.. They want to still be there, after they themselves are gone."The shape his need had taken was paint. He had loved the malleability, the texture, of...oil paints from an early age, and played around for fun; but it took until a high-school art class for him to remember just how much he loved it. He began to spend more time practicing, more time experimenting. "I don't claim to have any particular skill," he said. "I just got lucky. All the things they used to tell me about—texture, lighting,. Something cold and greasy--lube--was being spread over my anus, and then none too gently pushed inside."Dammit, Max!" I yelled."Hush."The head of his cock probed my ass hole, gradually insinuating itself inside me. It hurt. I felt myself being stretched, and cried out, but suddenly his glans penis was all the way in, and the pain subsided a little. Slowly, as if feeling its way, the shaft of his cock followed the glans in, an inch at a time. The lube helped. I shivered. It wasn't hurting much. More

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