"Hi, Eric. You're early." Amanda, the matronly yet somehow sexy art department secretary, stood from behind her desk.
"Yep. Light traffic on Elysian Fields."
"Excellent. Dr. Crawley wants to talk with you before class." Amanda nodded down the hall to the office.
"Am I in trouble again?"
"When have you ever been in trouble here? Dr. Crawley wants to introduce you to your modeling partner." Amanda handed me the payment request voucher.
"Hopefully, this one will be alive. Two sessions ago, I posed with a skeleton." I signed the voucher and handed it back across the counter. "Thanks for filling in the form. Much easier than remembering my address and everything."
"Oh, I know. You've got to save all your brainpower for your poses."
"You got me there. I appreciate it, though. I'm still on for Thursday?"
"Yes, and since you're so nice to me, I'll have your voucher ready. Break a leg." She waved her hands toward the door and shooed me away.
I model nude for art classes part-time. This was a three-hour session for Dr. Bethany Crawley's advanced figure drawing class at a New Orleans university. My wife and I are geology graduate students at the same university and live in the French Quarter. It's a huge campus, so I can keep things separate between the two departments.
I knocked on Bethany's door. "Come in." Bethany wore a mid-thigh indigo linen skirt with an alabaster, straight-collar pullover. Short-sleeved, by the way. I don't know how I know those things, but I do. "Hi, Eric. Thanks for coming by."
Another woman stood in front of Bethany's desk. "I want you to meet Allison. I hope you won't mind modeling together this evening, and Thursday, too."
Allison, wearing lavender ankle jeans and a white cotton Jacquard top, extended her hand in welcome. I clasped her hand in return. "Hi, Allison. I'm Eric. Pleased to meet you. Of course, I'd be delighted to model with you."
I looked over at Bethany. "I don't want to make assumptions. Will this be nude?"
"Of course, Eric. That's the only way to teach figure drawing. Clothing is appropriate only in the theater, occasionally." Bethany smiled and continued. "You've been solo all your time in my classes, but I assume you've modeled with a partner before?"
"I have, many times, in Northern California. I'm comfortable with it and have self-control." I tried to appear firm on that subject.
Bethany reached out and touched my arm. "I know you'll behave properly tonight, Eric, don't be concerned in the least. We're here to capture the natural essence of the human form. You two must get changed. Class starts in ten minutes."
I followed Allison out of the office and walked up the hallway to the studio. "Have you modeled for Bethany before?"
"Many, many times over the past fifteen years. I'm full-time throughout New Orleans and live nearby, in Gentilly, but I haven't worked here for a while. I think this was a last-minute decision on Bethany's part. Luckily, I had a cancellation just before she called. So here I am." We arrived at the studio.
Allison looked in her mid-forties, a few years older than me and at least half a foot shorter than my 6'1" height. She had a curvy but not plus-sized body, noticeable hips and bust, and a thinner waist. A mass of curly red hair framed her pleasant face, and I felt a blush of embarrassment in looking forward to discovering if her pubic patch matched.
"Do you mind sharing the changing room? I could use the restroom." I asked inside the studio.
"Don't be silly. The first time I modeled here, there wasn't a changing room, and I had to use the restroom. Once. It was unpleasant, so I started changing in the studio in front of everyone. The storage room was remodeled for changing, and they want us to use it, so I do." Allison laughed at my suggestion. "Amanda told me you're married; she saw it on the paperwork you filed when you started here. Your wife doesn't mind this?" We walked into the changing room.
"Not at all. We met at college in California indirectly due to my modeling. It's the ploy I used to start our relationship, and we have a great relationship. She's always saying she doesn't care where I get hungry as long as I come home for lunch. What about you?"
"I've been married, but it didn't take. Guess I like to eat out too much. I do what I like and don't want anyone else interfering. I have a daughter at grad school in Houston and spend time there if that counts." Allison unbuttoned her blouse.
I took that as my cue to turn away for privacy. As I put my clothes in my gym bag, I realized Allison didn't have one, not even a purse. I saw the cell phone outline in her back pocket but nothing else. I wondered if she kept her robe in the supply room and turned to see she didn't use a robe. She had already opened the door and walked into the studio, nude. All her hair colors matched.
I followed her out, feeling dumb for wearing a robe. She walked to the model stand near the middle of the studio and sat on the front edge, waiting as the students prepared. The confidence she displayed with her nudity was disarming.
I sat next to her. "Do you always work without a robe?"
"Absolutely. I'd be nude twenty-four hours a day if I could. They wouldn't call me if they didn't like it, but they do call me." She answered matter-of-factly. "Don't you find that thing ridiculous?"
"Well, yeah. I'm sure you've noticed different standards for males. Until I've worked a year or two at most venues, they're strict about a couple of things, robes being one of them." I deliberately didn't mention the other strict rule for guys. I was afraid verbalizing the taboo would make it happen, especially around Allison.
"Yep, it's all bullshit. Guys get hard. It happens, so get over it." She squeezed my thigh to emphasize her point. It took all my willpower and the recitation of baseball statistics to keep from springing a full-on boner.
Fortunately, Bethany entered and addressed the class. "Okay, everyone. We're privileged to have two fantastic models this evening, Allison and Eric. We've worked with Eric already this semester, but Allison's busy in New Orleans and Houston and hasn't been available. We're lucky to have her for our special sessions tonight and Thursday." Allison stood and took a bow.
"This week, we'll explore the challenges of drawing a couple. It's a complex enterprise from many perspectives. Allison and Eric have two widely variant physiques, not only in musculature, proportion, and shape but also in size and sex. You are all well-practiced working with an individual model's negative spaces and contrapposto, and those problems change radically when introducing a second model. But they are the least challenging aspects of drawing a couple." Bethany placed a hand on Allison's shoulder.
"The most difficult problem is capturing the narrative relationship between our models; what story do they tell together? Many models present themselves as statues, not living human beings. Learning from a statue is fine, but great art interprets the story behind the form. Many of you spoke highly of Eric's sessions with us, and I can assure you Allison rises to the same standard. Tonight, we need to pay close attention to what their poses tell us about Allison and Eric's relationship. Our task as artists is to capture and communicate that in our work."
I smiled, listening to Bethany extoll our virtues as models. Then she looked at us. "We'll start with five-minute gesture poses, and I'll keep time. Tell the story of your relationship through your poses. I'm certain you'll find what we're looking for. First pose, please."
I tossed my robe under the model stand, and we stepped up to the middle of the stage. We both held our hands in the standard first pose for a couple. We face each other, toes almost touching, hold hands and lean back, finding a balance point where we're in equilibrium. Exciting shapes are open to the artist's view, not too much touching, and a chance to understand the other person while posing. It works best with people of roughly similar height, but we found a good balance by extending our left legs back, bent at the knee.
"A good start. I'll tell you when to change." Bethany announced.
Allison whispered, "How long have you been shaving your package?"
"On and off for fifteen years, but consistently the past three. It felt sexy and different when I started, and I enjoyed the surprise when modeling. Few males shaved back then, so it was sometimes a shock to artists and students. It's a hassle, though, and I didn't always do it."
"What changed three years ago?" Allison insistently arched her eyebrows.
I didn't want to go down this path, but I couldn't think of a good lie. "During one of those squeaky-clean periods, I met the woman who became my wife. She'd never met a guy who shaved, and she loved it. I was soon convinced that the benefits of shaving far outweighed the hassle." Now that the subject was open, I could feel my cock's first hint of tumescence. It was not yet dangerously apparent, but the parking brake came loose, and the car started rolling downhill.
"Do you have any thoughts for our other poses?" Allison asked softly.
"If you don't mind touching, we can do this pose, but to the side, our arms linked?"
"Yeah, that's good. For the third, do you mind if I sit on your back while you're down on all fours?" She asked.
"No, not if you sit on my hips or shoulders, just not in the middle of my back."
I tried to focus on her eyes but couldn't help glancing at her body. It was a sight to behold. Her large breasts had a comfortable, slight sag but were still full and firm. She enjoyed her work if her hard nipples revealed anything besides the air temperature in the studio. She didn't shave any of her hair. Fine red-blonde hair lightly tufted her underarms. Silky, long, flaming red hair framed her pussy and curled out and away from her labia.
"Like what you see, Eric?" She'd caught me staring.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. I'll try to stop."
"Oh, honey, I'm glad you're looking but wish you'd show it. Bethany wants some narrative action along those lines, too."
