Life Model
I looked up from my sketch and studied the model. Seated on a dais, she leaned on her left arm, legs tucked up and pointing to her right, her blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail, eyes downcast and apparently studying the dais near her left hand.
I added a few strokes of charcoal and looked up again. It was; it had to be; it couldn't be anyone else. The elusive occupant of the apartment next door to the one I shared with Mom. I searched my memory. Janice! Yes, that was her name. Janice Morgan. Mom said she was divorced, but Mom hadn't said anything about what Janice Morgan did for a living.
I looked up again, studying her. She was slender, blonde, like I said. Blue eyes, too, and the nicest tits I had ever seen - not that I'd seen all that many, not in the flesh - there on show in front of me; for this was a life class and Janice Morgan was modelling for it.
Anne Henderson, the tutor, moved away from her own easel and addressed the class. "Time for Janice to take a break. Ten minutes, and then she'll start again."
There was a general shuffling and stir and when I looked again, Janice had donned a gown, covering that lovely body. She turned and came straight towards me. Panic set in. Did she recognise me? Oh shit, was my erection showing? I was scared, because even just looking at her excited me, but I had been day-dreaming myself into bed with her, too.
"It
is
Thomas, isn't it? Thomas Stromberg, from the next apartment?" Her voice was low, musical, slightly husky.
"Ye-," I began, then cleared my throat and began again. "Yes." Impetuously I stuck out my hand. "Hi."
Janice smiled and took my hand. "Hi, yourself. I thought I recognised you. I didn't know you were an artist."
I laughed. "I'm not. But I am a trier, and I wanted to try working with a model." I flushed. "I never thought it would be someone I knew. I mean, a neighbour."
"I don't really know anyone, except your Mom, and Anne," she said, gesturing at our tutor. "I modelled for her when I was at college. I needed a little extra money. I knew Anne took a class and asked her if she needed anyone, and here I am."
"You're lovely," I said impetuously, "I'll never be able to do you justice."
"May I look?" she said, gesturing to my easel.
I flushed again. "It's not very good."
She came around and stood beside me, studying my sketch, then glanced up at me. "On the contrary, Thomas, it's..."
"Tom."
She glanced at me, then nodded. "Tom. It's very good, Tom, you make me look beautiful."
"You are."
She smiled but said nothing, gesturing at my sketch. "I love the way you've drawn my arm and hip, there."
I was pleased, because I felt good about that, too. Unlike her face, which I had so far only suggested.
"Are you planning to turn your sketch into a painting?"
I shook my head. "I don't think I'll have time. There's only two weeks before I go to college. Tonight's class only has a half-hour when you pose again, then next week's class. I don't think I'll be able to finish the sketches and colour notes. Not in the time I have left."
Janice opened her mouth and was about to say something when Anne came across.
"Can I have a word, Janice. Excuse us, Tom, please."
The two women moved away and I watched Janice. Even in a pair of backless slippers and a shapeless towelling robe there was a lithe grace to her movement. I sighed, glanced around to make sure I was unobserved and eased my half-hard prick into a more comfortable position. I would need to masturbate before I could sleep tonight.
It wasn't long before Janice took up her pose again and I tried to carry on with my sketch. I say 'tried', but I think I spent more time just looking and admiring Janice than I did applying charcoal to my sketches. Too soon, Anne called time and we began to pack up. Janice slipped away to the changing room but came back in jeans and sweatshirt and came straight up to me.
"Tom, hi."
"Hi, yourself."
"How are you getting home? I know you don't have a car so I wondered if you wanted a ride?"
"That would be marvellous. If you're sure you don't mind."
"Of course not. Come on, it's right next to the door."
The drive home was quiet. Mainly because I couldn't think of a thing to say to her that wouldn't show me up as a love-sick teenager. I managed not to think of her naked, so my erection didn't come up
too
far. All too soon Janice was slotting her battered Mustang into the parking area for our block. She didn't get out straight away but turned to me, touching my arm as I made to get out.
"Tom, wait a moment."
"Sure," I said, perfectly willing to spend more time in her company. "What is it?"
"Back in the class, when we were talking? Before Anne took me away?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, I was going to ask if you'd like me to model for you so that you can finish the painting before you leave for college. I'm free tomorrow, the weekend, and Monday, and the same next week."
I groaned. "I'd love that, but I couldn't afford your modelling fee."
Janice laughed. "I have an ulterior motive. Your Mom says you're a whiz with a computer."
"Mom exaggerates. I'm good, yes. I'll be better when I finish my degree course."
"You'll be good enough for what I want. I'll trade you modelling time for you teaching me to find my way around a computer. I want to know enough to be able to write letters, keep an eye on my finances, do a little web-browsing - my friend Patti says it's great fun."
"It is."
"Well, things like that. Ordinary things. I'm not stupid, I just never used one before."
"What sort have you got?"
"I don't yet. I thought you could guide me on what to get, too."
"Sure, no problem. When?"
"Are you free tomorrow?"
"All day, after about ten. Mom's going to visit my Aunt Jen for the weekend, so after she leaves my time is my own. Is that okay?"
"More than okay. Come along to my apartment tomorrow when you're ready and we can discuss it. Bring your art materials. I don't see why we can't combine talking about computers with me doing some modelling for you."