Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿ONE AND DONE.  Or so I thought. by FunKelly

   ONE AND DONE.  Or so I thought.  Part 10

   I made my way through town to the last traffic light I would see, before
entering the final three mile stretch of back country roads that led to our
little dead-end street.  I pulled up the picture that Francesca and I both
agreed was the best and put my phone in my car's cell phone holder.  There
I was, dumbfounded and naked in the community college hallway, seemingly
staring back at myself, as if to ask, "How did you get 'Us' into such a
mess?" I often wondered how these women I see on the internet, find
themselves in these 'Nude in Public predicaments.  They are usually
completely naked in some public location, surrounded by clothed people.  In
most cases they are clearly humiliated and often times, seem somewhat
traumatized by their present situations.

   I was now realizing how, the smallest turn of events, can quickly spiral
out of control and lead to 'Emotionally Unbearable Circumstances'.  If
fact, I was being reminded by my naked self, staring at me from my cell
phone, that I was in one of those 'Emotionally Unbearable Circumstances',
right now!  I continued on with my drive home, daydreaming about the
'Humiliation', 'Sense of Vulnerability' and the 'Sexual Stimulation' of the
afternoon's events.  I must have driven almost a mile, before I realized
that my fingers had made their way under my dress, down into my panties and
were now massaging my clit, as I made my way home.  The mountain of shame I
had thrusted upon myself, was being pushed to the side by the bewildered
naked girl on my phone, who seem to be saying, "You owe me an orgasm
Jenifer, for all the shame and humiliation you have put me through today!"

   I was soaking wet, when I turned onto our dead-end street.  I had to
swerve to keep from running off the road, but continued rubbing my clit,
feeling obligated to give myself an orgasm.  I was driving at 15 MPH,
scanning the street for anyone, I thought might ascertain what I was
actually doing, yet never diminishing the fervor in which I was rubbing my
clitoris.  I pulled into my driveway utterly satisfied, but also a sticky
mess.  Once my orgasm was realized, the thoughts, ideas and fantasies, that
had allowed it to occur, were long gone, and I was left with nothing but
the utter shame of my behavior.  I started to panic, as I looked into my
rear-view mirror.  Paul was coming down our street, and my fingers and
panties were soaked with my own cum.  I got out of my car, gave him a
casual wave, as he pulled his car up next to mine, then I headed into our
house.

   Paul had followed me in the front door, and asked, "Well.  How did it
go?", as he put down his golf clubs.  I had no idea where to start, so I
just replied, "It was fine.  A little embarrassing being nude in front of
the four student artists, but I guess you get used to it", as I searched
for any reason to go upstairs and discard the panties that had the proof of
my depravity, smeared all across them.  "Were you totally naked?", Paul
asked, with 'Way' too much exuberance, for my liking!  I turned my head
towards him, hoping my sundress was keeping any evidence of my recent
orgasm concealed, while rolling my eyes, and responding, "Yes Paul.  It was
a 'Life Modeling' class, so I was naked".  I then turned back around, as a
sense of relief came over me.  I now realized how sexually excited Paul
was, as he questioned me about my first 'Life Modeling' session.  I thought
by him being preoccupied by his little fantasies, I could navigate through
the rough waters of the truths and half-truths, I would reveal to him.

   "So, Jen!  How were you told to pose?", he asked, with the same
exuberance in his tone, as he had when he asked me if I was 'Totally Naked!
I watched him desperately attempting to appear uninterested, while a slight
bulge was forming in his golf shorts.  I recognized my chance, and asked,
"Paul.  Would you like to see how I posed?", with the slightest of sensual
tones in my voice.  He immediately exclaimed, "Yes!  Yes, I would!" I
quickly grabbed his hand and led him to the living room.  "Take off your
clothes", I said, with total authority.  Paul was only too happy to oblige
and was naked in seconds.  "Now Paul.  Sit in the armchair', I instructed.
He followed my every instruction to the letter, still waiting to see or
hear, what position I had been in, during the modeling session.

   I glanced at Paul, and said, "Don't move a muscle.  I'll be right back",
as I ran up the stairs to the second floor.  I kicked off my sandals,
through my dress, soiled panties and bra, into the laundry hamper, grabbed
a white sheet from our linen closet, and headed back downstairs, knowing I
would have to explain my bald pussy, to my husband sooner or later.  I
walked over to Paul, placed his feet and hands as Keven's were place for
our pose.  I then used the sheet as a toga, placing it on Paul, much as
Kevin's toga had been placed on him.  The only clear difference was Paul's
erection of course.  I stood back a foot or so, placing my hands on my
hips, appearing to be studying my 'Life Model' arrangement, when Paul
asked, "What happened to your pubic hair?  Did you shave your pussy?" That
was the moment, I should have won an Oscar!

   I casually looked down at my clean-shaven mound, and said, "Oh yeah.  I
almost forgot.  Mrs.  Slate, the seventy-year-old art instructor of our
class today, thought it would be best if I removed my pubic hair, to
accommodate the theme of the pose".  Paul's erection almost punctured
through the clean white sheet, when he asked me, while making every attempt
not to appear too anxious, if not also trying to appear a bit nonchalant.
"You didn't shave your pussy, right there in front of them?  Did you?", he
asked, hoping I might reply, "Yes".  To Paul's disappointment, I looked
down at him, and replied, "I have no idea what's come over you lately Paul,
but 'NO' I didn't.  Kevin did not have my phone number, so he had Sue call
me about the last-minute personal grooming detail.  I shaved my vagina in
our bathroom, before I left for the college.  Now let's try to get back to
the theme of the pose, as I repositioned his toga.

   I then went on to tell Paul, about Mrs.  Slate's description of the
wealthy Roman citizen and his young female house servant, who was
attempting to gain his favor in hopes of elevating her own social status.
Knowing Paul had a degree in history, I shouldn't have been surprised, when
he said, "That's how it was you know!  The smartest thing a servant girl
could do in 1st century Rome, was to get pregnant by her master.  She and
the child would be well taken care of, while his wife would have no say in
the matter whatsoever, if she valued her own social status!" I walked up to
Paul, placed my hands on his cheeks and tilted his head, as Kevin's had
been during this afternoon's session.  I then took my position, but with my
legs a bit closer together than they had been this afternoon, and
nonchalantly said, "This is how we posed for the class, Paul.  Just like
this", as I could feel his left knee and right hand, through the sweat of
my palms, while his erection was making a tent out of the white sheet laid
across it.

   I stood up, attempting to portray an attitude of indifference toward the
fact that I had just posed nude for an art class, for the first time.  Paul
on the other hand was ecstatic to have the opportunity to visualize his
"Look but Don't Touch" fantasy, concerning the exhibition of his wife's
tiny naked frame.  He jumped up and placed the sheet on the chair, much as
it had been when draped across his left shoulder and lap, and said, "Jen!
Bend over and put your hands on the arms of the chair!" "WHAT?", I
shrieked. "Oh, come on!", he snarled back.  "I just want the same
perspective, the artists had!  Purely for scientific purposes, I assure
you", he said, standing there naked, sporting a full erection and unable to
contain his excitement.

   "Well, my dear husband!  Shouldn't you know where the artists were
positioned, if you are truly researching my first nude pose, as a 'Life
Model', for the purpose of science, as you say?", I asked, with a naughty
tone.  His expression said it all.  I pointed out where the four student
artists were seated while they were drawing, and retook my position, this
time spreading my legs as they had been in the class.  Paul stood right
behind me.  If we were back in the classroom, he would have been between
the two artists closest to the center of the half circle.  Both of those
student artists were girls, since the one male art student, was positioned
to my left, allowing him an unobstructed view of my tiny size 'A' breasts,
erect nipples, along with the left side of my naked body.

   Mentally and emotionally engulfed in the salacious memories from my
afternoon of 'Art' and 'Debauchery', I held my pose, not realizing the room
had become eerily quiet.  When I came out of my little fog, I immediately
picked up on the familiar sound of my husband masturbating.  I held fast in
my pose, and asked, in an inquisitive tone, "Honey.  What are you doing?",
while holding my position and thinking to myself, "If Paul can ejaculate,
his mind will be clearer, so I'll be able to talk to him about Felix
Laconia's offer to pose for him".  "Nothing honey!  Just hold still!", he
answered.  Knowing Paul had a direct view of my bald pussy lips, bare butt
cheeks and the gap between my thighs, I knew he would be done soon, so I
continued to hold my pose.

   Sensing Paul had finished gratifying himself after hearing his sigh of
relief, I stood up, and turned around, only to discover my husband looking
immensely satisfied, with a crooked smile on his face.  "Feel better?", I
asked.  He just nodded and kept on smiling.  "O.k.  my horny, wealthy Roman
citizen, I want you to focus.  I need to talk to you about a request I
received today, to pose again.  Paul immediately gave me his full
attention, as I told him about meeting with the Sullivans and my short
facetime interview, with the supposedly well-known artist, Felix Laconia. I
was taken back when Paul said, "Felix Laconia!  The Felix Laconia!  The
world-famous Italian painter and sculptor, wants you to pose for him in San
Franscico next month?" I just meekly nodded, "Yes".

   Paul seemed bewildered, as I explained the details of the afternoon,
that led up to my invitation to model for Felix, at his upcoming
exhibition. I wasn't quite sure how he was taking the news, when he blurted
out, "Jen!  You have to do it!  We're talking Felix Laconia here!" Paul
grabbed his laptop and we sat at the kitchen table, looking up any and all
information we could find on the European artist.  We came across a wealth
of articles and websites documenting his forty plus year career.  We also
stumbled across some photos of Felix painting his 'Life Models' at a few of
his public exhibitions.  Seeing the girls naked among dozens and dozens of
dressed spectators at the events, was daunting to say the least.  I could
tell Paul was getting sexually excited again, as I was feeling overwhelmed
with anxiety as I looked at the girls, who appeared so helpless and
vulnerable, in front of the large crowds of fully clothed onlookers.

   I left out a few minor details of my recollection of the afternoon's
events, as I told Paul about my first 'Life Modeling' experience.  The lack
of available robes for Kevin and me, for one.  I didn't know how Paul would
react to the idea of his wife being completely naked for the entire two
plus hours of the class, even while she was on break.  There were also my
naked little walks in the hallway with the Sullivans, some while the three
male maintenance workers were mopping the floors only a few yards away from
us.  And of course, the incident where Francesca caught me wondering around
by the staircase, and took those naked pictures of me, she was now using
for blackmail purposes.

   I was quietly admitting to myself, that my ill-advised lack of
discretion this afternoon was completely inappropriate.  Yet I found the
most salacious of my hidden secrets from the modeling session, was the
state of total arousal that came with the experience.  The feelings of
shame and humiliation, accompanied by the awareness of my complete state of
my vulnerability, along with a vigorous sense of empowerment, combined for
an emotional roller coaster that was unmatched, unless you are naked and
surrounded by fully clothed people.  The sensation was intoxicating!  "That
was all well and good for a small class environment in a local community
college classroom", I thought to myself, "but posing for Felix Laconia in
San Francsico, was something else altogether".  I had an ominous feeling as
I looked at the photos of the nude life models, seeming so utterly
powerless and exposed, as Felix painted their forms in such large and
crowded venues.

   I started to get cold feet, even with the knowledge that I had the
support of my husband, Mrs.  Slate and the Sullivans.  Paul could tell by
my somber expression, and my inability to pull my gaze from the photos of
the life models in the public exhibitions, that my mind was racing, and I
was having serious doubts about posing for Felix.  He got up from the
table, rubbed my bare back, and said, "Regardless of what others think or
say, Jen, you have to decide what's best for you", as he kissed me on my
head and left me alone in the kitchen, to work it out for myself.  I was
startled by an incoming text message.  It was Francesca, asking, "Well? 
Have you posted your 'Naked Ass' on the internet yet?  People want to see
that deliciously bald pussy of yours and those fantastic nipples!  Hurry
and send me the website address!"

   Paul had gotten dressed and came back into the kitchen.  "Jen.  I've got
to go get more charcoal for the grill, so we can heat up last night's
leftovers.  Be back soon", he said, as he headed out the front door.  I
suddenly remembered something Mrs.  Slate had said, when Francesca was
snapping those compromising photos, of my 'Naked Ass' as she had put it
several times.  I texted her back, saying, "Maybe I should notify your boss
about how you broke the rules concerning cell phones usage at the college",
figuring that would get her to back off.  Her reply was swift and brutal!
"The cell phone rule prohibits the use of cell phones in a classroom while
a life modeling class is in session.  The 'Tramp' I took photos of earlier
today, was parading her 'Naked Ass' around the very public hallway and
staircase areas of the college, for no other reason than her own sexual
gratification!"

   "Now since you have questioned my integrity, Jenifer", she continued. 
"You have until 12:00 tomorrow afternoon, instead of the 6:00 p.m. 
deadline we agreed upon, to post every one of those photos.  Meet me at
noon in my classroom tomorrow, with the web address, or I will circulate
those pictures so close to home, that anyone you may run into while you're
in town, may have already seen what a 'Vulgar Slut' you really are!  GOT
IT! ...  Now.  Do as I say, and I will delete the pictures from my phone,
as promised, right in front of you tomorrow when we meet.  Have a nice
evening, SLUT!" I had no response.  Just tears, as I came to the only
possible solution.  I had to find some obscure website and post the
incriminating photos of me.  Almost anyone from town who might discover
them, will realize I am naked in the hallway of the local community
college, portraying me as the town degenerate!

   Knowing the store Paul was going to was about a half hour round trip
from our house, I frantically pulled up my search engine and typed in, "GOT
CAUGHT NAKED".  There were dozens of pages with at least ten sights
available from each page.  I skipped to page thirty and started to scan my
available options.  My eyes immediate stopped scanning and dialed into a
site that caught my attention.  "This Can't be Happening" was the name of
the sight.  It seemed perfect considering the situation I was in.  Under
the name was a description, that said, "Hundreds of photos of people caught
naked in public!" I went to the site and gave it a quick look over.  As
advertised, there were hundreds of photos.  Many of the pictures were from
as far back as ten to twenty years ago.  The photos were mostly of women
naked and covering up in shame, often in a public party atmosphere with
friends.  To my relief the last post was over two years ago.

   I figured this was going to be the best I could hope for, no matter how
many sites I visited.  Still sitting naked at our kitchen table, I pulled
up the "SUBMIT PHOTOS" link on the sight, closed my eyes and hit the "SEND"
button on my phone.  It felt like an eternity for all the pictures to
upload, as I kept my eye on the front door, expecting Paul at any time. 
Once the upload was complete, I deleted the pictures from my phone,
destroying the evidence of my afternoon of depravity.  I ran up to our
bedroom and pulled out my laptop and went directly to the website.  I was
crushed to see the words, "NEW POST!" strewn across the screen in bright
red letters.  As soon as I clicked the 'ENTER' button, I found half the
screen was dedicated to my new post.  If anyone even stumbles across the
website, my naked photos were there to greet them.

   I surveyed the file containing the 31, small icons of my naked body,
taken when I was caught red-handed parading around the hallway and exposing
myself, as Francesca had suggested, which I also knew to be the truth.  I
clicked on photo #1 and took my first glance at the bewilderment in the
eyes of the totally naked girl I was looking at, who once again seemed to
be looking back at me.  I was still naked and sitting on the end of our
bed, looking at the photos on my laptop, when I became immediately
captivated by the images, and found my fingers between my thighs once
again. There I was!  Totally Naked, without so much as a single pubic hair
for cover.  My first pornographic internet post, and I came off looking
like a confused twelve-year-old, prepubescent naked girl, but I knew that
was me on the screen!  That was me!  I was 'Naked on the Internet'!  THE
WORLD WIDE WEB!  I could hardly believe it!  I became soaking wet in
seconds.

   The thought of the unimaginable humiliation of being discovered in such
shameless circumstances, by someone I knew, had also become the source of
my immeasurable sexual stimulation.  I was feeling utterly ashamed yet
willfully defiant, so I sent Francesca a text.  "The pictures are posted!
See you at noon tomorrow".  I went through the photos one by one, and over
and over, often stopping at the picture Francesca and I agreed was the best
one.  The last photo in the set depicted the mental anguish, personal
indignity and public degradation I was experiencing at that moment,
perfectly.  "SHAME" was the unwritten theme behind the entire collection of
pictures.  The sound of Paul's car pulling into the driveway, interrupted
my little 'Posting Party', and I would have to resume examining my first
pornographic website post later.