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A favorite author of mine, HeyAll, wrote a story called “Held Together With Mom” using the theme of a son and mother posing nude for an art class. I liked it and suggested in the comments section that we all thank him by writing a story using the theme — nude artist model. Here is my effort. Be sure to check out HeyAll’s work.
All characters are eighteen and over.
“Oh God! I’m not sure I can hold back any longer!” Gavin said to himself.
He was on edge. His legs were shaking and his hard dick ached. The tip of his cock was pressed against Mallory’s sex. He was knocking on the door of her vaginal tunnel. He so wanted to thrust it into the beautiful woman. She was the girl of his dreams and she was naked and bent over, ass in the air, in front of him, but he dared not because a dozen people were watching.
His better nature told him to resist the carnal urge to take her. His baser nature was shouting, “Do it! Fuck her! You want to. Look at the cream dripping out of her pussy. She’s ready. She wants it as badly as you do!”
Mallory was naked, vulnerable and excited. She was bent over at the waist presenting her luscious ass to her friend Gavin. His prick was pressed against her sex. She was in as much distress as he was.
Her mind raced. “God! This is torture! I want his cock so badly! His dick is between my lady lips. One thrust, a simple flick of his hips, would bury his cock in me to the hilt. The anticipation is killing me. I know it will feel great. This is such exquisite agony!”.
Then she had a scary thought that chilled her to the bone. “What if he doesn’t shove his fat cock in me?”.
May (earlier that year)
“Hi, Mallory,” Gavin said. The twenty-year-old had come down to the community mailboxes to get his family’s mail and found the soon-to-be high school graduate staring at a letter.
He was glad to see her. He was always pleased to see her. He’d had a crush on this pretty, young woman for years. They lived on the same street and had gone to the same high school. When she was starting her sophomore year, he moved to town and began his junior year. He was attracted to her from the first time he met her at the bus stop. She liked him too, but only as a friend. He was never able to break out of the friend zone.
She had a steady boyfriend, Parker, all during high school. Parker was a good guy. He was also tall, handsome, and powerfully built. He lettered in three sports and was the captain of the baseball team his senior year.
Gavin couldn’t compete with him. He was tall, thin and unathletic. He was in the science club and his biggest high school accomplishment was being a second tier writer for the school newspaper.
Mallory had had a stellar high school career. The hot blond was a cheerleader. She’d been selected the homecoming queen. She and Parker were the king and queen of the senior prom. She’s also played the lead in several school plays.
“Hello, college boy,” Mallory replied. She gave him a quick smile and then again focused on her mail.
He gathered his family’s mail and asked, “What are you looking at?”
She was troubled and said, “It’s a letter from the state university. Last month, they sent me a letter saying I was wait listed. This could be the final determination.”
She’d anxiously been waiting to find out if she’d been accepted. Her hand trembled as she opened it. Moments later, she shouted excitedly, “I’m in! I’ve been accepted.”
She began jumping up and down. She hopped over to Gavin and hugged him. It felt great to be in her arms. Her soft, full breasts felt great against his chest. Her hard nipples scored his upper trunk as she repeatedly leaped. The letter slipped from her hand.
“That’s great news,” he said. He joked and added, “Since we’re going to the same school again, I guess this means we can share a seat on the bus like before.”
She laughed and pulled away. That wouldn’t be happening. They both had cars now, but it was funny. They had sat together and talked as they rode to McKinley High every school day for two years.
Gavin picked up the letter. He glanced at it and said, “This is a conditional acceptance letter.”
“I saw that,” she said. “Doesn’t that mean I have to keep my grades up and graduate?”
He read the letter and said, “Yes, but before they allow you into their graphic arts program, they are requiring that you take a drawing class. You took music and theater classes in high school. They want you to take and pass a college 100 level Art class.”
“As long as you do,” Gavin said, “you can start school in September.”
“Where can I go?”
“The State U has two summer sessions. Maymester is going on now. The next one starts in June.”
“God! I hope they have the class I need,” she said suddenly afraid she wouldn’t be going to college in the fall.
“We can check and get you enrolled right now.”
“Would you help me?” Mallory asked. “I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Sure. casino şirketleri Come with me. I can do it on-line at my house.”
“Thanks. You’ve always been such a good friend.”
He smiled. She didn’t notice he flinched when she said the word “friend”. As they walked to his house, he asked, “How’s Parker?”
“Great,” she said. “He’s been drafted by Phillies.”
“Yes,” she said. “When he graduates, he’ll play in the summer league. He’s hoping he’ll be invited to Spring training in Florida, where he’ll have a shot at making the big club.”
“Wow. That’s great, but that’s going to be tough on you with him out of town.”
“We broke up.”
He looked at her. The surprise showed on his face. She giggled embarrassed and said, “I know. It’s shocking. He’s a great guy. We dated for three years. I broke up with him and he never did anything wrong. He was the perfect boyfriend.”
She smiled sheepishly, shrugged her shoulders and said, “I love him, but he was my first and only boyfriend, practically the only guy I’ve kissed.
“What was I to do? Marry him? I’m only eighteen. I thought about it, but I dread that one day, in two years, five years, or some time, I’ll wake up and say ‘I never experienced life.’ . So I broke up with him. Now he’s free to go anywhere to pursue his baseball dream and I’m living life as a single girl.”
He thought, “This could be my chance”. He asked, “That had to have been a difficult conversation.”
She recalled that day. It was awkward.
^^^ (Earlier that month) ^^^
Parker said, “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yes. I have to, ” Mallory said. She was sad.
“You say I didn’t do anything wrong? And there’s no other guy?” he asked confused.
“You’re great and there is no one else. I’m doing this for me. We dated all through high school. It was wonderful, but also limiting. This may sound ungrateful, but there were some many things that I never got to do because it was always me and you.”
She teared up and said, “I love you. I treasure the time we spent together. But you know what I mean, don’t you? You didn’t get to hang with your guys or go hunting, fishing or do other stuff because you were with me. How many pretty girls didn’t you date or kiss because of me?”
“Yes, but I didn’t mind,” he said sincerely.
She believed he meant it today. “I worry that later on you might change your mind and then what? This is the time we are supposed to explore and experiment.”
A light bulb came on in his head. He loved her so and he knew he’d never regret not kissing or sleeping with another woman. He said, “You feel that way, don’t you? Those are your concerns. Your regrets.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”
Tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head no. He wiped away her tears and accepted it. He knew her very well. She didn’t make spur of the moment decisions. He knew she would have thought this through carefully and that her decision would be final.
“So this is goodbye?” he asked.
“I love you. I respect your decision. Can we …” His voice trailed off. “What?”
“Can we make love one last time?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’d like that.”
They made love passionately. She sucked his cock. He ate her to an orgasm. She rode him and he played with her tits. Then, he turned her around and pounded her doggie-style. They both orgasmed.
After they came down from the high, they kissed goodbye and wished each other well.
Since then, they’d seen each other and said hello, but that was all.
^^^ (Back to the present) ^^^
Since she hadn’t answered, Gavin repeated his words, “I bet that conversation was hard for both of you.”
His voice brought her back to the present. She wiped a tear from her eye and said, “Yes, it was. I had to do it for me. He understood. We made love one last time and then parted ways.”
They walked in silence. They arrived at his house and went to his room. He fired up his computer and checked out the summer course offerings.
“There are lots of 100 level summer drawing classes,” Gaven said. He scrolled through them.
“We’ll skip the ones that have already started. That leaves five starting in June. Three are full. So you have a choice of “Intro to Basic Drawing” that meets at one o’clock or “Intro to Figure Drawing” which meets at seven p.m.”
Mallory said, “I have a daytime job lined up for the summer. I’d hate to pass up the money. Put me down for the evening class.”
Gavin started typing. “What’s your email address?”
She gave it to him. A few minutes later he said, “There. You’re all set up. You’ll get an email confirmation in a day or two.”
“Wonderful. Thanks for hooking me up.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I hope you don’t mind, but I signed up too. They encourage engineering students to take courses in other fields so we get a well-rounded college experience. I need to casino firmaları take an elective. I don’t know much about art, but I figure even if the subject isn’t fun, having a friend in class will make it bearable.”
“I get that totally. Not a problem. And we can carpool.”
They both laughed. He was relieved that she wasn’t upset that he put himself in her class. What he’d said was true. He left out the part about ‘Why not take a class with the hot girl who’s recently broken up with her boyfriend. You know, the one you’ve always had a crush on?’.
The drawing class met on Tuesdays and Thursday at 7 p.m. Gavin and Mallory did ride to class together. He drove. They arrived early for the first class so he could show her around the campus.
“This is a pretty place. I like the buildings. They’re medieval looking, ” she said.
He laughed gently and said, “Most university buildings in the US are built in the collegiate Gothic style. They look like castles. Even the new buildings look old.”
“This one has our class,” he said, pointing off to the left to one of the distinguished looking stone structures. It had turrets on each end.
They went inside and found their classroom. It was a well lite, open space. A dozen tables and easels surrounded a center stage. A few other people were there. Mal and Gavin sat at adjoining desks and waited for the class to start. By the time the teacher walked in, all fourteen desks were occupied by five women and nine men.
“Bonsoir! Good evening, class,” the instructor said loudly with a hint of a French accent. She walked to the stage, smiled at them and said, “My name is Marie Nemours and this class is an introduction to figure drawing.
“If that’s not what you’re here for, you, mon amie, are in the wrong room.”
The class laughed. Mallory whispered to Gavin, “I like her.”
When the laughter died out, the teacher asked rhetorically, “Why study drawing?”
She paused and then said, “Because drawing is the father of architecture, sculpture, and painting. It is fundamental to the creative process. Drawing is essential to artistic training.
“My teaching style is to have you learn by doing. I will teach you basic principles and you will draw beaucoup. How do you say? Lots.
“I will not grade you on your work per say, but on your mastery of drawing techniques and effectiveness. Did you accomplish what you set out to do? How well were you able to communicate with the audience. In short, did they get it? I don’t care if they liked it. It doesn’t matter if I like it. What matters is did we understand what you were trying to say?
“This is a figure drawing class so we will be drawing the human form. If you have an issue with nudity, you should leave now and withdraw from this class. You will be required to draw nude models.”
Marie paused and looked around the room. No one made to leave. “Bon. Good. You probably have all heard about the state’s budget issues with pension liabilities and the push to find money for pre-K education. The budget of the university has been cut and we are affected. We do not have money to hire models for the summer art classes.
“Our only option is for you to take turns being models. I know because I checked, that everyone in the class is over eighteen. If it is a problem for you to pose in the nude, you should leave now.”
They all heard the sound of chairs sliding on concrete. Two students, a skinny Asian female and a woman wearing a hijab, the Muslim headscarf, stood. They gathered their things and left.
The teacher was silent as they left the classroom. Then she apologized to the class, “I’m sorry, but Art is always the first discipline to be cut.” She smiled and added, “We’ll have to bear it. Pardon the pun.”
Gavin felt like leaving. He said to himself, “I’d never have signed up if I knew I had to be naked in front of the whole class.” He looked over at his friend. She looked troubled.
She whispered “I’m between a rock and a hard place. I didn’t like the idea of getting naked, but if I dropped out, I won’t be accepted into the university.”
“That’s right,” he thought. “She’ll be naked!”
Suddenly, the whole forced nudity idea didn’t sound so bad to Gavin. He told himself, “All right! Mallory has to take this class which means she has to get naked. I’ll put up with any amount of embarrassment to see her hot body”.
He gave the woman he’d had a crush on for years a sympathetic look and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you through it all.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re such a good friend!”
The teacher started her lecture concerning basic drawing techniques. She demonstrated them drawing on her computer which projected them to screens in the studio. Then she said, “Let’s use the basic techniques I’ve shown you. For our first exercise, draw your hand. Right or left. It doesn’t matter. Do it in pencil, pen, charcoal or a crayon. You have ten minutes.”
She left the stage and walked among her students. She looked. güvenilir casino She smiled. She did not comment.
Gavin whispered, “I’m nervous. Our first project. I can’t draw. “
Brenda giggled and said, “What about me? The university sent me an official letter saying I don’t know how to draw!”
They laughed and gave it a go. It was difficult for Gavin. Less so for Mallory because she had talent and an artistic temperament.
“Time’s up!” the teacher announced pleasantly.
Up on the monitors appeared a child’s sketch. Marie said, “This is a five-year-old’s drawing of her hand. The lines are shaky. The hand has three fingers, but she has succeeded. We understand what she wanted to convey. She did so in a cute manner.”
Next popped up a series of well known renditions of hands. There was Durer’s famous drawing of “Praying Hands”, the communist symbol of a Clenched Fist and the hands from Michelangelo’s painting on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling.
Marie said, “Here are other drawings. They are more accurate and realistic depictions of hands. All the drawings tell a story. Whimsy. Reverence. Power. La vie, life. That is what Art is all about. Expressing yourself.
“The better you can draw, the better you’re able to tell your story.
“For the next exercise, I will need a model. We’ll do this alphabetically. Abigail Adams will be our first model. Please disrobe and come to the stage.”
A plain looking, skinny woman of average height stood. She appeared to be anxious. She had on a sporty, navy chemise made of cotton jersey. The brown haired teenager slowly pulled the dress over her head. Underneath she had on matching navy colored panties. She hesitated before dispensed with them.
She placed her dress and underwear on her chair. She was flat-chested and hadn’t bothered to wear a bra. The nervous woman walked on stage. Her body was without curves and was very pale.
“How … How do you want me?” she asked stuttering.
She had a boyish figure, no breasts, and no butt to speak of and small pink nipples. She was shaved below. Gavin wondered why she’d removed her pubic hair. She didn’t have a pretty face and she didn’t have any appealing feminine parts. He couldn’t imagine she was popular with the guys so why did she bother to shave her sex?
Marie went to a box that sat beside the stage. It contained props. She grabbed a tutu and said, “You are slender like a danseur. Pose like a ballerina wearing this.” She handed it to Abigail.
The student put it on. The teacher then posed her. She said, “Put your right foot in front of your left. Raise your arms and make a circle above your head. That’s right. Fingers touching. Bon.”
Everyone in the class had a different view of Abigail because they encircled her.
“Sketch, mon amies.”
Gavin stared at the plain girl. He was intrigued by her nakedness. He leered at her tiny breasts and shaved sex. He was surprised when he grew hard. He chastised himself, “You dog! You are a horny bastard! Well, it’s been a while”.
Abigail closed her eyes as if she was wishing the crowd away. She had trouble holding her pose. She twitched and fidgeted like she was over-caffeinated. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable and it showed.
Mallory said, “Poor thing. She’s so nervous, she can’t stay still.”
Marie was disappointed with her performance, but not surprised. This is what happens when you don’t use professional models. As she walked among the students, she noticed many in the class had not yet put pencil to page. Marie asked the class, “Not sure where to start?”
Marie went over to her computer. “I see some of you are stymied. A good way to start is to define your page. Put a mark near the top and bottom of the page. Your drawing must fit in between those lines. In this case, they will locate the top of her head and the bottom of her feet.”
She drew the lines as she spoke. “Draw a vertical line connecting the two. This is the centerline of your model. In this drawing, it is a line from the middle of her head to the ankles that support her weight.
“Now, make a line defining the widest element. In this case, it’s the tutu. Draw a line capturing the width. Draw another defining the width and slant of her shoulders.
“It is a simple matter to add the rest of her: head, torso, arms and legs. Then, begin filling in the details. Use shading to provide depth and volume.”
Her instructions got everyone drawing. They all forgot that Abigail was a female showing them her private parts. She was now an art object. They got busy trying to capture the curve of her hips or the frightened look in her eye.
Abigail didn’t forget she was nude. Her little nipples hardened. She continued to fidget and to be embarrassed. It made drawing her difficult.
“Bien joue. Well done, class. Let’s do another.”
Marie was disappointed by the model’s poor performance. Still, she thanked her, “Merci beaucoup. Thank you very much, Abigail. You can step down. Robert Benson, please undress and come forward.”
A sloppy, fat student stood. He started taking off his clothes. Abigail returned to her chair and dressed quickly. Her face was red and remained so for another fifteen minutes.
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