A Stud At Art College Ch 03

Cole looked around at the mall, feeling distinctly out of place among the high-end storefronts and well-dressed customers who flittered between them like butterflies wielding credit cards. A domed glass ceiling, three stories above, let in sunlight and no less than three water fountains filled the space with merry tinkling.

The young art student didn't shop in places like this. He frequented big box stores and factory outlets when not hunting for bargains online. His humble origins couldn't afford the price tags these designer stores demanded.

Not until recently, at least.

He flinched when something cold pressed against his cheek.

"Stop acting so glum, big guy." Krystal lowered the fruit smoothie with a grin. "It's a shopping trip, not a funeral march. We're here to relax and have fun."

"Yeah, boo. Turn that frown upside down." Lita backed her friend, sporting an equally cheeky smirk. "If you behave, I'll buy something sexy for bedtime tonight."

Cole marveled at his two girlfriends. Faithful partners in mischief despite appearing utterly different. One was a luscious brunette garbed in the long skirts and blouses of the classic bohemian artist. The other was a spiky-haired blonde who embodied punk rocker vibes in ripped jeans and a faded band t-shirt.

They were a study in contrasts and the closest of companions.

"I don't understand what's wrong with my regular wardrobe." He argued, plucking at his black turtleneck. "Why waste the money when these are perfectly functional?"

"Ugh, you're such a guy sometimes, Cole." Lita rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You've got a rocking bod under that Steve Jobs Halloween costume. Why hide it? When you've smoking hotties like us on each arm, you need to look the part."

"What part? A shameless philanderer?!" He spluttered, a tad louder than intended.

A gaggle of up-town housewives shot him appraising glances over their Gucci sunglasses, giggling as they passed. Cole's cheeks burned when a peroxide blonde his mother's age winked at him.

His ever-supportive lovers collapsed in peals of laughter.

"Oh, that was precious. But seriously, big guy." Krystal blotted a tear. "You're not a poor, struggling artist anymore. The scholarship stipend will cover a few nicer outfits for formal events. Exhibition openings, gallery galas, the list goes on. Lita also makes a good point regarding your... physique. Like any work of art, it should be properly framed."

Cole was definitely

not

sulking as he considered her reasoning.

Was he trapped in a poverty mindset?

The monthly allowance Von Glute's Academy afforded him was a frankly staggering amount of money. He'd nearly choked on his morning cigarette when the first deposit arrived in his banking app. His family wasn't exactly poor, but his parents had always kept the purse strings tight, saving when and where they could.

"There's nothing wrong with being frugal, boo." Lita read him like an open book. That was her superpower. "But celebrate the windfalls when they come. Squirreling nuts for winter is great, but it can't be your whole life."

Squirreling nuts... there was a dirty joke there, which Cole didn't have the heart to crack after the feisty blonde pecked him on the lips.

"Aw, that's sweet." Krystal stole a kiss too, smooshing her generous tits into his bicep. "Let's grab a bite to eat, then window shop. I've heard good things about a new boutique that opened last month. We should check it out."

"Who wants sushi?" Lita asked, linking elbows with them. "There's a Japanese joint that totally slays in the food court."

________________

"Gotta admit, that wasn't half bad for raw fish." Cole sat back, patting his stomach.

Lita's chopsticks froze in mid-bite, and Krystal looked stricken.

"Please tell me this isn't the first time you've tried sushi." She asked in disbelief.

Cole let them stew for a moment before laughing to break the tension. Lita chucked a balled napkin at him.

"Jerk!"

"Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist. You're both convinced I grew up with nothing." He waved in surrender. "I was raised on the Lower East Side, not in a slum. Of course I've eaten sushi."

The food court buzzed with activity. Despite the modernist architecture and ritzy decore, there was a Mickey D's, which somehow comforted Cole. If you could still order a Big Mac, the rest of the place wouldn't be too expensive, right?

"He's making that face again," Krystal told Lita. "Let's talk about tonight. That should distract Mr Broody Pants."

It certainly sounded interesting. Cole perked up in more ways than one.

"Tonight? What's happening tonight?" He asked.

"We thought if today went well and everyone had a good time," Lita said leadingly. "Maybe Krys and I could do something special for you after dinner."

"Or during dinner." Krystal purred.

"Miss Laurier, I am shocked! For a teacher to proposition her student. Scandalous!" Cole clutched at his chest.

The week since the photoshoot had been busy. College classes and workshops filled his days with endless creativity while nights spent with one or both of his girlfriends kept the hung freshman up late.

They were insatiable size queens who couldn't get enough of Cole's giant dick--often cornering him for a lunchtime quickie or sneaking into his morning shower.

Not that he'd complained. Krystal was full-figured bombshell MILF under those lengthy skirts and shawls, and Lita was a tattooed goddess with a butt so big and perfect it often applauded itself.

Cole wouldn't lie, he was an ass man, and his ladies possessed juicier peaches than all the orchids in Georgia.

However, there were logistics to consider.

"I'm considering buying a bigger bed." He said, scratching his chin. "It's awful crowded when you two stay the night, but I don't know campus policy regarding the furniture."

"I like the snuggling. It's wonderfully intimate." Krystal pouted, then sighed. "However, I understand your point. Each residence is outfitted with a queen-sized bed to maximize the utility of the limited space. We pack quite a lot into those modular units. You can make aesthetic changes as you deem fit, but the base layout is fixed."

"Meaning, even if you upgraded to a double or a king, where would you put it?" Lita translated around a mouthful of rice.

"You'd honestly be better off seeking larger accommodations. The school has other options, though they are scarce." Krystal continued, falling into college administrator mode. "Teachers get private cottages that can house small families. I live alone in mine. The spare bedrooms serve as office and storage space. I rarely use the second bathroom."

Cole stared. Was his MILF professor dropping unsubtle hints that he could move in with her? Surely, it was too soon. Especially given the primary reason for the change in lodgings would be to facilitate more comfortable sleeping arrangements for their throuple.

Krystal met his gaze. Challenge gleamed behind those glasses. She was a woman on a mission who knew what she wanted. He coughed, breaking eye contact.

"I'll think about it. Perhaps investigate some off-campus housing." Cole shifted the subject. "Didn't you mention visiting a new boutique? Shall we check it out?"

Lita visibly brightened while Krystal simply smirked.

"We shall. Brace yourself, big guy. We're about to give you the make-over of the year."

________________

Le Elite Mode

wasn't what Cole had imagined, given the curly calligraphy on the signage.

Externally, the boutique radiated haute couture. Velvet curtains bordered the front picture window, burgundy carpets covered the floor and polished brass fittings sparkled under warm lighting. Quiet violin music wafted from the doorway.

It could have been transplanted from the streets of Paris.

The interior was identically swanky, but the muted color palette and artful arrangement of clothing racks amid the shelves and tables made the store feel cozy and familiar rather than intimidating.

The choices on offer were eclectic, ranging from black-tie formal wear to casual street fashion for men and women. The small group they encountered upon entering was similarly diverse.

Four of Cole's freshman classmates were chatting around the service counter. They fell silent when he stepped in with Krystal and Lita. Fortunately, not arm-in-arm, yet eyebrows were raised.

Rachael and Ebony, he recognized straight away. The vivacious blonde short-stack wore hip-hugging jeggings, a pink crop top that bared a belly button piercing, and a shit-eating grin.

Her doll-like partner was reserved, as usual. Gracefully attired in another black frilly gown that could have time-traveled from the Victorian era were it not for the work boots sticking out beneath the long ruffled skirts and the swooping neckline that publicized her ample porcelain cleavage.

She arched a plucked brow at him.

Cole took a moment to place the other two breath-taking beauties.

The pretty redhead with curves to rival Krystal was Bella; the dance major. Not clad in a form-fitting leotard for once, a fetching off-the-shoulder A-line dress emphasized her rich endowments while staying classy. Her gaze darted from Cole to the women beside him and back.

He nearly didn't recognize her study partner, Farrah, who stood behind the till in a beige skirt suit that masterfully highlighted her dusky skin, midnight hair and aristocratic features, which were presently neutral.

Rachael swung to the rescue, breaking the ice in a barrage of cheery greetings.

"Hi, Cole. Hi, Miss Laurier. Hi, there other girl--sorry we haven't been introduced. I'm Rachael." She vibrated with glee, jiggling most distractingly. "OMG, isn't this place the best? It's blowing up the scene like you wouldn't believe!"

"Hi, I'm Lita. It's actually my first time shopping here--" Lita began before Rachael singlehandedly dogpiled her like a pack of golden retrievers.

"You're first time? No freaking way! This boutique has something for everyone. Unlike other snobby retailers who thumb their noses at us fun-loving girls. Come on, I'll show you." Rachael latched onto Lita's arm and dragged her deeper into the maze of clothing. Firing questions non-stop. "Love your ink, by the way. Haven't I seen you around campus? How do you know mule boy?"

Lita mouthed a silent "help me" to Cole before they disappeared, leaving him and Krystal to face the proverbial music. Three pairs of eyes drilled into them.

"Greetings Miss Laurier. Hello Cole. Welcome to

Le Elite Mode."

Farrah said formally. "Should you require assistance finding anything or have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask."

A silver name pin on her jacket read "Store Manager."

"Wait, you work here?" Cole blurted. "In the shop?"

He'd always assumed she came from wealth. Her clothing was designer and she flashed plenty of bling.

"Farrah's family owns the franchise." Bella laughed at his outburst. "Her mother is the CEO and opened this branch so her daughter could gain ground-level management experience. I work here too. Helping out part-time as a good friend should. The store gets busy, but it's a sweet gig."

Cole had trouble reconciling the image of the detached Bedouin princess working a cash register.

Blessedly, Krystal stepped up like a champ.

"We're here to update Cole's wardrobe and heard this was the place to do it." She explained. "Formal slacks, a few new button-downs, a dinner jacket or two... you get the idea."

"And this is part of your role as his... mentor?" Ebony asked suspiciously. Her expression unreadable.

"Precisely. While Cole's talent as an artist is unquestionable, I cannot allow his limited taste in fashion to cripple future opportunities. First impressions are important, sadly. And a man is judged by the quality of his attire."

Ouch. Cole suppressed a wince.

"I can take him to the menswear and help pick a selection if you like." Farrah volunteered. "We offer onsite fitting and same-day tailoring at no extra charge on formal wear."

"Delightful! I had hoped to browse for myself. You'll be doing me a kindness." Krystal chimed, turning on the remaining coeds. "Hey, why don't the rest of us shop together? We can swap ideas and maybe arrange a fun runway show at the end."

Ebony and Bella shared uncertain glances as Farrah led Cole away.

________________

"Miss Laurier is a very different woman off college grounds. Less stuffy. Not as uptight. You two seem to be getting along fine."

"We've been working closely the last couple of weeks." Cole hedged, standing like a mannequin before the mirror. Farrah's reflection rifled through some hangers while Greta; the middle-aged store tailor, took measurements. "She's inspired me to new heights of creation."

They'd outfitted him in charcoal pleated trousers and a white Oxford shirt complimented his broad shoulders. Greta's gaze remained glued to them as she wrapped the tape measure around his chest. She had the aura of a jolly aunty with the rotund figure to match.

"Arms up, please. Higher." The matronly seamstress instructed. "My, you are a handsome one, dear. You remind me of a young Gene Kelly--no, Frank Sinatra."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"So polite too! I had such a crush ol' Blue Eyes when I was a girl."

"Do you sing or dance, Cole? Play any instruments?" Farrah inquired, shaking out a creme wool knit sweater. "Try this on."

He had to concede she had a keen sense of what made his track-and-field-honed frame pop. The dusky-skinned princess hadn't been shy, asking him to undress in her presence. Farrah armored herself in cool professionalism, turning away when he stepped out of his pants.

"I can carry a tune and boogie a bit." Cole quipped, unbuttoning the Oxford. "Dad gave me music lessons, not that I've made much use of the instrument he taught me."

"A guitar, no doubt. American men think mastering six strings an accomplishment." Farrah watched dispassionately as he stripped off the shirt. Greta hummed her appreciation.

"Piano, actually. He was considered a child prodigy, but Gramps decided that it wasn't a worthwhile pursuit. The passion never left him, though. Dad has an old Casio keyboard and still loves tickling the keys. You should hear him bang out the jazz classics."

Farrah's reflection twitched, a spark of interest kindled. Cole doubled down with a question of his own, pulling on the sweater.

"What do you play? I saw your instrument case on orientation day but couldn't fathom what it contained."

"The trousers are loose. I'll have to take them in." Greta remarked, marking notes in a pocketbook. "Don't mind me."

"A

Qanun.

It's a type of zither that has twenty-six courses of strings with three strings per course. Twice as many as a harp." Farrah stated proudly--her cold exterior cracking. "Mine is a family heirloom with traditional fish skin on the bridge. A priceless treasure passed down for generations."

Cole was impressed. The imperious beauty must indeed have dexterous fingers to play something that complex--a serious piece of history in the hands of a gifted musician. He was about to compliment her when Bella burst into the fitting room in a panic.

"Farrah! Thank god. You're needed on the sales floor. Miss Laurier is--oh!" She slowed her roll upon spotting Cole. "Well, don't you clean up nice. Lookin' good, hot stuff."

The bodacious redhead had switched out her modest dress for more... scintillating attire. An embroidered black body stocking made love to her sumptuous contours with cutouts showcasing her flat midriff and mountainous bosom. Spiked platform heels adorned her dainty feet, boosting her thick thighs and bubble butt to stratospheric heights of sex appeal.

She was stage-ready to appear in a Cardi B music video with an inviting soft booty that nearly equaled Lita's magnificence.

It was an inopportune time to sprout a semi but Cole couldn't fight the primal response. Bella smirked cheekily, clocking his reaction.

"You got any moves, Cole?" She strutted forward, swinging her wide hips until she was right in his face. "They say foreplay starts on the dancefloor."

"Might surprise you." He met her sizzling gaze, catching a whiff of her wild cherry perfume.

"Miss Laurier wasn't lying. You're not shy around women at all."

"Yeah, especially not beautiful women." That drew a giggle from the redhead.

Farrah coughed, a polite reminder of her presence. "Bella, You were saying I am needed on the sales floor?"

The moment shattered. Bella shook herself like a dreamer waking from sleep.

"What? Um, yes! Miss Laurier has whipped our classmates into a frenzy!" She spun on her friend. "They're setting up a fashion contest, and she keeps telling everyone that the winner gets a date with Cole. It's a rodeo out there!"

Cole wanted to facepalm upon hearing Krystal's antics. Then, something stroked up the inside of his leg, bumping his unfurling length.

"Oh! Ah, goodness... excuse me." Everyone turned towards the flustered voice. Greta squatted at Cole's feet, measuring his inseam. The hand holding her tape measure butted against the bulge prodding his knee. "You're... uh, wow. That's... that's... gosh! Don't suppose a young lad like you would mind taking tea with an old spinster? Life can get lonely, and a lady has--"

"Greta!" Farrah snapped before visibly taking a calming breath. "He's a customer. Control yourself."

The motherly seamstress blushed beet red, clearly as mortified as Cole. All eyes fixed on the obscene outline in his trousers.

"My apologies! I--I'll get started on the alterations." Greta fanned her cheeks, on the verge of swooning. "Please excuse me."

She bustled off. Cole called a belated "thank you" to her retreating back. He felt bad. She'd been nice but he was spoken for. Not that the young artist had anything against older women. He had a history...

"Sorry about that." Farrah performed a formal half-bow, hands clasped. "She's very good at her job. If she offended--"

"No, no. It's fine." Cole waved away the awkward encounter. "Forget it ever happened. We should probably stop whatever madness Kryst--I mean, Miss Laurier has instigated."

Both girls shot him suspicious glances at the slip but didn't comment as they left the fitting room.

________________

"What on earth is happening here?" Farrah growled.

The attendant's counter outside the women's changing rooms was burdened with a mountain of discarded clothing and accessories. Short skirts, skinny jeans, slinky minidresses, scanty sportswear, and even some racy lingerie teetered in a precarious heap.

"Miss Laurier happened." Bella announced helpfully. "She can be very... persuasive."

Farrah gave her a judgmental glare, wordlessly pointing out the redhead's translucent body sheath.

"Did somebody say my name?" A curtain drew back and Krystal saunted out of a stall. "My word, is that Cole? Farrah dear, you did a fantastic job. He looks like a movie star."

Cole could only gape.

His MILF lover had evidently opted for a glow-up too--trading her typical bohemian attire for a sharp (if somewhat short) business dress cut in the style of a grey double-breasted suit. It was sleeveless with two ranks of buttons down the front. The jacket lapels formed a plunging neckline that framed her mouth-watering cleavage. Shadowy stockings clung to her silky legs, capped in silver pumps that couldn't be office-friendly.

...not with those four-inch stiletto heels.

"Thank you, Miss--" Farrah didn't get much further before Krstal bore down her like a warship under full steam.

"You have such an incredible range of stock, dear. No wonder everyone is talking about this store. I simply had to find something for myself. Simply had to! We girls can't let Cole hog all the fun, can we? In fact, we're putting on a little runway show. Just for funsies. You should join us!"