I had modeled a little before. Nothing that made me famous. Just a few local advertisements and fashion spreads.
But I loved it. I've always been a bit of a show girl and still can't resist playing to a camera. There's something thrilling about looking into that lens and knowing thousands of people will be looking at you. Men will be studying the picture and imagining what you look like under those clothes.
I was surprised, though, when I walked into my modeling job one cold winter day. Instead of a bunch of people running around trying to get a set ready, I found several people sitting at easels. They were all arranged in a circle facing a platform and concentrating very hard on the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
The most beautiful NAKED man I had ever seen.
He leaned back on long, lean arms with perfectly chiseled muscles that matched his abs. His skin glowed and his gorgeous face looked both bored and totally serene as he stared off into the distance. His legs were folded but I caught a glimpse of his cock. Even half-hidden in shadow, I could see it was the perfect size and shape.
I'm not normally one for pretty boys, but I could feel my breath quicken and my cheeks flush. I was startled by a rough voice beside me. "Are you the other model?"
I turned to see a man peering up at me, paintbrush in hand. I wanted to tell him no. That I had just walked in on accident. Impatient, he asked again. "Are you my other model?"
"I think so," I whispered.
"Perfect!" he exclaimed. The artist threw up his hands and began walking away from me. "They sent another inexperienced chicken! Go on. Go home. I can't work with you if you're going to be shy!"
I do not back down from a challenge. "No. I'm your other model."
The artist turned and raised an eyebrow. "I'm Jack. That's Cindy. She'll show you around."
I had been so busy checking out the god in the center of the room, I hadn't noticed the robed woman sitting in the corner. She was tall and blonde with large breasts. They were so large, her robe was having difficulty staying closed.
"Hi. I'm Cindy," she shook my hand. Her hands were cold and bony, her nails long and bright red. She pointed to the center of the room. "That's Baz. Not bad, eh?"
She winked and I blushed. I took another look before following her as she skirted the outside of the circle of painters. They paid no attention to us as we slipped through a door and back into the bathroom.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick terrycloth robe. "You can borrow this. I always bring an extra. We always get stuck with a newbie."
"Sorry. I mean . . . thank you."
"Well, I'll leave you to it," Cindy started back out the bathroom door. "Just come out whenever you're done."
I heard the door shut and I smelled the clean detergent scent on the robe before looking at my face in the mirror. I was pale with anxiety. What was I thinking? What if I knew one of the artists? What would happen if Daddy found out? I was barely eighteen and still living at home. I imagined his face would turn the same color as Cindy's red nails.
I sighed and took off my coat. I hadn't been Daddy's innocent little girl for a long time and he was bound to find out somehow. I pulled my long-sleeved t-shirt over my head and noticed how flush my chest was. I wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or from the effect of Baz's nakedness. I hoped I could compose myself before I posed.
As I peeled my jeans off, my smooth legs turned to goose bumps as the chill in the air reached them. It was freezing outside and the heat didn't seem to be working well in this old building. I unlatched the front hook on my simple red bra and the cool air immediately turned my nipples to rocks. I placed my hands over my breasts, trying to warm them.
I jumped when I heard a loud knock on the door. Then I heard Jack's gravelly voice. "Hurry up in there! We're ready for the next pose!"
I threw on the robe and quickly stepped out of my red panties and tossed my clothes in my bag. I took a quick look at my naked body in the mirror and shrugged. Good thing I got a wax yesterday!
