My mate Kevin and I were in the front room going over each other's efforts to represent on paper a gorgeous and naked twenty-five year old who'd been the latest life model to sit for us – actually, contort herself into all kinds of positions for us – and were getting particularly enthusiastic about one of my sketches where Jane had sat opposite me, leaning backwards with legs slightly apart and looking me straight in the eye, almost daring me to lick my lips at the sight. I'd taken the dare and stared back into her face, not drawing, just taking in her beauty as if considering it, until a small smile had crept into the corners of her mouth. Then with a self-satisfied smile of my own, I'd settled back to begin the drawing. I think it's called 'rapport' with the model. She really was lovely, and it was my good fortune that she'd chosen this one as the last pose for the afternoon, a thirty-minuter where I could go into great detail, as opposed to the other shorter and rougher sketches. Maybe it was an optical illusion because I hadn't seen her move that whole time, but I certainly had a good view of her pussy lips by the end of the session which I was sure I hadn't been able to see before. Luckily too, as well as depicting her smile, that had been the last facet of her that I'd concentrated on. Kevin leaned over my shoulder and exclaimed,
"Phew! Kenny, you horny dog, you...!"
He took the paper in both hands, brought it up to his nose and sniffed...
"Jeez, I can almost smell her pussy...!"
Then he brought it down to his waist and started humping himself into it, making lewd, groaning noises...
"Ooh, yeah, that's it baby, c'mon, c'mon...!"
Laughing, I grabbed it away from him.
"Stop that, you'll smudge it...if not even worse..."
"Yeah, let me do worse, I wanna leave her a tribute. It'll be a new thing we've invented. We can call it 'Interactive Art', or something. People will go wild for it..."
"I think there's already something by that name – but I do admire your enthusiasm."
We were both standing there in appreciation of her two-dimensional wantonness when the front door abruptly slammed and I knew we had only a couple of seconds before Mum popped her head round into the front room to greet us. We were quickly throwing the sketches back into their folders and turning back round with innocent looks on our faces when she entered. She stopped. There was a bemused look on her face.
"Alright, you two, what have you been up to?" She crossed her arms. "Gawd, the last time I saw expressions like that was when Kenny was caught with his crayons as a kid, trying to improve the look of his granny's living-room wall. Come on, own up."
She cast a glance at the table behind us where part of one of my sketches was still peeking out – a representation of a smoothly contoured female leg with a cutely defined ankle.
She'd let out an 'Aha...!' before we'd managed to close ranks and conceal the goods. She prised us apart and reached for the folders. She opened them up and cast casual glances across our efforts.
"So this is what I'm supporting with my hard-earned cash then, is it?" She tutted and threw them back down on the table. "I'll bet she was good-looking before your artistic efforts got to work on her... Kenny, be a love and make me a cup of coffee would you? I've been on my feet all day. Not like this lucky bitch..."
And she flung herself down onto the couch, flicked off her heels and lifted her feet up onto the coffee table, wiggling her stocking-clad toes. As I went out into the kitchen, she was already asking Kevin, whose eyes were fixed on the amount of leg she was exposing, which folder was his, and was asking if maybe she could have a closer look? He must have agreed, I mean, he'd have agreed to anything my mum had asked him, because when I came back in with her steaming mug, she had already become involved and was pointing to something in his work.
"...you see, you're concentrating too hard on one or two of the elements where you should be looking at the creation as a whole...then when you get to this bit, you see? You've got no space left on the page and you've had to twist it unnaturally to fit it all in...this part is good...this part is excellent, but the whole thing doesn't gel because you didn't consider how they relate to one another..."
Kevin was looking at her appreciatively, and I didn't know if this was because he fancied her, which I knew he did, or whether he really found what she was telling him to be important.
"Doesn't your teacher teach you the basics...you know, the geometry of the composition?"
"Uh, no, not really, he just tells us to, like, go with the flow, express our individuality, enjoy the process...uh, that's crap, isn't it?"
"Kind of. Look, give me a piece of paper..." She reached into Kevin's folder and took out a clean sheet. "Pencil." She held out her hand and Kevin promptly placed a pencil into it. "You've got another one as well, a softer one? Maybe a 4B or something?" She took the second pencil as well. "Alright then, Kenny, love, go sit over there." I did so. "Don't just sit, lounge about like a slob, like you usually do." Then, hooking up her skirt, crossing her legs and using the folder itself as a support, she started to sketch me. While Kevin peered over her shoulder, either at the work or to try to get a better glimpse down her blouse, I got to see from my low angle that Mum was wearing thigh-high stockings, that a pale fleshy band of her upper thigh was making itself evident between stocking-top and skirt, and that she was wearing white panties. Her eyes flicked rapidly between me and the sheet of paper. I gave my own face a vacant look so she couldn't tell I was ogling her legs. It worked.
"Look, forget you're drawing a person, he's just another object."
"Thanks, Mum."
"My pleasure. Alright his head's here, his feet are there, which makes his left arm approximately... here, and his right one... there. Palm here, elbow there, crotch there...right?"
"Right..."
"Wrong. I told you. Look at it geometrically. If his crotch is there, then his left elbow should be approximately just above, not below his waist and out at this kind of angle between head and toe. So let's adjust that a bit. That's why we're using the hard pencil, so we can easily correct mistakes before we get to the finished article where it's too late. I told you, you've got to look at all the bits in relation to one another. You see? I've barely been sketching for a minute and we already know how his extremities are going to sit inside the rectangle. Not too small, not too large. Now more detail..."
I think she was unaware that the rocking of her leg with the folder as she explained to Kevin was edging her skirt up even more. I was sure by now that I could detect the darker shade of her pussy enclosed inside the daintily patterned cotton of her workaday knickers. Apparently oblivious to my gaze because she was looking at all parts of me except my eyes, her hand fairly flew across the sheet, darting backwards and forwards as it roughed in the different elements.
"Now the softer pencil, no details yet, just to place the shading..." I think she was talking to herself, she was so engrossed in what she was doing.
"Wow, Mrs. B., that's amazing...there's practically no detail at all but I can already see Kenny there...you're a whiz...!"
"Thanks, Kevin. So you've got the idea?"
"Yeah, I think so. I think I've just learned more from you in the last few minutes than I've learned all this term in class...How come you know all this stuff?"
"Well..." She hesitated, took a sip from her coffee and, "...well, okay then, let's tell the truth shall we?" She took another sip and placed the cup back on the table. "I was actually an artist's model myself, way back in my giddy youth..."
In unison we spluttered, "What?!?" "You what???"
That was sufficient to draw my eyes from her pussy up to her lovely face
"I thought you said you were studying Mediaeval History or something, you know, before Dad, you know...?"
"Knocked me up?"
I squirmed slightly. "Umm...yeah."
"I think that's probably why he was so intent on knocking me up. He'd eyeballed some of the pictures my famous artist painted of me and it kind of, umm, lit a spark haha..."
"A famous artist?"
"It's a bit complicated. He wasn't a famous artist at the time. He is now, though."
Our looks and open mouths were egging her on.
"Actually you can see a couple of his pictures of me, the ones that gave your dad the hots so much, hanging in the City Art Gallery, and, before you ask, no, I'm not telling you who the artist is or which ones are of me, so you can get that pornographic vision out of your little heads straightaway."
