The Art Teacher Pt 04 The Reunion

My name is Amy Parker, and I am a high school teacher in a small Midwest town. This is final part of a story that started in 2011 when I was just finishing my second year as a teacher. I had allowed four of the senior football players in my Art Appreciation class to trick me into posing nude for them the day after graduation. It had actually turned out well for me, resulting in my marriage to the football coach. We had been married for 4 1/2 years.

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By the summer of 2016, I had taught for seven years. My husband, the football coach, for ten. As viewed by others, we appeared to be two young, responsible adults. Now, with two incomes, we were able to put money into both our retirement accounts. We also re-furnished the house we were renting and gave away or donated the old furniture - with the permission of the owners. We had a five-year plan: in addition to new furniture, we bought new cars and were now saving for a downpayment to buy a house. Then we would start a family. We had settled into comfortable and rewarding lives.

I still worked out several times a week to keep myself in shape. If anything, I had a more attractive body than I did 5 years ago. My husband, Coach, appreciated that.

The summer of 2016 was ending; we were four years into our five-year plan when we hit a snag. The house we were renting was about to go up for sale. We had not saved nearly enough for a downpayment. We had until November to figure this out; we might have to get an apartment for a year or two. That would add an additional move and probably delay buying a house. School was about to start again, and we had no plan.

September arrived along with the start of school, the start of football, homecoming, and another set of reunions. Our graduated classes returned every five years to see each other, reminisce about their high school years, and share how they were doing.

The routine was well established. On Friday night, there was a mixer in the gym before the football game. On Saturday some of the older reunion classes would gather at the home of a local graduate for brunch, other classes would just sleep-in. Saturday night the cafeteria hosted the Reunion Party, with a live band and decorations.

The reunion events were not lavish affairs, the Reunion Committee had the unenviable job of finding the right balance. Charge too much, folks don't come; charge too little, the two major events were dreary and disappointing.

As one of the newest teachers, I had been assigned the responsibility of treasurer for the reunions. It was my job to work with the committee chairs, deposit the checks from the attendees, and settle the bills. It was always a scramble to settle the bills with the funds available. I was looking forward to the day I could pass this duty to another.

About a month before homecoming, the Reunion Committee Chair came to me with a big smile on her face. One of the attendees for this year's reunions had made an anonymous donation. A REALLY BIG donation. She would not tell me how much but said we would not have to worry about covering the bills this year. She declared that this year's reunion would top any in the school's history and that no one should miss it.

I wasn't going to miss it anyway. It had been five years since I had posed for four of my former students and all four of them had signed up to attend. I was looking forward to seeing them and re-living the experience.

Perhaps a recap is in order. I was a gymnast in high school, and it helped me develop an athletic and trim body, but it wasn't until I was in my senior year in college that my figure filled out and I realized that my body was my superpower. I enjoyed showing it off. I guess I'm a bit of an exhibitionist.

What man doesn't like to see a cute girl with narrow hips, a slender waist, and a nice bust? Few men can resist me in a simple sundress - it leaves my athletic limbs exposed and showcases my trim figure. Fewer men can resist me when I wear a bikini - especially my red one - where the thin fabric sticks to me like a second skin. And no man can resist me when I'm naked.

Only two handfuls of men had had that pleasure. One handful includes my doctor, my two boyfriends in college, a stranger named George I flashed on my honeymoon, and my husband's best friend, Bill. The second handful includes my husband, and the four boys who would be coming to the reunion. The second handful all saw me on the same night.

It was the night I let the four boys trick me into posing naked for them, and then select my final pose. They had me facing them naked on my knees, legs spread apart with my hands clasped together behind my head. It was the most humiliating experience of my life! But it was also the most exciting and most rewarding and led to my marriage to Coach.

Over the years, two of the boys, John and Roger, had dropped by during their college breaks, but I hadn't seen the other two boys in five years. The last time they saw me, I was naked. I thought about my four boys and wondered what had become of them.

Peter was a little clumsy, incredible shy, but the smartest. His only blemish in high school was the A- he earned in my Art Appreciation class. He had been voted "Most likely to succeed" by his classmates. He was a back-up linebacker who only saw action if the game were already either won or lost. The coach kept him on the team because he helped half the senior players with their studies. He was going to Caltech.

Kevin had been the team's kicker - a little quirky like many kickers. He was easy-going and nothing ruffled him. He was an amazingly talented artist who had painted three portraits of me while I posed. He was headed to St. Mary's College, a small liberal arts school back East.

Roger was the handsome quarterback - one of only seven African Americans we had in the senior class that year. He had been elected the class president. He was smart, too. Most of the girls in the school had a crush on him. He had a football scholarship to State to study engineering and would end up as a starting safety for their football team.

John had been a linebacker and the captain of our high school football team. He was the ringleader of their little group. He was also going to State on a football scholarship and was going to study business. I had heard his name mentioned occasionally, he had been a star player at the college level, Second Team All American.

I thought about how irreverent and fun their group had been. I couldn't wait to see them again.

Friday night arrived and I was headed to the pre-game mixer with butterflies in my stomach. Coach wasn't with me for the mixer; as usual, he was involved with his team's pre-game preparations.

I arrived at the gym and was stunned. Next to the gym a huge white tent had been erected. At one end was a long table covered by a white tablecloth that hosted an open bar. Five bartenders were hard at work making drinks for the attendees. On the opposite end was another covered table filled with trays of hors d'oeuvres. Next to the tent were two catering company trucks with servers, dressed in black and white, re-supplying that table. About 300 alumni and guests were in attendance. The Reunion Committee Chairman was right, this was a reunion like no other.

I walked up to the bar and got a glass of white wine then turned to see who I knew. Standing in a small circle talking together were my four boys! They saw me as I approached, and their conversation stopped. All four stared at me in silence. I knew they were undressing me with their eyes, and I felt a familiar surge of excitement. The gang was together again.

"Hello boys." I announced. "It is great to see you all."

Almost in unison they responded with variations of, "Hello Ms. Parker, it is great to see you, too."

"Please, call me, 'Amy'. You are grown men now. Catch me up on your lives."

John went first. He had graduated from State with a business degree and had passed on the opportunity to play football professionally. He was attending the Darden Business School at UVa to get an MBA. No serious girlfriend.

Roger had earned an engineering degree from State and was now working for Boeing in St Louis as a systems engineer. No serious girlfriend.

Kevin had finished two and a half years of his liberal arts degree and dropped out. He had started painting portraits on the side and had become so busy that he was now doing it full-time. He had a live-in girlfriend, and they were serious. She couldn't come to the reunion - work conflict.

Peter went last and was slow to start sharing. He was obviously internally debating what to tell us. He had graduated from Caltech with a degree in computer science. Living in San Diego. No serious girlfriend. As for work, he was "between jobs".

The four of us listening were at a loss for words. Here was the "Most likely to succeed" saying he didn't have a job? Had his shyness resulted in his inability to perform on a team? We could only suggest that things would get better - a tired cliché.

The boys asked me how I was, and I told them that Coach and I were now married, no children yet but thinking about it, about to move from our rental house, still teaching my Art Appreciation class to football players and others, but hadn't posed for anyone else,... yet. The mention of that night brought a smile to every face.

Our conversation shifted to other topics: world events, Hollywood gossip, sports; it was free flowing and easy. I was impressed with how worldly my boys had become. An hour passed and it was time to go to the game.

Kevin took me aside and said he needed to talk to me privately. He looked more serious than I had ever seen him. "Sure." I responded. We huddled by ourselves in a corner of the tent, and I started by asking him, "So, how's my favorite portrait?"

"That's what I want to talk to you about." He responded. "After our painting session, I put the finishing touches on the portrait - it was my best work. I never displayed it, but occasionally a dealer or customer would ask if I did boudoir portraits, and I would show your portrait as an example of my work. About a year ago I got a call from an unknown dealer telling me that he'd heard of the portrait and had a buyer who wanted it. I told him it wasn't for sale. He said, 'Not even for $40K?'"

"Oh, my gosh!" I exclaimed. "What did you tell him?"

Kevin looked me directly in the eye, blinked twice, and said, "Sold."

"But that's not what I wanted to tell you. A week ago, that same dealer called me again. His buyer wanted to commission two more portraits, both slightly bigger. They had to be with the same model, and she had to be having sex with a black man in one of the portraits and with a white man in the other. These requirements were not negotiable, and he would pay me $50K for each portrait. He has already put down half as a deposit."

Kevin paused for a few moments, waiting for me to digest this. Then he continued, "Amy, if you will pose for me again, I'll pay you $40K."

I looked Kevin directly in the eye, blinked twice and said, "Sold."

Then I added that I had to get Coach to agree, and Kevin should come to the house tomorrow for lunch so the three of us could discuss it. Kevin agreed and we went to the football game. We won, but my mind was elsewhere. All I could think about was how I was going to tell Coach.

Once we were home after the game, I hesitantly told Coach about this opportunity. As with almost every time other I have been hesitant to tell Coach something, I had worried for nothing. Coach was enthusiastically behind it. He knew I'd enjoy it and the fee for posing would solve our housing problem - we would have enough money for a downpayment to buy a house.

On Saturday at noon Kevin arrived at the house. As he entered, he looked around our well-furnished living room and exclaimed, "Wow! The place looks great." We appreciated the compliment. After sandwiches and small talk, we sat in the living room to talk business. I started by asking, "So, how would this work, Kevin?"

Kevin paused for a moment then offered, "I don't paint from live models anymore, Amy. Sittings are too hard on both the artist and the model. These days, I photograph models with a high-resolution camera in a well-lit environment. Then I paint from the photographs."

"I would photograph you with both male models at the same session. The session would consist of you having simulated sex on a big bed. Obviously, there will be rules in place based on your comfort level - where they can touch you - and no penetration, of course. I'll add that into the finished portrait."

That all sounded good. I looked at Coach and he gave me an affirming nod. "Okay," I responded, "When and where would we do this?"

Kevin's response shook me, "How about tomorrow, right here?"

"What! Tomorrow! But what about your equipment?"

"I drove my van here with all my equipment in it, hoping you might agree." answered Kevin.

His surprising suggestion raised an obvious question, "Where will you get the male models? I have a friend who runs a modeling agency, but I doubt that even he can meet these requirements with such short notice." Kevin looked at me and shrugged his shoulders, waiting for me to figure it out. I gasped with the revelation, "John and Roger?" I guessed.

"Yes." said Kevin. "I talked with them this morning and they agreed to participate for free. They said they felt they owed you for our last posing session."

"And what they did after the posing session." I thought to myself.

"How about 1000 tomorrow right here? That gives Roger and John time to catch their flights later in the afternoon. If you don't mind, please wear make-up; the buyer would like you to appear glamorous. And one last requirement," added Kevin, "The buyer wants you shaved."

That agreed, Kevin reached into his briefcase and produced a piece of paper that he set in front of me. "What's this?" I asked. "My model release form." Responded Kevin. "It says you agree to model of you own free will; that I own the images of you that I take; that I will only use them for the purpose of creating a portrait, and that I won't sell or otherwise distribute them without your permission." "Sounds fair." I said as I signed.

As he was leaving, Kevin added, "You don't mind if I share our plans with the dealer, do you? The buyer insists on being kept advised of our progress."

The party Saturday night was another festive event. It was held in the school's cafeteria, but you would not have recognized it. It looked as if it had been professionally decorated. There was a large open bar and servers offering hors d'oeuvres from trays. On the stage was a real band from out of town that could actually play.

Just as we arrived, the Chair of the Reunion Committee handed me a bank bag and announced that the reunion checks were inside for me to deposit. I put them with my purse.

The band was wonderful, and I danced with Coach and each of the boys. It was really fun, but I had a hard time staying in the moment; my mind was on tomorrow. I couldn't stop thinking about being naked with John and Roger - I was really turned on.

During breaks in the music, I had a chance to individually ask both John and Roger if they were okay with this. Both offered me big broad smiles. John gave me a thumbs up and Roger told me he could not wait. I guess they were okay with it.

When we got home, I asked Coach if he were still okay with it. He responded, "Oh, yeah. There is the money, of course, but this will most likely be your only chance to move one of your fantasies a step closer to reality. In the future, when you fantasize about your boys, you'll have a visual memory to assist you. I'm very okay with this!"

At that moment I wanted coach so badly, but he refused, adding, "Don't you think you'll deliver a better performance if you have some unreleased sexual tension, Amy?" I tried to fall asleep but couldn't. Coach had left me sexually frustrated, and I was thinking about tomorrow. Then I remembered the bank deposit.

I hopped out of bed and looked at the bank bag that held the checks for the reunion. The total for the deposit was $132,000 - about four times the norm. I pulled out the checks and started to thumb through them - all 200 of them. The checks were for $120 - the single attendee's price, or $220 - the couple's price. Then I found it, about two-thirds of the way into the stack. It was a check made out to our reunion committee in the amount of $100,000. And the name on the check? Our Peter. How was this possible? Peter was out of work, he said.

Was this check even any good? I hated to think of the embarrassment to Peter and his family if it weren't. How would our committee pay the bills?

Was Peter coming to the shoot tomorrow? I didn't think so. I just knew that I had to talk with him before he left town.

The next morning, I showered and shaved. It had been a long time since I shaved my pussy and it felt good, more exposed. I looked at myself in the mirror naked and reveled in the fact that in two hours I'd be presenting my still-athletic body to my boys for their viewing enjoyment.

I applied my make-up. Nothing over the top, just lipstick and eye liner. But the difference was amazing. I was a pretty girl without make-up - with it I was glamorous. I wore it so seldom that I did not recognize the person looking back at me in the mirror. I just knew she looked hot! When Coach saw me, he agreed.

At breakfast later, Coach had a strange look on his face. I could tell he wanted to share something. He finally spoke, "Amy, I've been thinking." He paused, "I think you should consider changing the rules of conduct for today. How are you going to act turned-on if everyone is worried about breaking a rule? I think you should consider allowing the boys to do anything they want to you, including penetration." I looked at him once more in amazement and said I would consider it.

At 09:30 Kevin arrived. His jaw dropped when he first saw me. "Amy, you look fantastic." Then he began to set up his equipment. We selected the downstairs bedroom since it had the biggest bed and the least furniture. Kevin would film from the far side of the bed.

Next to arrive, a little before 1000, was Peter. He also was surprised to see the made-up me. I was surprised but happy to see him. "I'm glad you came," said Kevin, "I could use your help with my portable photographer's lamp." Peter nodded and said, "Show me what you want me to do."

"Peter," I said quietly, "can we have a little private chat first?" I led him into the rec room where we could have some privacy. I wasn't sure how to start this conversation, so I just said, "I know your secret." Peter looked surprised. Then he surprised me by responding, "Which secret?"

I told him I knew that he was the mysterious benefactor for the reunion. I asked him how that was possible since he was out of work and broke.

"I'm looking for my next opportunity", laughed Peter. "I am definitely not broke."

He saw the confused look on my face and shared his story. "My junior year at Caltech I went to my uncle's home in San Diego for Thanksgiving. He runs a bank, and I heard him complaining about the cost of the private T-1 line that they needed for their business. It turns out lots of businesses need speedy, reliable data transfer - banks, insurance companies, medical centers - and the internet just isn't yet reliable enough, so they all rent individual T-1 lines."

"Then I had an idea. Why not use the Internet for data transfer when it was available, and switch to a regular phone modem when it wasn't? The combination would give you the speed and reliability of a T-1 line for a much lower cost."

"The challenge was to develop a buffer to store the data when using the slower phone modem, and then manage the transition back to the internet so that the two data streams were seamlessly stitched together. I developed the algorithm, coded the software, and built a prototype that interfaced with Cisco's internet router. That summer I beta tested it, and it worked like a charm."