It was in junior high school (JHS 109) that some “artistic” talent first emerged. Now mind you, I had already shown some merit in grammar school (and no doubt I'll write about that [if I haven't already] someday). However, this was talent of a different sort.

Now mind you, I REALLY don't like to draw. I love to paint, but drawing leaves me cold. I find it a necessary prerequisite for painting a picture, but it is not an activity I enjoy, but in seventh or eighth grade, all that was available to me was drawing, most of which were crappy still-lifes (although I do remember drawing a still life of junk - garbage cans, old boxes, etc. - that I thought was pretty cool - a rebellion against flowers and fruit).

And then I drew a woman (in a bathing suit). A woman with round, full tits. Beautiful tits. Perfect tits. They were a marvel.

All the boys in the class thought that the drawing was terrific, especially those lifelike tits. (Perhaps the drudgery of drawing fruit was of some merit after all!)

I remember a thrill in creating something so real, and a stirring that was exciting and forbidden.

Such was the beginning of what would become my obsession with naked women, with drawing naked women, and ultimately painting naked women. Naked painting. Naked paintings.

Although, not nearly as forbidden as creating those first tits were, I still find myself excited when I paint them. I have on more than a few occasions felt an erection stirring in my pants. Making love with a paintbrush. Fucking with paint.

Naked painting.

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