"Sam, Tracey. Tracey, Sam."
Tracey shook my outstretched hand a little tentatively, as if she wasn't sure what I might do with it next. She was holding herself stiffly, obviously a little nervous, and in an almost inaudible voice she said hello to me and then turned to look at Amy, seemingly for reassurance.
"I've told Tracey all about you, Sam, so you'd better be on your best behaviour."
"In that case I'll try not to fart while she's here."
"See? That's what I have to put up with. I did try to warn you what he was like, Tracey, but you wouldn't listen."
Amy had a knack for putting people at ease with her light humour, and she brought a little smile to Tracey's face, which helped to relax the tension of her posture.
"Show her some of your drawings, Sam, I'll get some coffee before we start". Amy busied herself with the espresso machine at the back of the studio, leaving me to introduce Tracey to the sort of modelling we wanted her to do for us. As I pulled some of the recent drawings from the plan chest and laid them out on the floor in front of her I saw her eyes widen and her mouth dropped open. She had clearly never seen any artworks like them. I deliberately said nothing, waiting for her unprompted response, but Amy as usual felt obliged to fill the silence.
"Good, aren't they? How do you take it?"
"Mmm... black no sugar, ta. They're... amazing."
"That sounds tactfully non-committal", I said, "but it's OK. You don't have to like them. Not everyone does."
"No", said Tracey quickly, "I do like them. I'm just a bit surprised at how ...explicit they are..." Her words tailed off, and I could sense her unease.
"And...?" I prompted.
"I'm not sure I could... do that, for instance." She pointed to a drawing of Amy lying down with her back arching up, half her hand buried in her pussy.
"We don't expect you to do exactly that," I said. "and you won't need to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Amy jumped in to help. "That's not the sort of thing we asked you here to do. Those are all about me being an exhibitionist, about the connection between me and whoever is looking at the image. They are very demanding, they insist that you are involved in what I am doing. See, in most of these, I am looking straight at you."
"I think that's what makes them so confronting," said Tracey.
"It is," said Amy. "But if you and I are both in the picture, then it's what's going on between us that becomes important, so it won't be like these at all. Mind you, we still want them to be erotic."
"OK. What do you want me to do," said Tracey, taking a deep breath.
"Just sit down here and drink your coffee," I said, indicating the dais. "I'll let you two know when I'm ready."
Amy and I had talked about how we would gradually introduce Tracey to what we wanted from her. It was important that she got involved in the process, but we didn't want to scare her off by rushing her. I took my time selecting some nice paper, pinning it onto my easel board, and sharpening some pencils, while Amy took over.
While Tracey drank her coffee, I casually kept my eye on her. She was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt with low-slung jeans, and although she was not quite as tall and a little heavier in the chest than Amy, she had a dancer's long waist and long legs and was obviously fit and supple. Tracey was watching Amy, looking at her very much like I would, enjoying her relaxed grace and beautiful proportions. It was not hard to conclude that she was as attracted to Amy as I was. She didn't seem to be all that aware of me and what I was doing, which was exactly what I was hoping for.
Amy stood in front of her and untied her hair, letting it fall down over her shoulders. Calmly and deliberately, she tossed her hair out of her eyes, then lifted her T-shirt and peeled it up and over her head. This made sure that she had the undivided attention of the new girl who was motionless, absorbed in watching her friend undress. Amy untied the drawstring in her track pants, pulled them out from her body to loosen them and then dropped them to the floor. Naked, she stepped out of them, and took two short steps forward so that she was standing right in front of Tracey, her silky smooth pussy almost level with Tracey's wide eyes. Tracey looked up at Amy's face as she bent slightly at the waist, put her hands on Tracey's shoulders and kneeled up onto the dais, one knee on each side of Tracey's lap. Shuffling forward, she wrapped her arms round Tracey's head and pulled it towards her to rest it on her breast. Tracey put her coffee down and wrapped her arms around Amy's waist in a hug, and she closed her eyes.
"Ready?" I said quietly.
"Ready," said Amy. "Hold it just like this, Tracey. Ten minutes enough, Sam?"
"Should be plenty," I said, drawing quickly.