphics on the box. A smiling boy and girl sat drawing while above a caption read "Evertrue Drawing Pencils, making dreams reality since 1866."

Well, Noah thought, I could certainly use all these things, and the price is right, so why not? He thanked Miss Helga, and picking up the box, he walked back to his car and drove back to the attic apartment that he called home. He looked around the tiny, cluttered apartment, and placing the box near the desk that sat by the only window, decided that he would do a little sketching once he took a little nap. He often drew after sleeping, trying to capture the fantastic vivid dreams he usually had. Noah dropped down on his unmade bed, and quickly fell into a deep heavy sleep. When he woke, he noticed that a sketch pad and the pencils were set on top of the desk.

"Hmm," he thought, "must have been more tired then I thought, I don't remember putting those out..."

He walked to the sketch book and opened the cover. to his suprise, the first page was already full with a drawing in his bold, sure style. He looked at the page, sure that he hadn't drawn anything in the sketchbook, but there was no denying that this was his work. The page conatained a drawing of his room as it would appear if he were to turn his head, and glance over his shoulder. A figure stood in the center of the page, holding a sketchbook and looking down, with a puzzled look on his face. The face looked familiar to Noah, like his own, but somehow thicker, more square jawed, handsome in a very male way. The body in no way resembled Noah's short slight build. This man had a thick, hulking body, heavy in the way of a powerlifter or linebacker, barrel chest, thick limbed, with a wonderous, heavy ball gut that peeped from under the stained wife beater that seemed ready to shred off the brutish man's body. Heavy tribal tattoos arced down both arms, and Noah saw tufts of hair on the shoulders and arms, and a thatch of heavy dark hair pushing out of the top of the shirt.

As Noah looked at the page, he thought, "Wow, I really am out of it, this is great, and wouldn't I like to have this kind of bulk and power..."

He felt the room getting hotter and reached his hand forward to open the window. In doing so, he saw that the arm on the latch was not his arm. It was thick, it was hairy, it was covered in a black swirling tattoo... it was the arm of the man in his sketch. Still clutching the pad, Noah ran to the bathroom, the only place that had a mirror in the apartment. There reflected back at him was the man from the drawing, shaved head, thick goatee and all. How could this be he wondered... how had this drawing come to be real? He raced back to the desk and saw that the pencils on the desktop were the Evertrue pencils Miss Helga had given him.

If the drawing had been made with Miss Helga's supplies he thought, then maybe she would have the answers. Grabbing the sketchbook and pencils Noah moved down the stairs two at a time, pausing to catch his breath at the second landing, as he tried to adjust himself to the unexpected bulk of this new form. Reaching his car, he paused trying to adjust the seat in his little subcompact, but to no avail, his bulk just wouldn't fit... he thought for a moment, and glancing at the sketchbook and pencils, thought, well why not, it apparently worked once....

Using the roof of the car as a work surface, Noah began sketching with his firm hand. Soon the figure of the bulky, muscular man stood in front of a huge jacked up pickup truck, flames painted on the hood, heavy spotlights on top, with a menacing brush guard that looked like open jaws with sharp spiky teeth. Holding the sketchbook up to his eyes to just tweak a detail or two, Noah smiled at his own foolhardiness. But when he lowered the sketchbook the truck of his dreams stood in the spot where moments before his rusty Honda had stood.

"No way," he thought, "this is awesome...I wonder what else I can do?"

Noah scratched his heavy goateed jaw as he contemplated. suddenly he knew what he desired. He would see how much his dreams came true. He sat and sketched. he sketched a loft space filled with light, furnished with low slung contemporary furniture, and lounging across the sofa he drew the sexiest man that he knew, Taylor Adams. Taylor was the epitome of the all American stud, tall, blond, muscular. He lay glistening with sweat clad only in his silver and black football pants across the long white sofa. From inside teh truck he heard the ring of a cell phone. Opening the door, he picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"Babe, where are you, I'm at your place, and I'm damn hot and sweaty, need you to get up here and take care of me big man..."

"Who is this?"

"Man. what guys do you have calling you big ass, telling you they're waiting and ready..."

"Taylor?" Noah said with a grin, "I'm right downstairs, be up in a minute..."

Noah temporarily abandoned his mission to find Miss Helga and bounded back up the stairs.

He threw open the door to his apartment, and sure enough,the place was transformed. Lying on his sofa was a very sweaty, very hot Taylor Adams, his football pants undone, his hand stroking his half hard dick. Noah looked at his perfect dream stud, and he thought, hey why not... so he pulled open the sketchbook and began feverishly drawing... he gave Taylor thicker, deeper pecs, he sketched erect, protruding nipples, he added to taylors already prodigious dick, ass, and legs, and he drew swirling arm band tattoos and kanji on Taylor's now swollen arms... he also drew himself into the picture, bigger, more freakish, with further tattoos and piercings. He drew Taylor a leather harness and ball gag, and gave himself studded leather pants and tall jackboots. He could feel his own body swell, could feel the constriction of the leather and the breeze on his now pierced and heavy nipples.

Noah put down the pad and saw taylor kneeling at his feet gagged and looking up with longing at his muscle master. Noah roughly pulled the gag from his slave and said in a rough, heavy voice,

"Good boy, waiting, now lick my boots and then I will decide what you get to do next..."

He looked down at his feet and saw the blond beautiful man, licking hungrily, glancing up every once in a while with lust and longing in his eyes. Eventually, as he felt ready Noah undid the buttons on his leather pants and pulling out his red throbbing cock allowed his slave to lick his way up the pants until Taylor's mouth greedily took his cock in his mouth and began licking and stroking until Noah felt the heat and pressure of his cum go down the compliant man's throat.

Noah allowed his slave to rise and guiding him by the harness, led him to the bed. There he teased and played with Taylor, bringing them both to the point of shooting their loads and then denying the submissive the pleasure, until finally with a grunt he sprayed the blond man with his cum, and allowed Taylor release as well. Both men fell into a deep sleep, with Taylor's head lying on his master's lap.

When Noah awoke, he looked at the sloping ceiling of his old apartment, and thought, wow it all was just a dream... he thought that until he heard the footsteps on the stair, and the enhanced version of Taylor entered the apartment, carrying groceries, clad in a skintight underarmour tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that threatened to break loose at any moment.

"Hey baby", he said," I went as to to get you your breakfast, let me get it started, I'm so sorry if I woke you..."

Noah looked at the pad, and there was one final drawing, a drawing of himself and Taylor, both thick, both enhanced, both equally aroused, lying in each others arms... the hand was less sure, the style ameturish, with a phrase at the top, "Lovers forever..."

Taylor brought Noah a plate with breakfast, and looking down at the pad said,

"Hey, i hope you don't mind, when I woke up I just had to draw you something. I know I'm no good but I want you to know how I've been feeling..."

With that Noah kissed the big blond man, and folding closed the cover of the pad knew that this, true love was the dream he wished most to be real.