As I breathlessly greet you, I see in your response excitement at the adventure you have planned for tonight. What could this adventure be, I wonder with excitement. Maybe we will go to dinner and then make love in the car before going home….or maybe you will tie me to the bed and tantalize me for hours… no? Neither of these? What will it be then? Oh, I see. I will be the model in your art class for the evening.
I enter the classroom ready to pose, excited somewhat at being immortalized in charcoal and pastels. Looking around the classroom, I see only you—ahhhh, I am to be your very personal model. Climbing the three steps to the small wooden stage, I unbutton my jacket and remove it slowly, gently dropping it on the chair at the rear of the stage. My back turned to you, I carefully review my attire. Smoothing the short black satin coverup aside, I quickly check to be sure my thigh-high black stockings are smooth and that the garters holding them up are straight, oh good, they are. I turn towards you slowly, watching your eyes begin traveling up my body, first lingering at the high arch of my foot in my black patent leather heels, traveling over my trim ankles then further over my calves and knees covered with sheer, slightly gleaming black stockings. I see your eyes flare at the contrast of my creamy white thighs against the black of the stockings. At your motion, I unbutton the one button at the neck of the coverup, letting it fall open.
I smile slightly at the audible gasp that lets me know the purple lace bra and low-cut panties were a very good choice for this modeling session. Letting the coverup slide off my shoulders and drop to the floor, I walk slowly to the edge of the stage to await your direction.
For a long moment our eyes lock together, both noting the anticipation and excitement shining from them. Breaking the gaze, your eyes travel down my body, over my smooth shoulders, stopping at the high swells of my pale smooth breasts, my nipples barely covered by the purple lace. After a long moment, your eyes caressingly travel over my stomach and the curves of my hips, lingering at the panties and flaring slightly at the contrasting textures before your eyes—smooth pale skin, delicate lace, creamy thighs, sheer silky stockings.
As I stand there, motionless, you begin your drawing. Watching your hands as you make your smooth strong strokes on the paper, watching your eyes as you glance up at me from time to time, watching them linger before returning to the paper…a yearning starts in my throat and travels quickly through my body. The intensity of your glances and the strength of your hands holding the charcoal makes my breath catch, my knees weak. Without volition, my hand reaches to cover my breast, fingers coming to rest just at the top of the lace, fingertips just covering my nipple. The movement of my hand catches your eye, and you glance up just as my fingertips have enclosed my taut nipple between them…oh, desire flames through your body now. I can see the waves of it tightening your frame, I can see your muscles tense, I can feel the restraint as you hold yourself in your chair.