Art for Art's Sae

He sat there so still. His body absolutely glowed in the lights that surrounded him in the track above his head. The students stood around him, each perched behind an easel, critically eyeing him up, then stroking the brush on their canvas. His shoulders were so broad in back, his arms looked strong. His body curved powerfully down to his hips, which were artfully draped in the rear, blocking her view of what she assumed would be a lean and powerful butt that was the equal to his frame.

Her guide didn't miss a beat, and took the opportunity to explain that the University provided model for class sessions, but you would be responsible to get your own for outside projects. Art students could make extra money modeling themselves for classes in which they were not enrolled, as the senior in this class was doing.

Ali's mind drifted momentarily as her eyes stuck on the nude back of the model, and the wistful look in the eyes of the grad students painting the view she didn't have. She knew she'd be working with models next year, and knew that the time would come when she'd be confronted by a nude male, but having the issue jump up and say hi like this was like a cold splash of water to wake her up. She was going to college next year, she was going to major in art, her greatest passion. But she was also going into the adult world, where there was no Mom to answer her curiosities, no Dad to pick he up when she fell, and once in a while, a nude man. This would truly be an adventure!

Her first week on campus was exciting, though she did manage to avoid contact with the masculine form in all its naked splendor. She made good friends with some freshman classmates and other students from her dorm. Her professors were so talented, and she had already learned much. The announcement that they would all be starting a project from a model in one class had her mind racing back to the naked hunk she'd seen (though not enough of) last April on here "Welcome to Campus" day. Of course, the first model was a far cry from the complexity of a human model. While looking at that still life study her instructor had concocted out of antique tools, all she could think of was how she'd love to be pounded by hat other model instead of painting this frigging hammer.

As often happens to artists of all disciplines, her passions often ran faster than her skills. She knew she had to walk before she ran, but she so wanted to paint live models. On her own, she sketched interesting people that she saw around campus, from pictures and from her memory. Those from her memory stirred those passions the most. His picture appeared again and again, Still, she knew that her course of study would get her where she needed to be to do a live model justice. She needed to better understand perspective, form, line, shading.....

Months passed, in fact she was well into the second semester when her instructor invited her to attend an evening session where she would get her first chance at a love model.

"I know this is what you have been itching for, and we have a very small night class this term. I'd like you to come and give it a try while I can spend some time giving you some advice. You'll like the women in the class, even though they are all older. They're a group that stays pretty much the same from term to term, some professors's wives, hobbyist artists, but pretty skilled. They'd welcome a new talent like you, and would enjoy someone younger in the group."

"I don't know Ms. Cruz," she responded. "I've got my hands full with my classwork..."

Before she continues, her teacher reached over and opened her drawing book. The face of her model stared back at them.

"This is good!" the young professor commended her sketch. "Come tomorrow night. You can draw him in life instead of from memory."

She caught her breath. It was indeed what she had been itching for.

"He's the model?"

Ms. Cruz winked her answer.

"I'll be there."

Ali could think of nothing but finally drawing this hunk of a man she had seen while touring the campus as a high school student. The rest of the day, as well as the next flew by. She arrived at the studio right on time, but was the last one there. Ms. Cruz introduced her to a small group of women, who were already laying out paints and brushes, preparing for the arrival of their model. They were all beautiful women. They fussed and twittered about every topic under the sun, until one of them finally piped up "Hi Art."

He strode into the room with the confidence of someone who may have owned it. Who knew, maybe he did. He went right to the stool beneath the track lights, and sat still. Ali was disappointed that this first encounter was to be with a dressed model, but she might have known. This department was famous for walking before you ran. Her face must've reflected the disappointment.

"Just wait, you'll have him model nude for you soon enough," Ms. Cruz whispered in her ear.

Ali buckled down to draw Art. Ms. Cruz interjected a suggestion here, a compliment there, but at the end of the night, was quite pleased with her young protégé's work. Ali packed her supplies quickly, hoping to meet Art, but her plan was foiled when Ms. Cruz stopped to give her an in-depth critique of her night's work. By the time she was able to leave the studio, Art had made a quiet exit with the petit blonde wife of the tennis coach who had been sitting two seats to Ali's right.

Ali walked home quite dejectedly. She stepped into a crosswalk without looking and was scared out of her skin by the screeching of brakes, and a headlight that stopped bare inches from her shaking knees. Her supplies went flying, and papers scattered all around. She frantically collected her drawings before the next gust of wind sent them flying into the river that bordered one side of campus.

"Oh my God, Are you OK?"

It was the driver, who came rushing right to Ali. She didn't look long at his face, or she'd have been struck by how pale he was. He was aghast that he'd almost hit someone, but she was just annoyred that he was in her way. She was sure she was about to lose the bulk of her semester's drawings.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Just help me get my drawings!"

He joined her panicked efforts, and with his help they gathered all her works. He knelt beside her in the grass to help her put her drawings back into her portfolio case in an orderly way, but before they had gotten very far, it began to rain. Ali had visions of her works washing away on the paper in the raindrops.

"Quick, the in the car, you can finish there where it is dry."

She looked at him warily. She didn't know him, except for the fact that he had almost struck her with a car. A nice car. Oooooh, it was a very nice car indeed.

"Really, I know you have no reason to trust me, you really don't know me at all. But I promise not to move the car until your works are safe. If you want me to drive you home then, I will."

She didn't have time to argue, she bolted for the car to save her art. He got in the driver side, and fished a towel out of a bag in the back. They wiped the rain off their arms and hands and completed their operation to secure her pictures. She looked up at him, and for the first time since she had stepped off the curb saw the most beautiful pair of blue eyes looking back at her.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"Oh no, it's the least I could do...."

He began to jabber about how scared he was when she stepped off the curb, about how tired he had been since he was working at an internship, about dozens of topics until

"...whatever makes you comfortable. You can walk if you wish, but I'd be happy to drive you home so you can stay dry. Or..."

Was he blushing? He was blushing! Where was he going with this!?

"I was just heading up to The Pub to grab a beer and a burger. After scaring you and practically destroying your portfolio, the least I could do is buy you dinner."

That was how she met Andrew Jason Moore, son of Wall Street tycoon, Dudley Moore. The Moore family had the golden touch since early the 1800's, when Andrew's great great grandfather made the first family fortune with a lumber business upstate New York. Although born with a silver spoon, Andrew's parents had made him work hard in school, never letting him rely on family reputation to get him through. He was sharp as a razor, and had a keen eye for business opportunities. Indeed, he was paying his own way through school with the profits he reaped from an investment portfolio he had managed since middle school.

Andrew had been raised to get what he wanted honestly and directly. And he was instantly smitten with Ali. The dinner that fateful evening lasted until closing time at the pub. It was the first of many evenings together. They enjoyed the same movies plays and concerts. Ali's favorite dates, however, were when they explored her field, and visited a gallery or museum.

Andrew was a sponge for knowledge about art, and Ali delighted in showing him the ropes.Andrew's family was also delighted, both with his new hobby and with his new girlfriend. They invited the young couple into the city frequently, and enjoyed taking the young artist and their son to openings where she could not only see the work but meet some very well known artists and rub elbows with critics and gallery owners.

Ali was smitten, both with Andrew and with the lifestyle. She hadn't dated much in high school, and her mother always told her "When you fall, you'll fall hard." She did. Andrew fell just as hard for her. On one particularly beautiful spring night, they attended a wonderful opening. The champagne had gone to both of their heads, and as they walked home through the park, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. They kissed long and hard near the park exit, and a short time later found themselves in a luxury suite of one of the hotels bordering the park.

They grappled with each others clothing, desparate to finally make love after all these months. She hadn't wanted to rush into sex with Andrew, or so she told him. She just wasn't sure he was the man for her. Oh sure he was wealthy, and had the potential to make fortunes after he graduated. He was very handsome, but at 5'9'' with a slight dancer's body, he came off more in a refined, prince charming way than the muscle bound bad boy types that seemed to catch Ali's eyes. But now, Andrew's soft hands felt so gentle and irresistible. His lithe body was very fit and had her lusting to join with it.

His hands calmly removed her blouse and bra elegantly setting free her large, round, olive skinned breasts. Her dark hair spilled over the dark skin that always looked tanned, and his mouth kissed her big round pouty lips. Her dark eyes grew wide with the anticipation of what was about to happen, and she was glad her first love making experience would happen with someone as gentle as Andrew.

It was memorable. He gently laid her on the bed, never breaking his kiss. He kissed down her neck sending chills down her spine. His hot breath tingled her skin, and his hands, oh so soft, massaged her breast and ass at the same time. Her pants and panties slid down off her hips as one, and naked beneath him, she surrendered to the man she wanted more than anything in the world.

Andrew rose enough to remove his pants, then lowered himself back onto her. Oh, he felt so warm, so smooth. The skin on skin contact was the most amazing feeling.....

"Ooooooh no it wasn't" she thought as his penis entered her dripping virgin pussy. She had heard the first time might hurt, but she felt no discomfort as his penis probed the length of her pussy, seeming to never stop. At that moment she wondered exactly why she had waited, then realized, Andrew was moving faster on top of her. Is acceleration matched her increasing heart rate. She pulled his head to her tightly and wrapped her legs around his humping ass. She quickly felt a surge of energy build up inside of her, and as she erupted with her first orgasm, at least her first with a man present, she let out a long, loud moan. This moan put Andrew over the edge, and his body stiffened as he spewed his seed deep into her pussy.

It wasn't until after the pair had separated that she thought of the possibility that they had just had unprotected sex, and that she could be well on her way to becoming a parent. But it felt so good lying there in the afterglow, all warm and soft, lying against Andrew with her bare skin pressed against his, that all worries fled her mind. The gentle but deep breathing of his sleep rocked her mind to the deepest most satisfying sleep she had ever known.

Making love became a highlight of Ali's life. She wanted it all the time, but Andrew was a senior and about to graduate. His internship required long work hours, so they didn't see each other much except on the weekends. Ali went on the pill, but still worried about those first few times before starting. Their fears were allayed when that time of the month came and went, and they resumed their sexual activity. Graduation came and went, and Ali spent a celebratory weekend with Andrew's family at the beach house in the Hamptons. Andrew proposed that weekend, in front of his extended family, on one knee at dinner, declaring that he hadn't felt alive until he met her, and knew he couldn't live without her. They were both hopelessly in love.

The summer was full of engagement parties, showers, and arrangement making for a Thanksgiving wedding. Ali was barely aware that Andrew was still seeking a professional opportunity. She didn't spend the time drawing or painting she expected to, though she had plenty of inspiring subjects and ideas. When her fall term came around, she was dismayed that Ms. Cruz found her work to be lacking in depth.

"I miss your edge!" she told Ali. "Your high school portfolio and the work you did last fall and even in the early spring really had an extra something. They moved me emotionally, and quite strongly. That's missing. Get it back!"

Ali worked feverishly, but couldn't find what her mentor was looking for. The wedding day was beautiful, and the wedding party was perfect. The wedding night was hot and sexy, with the young couple driving each other mad all night. Ali looked forward to a long life with Andrew if it always felt this good. She presented him with a miniature painting she had done of the two of them from a picture taken that summer at the beach. He was deeply moved, but told her she'd have t wait until tomorrow for her gift.

She was dying to find out, and pressed him all night. He was good at holding her off, but woke in the middle of the night with an incredibly warm feeling on his erect penis. As he woke, he realized Ali was slowly bobbing her head up and down on his stiff cock, her tongue caressing his arousal in ways he had never experienced. As he became fully conscious he moaned her name. She stopped instantly. His cock lurched in the cold air that replaced her hot lips, and he begged her to continue.

"I will, when you tell me what my present is."

He squirmed and begged, begged and squirmed, but she was unrelenting. Finally, unable to stand the torture of deprivation, he gave, in.

"I am starting a business here in town. I'll be able to stay with you through college, and set you up in a beautiful home on the bluffs overlooking the river."

She smiled, let out a quiet "awww," and dropped her head back to warm and revive his gradually softening cock. It didn't occur to her to ask what his business dealt in. She actually liked oral sex much more than she had anticipated, and was eager to finish the job.

The next day, Andrew took her to se exactly what kind of business he had planned. They drove through town to the trendy new little enterprise district by the waterfront. It had become a favorite of the arts community, with it large loft apartments in renovated industrial buildings and hip little coffee shops that often featured live music. They parked and walked along the brick sidewalk until he stopped in front a shop. The shop sported a dark red awning with white letters that read,

Berlin's Walls

An Artists' Showcase.

Ali immediately recognized the play on words. Andrew had used her last name to refer to the walls of a new gallery, on which art would be displayed, premiered and sold. She squealed with delight and clapped her hands like a little girl. The space was stunning as well. Andrew had carefully renovated an old bread bakery for the space. Ali marveled at his use of the space, carving out intimate display areas in place of the many smaller rooms from the old plant. However she was stunned when they walked into the large central chambers that had once held giant dough mixing vats and ovens. Andrew had taken a classic labyrinth design from an old French cathedral and superimposed it on the space. He had loosely organized his gallery walls along the design, leaving space to cross out of the labyrinth flow should a patron wish. There was an incredible amount of space for large pieces along the outside walls, and the huge space was flooded with natural light from the ample skylights. All the walls could be moved so the space could be opened and closed flexibly, allowing multiple artists to show simultaneously.

"It's not a gallery, it's a museum" Ali mumbled in awe.

"I hope so," said Andrew, "a museum where everything is for sale. We open next month. I've arranged a grand opening with a show of all local artists. Many of the established painters from the river valley were so excited about the project they begged to show their work. I'm also devoting an entire section to faculty from your school, and will have the smaller side galleries showing some up and coming local people. We start installing the show tomorrow."

Ali grabbed Andrew and kissed him deeply. He had done this for her. He had aimed his business to be something that paralleled her career, her life. He had made it spectacular, and named it after her. She positively oozed how she loved Andrew, While showering him with kudos and kisses, she hurriedly removed his clothing, and made love to him right there in the midst of the gallery walls...Berlin's walls...her walls.

Ali spent increasing amounts of time at the gallery, and while she had opportunities galore to rub elbows and talk art with some of the finest people in her field, the caliber of her own work continued to decrease. She just didn't spend the time doing art like she had. Her young curiosity that had once given her work that wonder was gone, as her life was settling. She faced with being dropped from program, and professors stopped inviting her to the evening sessions she so loved. Ali was so infatuated with her new husband, and with life at their gallery, she barely noticed the criticism of her work. She barely cared that she was no longer being asked to fill empty seats in the evening sessions with live models. She barely cared. Well, she barely cared until Andrew and Art connected.

Ali walked into the gallery one day to find Art in the office, going over details of a show. Andrew saw her come through the door, and instantly read the puzzled look on her face.

"Ali!" he greeted her with a kiss. I'd like you to meet Art Donovan. We are going to feature his work with a show opening next week on the upper level of the atrium. He does some marvelous abstracts that I think you'll love."

"We've met," Ali responded as she offered Art her hand. "Art models for professor Cruz's evening classes."

"Yes," Art chimed in, "That's where I've seen you before. You did some nice work. You haven't been there recently though."

Ali made some lame excuse about her involvement in the gallery taking up her time. She wasn't sure if Art was reading her face as well as her husband had. Could she see the flush on her face as she remembered the first time she had seen Art, modeling nude? Though her view had been from behind, and Art's body was modestly draped from that angle, the picture had burned itself deeply into that most erotic corner of her consciousness. She recognized the feeling of lust that was heating her body as one she didn't feel with Andrew, and she liked it. She excused herself from the conversation, and left the room. She quietly slipped through the otherwise deserted gallery, out the door and to her car.