Robnipulate (verb): to touch and/or retouch "Robert Pattinson" with skillful hands, by the use of mechanical means.

You Fic It, We Nip It – Honorable Mention

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Today, we present the second Honorable Mention in our “You Fic It, We Nip It” Contest — Work of Art — written by @heatherels!!

Read ‘Work of Art’ after the Guitar Strum

Work of Art

***My story takes place 5 years after Art moved out of his house and got way better at playing his guitar and singing in public.  And for the sake of spicy, lemony fiction, the characters are disease-free.***

There was music and a masculine voice.  It was smoky and dark.  I was seated in the balcony at a round table with a drink.  I wanted a cigarette but didn’t light it.  There it was again – a soft plucking of strings.  I heard the slow jam of blues.  The sounds were strong and soft at the same time.  I turned toward the stage.  There was a small bluish-purple beam of light.  I followed the beam down through the smoky haze to the lower level.  It splashed across the singer’s face.  His eyes were closed as he sang into the microphone.  His beautiful hands were gentle against the guitar strings.  His lips were very intriguing.  He was singing his own cover version of Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady”.  I took a drink and swallowed the whole scene in slowly.

As the song ended, he thanked the crowd and announced he’d be back after a short break.  He walked around the lower level, talking to people, smiling, taking praise shyly but graciously.  He did not linger.  He stepped to the side bar and ordered a drink.

I sat in my perch, peering down at him, entranced, when suddenly he turned toward the staircase; the very stairs that led directly to my table.  My heart started thundering.  Thump. Thump. THUMP.  The man moved like water.  I was frozen.  As he cleared the last step, he looked up directly into my eyes.  We locked gazes as he continued to edge toward me.  What do I do?  I fought the urge to fidget.  I could not tear my eyes from his.  We seemed like two celestial bodies gravitationally drawn by force.  And then abruptly, a foreign body interjected.  It was another guy who was headed down the stairs and stopped him to talk.  I heard, “Hey man!  I saw you at the Broken Cork last night.  You’re good.”  And then his voice faded.

With our gaze broken, I jerked to look for my purse and in my haste I dropped my cell phone to the floor.  I bent to retrieve it and he was there in a flash.  My phone was in his hand.  His eyes took in my high heels and bare legs and he slowly raised his frame.  He reached his perfect hand toward me.  I reached out, staring at his delicious fingers and touched them as I took back my phone.

“Hello,” he said tentatively, “Here you go.”  Oh my, he was English.  I always had a thing for Englishmen.

I stared at his face, frozen in my trance, and finally shook my head to say, “Th-thank you!  I’m so clumsy.”

He smiled brightly, “Me too.”

“Your show was very nice by the way.  I really enjoyed it.”  I was blushing scarlet, but the low lighting thankfully did not reveal it.

“Thank you.  May I ask, what is your name?  My name is Art,” once again he stretched his glorious hand toward me.  I took it in my grasp and immediately felt the electricity between us.

“Hello Art, I’m Sara, pleased to meet you.”

He motioned toward the empty seat at my table and asked, “May I?”  I nodded my head and smiled sweetly at him.  I wanted to stare at him and take in every line and contour of his face.  He had beautiful bone structure, with a bit of stubble on his jaw, and his hair was flopping down into his eyes.  His blue/green/grey eyes were amazing.  I found myself getting lost in them and then when his gaze met mine, I jumped a little.  How embarrassing!  But he kept his gaze on me and again I could not force my eyes away.  He lowered his chin and lifted his eyebrow and said in a silky voice, “You look lovely tonight Sara.  I’m very happy to be your company at this table.”  Whoa, the hot singer guy is flirting!  With me!  My heart did a back flip.

I swallowed a sip of my drink very slowly and seductively (as best I could) and retorted, “Why thank you Art.  I rather like the company.”  We both smiled and relaxed a little, talking about music, our likes and dislikes, and other interests.  He waved for the server to come over and ordered us drinks.  He told me this was his first trip to America and he was enjoying playing music here.  I told him I had visited England once with my mother and grandmother and how much I loved it.  As we finished our second drinks, he told me that he would love to take my number, but I might not want to give it to him.

“Why is that?” I asked.

He responded, “Well, this is my last night in your town.  I have to go to another gig about 100 miles away tomorrow and on from there.”

“Well, your phone will still work, right?”  I smiled hugely and took out my pen and wrote my number on the inside of his wrist.

He arched that same quirky eyebrow and said, “You’ve marked me.  I like that.”

Sadly, his break was over way too fast and he was descending the stairs again.  He turned around and ran back up, much to my utter surprise and breathed into my ear, “Sara, would you do me the honor of being my guest tonight after the show?  I really want to see what’s under that beautiful dress you’re wearing.”  OH. MY. GOD.

Before I could help myself, I stuttered out a weak, “Yessss.”  He was not so shy after all.  And apparently neither was I.  He kissed my ear and growled a little, “Thank God,” and turned from me again.  I was not going to make it through the encore without bursting.  I ordered another drink and a shot and soaked in the sight of the beautiful singer named Art.

I called my roommate, Tanya, to let her know I wouldn’t be coming home tonight.  She was freaking out because this was something she would do, not me, but was sure to scold me to be careful and all that.  I told her, you know I’m on the pill!  She joked back saying it’s a good thing, you little slut!  I giggled and said I’d call her in the morning.  I saw that the server had brought my drinks while I was on the phone.  As I threw back the shot, I pulled my high heel off one foot and bounced it to the music.

We made our way to his hotel, which was walking distance from the pub.  I was nervous, but felt giddy from the alcohol.  He held my hand and asked if I was sure I wanted to do this, to which I responded with an enthusiastic nod.  We got to the room and he shakily opened the door with the key.  We were both so turned on; I could tell it would not be long before we were tangled in each other’s arms.  He turned on the light and held the door for me to walk through first.  Art took off his shoes and dropped his keys, wallet and phone on the desk.  He leaned his guitar case against the wall.

I motioned toward the bathroom and said, “I just need a moment.”

He smiled and said, “Of course.”

I took a Tic-Tac from my purse hoping that was good enough for my breath and splashed some water on my face.  I was crimson with desire.  It bloomed on my cheeks and traveled down my throat to my breasts.  When I came back out, Art had laid sideways on the bed with his clothes on, his long legs stretched out and one arm under his pillow.  His disheveled hair was fanned out like a lion’s mane.  His eyes were closed and his long lashes touched his soft milky cheeks.  He had a perfect pout in his lips.  I could see the boy still there in his features.  But what set him apart from the boy was his very masculine jaw line.  It was seriously hot – so hot that I found myself wanting to LICK it.

I felt so aware and charged that I literally said to myself – fuck it – you only live once.  So I climbed on the bed and lay next to him.  He actually moaned for a second and his breathing sped.  I stared at him for what seemed like an eternity.  I was barely exhaling and could hear my heartbeat in my eardrums.

I wanted to touch him.  I lifted my hand ever so slowly and put it back down.  I did this a second time.  Oh, I said to myself, come ON!  So one the third try, I kept it moving.  My fingers approached his perfect chiseled jaw.  I could feel the electric current pulsing through my fingertips.  I made contact.  My index finger started at his earlobe and slowly traced the edge of his jaw line to his squared off chin.  It was pure jaw porn heaven.

He still did not move.  I was so alive I swear you could hear me buzzing.  I decided to keep going.  Next, I used two fingers and started at his hairline, moving down his forehead to his brow and around his cheekbone.  He was luscious.  His skin was creamy, both in color and texture.  Below his cheekbone was a 2-day stubble, but that only added to his manly, animal draw.  He was a dichotomy of soft and hard.  I got braver.  I put my thumb in the divot above his lips and pressed down lightly.  As I moved down, I parted his bottom lip from the top one.  My lips parted too.  I was closing in, feeling his sweet breath on my face, his heat.  My pulse was throbbing.

Just then his eyes opened wide and looked right at me.  Before I could even react, he moved up to meet me and pressed his lips into mine.  Oh sweet heaven…they were so soft.  We parted lips, our eyes locked on each other.  His breathing changed rapidly and his pupils dilated.  It was feral.  I wanted it and he knew it.  In seconds he had his hand in my hair crushing me to his mouth.  It was rough and soft, sweet and wet.  Our lips opened and our tongues darted around each other.  My sex was on fire.  Our ragged breaths tore out between hungry smacks and licks.  He pulled me closer, pushing our hips together.  He was already so hard and thick.  Fuck.  I was soaking through my panties.  And our bodies were so hot.  Still kissing in a desperate manner, I touched his hair, and face and neck.  I moved my hand down his broad chest feeling the soft hairs through his t-shirt.  I pinched his nipple… hard.

He swiftly sat us up, gave me a fierce look of lust, and pulled my dress off over my head.  He was not asking – he was taking.  I relished it.  I unhooked my bra and threw it across the room.  He took in the sight of my bare breasts.  I felt hot just having his eyes on me.  He pressed me down slowly on my back and jumped out of the bed to take off his clothing.  I noticed his smooth back and the light clusters of moles and freckles.  He turned around and his chest was hairy but not overly so, and he had a happy trail that was getting my serious attention.  He watched me as he slowly pulled down his jeans and revealed his boxer briefs and a very healthy eager erection.  He slid onto the bed and propped himself up on one arm next to me.  Our eyes stared intently for a moment and then as mine closed, I breathed in deeply his masculine smells.  His hand went to my mouth and he slid two fingers in.  I sucked on his fingers, surrounding them eagerly.  I could hear his breath hitch.  He leaned down and circled my tight nipple with his tongue…and blew.

I sucked harder and whimpered.  He took the fingers out of my mouth and traced one down my torso.  It left a cool, wet line.  Again he leaned over and this time took my whole taught peak into his smoldering mouth.  I moaned and watched him.  His other hand continued, switching fingers, burning a wet line down to my aching center.  My hips twitched in anticipation.  I reached out to his chest and traced my fingers around his nipple and then scratched down his torso.  He moaned low and then he slid his finger under my purple panties and moved slowly down.  He split the center of me with his wet middle finger.  Oh sweet mother of heaven.  It was cool against my white hot clit.  He was sucking my nipple and circling my clit and I was writhing in ecstasy.  I was getting close to begging for more.  We did not speak a word, just hot breaths and moans and whimpers.

He moved his whole body down and pulled my panties off roughly.  I hissed.  He took my panties to his face and inhaled.  It was so hot to see him do it.  He centered between my thighs and pushed them wide.  I could smell my dripping hot sex and so could he.  He boldly inhaled me and buried his face into me.  OH FUCK.  OH GOD.  His tongue licked all the way up and all the way down and back up and then circled my pulsing bundle of nerves.  He repeated this pattern over and over.  My hips started to writhe.  He was devouring me.  His nose was putting pressure on my clit while he parted me further with his fingers and darted his tongue in and out of ME.  Oh sweet heaven, I was so close already.  Then he moved his tongue back up, circling and sucking and put two fingers in me and curled them upward.  OH FUCK ME.

I was all over his face and his hands.  And he was eating me like cake on Christmas.  With the friction of his fingers and his fluttering tongue on my clit, I was right on the edge.  He lifted my hips.  I was writhing hard against his mouth and those gorgeous bones of his face.  I felt like I was flying high and drugged.

In one swift move, he pulled his boxers down.  I could see his swollen thick cock just inches from me.  I wanted to worship him.  He sat up and lifted my hips again and stuck his tongue right inside me!  I was dying!  I finally begged, “Please! Please!”

He said, “You want it?  You want my cock?”  It was commanding.

“Yes PLEASE!”  I begged again in desperation.

He shoved himself so far into me and pumped me long and slick, milking out my impending orgasm.  I started to scream and rocked my hips against him, slapping our skin and bones against each other.  My walls tightened around him and oh…OH…I fell off the edge.  I came so fucking hard.  He was so deep inside me and I could feel myself pulsing around his beautiful cock.  I was completely out of my body and floating somewhere in space with his essence all around me.  It was my own personal heaven.  After a moment, he let me steady myself and laid my hips back down to the bed, making sure to keep himself inside me.  Slowly, Art pulled back and forth.  I was moaning with each sweep.  He leaned down to kiss my mouth and neck.  Back and forth, his body was dancing a rhythm in me.  I met each pulse with increasing eagerness.  He wrapped my legs around his waste and kissed me deeply.  Our thrusts became deeper, stronger and he breathed into my mouth with his eyes locked on mine.  He squeezed them shut and an instant later, he was coming in me, full hot threads.  We couldn’t stop thrusting and shaking.  Our sweat made our bodies a slick, singular machine of lust.  I decided right then and there even if he never called me again, it was worth it.  He was a work of Art and I got to climb into his colorful, beautiful world, even if it was just for one night.


All of the winners’ stories can be found HERE – make sure to change the rating to ALL, or you won’t get any of the rated M stories (read: ALL of the submitted stories).

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