A light and happy tale and my entry for the 2023 Nude Day event. While it follows earlier Model Garden stories, the only background needed is that Gale, an art professor, hired Tyson, a young bodybuilder and aspiring poet, to pose nude for a summer sketching class. She and her three students, charmed by his manner, entranced by his physique and dismayed by how hard he was having to work to stay in school, have just offered to match his salary from his low-paying job in return for more posing.
Among other things.
+
Tammy
It was a nice bum.
Even now, after all that has passed, I still blush a little to hear myself saying that. But it was indeed a very fine bottom.
And I felt myself entitled to notice.
I thought for a moment of my sketchpad pages covered with penciled studies of Tyson - formal poses in Gale's studio, him strolling casually in her back yard or straining that picture-perfect body to move lawn furniture for her.
Just watching him now set off a warm, quivery feeling deep within me.
He paused at the tavern door and waved briefly before leaving. I blinked several times, came back to earth.
A few seconds passed before all four women, still staring at the now-empty doorway, as if acting off a script, reached simultaneously for our drinks.
"Day-um!"
Quinn breathed softly. We nodded solemnly to ourselves; Tyson had had that effect on us all from the beginning.
We sat, lost in our own thoughts, for what must have been three full minutes before Gale spoke again.
"So, how do we divide him up?"
I found myself a little resentful that she had broken into my reveries, let it pass.
"'Divide him up'?"
"OK, share him."
She took another sip, set her glass on the table and looked around at us.
"We just bought the kid for the next couple of semesters," she said, looking at us levelly. "Until he graduates."
"Gale!" Heather protested. "We didn't
buy
Tyson."
"Call it what you want, Red," Quinn giggled, "but two hours ago, Ty was just a model..."
"Just?" I snickered back.
My mind again pulled up my sketches of those solid thighs, of those firm, muscular buttocks, just slightly hollow on the sides. OK, I have a thing for broad shoulders on a man, but I
really
like bums like Tyson's - tight, strong, full of the promise of ample crunch power on demand. That's important, I think. The boy was a tower of masculine beauty, a six-foot-four-inch bodybuilder simply crackling with male energy - Yang personified. Three days ago, he'd earned a delighted round of applause by bench-pressing Quinn and me at the same time.
Quinn was the epitome of brash and forward; she didn't blush very often. Thinking about that afternoon, she was blushing now. All four of us were.
I closed my eyes again, remembering my growing fascination as, clad only in a smile, he'd modeled for us in Gale's studio and yard week after week after sun-filled week. And then one afternoon, one thing leading to another, had sent all four of us into shuddering, breathless orgasms with mouth, hands and cock. Simultaneously.
I shivered happily.
"Tammy..."
"Tammy!"
"Tammy!"
Gale's voice called me back from my daydream. All three of them were staring at me, but their smiles echoed my happiness; it was clear that we'd all been thinking along much the same lines.
Quinn shook her head and grinned at me.
"Let's not quibble. The kid was posing as a nude model to make tuition, trying to supplement the starvation wages from his summer job. Three days ago, he got mugged with an estrogen-bomb - us."
Her brown eyes darted around, challenged any of us to shake our heads. Seeing no dissent, she continued.
"Then the Professor here," she said, nodding at Gale, "pulled off her clothes and damned near boundary-marked him like a wolf pack alpha female."
Gale flushed, but the smile on her face was a happy one.
"First off," she retorted, "I think everyone here agreed to it."
We nodded in agreement.
Oh yes!
As one, nods turned to happy grins.
"Aaand, come to think of it," Gale finished, a broad smile on her face, "you'd skinned down before anyone else did, Quinn."
Which was not entirely true, if it matters, but Quinn had certainly been the first to go topless in front of the boy. It was on the line, but close enough, I thought.
Heather leaned back, swirled the last of her Manhattan in her glass.
"Anyway, Quinn, it was
your
idea for us to hire him full-time."
She examined her drink for a second, finished it in one swallow, pulled the cherry off the swizzle stick with her bright, even teeth and began to chew it.
"I could do with another one or three of those," she announced out of one corner of her mouth, "but not here."
She turned to Gale and raised her eyebrows, clearly looking for an invitation.
"Fine," Gale said. "Do I hear a motion to recess to my place?"
"Moved and seconded," I said.
For once, four women settling a restaurant bill didn't take long and the 'Gang of Four', as Gale had dubbed us, were soon in a circle of lawn chairs in Gale's shady back yard, surrounded by towering hedges. She'd produced a decent bottle of white wine and was pouring for us.
I remembered the last time we four had been here. Our muscular model had been strolling about the yard, pouring us drinks and serving us snacks while we eagerly tried to capture that magnificent, sunlit nude body with chalk, charcoal or pencil...
"Tammy!"
I opened my eyes and this time shared their laughter. It was a fair cop.
Gale set the bottle to one side, sat back in her chair.
"I think you have the floor, Quinn."
The petite blonde took a sip of wine.
"OK, however we got here, ladies, the fact remains that Tyson has agreed to quit his McJob in return for our matching his wages. He'll go back to class this fall, continue to work out to keep that drool-worthy body maintained, but spend the rest of the time with us, um..."
"Modelling!" I said brightly.
All four of us exploded.
"Modelling!" Heather shrieked. Gale laughed so hard that she choked on her drink. It took a while for us to settle down.
"Modelling," Quinn said. Her voice was flat, for once not cracking a joke. "That's the story and we're going to stick to it. Gale might face a review board at the school if word got out that she and three of her friends had seduced a student model..."
The chuckling chopped off at that, for she wasn't entirely wrong. There are rules and there are
rules.
"...after telling him to get a all-over wax job," she added softly.
We looked at each other.
"Gale didn't hire Ty at the school!" I protested. "I mean, her hiring him had nothing to do with the university. She was running a sketching class for us off-campus, during summer break."
"Just stick with the story," Quinn said. "It'll be simpler. He's a model. We sketch him."
I thought of some of the drawings of Ty in our sketchbooks.
"I'd hate to have to show the Dean our work to prove that," I said.
All of us had some very, um...
unambiguous
sketches of Tyson's anatomy.
"No."
"No, of course not."
"No, indeed."
"So," Gale said. "That's settled; he's modelling for us. He can pose for all four of us and that's fine. What about the rest of the time?"
My mind filled with obvious options for allotting more, um,
intimate
moments - cutting cards, timetables, taking turns.... From the looks on the others' faces, I could see their minds on the same paths. But no.
"I think the important thing is that we share nicely," Heather suggested. Nods all around -- she'd hit the nail on the head.
"I don't think rules or schedules are going to work," she continued. "I mean, has anybody bothered to think what that would look like to Tyson?"
We glanced at each other. No, obviously, we hadn't.
"I think we should just play it by ear," Heather said. "Keep it open, respect his wishes and be generous with each other."
Gale chuckled. "Ty's 21 years old. I doubt he is going to object to a steady diet of..."
We grinned together at the very thought.
Not likely!
"But I guess we should set some basic sort of rules. Like not trying to steal him from one another."
"No." Three times.
"No secret rendezvous," I agreed. "Not without telling."
"All right, but where?" Gale continued. "I don't mind continuing to, erm, host our modelling circle, but I only have one bed here and I need to use it for, well, pardon me, sleeping."
The three of them turned to me. I knew what they were thinking. I lived right next door to Gale. on the other side of her hedge, and the house had a basement apartment.
An empty apartment.
An empty, furnished apartment.
"No way!" I stated. "Not with Ariel and Danny in the house!"
"It does have a separate entrance," Gale observed.
I stared at her.
"What?" she said. "Tell them the truth - that he's a student and my friend and that I asked you to rent it to him. The kids never even have to see him."
"Like that'd work." I shook my head. "They're children, but they're not stupid."
