Confessions of an Art Student Read online

  About the Author

  JS Gray was born in the North East of England. After graduating from the University of Huddersfield with a Degree in Fine Art, he moved to the picturesque island of Jersey, where he began to write.

  JS Gray has published many short stories and his first novel, Standing in the Shadows was published in 2015.

  Confessions of an Art Student is his first romance novel.

  Confessions

  of an

  Art Student

  By JS Gray

  Confessions of an Art Student

  Published by JS Gray 2020

  Copyright © JS Gray 2020

  ISBN: 979-9798636878728

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For Mr T… The real-life happy ending to this story.

  Contents

  New Beginnings

  Party

  The Morning After

  Rachel

  Back to College

  The Breakup

  Congratulations?

  London

  A New Year

  Going Out

  Getting On With It

  University Interviews

  Finally Eighteen

  Something New

  Night In With The Boys

  Big News

  What Now?

  The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But The Truth

  Coming Clean

  Back Together?

  Our Show

  Party

  New Beginnings

  I stood naked, in front of the full length mirror of my parent’s bathroom. Not bad, I mused, as I turned slowly this way and that, judging every inch of my body. Contemplating my reflection. The exercise I’d been doing over the last year was really starting to pay off.

  The seventeen year old staring back at me had good reason to be confident.

  It had been several years now since puberty had broken in. The dulcet tones of my voice were controlled, now completely settled after a rocky few weeks of high pitched squeaking back when I was twelve. My six foot frame was as tall as it was going to get. Six foot was tall enough, I guessed. I didn’t yet have enough chest hair, but I hoped that would come in over the next few years or so. Likewise, I had to shave every other day to manage what stubbly growth I had, but I would have liked a thick enough beard coming through to wear designer stubble, opposed to just looking scruffy. My body was slim, but toned; not yet as muscular as I’d liked, but I was still working on it. I couldn’t complain; I’m sure many of my friends would have been happy with it in favour of their own lankiness, shortness or extra puppy fat.

  I cupped my dick and balls, lifting them slightly before then letting them drop. I tugged on my penis. When hard I could get seven inches out of it. Not bad. I’d heard losing weight made your dick look bigger; another reason to stay lean and keep the additional pounds away from my midriff. I had also been using the other trick to improve my appearance down there, and like most modern men, I trimmed and tidied until everything was as neat as possible. I always kept some hair; I still wanted everything to look masculine, if not rugged. With another tug I began teasing myself. I could feel the familiar tingles of my oncoming erection and enjoyed watching myself get bigger.

  Most importantly, my face seemed to be more than acceptable to the general public. I had a somewhat mongrel mix of breeding which gave me unusual features. A little foreign maybe, but definitely still British. My look was memorable and I liked it. I’d never struggled in finding a girlfriend… Last year I’d even had one guy chat me up, which I’d taken as the compliment it was.

  Overall, with a final glance up and down the mirror, I knew I couldn’t complain at what my parents had made, and for that I was grateful.

  Hard now, I began to massage myself, sliding my hand up and down my shaft. It wasn’t my reflection I was masturbating to, but my sheer nakedness. I liked the feel of being naked. The ability to play with myself and see what I was doing. It was liberating to see everything, and imagine what I’d be doing with it given half a chance.

  I hadn’t been a confident child. Nonetheless, I’d always had enough drive to push myself into new places and new situations, often out of boredom over anything else. After years of trying to fit in and be sociable, it now came with relative ease. All in all, I was the archetypical red-blooded, seventeen year old man. I had a good group of friends, and a beautiful girlfriend. Everything was good.

  I thought of Rachel stood naked with me up against the mirror. I imagined taking her from behind, whilst slowly massaging her breasts. The thought was enough to bring me to climax.

  Like most teenagers, I couldn’t wait for Saturday night to come: This week; an eighteenth house party without parents, plenty of alcohol and a host of new people to meet. Wiping down the mirror, I thought about the invite I’d had to stop over afterwards along with Rachel. It was finally going to happen, and I couldn’t wait.

  We had been promised a great night, and one I wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  ***

  I had met Andrew at college just a few weeks earlier, that September. He was the first of many new people that I had introduced myself to since starting on campus at the beginning of term, and was the first one to become a friend.

  Many of my school friends had already started university. Instead, I’d opted to complete a foundation course, as most universities expected the diploma before beginning an art degree. The friends of mine that hadn’t already moved away for University had much better things to do than study Fine Art at the ‘bohemian college’ on the other side of town.

  I was pretty much left to fend for myself out there on my own. A challenge I had tried to look forward to, rather than shying away from.

  Fortunately for me it turned out that Andrew, who happened to sit next to me on my first day, and I had much more in common than just wanting to be the next Gerhard Richter or Jenny Saville.

  As he didn’t know anyone else in the class either, he gravitated to me as much as I did him. Even with our new course being held at the same college where he’d previously studied for his A levels, he was also the only one of his friends that year creative enough to study art full time. He did have a friend or two in most of the other classes at the college and knew a couple of students from the year below. There was a lot going on at the college at the other side of town, and it was exciting.

  Clearly being so likeable and outgoing, I remember thinking immediately that Andrew would be a great friend to have… I didn’t realise at the time how true this would be.

  “So... It’s my birthday at the weekend. My parents are away, and I’m having a house party. If you’re free you can bring a few friends as well if you like.” He asked me a few weeks down the line.

  “Yeah, sure.” I said, looking forward to meeting some of the people he had told me about. Andrew and I had met up at the library a few of times outside of the studio; although we hadn’t met each other’s friends yet. It was all still very new.

  “Cool. You can all crash over as well if you like. Everyone else is. The house is pretty big.”

  Phew, I was relieved that it hadn’t taken too long to be invited to my first party of the term.

 
I’d spoken to my girlfriend Rachel, best friend Danny and a couple of other school friends about it and everyone seemed interested enough to make the effort. They would even make the effort to come back home from university that week. The drive wasn’t too far for most of them, fortunately.

  Just on the cusp of being fully blown adults, house parties had become the next big thing over the course of the previous year. Heading for a night out in town was often hit and miss for us because inevitably at least one of us would get stopped by a bouncer. Not leaving a man behind, we’d all then move on to the next place, fingers crossed, in hope of a couple of pints. When one or two parents had softened to the idea of letting us actually drink alcohol at their homes (or better still, not known about the parties we were having) we all preferred this option. It was less embarrassing than getting turned away in town, and so much more sophisticated than getting drunk on two litre bottles of cider in the park.

  We’d been to a few crazy parties over the summer, taking full advantage of parents holidaying without us, and they were always nights to remember.

  With Andrew’s party to look forward to, I also had the added bonus of Rachel stopping over with me. I was hoping that with a little bit of Dutch courage, and space in what I was told was a large house, we would be keen to take the next step in our relationship.

  Both coming from families with younger children, over the past six months that we had dated we hadn’t had any real privacy of our own. There had been a couple of times in one another’s bedrooms that we’d got as far as touching each other up, but it had all been fully clothed. Very PG.

  Due to my work, and busy college studies, I hadn’t yet made it over to her halls of residence. Like the teenager I was, the closest we had got had happened a few weeks earlier on my bed. Whilst straddling me, Rachel had inadvertently managed to make me climax. With her lips all over my face, she had a hand down between us groping the crotch of my jeans. I couldn’t have stopped it coming if I’d have tried. I think I hid it well, without the obvious reminder that I, like her, was still a virgin. Quite late, I know, but it had taken me long enough to earn the confidence to stand naked in the mirror for so long. If I couldn’t look at myself without clothes on, there was no way I was going to let anyone else.

  Danny, Chris and Dean were also looking forward to coming along. Chris and Dean had never really been able to get any girls to go out with them when we were at school. Only now, with the influx of so many students at fresher’s week, was their luck beginning to change. Danny had fared slightly better throughout his teenage years, but having chosen an apprenticeship over university, hadn’t had the opportunity of fresher’s week that the other two had.

  To date, none of them had secured anything lasting longer than a few dates, so they were all keen to test the theory that alcohol and dark rooms would work in their favour with a room full of strangers.

  A little after seven on that Saturday evening we made our way across town. Protection safely packed in our back pockets, and with Rachel arm in arm, we headed over to Andrew’s house. A twelve pack of lager, a couple of bottles of cheap wine and litre bottle of skankiest looking vodka with two cans of coke; we should be set. Although old enough to be uni students, none of us had yet acquired the taste of anything more sophisticated. Looking back, I really don’t know how any of us stomached the vodka/coke ratio that used to get us utterly wasted so quickly. But, having being teenagers without I.D.s for so long, we were accustomed to drinking whatever we could buy, borrow or steal from our parents, and were happy with it.

  Party

  “Hey… Come in! Glad you could all make it…” Andrew shouted out to us as we headed up the path.

  The party had already started to spill out into the front garden, mostly the smokers, and one or two people having philosophical debates away from the music of the party.

  “Hi!” My friends all beamed back in unison, clearly glad to have received the invite.

  It was kind of nice to have someone new and interesting to show off to my friends; as though I was the popular one that knew everybody. Especially when Andrew seemed much more sophisticated than the rest of us were.

  Walking into the front room was interesting to say the least. Donna Summer was blaring on the old-school record player (which at the time hadn’t yet come back in fashion) and most people were in some sort of sixties/seventies fancy dress. We’d been pre-warned, but told that we didn’t have to bother with an outfit. It was only a loose theme, more so that Andrew had an excuse to play disco records. It was just a chilled out vibe of anything goes.

  He wasn’t lying. The atmosphere was so much more relaxed than we were used to. With the usual knob-heads that we were forced to spend time with at school, our lives up until this point had seemed rather childish in comparison.

  None of this retro atmosphere made any of us feel out of place though. Everyone seemed really nice, and very pleased to have a few new faces to meet.

  One corner of the room was occupied by a couple of drunken girls that had clearly had way too much already. Obviously not taking advice of the suggested party theme, they had come as St. Trinian’s school girls. Well, as Andrew said, anything goes.

  In the other corner there was a group of slightly older people, maybe second or third year university students, or even graduates. They were in the thick of a debate about sexism, it seemed from what I could overhear. For the first time, I felt that I was at a proper, adult party. It felt great.

  Being the great host he was, Andrew introduced us to everyone in the room. He made sure to apologise for Kitty the ‘school girl’, who had just thrown up in his mother’s very expensive looking vase. Ever the laidback, he didn’t see unduly concerned by it.

  The three guys sat around the coffee table looked a little out of place compared to the rest of the room. A little less alternative with a little more football hooligan. Andrew had introduced them as some of his oldest school friends, and on introductions they seemed friendlier than they looked as they continued to roll a joint. Was it going to be one of those parties, I wondered, slightly more interested that before.

  The first room of introductions aside, Andrew very politely asked my friends if he could take me away for a minute, before telling them to help themselves to anything they could find.

  “Oooh look at all that booze.” I heard Dean not-so-quietly whispering. Well, there goes our next invite, I thought to myself shaking my head as I left the room. We really were so immature at times still, I realised.

  “Sorry to drag you away so soon…” He shouted in my ear as we entered the hallway. The loud music had just kicked in and groups of people were now stood pretty much everywhere. I could barely hear him over the noise of 1970s disco tunes.

  “Here…” He pushed me into the downstairs toilet, getting close enough for me to detect the sweet smell of liqueur already on his breath. We must have missed the pre-drinking.

  “What’s up?” I asked, pleased in the fact he could confide in me so soon.

  “I’ve had these feelings… Over the past couple of weeks…” He trailed off, a little shyer than before.

  I took a step back in the tiny closet of a room not certain of where he was going with this. I hadn’t even considered that Andrew might be gay, but I suddenly guessed it was possible. To be truthful, up until then I hadn’t really known anyone that was gay and although it didn’t bother me, I didn’t quite know how to react.

  “Wow Andrew, you’re really drunk, aren’t you!” I teased, pushing him back playfully.

  “So you don’t think I should ask Amelia out then?” He questioned, a little deflated.

  “Ahh, Amelia! Yes. Yes, you should.” I excitedly proclaimed, realising that I didn’t have to have one of those conversations.

  ‌Amelia was a girl in our life study class. Neither of us knew her very well, but as Andrew had seemingly invited most of the college, she said she might turn up later. If she could.

  ‌“Right… I’m going to get myself a drink;
I seem to have a lot of catching up to do!” I said before patting Andrew on the back and leaving the toilet in search of my friends and the beers.

  “Hey. There you are.” Rachel said with a big grin on her face. She came over and gave me a kiss. “…I thought Andrew had stolen you away from me.”

  “Never! But I do need a drink.” I teased.

  "Hurry up, Dean has already drunk his way through half that bottle of Vodka!"

  “Nothing new there then!”

  Wading through so many guests we made our way to the kitchen. It was packed, but people were friendly enough to offer up drinks, pass around nibbles, and basically get to know one another better. It was clear that this party was a mix of Andrew’s varied social groups with people that didn’t yet know one another.

  “Jake?” I asked over the crowded room, not entirely convinced I was right.

  “Oh my god! How are you?” He lit up.

  “I’m good thanks,” I said, “Rachel, this is my best friend from primary school. We used to live next door to one another until he moved away.”

  “Yeah, at the time if felt like I was moving to a different country, but in fact it was about three miles away. Still live there now. Wow, I can’t believe you’re here. How do you know Andrew?…”

  “I’ll leave you two to catch up for a minute,” Rachel whispered, “I’ll go check up on the others.”

  All of my friends seemed to like everyone at the party. Even more remarkably, they also actually seemed to make a good impression somehow. Rachel well-liked by most: She was always sensible enough to be trusted in new company, and could even handle her drink well. But Danny, Chris and Dean together were a nightmare. With alcohol, bloody hell they were even worse. Like the three stooges, they were hilarious as a triple act. But there was no way you could introduce them to your gran, or take them to a family party. Being perfectly honest when really drunk, I could be the worst out of them all, a fact that I was often reminded of by Rachel.