Art Class 5

I had to take an art course. I guess I could have taken a lit course or some shit, but I was tired of reading and I wanted to try something different, so I signed up for a class that sounded interesting. It was a drawing and composition class full of undergrads, mostly art majors with their quirky clothes, glasses and facial hair. A few were like me, uncertain of their major and trying a few new things. I already knew I had a little talent as an artist but I shortly discovered I hadn't much interest in drawing pears and fish and trees and shit.

I knew we were going to work with some models, but no one prepared me for the woman who came in and undressed.

She was tall. Not fat, but thick. Her hair was dark and thick and wavy, and her eyes were striking ice blue, the kind of eyes you feel on you even when you aren't looking, and that bore right through you when you are. The right side of her torso...sorry, my right, her left...was completely covered in tattoos. Dragon claws and scales and an open, scaly mouth. Her left tit was ringed with a series of concentric circles starting at her pierced, pale, upturned nipple and going all the way back. When she moved or breathed and her tit rippled or bunched, it was hypnotic. The rest of her skin was the color of butter.

She sat on a bench, legs crossed demurely, leaned back on her arms behind her, her tits pushing up and forward, looking at us as we looked at her.

I couldn't do anything at first except stare at her, tracing the outlines of her tattoos with my eyes, the curve of her hips, the spill of her hair. I caught her eye, and she was staring right back at me.

I looked down at my paper, blushing like mad, trying to draw. Every time I looked up, she was staring back at me with those eyes. Every once in a while she'd squeeze her thighs together, and I knew she was getting off on it.

She sat like that for an hour, looking around at the class, staring at me whenever I looked up, smiling that little smile. When it was over, she was in no hurry to put her robe on. She sat there nude as people went up and thanked her, complimented her, asking about her tats, answering their questions like it was nothing, asking to see people's drawings, sitting there smiling with everyone staring at her completely bare body.

What a powerful feeling that must be, I thought.

Eventually she shrugged into her robe and, flashing a final, dazzling smile, went into the adjoining classroom to dress. She looked at me one last time, her eyes boring all the way down to my pussy. I could cum just looking at her eyes, I know it.

I wish I could say I got an A on that drawing, but I got a C+.

I decided I had to know what it was like, so I signed up as a volunteer to model. And get this, they make it a major pain in the ass. Students aren't allowed to volunteer at the college, so I had to go to the community center. Then, it turns out you actually have to provide references and crap like that. You'd think they'd make it easier, since it's not like they pay much.

Since I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of friends, I asked a professor and my track coach for a references. The coach just signed the letter I'd written without really looking at it. And wouldn't you know it, Kale came through for me for the second reference. She grinned like she got a kick out of the idea. "Wish I was in the class," she said. As if she hadn't seen every part of my body at licking distance.

To say I was nervous would be a complete mis-statement of facts. I was terrified. I almost bolted twice on my way to the studio. But when the instructor, a dottering, heavy woman with wild gray hair, handed me a kimono and pointed at the dressing room, I was pretty much stuck.

I kicked off my sneakers, shucked off my jeans, peeled off my tshirt and then tied the kimono around my middle. It was soft silk, and it felt awesome on my skin. I am butch through and through, but there's something to be said for soft, silky girly shit.

I waited until the professor knocked on the door, then I followed her out into the studio. She set me up on a bench on a raised stage, lying on my side, propped up on my elbow, draped down in front of the other. Then, when she was satisfied, she untied the kimono, slid it off me. My pussy was hidden by my thigh, but everything else pretty much was out there. My belly, my little tits, my hip and thighs. I'd never been undressed in front of so many people before, and my heart was pounding like mad.

The professor was saying something to the class I could hardly hear, and then they all took out pads and started to draw. The scratching of pencils filled the air.

I started to calm down and look around.

The class was taking place in the rec room, same place they do ballet and aerobics and yoga and shit, so there were mirrors on the walls. Across the room I could see this naked chick laying on her side on a bench, a row of earrings winking in the light. Her hip looked a lot rounder and sexier than mine, and her legs looked long and toned and graceful. Hard to believe it, but it was plain old jeans-and-t-shirt me. That teacher knew her poses.

Then I started to look around at the students. They were all looking at me up there naked. All of them could see my body. It was an indescribable, delicious feeling. There were eight or nine arranged in a semi-circle around the stage I was on. A handful were geriatrics, retirees looking to fill their "golden years" with some interesting shit in between visits from their grandkids. There was a good looking dude, tall in tight jeans with a gym-rat's build who sat with his legs wide apart. A middle-aged woman with a nice body in a powder bluie velour Juicy sweatsuit, and a girl my age in jeans and a t-shirt; might have been a dyke, hard to tell sometimes.

The woman in the sweatsuit reminded me of Kale, though Kale is much better dressed. Nice rack though, sitting with her legs crossed and rocking them. She was looking at me as I was looking at her. She smiled a little; so did I. We both were staring unabashedly at each other's tits. The difference was, she could really see mine, pale skin and hard niples. I felt her eyes on my naked body like hands.

The guy was staring too, and with his legs apart like that it was easy to see his dick was as hard and thick as a woman's forearm. Probably thinking about sticking that thing in my pussy from behind me, holding me by the hips with his big paws, ramming it in and out. It might even be fun. He was staring at my body, his eyes roaming over my tits and belly, then he stared at my hips trying to get a peek at my slit. He caught me looking at him and smiled, adjusting his crotch.

The younger girl, the maybe-dyke, was staring at me too, drawing. I caught her eye and she blushed hotly, looking down at her drawing pad. I felt it for the first time then, the wetness between my legs. It had been there for a while, but now I could really feel it. I rocked a little, and a twinge traveled through me like an electric shock; pussy, bellybutton, titties, back of my neck. She saw the spread of goosepimples, saw my tits get hard, and she blushed. Damn, she was a sexy little thing. I wanted her fingers pinching my clitty, rolling it while I squirmed. I wanted my hands on her tits, squeezing them hard enough to leave red marks while I came all over her fingers.

I rocked slowly, liking the feel of it, looking at the maybe-dyke, wondering what her skin smelled like. I could cum like this, I thought. I wish I'd had the foresight to put something in my twat before I came here, my ben-wa's or some shit.

The older woman was watching me too, smiling slightly. She saw me moving, knew what was up. She touched her tongue to her upper lip, flicked it once. Oh, I wanted that tongue. I stared at it as she did it again, showing it to me. Then she uncrossed her legs, opened them wide, showing me the damp spot, and then crossed them opposite, rocking faster. Oh she needed that box licked, by me. She needed to get tongue fucked and her clit sucked on and fingered until I was covered with girlie cum.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I couldn't quite cum. I couldn't hit my spot, couldn't move enough without everyone knowing. I was close, oh so close, but not quite there. I was trying as hard as I could, but wasn't quite there. I just needed one good rub, or a nipple pinch, something. I wanted to scream with frustration.

Then there was a hand on the back of my neck and a whisper in my ear. And the unexpected touch of the hand and breath on my ear sent me over. I gasped as my pussy started to pulse with pleasure, but bit back the moan as I turned to look, trying not to shiver.

It was the teacher who'd made me cum. I just stared at her as the orgasm, thankfully a mild one, swelled. My brain was about fifteen seconds behind, but finally I registered through the fog of my pleasure what she'd said. She wanted to know if I needed a break. Biting my lip, holding my breath, I shook my head. She smiled and nodded.

I started to breath again. The pleasure-pulses slowed down and, eventually, stopped. My aching nipples relaxed.

I looked at the students. The guy mouthed the word "hot." Did he know? Maybe. I smiled. The older woman clearly knew. She looked like she was close to getting off herself.

After class, they all thanked me. Some of them showed me their work. One old man had really captured me, I thought. He had obviously spent a lot of time getting my chest just right. He offered his drawing to me, but his wife dragged him out of there as he smiled at me. Dirty old man...I love it.

The younger guy gave me his number, and so did the older woman. And so, surprisingly, did the other girl, the maybe-dyke.

Now I have to decide who to call first.