I felt as if i was the that one single leaf that trembled in the wind, gently falling into the alone ground when i sat there wearing nothing as i let him paint me, covering myself with my invisible blanket of shame. That would be of no use though, because he could strip me naked with his eyes and see right through me, my body and my scars and i would let him. I would free his hands and let it roam around my body. Painting or not painting i would let him touch me and i wouldn't be bothered in any way of the thought of him being a man as well. I would enjoy it, embrace it and maybe want even more of it. Of him
(This is a small part from the book I'm currently writing. It's a boy x boy book and i hope i won't get any hate for it. Before you plan on reading it i would warn you to carry tissues cuz your eyes are gonna sweat a lot :) have fun)