Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿Yuri -(TM)s Tales 01: The Artist by Fox Yuri finds out she -(TM)s been volunteered to model for art class. I was never much of an artist. Sure, I can sculpt a passable knick-knack, or color inside lines someone else arranged, but anything more technical than that and I'm lost. At my college, though, we have a really great art program for aspiring painters, animators, and other 2D professions. Now, I don't usually hang put with the artists, but they're generally fun, interesting people. Which is why it was odd that I was in the painting classroom in the middle of class. And even stranger that I was putting all of my effort into not hyperventilating and keeping my heart rate under control. Being the only naked person in the room will have that effect. Apparently 'figure drawing' is such an important skill that the art students had a whole week dedicated to it. And there I was, the day's model. Surrounded by twenty five or so students sitting behind easels and carefully examining the shape of my body. Ding! There was a soft chime, prompting me to change my pose. I had specific instructions to not take more than fifteen seconds to switch it up. Which was a problem, seeing as the only thing I had to cover myself with was a stupid pillowcase! So I would spend ten seconds just struggling not to show any more than I absolutely have to. Of course, the lights around me left almost nothing to the imagination. I spent the remaining time trying to make my pose interesting enough to keep the students busy enough that they don't have time to ogle me. All while keeping in mind that I have to hold the pose for five minutes. Ding! Time's up. I freeze again, somehow laying across the simple wooden chair I've been using as a prop. My loose hair dangles to the ground, one arm tightly clinging to my chest while the other holds the top of the chair so I don't slip off. The bottom edge of the pillowcase is tight between my crossed legs. I hope it looks more elegant than it feels. "That's perfect, Yuri! A wonderful pose to end the day on!" The teacher is bright and bubbly, doing her best to remind everyone that this is just a normal thing artists have to do. If I was sitting behind one of the easels I might have believed her, but from the little stage she'd set up... not so much. "So, for this last pose, your challenge is to capture fine details. Make a quick sketch of the pose, then add in little details in the way her hair falls or the wrinkles in the fabric. When Yuri moves on, you can use those little details to give your final picture more life!" Oh, a good challenge! The should keep them extra busy, right? Logically I know that the students either don't care or they're just as embarrassed as I am, but that wasn't much defense against my blush reflex. I'm pretty sure passing aircraft thought my face was some sort of signal flare. "Miss Campbell? Is this the kind of detail you mean?" A student asked a question. Another good distraction. "Oh, not exactly." She addressed the student directly while speaking loudly enough for all of the students to hear the additional advice. She might be the devil himself in a cute wraparound skirt, but she was a very good teacher. "You can adjust the exact shape of body parts by looking at any reference image, so you should look for things that it would be difficult to find without recreating them. See how you've drawn the shape of her breasts? I already shared reference material for how gravity affects the softer parts of our bodies, but the way the fabric is fighting against her nipples is much more unique. Focus on that instead." Just kill me now, Lucifer. "Oh Amy, that's wonderful! Capturing the way just a little bit of her pubic hair is showing under the fabric will bring a lot of vividness to your final picture!" My what?!? "Time's almost up, make sure you've captured at least one detail that will help your final product. I don't think anyone's captured that on bead of sweat on her inner thigh, or the interesting double-image tan lines she has from a school bathing suit and a backless dress." "Actually Miss Campbell, I think it's a bikini and a backless swimsuit." "Are you kidding, Kevin? She would have a distinct line from the bikini top!" "Maybe you would, Katey, but for all we know Yuri sunbathes topless!" "You must be very confident in your sketches to bicker right before the timer's up." At the teachers words, both students went quite and an intense scribbling filled the room. Five, four, three- Ding! "Time's up!" Miss Campbell clapped her hands while I shot up and quickly pulled the pillowcase over my exposed nethers. "You were wonderful, Yuri." ""Thank you, Yuri!"" The whole class chimed in at once, which only made me blush more. "Um... Y-you're welcome, e-everyone." Miss Campbell, finally showing some mercy, turned off the stage lights and pulled a screen in front of me so I could change back into my school clothes. No sooner was it in place than I was rushing to yank my underwear back on. I didn't feel safe until my dress was securely buttoned, and even then I was wishing I'd worn something a little less flashy today. "Why do I always have to look so dang adorable?" My muttering unnoticed, I collected my bag and stepped around the screen to sit and tug my shoes on. Normally the extra two inches of height they gave me made me feel more powerful, but right then I just wanted to go unnoticed. Miss Campbell clearly heard my prayer, because she was coming over to talk to me about something. Wonderful. "That really was lovely, dear, I'm not just trying to make you feel less anxious." I'd bet my cute tush she's about to ask me to cover another class. "I'm very glad, too, since I'll be seeing you again tonight." "You'll... uh, what?" I am a master of eloquence. A silver tongued prodigy. "Hmmm? The special honors session is tonight, dear. Did you forget?" "Honors session? I thought It was just the one period?" I barely kept the panic out of my voice, although the thundering of my heart might have given me away regardless. "Oh, no. I guess they didn't walk you through the schedule like they were supposed to, Yuri. There's another session tonight for the honors art class. You aren't double-booked, are you? The other class only has this one chance to do their own life drawing." "I, uh..." Stay strong! Say no! It's such a shame, but I really- "Can't wait to be there!" I'm such a push-over. "That's wonderful, Yuri! I won't be there myself, since I have to cover the grading while my TA is with you, but it'll be a lot more relaxed than this! Just pose however you're asked to, you won't be asked for anything that's beyond your ability." The heart-melting smile of undiluted gratitude she pointed at me was almost enough to make it worth it. Almost. *** I was early for the honor's session, waiting in the hall wearing a pretty pink sundress and trying not to strangle my purse strap too hard. I'd already lost one this month to the penguin incident. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a someone lightly smacked the back of my head, grabbing my attention. "Yo, earth to Yuri! You in there?" No. No way. I froze in place, the proverbial deer in the headlights. She's not... it couldn't be! Piecing together the last of my will, I turned my head to meet her eyes. Her smirk was like a physical weight on me, making it hard to breath, hard to speak. She rolled her eyes, clearly thrilled by my wide eyes. "You just gonna stand there, or are you coming in? We have work to do, y'know." Mary Kent. One of only three people from my high school who went to the same college as me, and the last person I'd ever expect to see in an honors class. She was taller than me by a full six inches, even in my heels. Brown hair pulled back in a little pony tail to show off her undercut and keep it out of her eyes. Slim and fit in the way someone who spent her weekends running from the cops tends to be. "R-right." I finally squeaked out a response, my voice sounding small even in my own ears. She laughed shortly, grabbing my wrist to pull me into the studio and kicking the door shut behind me. "Geeze, loosen up Yur. It's just an art class, we do this all the time." She snapped the lock on the door shut so no one would walk in on us, a gesture I appreciated immensely. But something still felt wrong as I scanned my eyes around the dimly lit classroom. Mary saw my look flicked the overhead lights on, "See? There's not even a crowd like the intermediate art class. Just you and the only TA for the art teachers this semester." My already pounding heart somehow kicked it up a notch. "J-just, uh, us?" "Yup!" She had moved into the center of the room, putting easels away to clear the space. "That oughta be a relief, right? I mean, we used to have gym together so it's not like i haven't seen your perky little... knees before." I stepped slowly up to the raised stage, trying to ignore the shivers her teasing sent down my spine and focus instead on the real logic hidden in her words. It's nothing she hasn't seen. Nothing she can't see in the mirror. Just us girls, doing an art project. Somehow I actually managed to steady my breathing, setting my purse behind the stage and looking around for somewhere to take off my dress. I realized quickly that it was silly to hide behind something when the only other person in the room was going to see me naked anyway, but I didn't want to give up the tiny amount of modesty I was afforded. "You gonna strip, or were you hoping I'd come up there and help you out?" My spine went stif, a shiver creeping down my body even as sweat began to bead on my brow under the stage spotlight. "I'd say we don't have all night, but we kinda do. No one's gonna kick us out, and I have all the keys to lock up, so." The thought of spending my whole night in here naked while Mary teased me finally got me to shake the webs out of my head. I gathered up all the courage I had, then borrowed a little extra to make up the difference so I could grab the hem of my dress and pull it over my head. I tossed it on my purse, barely managing to restrain the urge to cover myself. Instead I clasped my hands over my stomach. "Where's the- uh- Is there a cloth somewhere?" "For draping? My-" Mary stopped suddenly, and I reflexively turned to look at her. She was staring at me, and for a brief moment I thought she might finally have found a shred of modesty. She did away with that thought by grinning and wolf-whistling at me. "Damn Yuri, did you wear that just for lil' ol' me?" I glanced down at myself, at the simple white and pink underwear I had selected. It was modest, with just a little lace around the edges for flair. I felt my face flush deep red and couldn't bring myself to look back at her. "I mean... I didn't want to look frumpy if anyone saw..." "Well, you aren't gonna hear me complain." She laughed, and pulled out her sketchbook to flip to a blank page. "Anyway, I was gonna say my project doesn't include the draping element like the class's. I'm graded on one-hundred percent anatomy." "So, I-" I couldn't say it. I didn't want to think it. "You won't be covering anything up!" It was like she was telling me I got upgraded to fly first-class. She watched me stand frozen under the spotlight for a long moment, then huffed out a small amused sound. "Feeling shy, huh? That's alright, I'm really digging the lingerie anyway. Why don't you strike a pose and I'll warm up a bit? We can work up to full-frontal." I wanted to thank her, or beg her to let me just leave, or scream meaninglessly just to get all the tension out of my chest, but all I could do was stare incredulously. Mary was trying to make me comfortable? Mary? The bully that used to flip my skirt and announce the color of my panties to anyone who would listen? She rolled her eyes at me again. "Geeze, Yur. It's not that weird y'know. You realize you're the one doing me a favor, right? No one's forcing you to do this. There's no penalty if you turn around and walk away, except that I won't be able to draw from a live model." That actually made a lot of sense. I forced myself to relax a little, finally managing to meet her eyes again. She looked... earnest. Thankful. "Right." I had to clear my throat and repeat myself just to hear my own voice. "Right. Thanks for... that." Mary nodded, and I took a seat on the chair, trying to think of a pose that would be interesting for her and comfortable for me to hold. She took my hesitance to mean I was still unsure about going through with this (and she was probably right), so she addressed me in a firm but gentle tone, "Yuri, you can tell me if you want to stop, okay? I'll be sad, but I'm not gonna try and force you to do this if you're that uncomfortable. Just be honest with me, alright? Tell me how I can make this easier for you." I thought about that for a moment. What could she do? I was already willing to pose for her, at least wearing this much. I was just so self conscious about every little thing. Suddenly, a thought skipped right over my filter and out of my mouth before I could really consider it, "Could you tell me what to do?" We stared at each other for a minute, the corner of Mary's mouth twitching slightly. "Elaborate?" "Like, tell me how to pose." I clarified, gesticulating wildly as though I could fight off the misconceptions I must have created. "I mean, I'm already kind of freaking out about this whole thing, and then I spend the whole time you're drawing wondering if you're just putting up with me or... you know." She giggled, covering her mouth with a hand that wasn't nearly big enough to hide her grin. "Yeah, I can do that. Are you ready to start?" I nodded before I could psyche myself out. "As I'll ever be." "Alright then. Cross your legs and put your hands behind your head." I did as she instructed, primly putting one knee on top of the other and keeping my thighs pressed together, then weaving my fingers to help my arms stay up. "Lean back a little more, try to relax. This will be easier if you're not as stiff as a rod." I took a breath, then scooted my butt forward on the seat, leaning back and letting my shoulders fall. She made a small noise of approval in her throat, then picked up her pencil and began to work. She was quiet for a few minutes, her eyes flicking between me and the paper. She almost seemed like a different person while she worked, suddenly focused and serious. I realized, slowly, that watching her work was calming me down significantly. She was so intent on the page, it was almost as if she didn't even realize that I was wearing practically nothing. Without that assurance, I'm certain I would have been freaking out from beginning to end. When her pencil stopped moving, the anxiety came back in full. Her drawing hand settled into her lap, and her eyes moved over me in a way that was significantly less academic. I felt a new tension grow deep in my gut, making me feel slightly light-headed and unfocused. Before it became too much, Mary flicked her eyes back to my face with a knowing little smile. "Sorry Yur, just thinking about what position I want you in next." She wiggled her eyebrows, the double entendre bad enough to make me groan even as it made me blush. "Alright, let's get you comfy. Lay down on the stage." I stood from the chair and slid it back before lowering myself to the smooth wood of the little platform. For the first time, I was glad that the stage lights were so warm. Mary pondered me for a moment, opening and closing her mouth a few times, her brow scrunching as she tried to find a way to concisely tell me what she wanted. Finally she huffed and stood up, leaning over me with her hands on her hips. "I'm a painter, not a writer. This would be easier if I just moved you myself. Is it alright if I touch you?" I thought about it, my heart rate ticking up again. But when I opened my mouth to protest, I found that it really didn't sound bad, per se, just... intimate. I closed my mouth hesitantly and just nodded. Clearly pleased with my acquiescence, somehow Mary managed to keep her mouth shut as she knelt next to me. She used my ankle to move one of my legs, bending the knee until my foot was flat on the ground. Then she took my wrists, putting one hand on the thigh of my extended leg and the other on my chest just below my sternum. She tapped the hand on my thigh, "Spread your fingers." I did as I was told and she nodded before returning to her seat and retrieving her supplies. Again, we fell quiet as she sketched. I found myself watching her eyes, fascinated by the way the moved mechanically across my body, taking in details and distilling them onto the page. This time, when she finished her drawing she didn't ask me to move. Instead, she stood and stepped up onto the stage, sitting in the chair I had vacated so she could look at me from a different angle. "You know, that's always the annoying thing about figure drawing in class. A good model can be so dynamic, but I only get to draw them from one angle for each pose. Since I have you all to myself tonight, I thought I'd have some fun with it." She drew while she talked, and I found it harder to watch her this time. Something about the angle made my spine tingle with restless energy. The way she was perched above me, looking down and capturing me onto her page. I had to resist the urge to squirm, not wanting to ruin her sketch. "Alright-" she turned the page in her sketchbook before setting it on the chair and kneeling next to me again, "We're going to start stripping you now." "O-okay." I did squirm at that, the intensity in her eyes making me want to hide, or run, or... something. "Sit up." She helped pull me into a sitting position, then lifted my knees to my chest and pushing them to the side, so I was sitting half on my ass and half on my hip, body rotated slightly. I had to use one arm to keep my torso upright, which also had the effect of sticking out my chest a little. "Perfect, now put your other arm across your chest and I'll unhook you." I did as I was told, holding the cups of my bra tightly against my chest as Mary moved behind me and carefully unhooked my bra. She slid her fingers across my back, and I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from gasping. Her fingers sent goosebumps up my spine that were completely unrelated to the temperature of her digits. She lingered there, her hands sliding up to my shoulders as she looked me over. I had to dismiss the idea that she was taking a moment just to feel my skin. She must have been checking to make sure she was happy with the composition. "Your skin is so soft." I've never been so conflicted about being complimented. "Are you alright? Not going to bail on me?" "I'm alright." My voice was significantly steadier that it had any right to be. "Do I look alright?" She leaned in, lowering her voice to whisper in my ear. "You're gorgeous, Yuri." Oh no. My gut clenched, and there was no denying the bloom of warmth in my chest and legs. I knew that she was just trying to psyche me up, make me feel better about my state of dress. My praise kink didn't care. She didn't seem to have noticed the effect her words had on me, thank goodness, as she returned to her chair. She moved it before she sat again, putting herself at whatever angle she felt best captured the scene. As her pencil worked, I desperately tried to think about anything but how good it felt when she'd complimented me. So of course she had to go and double down. "Should I not have said that? You were watching my eyes before, but now it's like you can't even look at my face." Any concern in her words was overridden by the mocking little smirk she wore. Which, I was starting to realize also made me tingle in all the best places. "It's okay. I just- I wasn't expecting it." "Really? You, the pretty girl who's make up is always perfect, wearing the cutest outfits you can put together?" She paused her sketching to lean forward, looking pointedly at my choice in underwear. "Even when you think no one will see, you put a lot of work into looking your best. Is it so surprising that it pays off?" "I mean- I, uh-" I could barely think through the haze of my own blush. "Say it again?" We both froze for a second before the look on her face took on a predatory edge. "Oh? You want to hear it again, pretty girl? You want me to tell you exactly how I feel about how all your work has paid off?" She leaned back in the chair and pointed at my chest. "Drop your bra. I'd bet my life savings you look better without it anyway." I was frozen again, caught in the spotlight of that mocking little smirk. She didn't know what she'd unlocked in me, but she was going to use it in any way she could. When I finally managed to force my eyes back to her face, expecting that hungry look I'd saw flash across her features before. I did, but under it I saw the edge of fear in her eyes. She was pushing, and she knew it. Knew that I could walk away, tell her teacher about what had happened. If she'd read the situation wrong, she could hurt her reputation. She could hurt me. I made a choice, and my arms slowly fell limp, sliding away from my chest and taking my bra with them. In an instant, the hunger returned to her eyes. The smirk became a wide grin, and she said exactly what I wanted to hear. "That's a good girl." I was done. I knew she had me, and I'd go along with whatever terrible wonderful plan was making her smile like that. I think that, right then, she knew it too. "I don't know why you're so shy, Yuri. You're easily the prettiest girl from our graduating class. We both know you're probably smarter than me, and you're more gorgeous than any piece of art I could ever hope to make." Her words were going directly into my abdomen, and I could no longer keep myself from pressing my knees together, squirming as the moisture between my legs became uncomfortable. I hoped she wouldn't notice. I hoped that if she did, she would pretend not to. She noticed. She didn't pretend not to. "Is that all it takes to turn you into a squirmy mess? A few kind words and you turn into needy mess, huh?" I whimpered, looking away. I tried to cover my face, but she snapped her pencil against her book. "Eyes up." Reflex kicked in, and I was once again looking right into her eyes. "Better. Now get back in position, but put your free arm under your breasts and lift them up a little." I did as I was told. "Now, just keep looking at me like that. I want to immortalize that expression." She took her time drawing me. I spent longer like that than I had in any other position. Long enough that my supporting shoulder began to ache. I held myself steady, never looking away from her face. The whole time, she wore that wonderful, awful little smirk. Finally, just when I thought I couldn't stay still any longer, she nodded. "Relax." I tried to maintain my dignity, but the second I moved my cramped arm I fell onto my side. Rather than fight it, I rolled onto my back and stretched out my legs. Mary laughed at my escapades, standing up and coming to kneel next to me. She held up her sketch book, showing me the page she'd just been working on. "Look. Tell me what you see." I looked up at the image, capturing me just from the waist up. It was rough in places, but just like Mrs. Campbell had said earlier, it only took a few specific details to make the whole thing come to life. "It's... me." "Obviously." She tapped my nose with the eraser of her pencil. "Tell me what you look like. What does your expression convey? Your posture?" "I look..." I looked into my own eyes, rendered in enough clarity that it felt almost terrifyingly real. After a moment, I found the right words. And after another, I managed to just barely push them past my lips, whispering. "Desperate. I look like I'm begging. I look-" I trailed off, afraid to say it. Mary finished the sentence for me. "Submissive?" I nodded, and she set the sketchbook aside. Then she took my chin in her hand and turned me to look at her. "And are you?" "Yes." The voice was small, and distant. But it was so completely certain of it's own sincerity I almost didn't realize that I was the one who had spoken. "Tell me." "I'm desperate. Submissive. Begging." "What are you begging for?" "I-" I faltered, "I don't know." "Then I suppose-" She released my chin, leaning in. I felt her breath on my skin, but she paused, confusion on her face. Then, she snorted. "I just got charcoal all over your face." I blinked at her slowly, then I was giggling. It was almost hysterical, and she quickly joined me. We laughed, and every time we looked at each other it got worse, continuing the cycle until we were both lying on the stage, panting between little fits of giggles. "What are we-" Mary interrupted my question, suddenly on top of me. Kissing me. I barely had time to absorb how soft her lips were before she'd pulled away. "I'm going to go wash my hands and get a cloth to clean your face. I want you spotless when you pose for my project." I admit it, I whimpered when she pulled away. It made her look so damned pleased with herself, too. I wanted to see more of that look from her. She was true to her word, using one of the classroom sinks to wash her hands, then bringing over a warm, damp paper towel and holding me still with a hand on my jaw while she scrubbed off the smudges she'd left on my chin and cheek. "That's better. Now, let's talk about my project. I'm working on a series of paintings that I want to title 'Intimacy'. Tonight, if you agree to it, I want you to pose for one of them. Your face will be in the painting, but I can adjust the colors enough that no one should recognize you." She paused, waiting for me to ask the obvious question. I wasn't about to keep her waiting, "And how do you want me to... pose?" I had a good idea what she was going to ask, and I could tell that she knew. It made me nervous, which made her nervous. Scared of scaring me away. "There will be three paintings, so you don't have to do this one if you don't want to. The others- it's not all about-" For the first time, it was my turn to stop her. I put a hand on hers, and tried to be bold. "You want me to... um, touch myself. Right?" She nodded. "Yeah. I have a whole spiel about it too, in the contest of the others it's... well, it's not about the sex." She took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Will you do this for me, Yuri? I want to capture real intimacy. That's why I-" Something about the way she stopped herself scared me. Mary was suddenly unable to look me in the eyes. "You... what?" "I told Mrs. Campbell you volunteered to model for us." Her voice was quiet, but steady. "I didn't know how to ask you without scaring you away. I figured if you knew..." "I never would have had the balls to show up." I felt my shoulders begin to shake a little, unsure how to process this information. "I'm sorry, Yuri. It was stupid, and cruel, and-" "You owe me a date." Mary blinked at me. At the way I was flushed right down to my nipples, no longer trying to hide from her. "What?" "You're supposed to take a girl out on a date before you try to get her naked. That's, like, dating 101." "What?" she repeated herself dumbly, and I couldn't help but giggle at the way her brain just stopped. "You're gay, right? It was probably the worst kept secret in high school. You wanted me to do this because you wanted to ask me out, and putting me in your art felt like a way to establish intimacy." Clearly, she was not expecting me to break down her motivations. Not that she was making it hard, mind you. "You've had a crush on me since... the beach trip, right? In high school?" "I- yeah. Yeah! You wore that pink sundress, and those boys were being assholes-" She stopped, and it was finally her turn to blush. "You knew?" "You're about as subtle as a Banksy." That earned me a snort of laughter. "Then, why didn't you ever say anything?" She wasn't accusing me, which I appreciated immensely. "Well, you never said anything to me, either." She nodded, acknowledging the point, "And more importantly, I only recently learned that I was in to girls." "I wish you'd said something." She grinned and prodded my shoulder. "If you'd acted like the rest of us and gotten an undercut you probably would have gotten that date first!" I laughed, "Wouldn't have done me much good, I didn't have much in the way of warning." At her confused look, I slipped closer to her and leaned against her shoulder. "I only figured it out a few minutes ago. When I realized that I was going to help you with your painting." She nodded, then stopped. She looked at me, and her face lit up. It was amazing, the way each emotion hit her individually. It made her look very kissable. "You will?! You really-" I interrupted her with my lips on hers, stopping her from asking me to confirm my consent a dozen times. "I'm sure, Mary. But..." I wasn't sure how to ask for what I wanted, but by the way her eyes changed, I think she got the idea. "But someone's going to have to walk you through it, huh? You're too shy to just lay back and go to town for me, Yur? You need to be told what a good girl you are, and how you're giving me a wonderful gift by letting me immortalize your most personal pastime?" The effect was immediate, my legs tightening against each other as my heart began to pound. I swear my eyes must have dilated from the sudden rush of endorphins. "Yeah. That." "Are you going to be a good girl for me, Yuri?" Mary pushed gently on my shoulders, lowering me to the floor. "Yes." I squeaked, letting her put me where she wanted me. She leaned in close, her lips grazing my ear before she whispered, "Do you want me to help?" I whimpered. I sounded pathetically desperate even to myself. "Please." "Ask nicely." "Please..." I was at war with my own mind, so many things flashing through my mind that I was lost in the maelstrom. Mary saw me waver, and she remembered what I'd asked her for at the beginning of all this. "Do you want me to kiss you? I want to hear you say it." She put her thumb on my lips, pulling the bottom lip down until it popped back into place. "Can you do that for me, cutie? Can you beg?" Her words went straight down my spine, shot through my pussy, and leaked out into my panties. "Please, Mary. Please kiss me. I want to taste you this time." It was her turn to shiver, and the intensity of her gaze matched my own. Wordlessly, she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine. She didn't wait for my mouth to open, flicking her tongue across my lips and making me moan into her. Once she was given access she took her time to explore my mouth with her tongue, doing as she wished. It was easily the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. I knew that I was dissolving into a moaning, whimpering mess as she ran her fingers through my hair and down my arms. She encouraged me to wrap my arms around her neck, giving her hand access to my side. When she finally pulled away, leaving the tastes of cherry and graphite on my lips, her little smirk threatened to remove all coherent thought I had left. I felt almost dizzy, like I'd forgotten to breathe. Honestly I might have done just that. Regardless, she caught my gaze with hers and the steady weight of it helped center me. I felt myself relax, the most I'd opened my email to a surprise this morning. "Are you ready to show off for me, Yur?" She trailed a finger down my chest, from my collarbone to my navel. "I'm so excited to see you on display for me, all needy and touching yourself. Can you do that for me?" "I, uh-" Talking has no right being this hard. "I think so." "Good girl. I'm going to grab my sketchbook." She leaned in close to gently kiss my cheek and whisper in my ear. "Take your panties off for me." She pulled away and stood up. I must have made some wordless sound of complaint, because she flashed a look over her shoulder at me. The way she was looking down at me again, combined with the thought that I was about to be completely naked while she did her best to record it onto paper, made me shudder with anticipation. It started in my neck and traveled down my spine before sinking into my gut and making my whole system quiver. When she looked away again, I reached to my hips with shaking hands, hooking my thumbs into my panties and tugging on them. But I didn't pull them off. I knew, consciously, that I didn't have anything to be scared of. That I was safe. Hell, I wanted this. I wanted her to see me like this, to look at me with that little mocking smirk and tell me I was doing a good job. My hands, clearly, were not on the same page as the rest of me. They refused to do more than tug gently on the waistband of my panties. I whimpered softly, helplessly. Instantly, she was looking at me again, concern clear on her face. Before she could ask me what I knew she was thinking, putting voice to her own insecurities and finding out if my voice was as traitorous as my hands, I caught her eyes and tugged meaningfully on the elastic in my fingers. "Help?" Immediately, the fear left her expression. She bent to retrieve her sketchbook (giving me a lovely view), then turned and cocked her hips, placing a fist on one and raising an eyebrow at me. "Really? I leave for a second, and you're already helpless?" My only response was to whimper and squirm. She rolled her eyes dramatically and came back to kneel next to me and replace my hands with her own. "You want me to take these off of you, Yuri?" I nodded slightly, but she didn't move. Clearly, silent consent wasn't good enough for her. That, or she knew it would be more embarrassing if she made me say it. "Yes... uh, please." Still no movement, just a silent look of encouragement. "Please take off my panties for me." My voice was less 'cute begging' and more 'pitiful whining', but at least the right words came out. Little victories. She didn't keep me waiting any longer, slowly pulling the damp fabric down my legs. When both ankles were free from the confines, she examined the cloth in her hands to find that the cloth wasn't so much damp as it was absolutely fucking soaked. I was immediately mortified, much to her delight. "Wow, you must have really liked that kiss. Or was it the part where I drew you in all sorts of sexy poses?" I hoped the questions were rhetorical, because I couldn't think of a way to say 'all of the above'. Fortunately, she continued. Unfortunately, she had an evil tilt to her smile while she did. "You know, if I wasn't being generous, I might assume that you wanted me to have these, asking me to peel them off you like that. But I'd hate to break up a matching... set..." As she trailed off, she was staring at me. At my face which, as I came to realize, was wide eyed and... nodding? Pardon? I opened my mouth to say, well, anything to dissuade that notion, but looking at the wet fabric in her hands, thinking about going home without them and knowing that she had something tangible to prove this had happened- I felt that deep shiver again, that quivering in my abdomen. "I can replace them." She didn't seem to know how to respond to that, looking from me to the wet fabric and back again a few times while she processed that. Then, with a shrug, she tucked their edge into the chest pocket of her overalls and let them hang there on display. A little reminder. "We can talk about ownership when we're all done, alright? You have something more important to be doing." She tapped the knee closest to herself with the tip of one finger. "Show me where all that wet came from." I blinked slowly, my mind still caught on the fabric dangling from her pocket as she neatly pivoted onto the next little humiliation. But I was determined to see this through, so I slowly forced my knees apart, sliding my feet along the floor until they were wide enough to show her exactly what she wanted to see. She gave a low whistle of appreciation and approval. Which was easily the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to me, seeing as my pussy was absolutely drenched. I knew from, well, 'experience' that the entire area around my spread labia was slick and shiny with my arousal. She looked like she was going to lick her lips, staring so intently at me. Then she did lick her lips, and the implication made me weak. Finally she spoke to me, "Did you shave just for me? I could have sworn I saw some short 'n curlies in some of the drawings from earlier." I'd thought I was out of blood to blush with, but I think I set a new record when she asked me that. I covered my face with my hands, mortified that she had realized. I knew that she was just teasing me, but not answering her felt wrong, somehow, so I nodded without moving my hands. She laughed, a short, sweet sound that held none of the teasing tone I'd expected. I peaked through my fingers to find her smiling at me with a warmth that almost seemed discordant with the the joy she took at my discomfort. She saw my eyes, and responded by placing a hand on my knee to give it a reassuring squeeze. "It's almost too bad. I think the piece could've used a subtle reminder that the point is your pleasure, not the viewers. But I can always add some hair if I think it adds to the message." She squeezed my knee again, then sat back to put her sketchbook on her knees and ready her pencil. "Is this a comfortable position for you, or do you have a different way to get yourself off? I want you to be comfortable, not try to look good. I'll worry about that part." I thought about it for a moment. I'd never really put much thought into the positions I chose when I was masturbating. It wasn't so much something I set out to do as something I ended up doing when I was alone in bed and the mood struck me. I thought back to the last few times I'd felt the need, but I really had no idea what positions I'd been in. There was one common factor I could think of, though, "Um, do you- is there a pillow I can use? Or, um, ideally, more than one?" She considered that carefully for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "I think I make that work. Unless you plan to grind on one, because I do not recommend putting your bits on the still life pillow. We only have one though." She hopped to her feet, then off the stage. It was a short jog over to one of the various cabinets to dig around for the aforementioned pillow. While she dug, a thought occurred to me and I slowly rolled to my feet. I walked over to where I'd left my dress, retrieving it and folding it into a little pad I could use to rest my head on. It wasn't as thick as I might like, but we were improvising. By the time she got back with the awful yellow velvet throw pillow, I was already back in position under the spotlight. I took the pillow, choosing to ignore the mysterious stains, and put it between my knees before rolling onto my side and curling them just enough to keep me steady. Mary had an interesting response to this, cocking her head and choking back a chuckle. "Is that- Do you actually get off like that? Isn't that just something they do in hentai?" I turned my face to hide in the dress. I tried to talk, but the fabric muffled me, so I switched to hiding my face in my hands. "Sh- shut up. It's easier to, you know. See my laptop." "So you're a dirty girl who looks at porn when you want to get off?" I didn't justify that with a response, in no small part because I didn't think I could make an intelligible noise. "Well, that works for me. You can keep hiding your face if you want, so you know it's not in the sketch." I don't have to think about it, shaking my head. "I want to look at you." I couldn't see her face, but I could hear how she felt about that in her voice. "Well, um- I'll sit in front of you then." She did so, moving so she was sitting in front of me, although she was 'lower' than me, sitting past my feet to get an angle looking up my body. "Alright. Take your time and do what feels natural, okay? Don't worry about moving. Besides being adorable when you squirm, it's also a natural part of getting yourself off. If you try to control yourself more than you normally would you'll end up looking stiff and unnatural. Make sense?" I nodded at her, then took a few steadying breasts before I began. The first step was to wrap my left arm around my chest just under my breasts, pushing them up a little. The slight pressure felt nice, even if it was a little dull when I was already as worked up as I was. It was part of the ritual for me, so much so that I sometimes found myself doing it without thinking when I started to get turned on. Next, I slid my right hand along my lower abdomen, working my way lower and feeling the smooth skin where I'd shaved just earlier that day. Finally, I my fingers slipped between my legs. I usually spent more time on foreplay, but... well. That would be redundant, wouldn't it? I slipped my fingers back far enough to get them slick with my fluids, then carefully began to stroke the area around my clit. This prompted a soft little moan that Mary seem to both take great pleasure in, and also reminded her that she was supposed to be drawing this. Her pencil scrambled into motion, making visual notes that she could use to put together the essential details of the final painting. Her eyes switched back into that rapid, analytical scanning, taking in details that needed to be translated onto the page. Occasionally, though, I saw them slow down, along with her pencil. I was panting, trembling. I realized that I was holding in the little sounds I usually made, and I opened my mouth to let them out. They were quiet little things, barely vocalizations, just loud enough to reach my own ears and make me feel naughty. I allowed myself the occasional louder moan, something for Mary to enjoy. I knew that she'd told me this wasn't a performance, but I wanted her to hear me, to know that I wasn't just going through the motions. I saw her eyes slow on my face, and I was rewarded for my efforts by the first blush I'd seen spreading across her features. Something about seeing her losing her cool emboldened me, made me want to push her farther. I caught her eyes and bit my lower lip, keeping her attention. Then, while I had it, I slipped my left hand up over the curve of my breast. I gave it a gentle squeeze, then a harder one, before sliding my fingers to catch a nipple between my knuckles. I had learned at some point that if I squeezed from the base of my nipple, I could be rougher with it without the sensation becoming overwhelming or painful in a not-fun way. I did so, gripping it from the base and giving it a rough tug and a little twist. This caused a bit of a cascade of events. First, Mary shivered visibly, and I saw her squeeze her thighs together and wiggle in her seat. In turn, seeing the effect I had on her made me moan, low, long, and much louder than I anticipated. I don't know if she thought I might be climaxing or if the face I made was just too interesting to pass up, because she immediately switched from appreciation to analysis. Her drawing hand went wild, capturing whatever it was that she thought was so essential about that moment. Given my state of distraction, I think it's understandable that I took a moment to notice her change of phase, but as soon as I did it was like a bolt of lightning hit me right between the legs. Uh, good lightning. Sexy lightning. Retelling this is a lot more distracting than I thought it would be. The point is that it felt really good. Mentally and emotionally I was basically at the edge of my climax, ready to absolutely burst. I pushed myself harder, giving my clit a little pinch before slipping two fingers into myself. I had to let go of my nipple and half-roll onto my stomach, extending my lower leg to make room for my hand where it needed to go. In hindsight, my choice of position was inefficient at best. At least freeing my other hand let me slide it down to roughly flick my clit. As a side note, at home this position lent itself nicely to shoving my face into the pillow and having a loud orgasm. Which brings me to the problem. It all felt good. Great, even. I just wasn't getting there. It felt like there was a hard limit on my physical pleasure, a barrier I couldn't push past but beyond which was the release of orgasm. Stage fright. I spent the last of my willpower to tear my gaze away from Mary and shove my face into the fabric of my dress, biting down on a convenient fold of cloth near my lips. I closed my eyes and just focused on the pleasure, trying to call to mind one of my common go-to fantasies. But all I could think about was Mary. Watching me. Watching. I could practically scream with frustration, but I just groaned. My hands stopped moving and I slumped down onto my belly, officially surrendering. Mary's pencil continued for a few long moments before I heard her get up. I felt her kneel next to my head, then her hand slid through my hair. It was nice, but I was frustrated and embarrassed and extremely horny so when I turned my head to breathe I turned away from her. It felt too much like failing her. "Couldn't get there, huh?" Her voice was soft and kind. She kept brushing my hair out with her fingers, removing the post-masturbation tangles. "It's alright, Yur. I don't need to see you cum, you know. You gave me more than enough to work with." I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something self-deprecating. "You did wonderfully, Yuri. Really, that was more than I dared hope for." I felt the familiar tingle at her words, and I let her help me roll onto my back, although I still refused to look at her. "Are you- Should I, uh- Do you want to go home, sweetheart?" The growing fear in her voice was like an icicle in my gut. I forced myself to look up at her. I still couldn't meet her eyes, but I managed to whisper, "I'm- uh, I think I'm okay. Just frustrated. Embarrassed. Um, not in the kinda good way." She chuckled, and her smile was just delightful. "Well, I'm glad that it was at least 'kinda good'." She paused, and I could tell she was feeling out of her depth. "Can I, um, help? I don't want this to end on a bad note." "Hold me." I nuzzled into her hand. "Just... this. Touching me." She obliged me happily, adjusting to sit cross-legged before pulling my head onto her lap. "Do you like it when I play with your hair?" I made a happy little sound. "Good, because I like it too much to stop." We both giggled, and her free hand settled on my shoulder before slowly drifting to the top of my chest. She seemed pleased when I didn't object, but didn't stray any further. We stayed like that for a few minutes, my eyes drifting shut as my body came down from the unsatisfied high. Eventually, Mary stopped petting me and leaned down to give me a (relatively) chaste kiss on the lips. Without thinking, I opened my mouth for her and was left gaping and confused when she pulled away. I opened my eyes, and she giggled at my confused reaction. "I thought we were calming you down, Yur, but now you want me to french you some more? You sure about that?" "Um... no?" "Not very confident, are ya?" She splayed her fingers across my upper chest, "But I guess that's fine. I can make the hard decisions for you while your brain's all gooey." I nodded, turning to press my face into her chest and muttering something. "What was that? You gotta speak clearly, hun." I covered the hand on her chest with one of my own and slid it lower. "I think... I want you to kiss me again." Her hand was on the center of my sternum now, her fingers across one breast. "And... maybe..." When it became clear that I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought, Mary gave me a break by lifting me up enough to kiss her. I was leaning my body against hers now, and after a short kiss where she slipped her tongue into my mouth just enough to make me want more I tucked my head into the crook of her shoulder to whimper pitifully. "...more." I nuzzled her neck and planted a few small kisses there before carefully sucking on a patch of skin. She didn't stop me, so I sucked a little harder to leave a small mark. By the time I was finished, I was panting. "I want... more. Please. Please." She'd clearly been thinking about something, because when she gently pulled my head from her shoulder to look at me she was brimming with determination. "You're not done. You're thinking that if I help you you might be able to cum." It took me a moment to process her words past the desire to kiss her, but eventually I managed to nod. "If you want me to touch you like that, you need to say it. I won't touch you anywhere or in any way you don't explicitly ask me to. Can you do that, Yuri? Can you beg me to give you what you want?" I shuddered under the intensity of her gaze, a tiny mewl the only sound to escape my lips for many long moments. Then, I reached up and clasped the hand on my chest, gripping it hard. She squeeze back, and it was just enough reassurance to find my voice. "You first. Tell me you want to." "Want to? Want to touch you?" She huffed, like I'd just asked her what color the sky is. "Yuri, I've wanted this since high school. I fantasized about you so much, when the teacher said 'nude' and 'volunteer' in the same sentence I said your name without even thinking. "Yuri, tonight you've already made more of my fantasies into reality than I thought was possible. One more won't make or break the evening when it's already been the best night of my life. But if you want me to touch you, to help you get over that peak and satisfy a fantasy you didn't know you had, then of course I want to. I want to give back a little of what you've given me. Will you let me do that for you? Will you let me make you cum?" Her absolute honesty and the raw emotion in her voice almost made me tear up. Of course, while my eyes didn't get any wetter, elsewhere was a different story. "Mary, would you please help me orgasm? I want you to touch me. Please touch me." "Tell me how." "I want you to touch me however you'd like. But, to start... will you touch me all the ways you saw me touch myself? And will you tell me if you want to do more? It's too hard to think when you're touching me." By way of response, Mary rotated so my back was against her chest, giving her access to my whole body. Just like she saw, she slid her arm around my chest and gently pressed it up under my breasts. "Like this?" "Yes!" I shuddered in her arms, my nerves alight with expectation. "Please will you make me cum, Mary? I need it so bad." She placed her free hand on my belly and slid it slowly downward. I spread my legs for her, probably wider that was necessary, trying to show her how much I wanted her touch. When she slid it across my pelvis, I whimpered and couldn't help twisting my hips to try to make her speed up. When she didn't, I was sure she'd stop just at the edge and tease me. I still nearly cried when she did just that. Her question did surprise me though, "In or out first?" "W-what?" "Do you want me to rub your clit or finger you?" "In. Please- oh god, please Mary I want you inside me so bad!" She didn't take further encouragement, although she did raise her hand to her mouth to wet her fingers before reaching down and burying two digits in my desperate pussy. "Oh, fuck!" I swore loudly, my vision going white as I reflexively clamped down on her. "Don't stop!" "You're so demanding all of a sudden." She teased me, but did as I asked, pumping her fingers with a wet sloshing sound. "But I like it when you know what you want. You're almost as sexy when you're confident as you are when you're a needy mess." I enjoyed the tingle her praise sent through me, but something about the end of the statement struck a chord in me. Writhing in her embrace, I twisted until I could kiss her under the chin and whimper softly, "I like it when you're nice, but... I want you to be mean, too." She halted the steady movement of her fingers. "Mean how?" "Not like that! Please, no more edging!" She giggled, "Tell me what you mean and I'll keep going." "I want you to call me names. Mean names." Still as eloquent as ever. She began to slowly fuck me with her fingers again, earning herself an intense moan of approval. "So you want me to tell you you're a slut?" She paused to make sure she was okay, and I responded by squeezing her fingers again. "Oooohhhhh, I get it. You want me to tell you that you're being a good little whore. A perfect fucktoy for me to play with." "Yes!" I whimpered and my back arched. "I'm so close, Mary." "Already? You made it look so hard before. I guess you were just playing it up so I would given in and do it for you." She really seemed to enjoy I shudder every time she said something like that. "I haven't even gotten to do all the things you asked for. I guess I'll just have to wait for next time." "M-maybe..."I knew I was too far gone when it got hard to talk. "But- I, ah! I can't f-finish unless you rub my clit." "Well, that's good to know." She pressed her fingers all the way into me and held them there. But before I could complain about the lack of movement, she curled them against the top of my pussy. I just about jumped out of my skin at the sensation, not expecting it to be so intense. "Ooooooh, you like that, huh? You like it when I tickle your g-spot?" My only response was a mess of moaning, which only became worse when she finally released her grip around my chest so she could lift one of my breasts in her hand. She gripped it loosely, then gave it a squeeze to gauge my reaction. When it wasn't enough for her, she squeezed harder, then switched to grip and tug on the nipple. Clearly, that got the reaction she was looking for, because she kept it up. Then she added a rough twist that made me lift my hands to my mouth to muffle the volume of the half-scream that push it's way out of my throat. That gave her pause, prompting her to release her grip and ask, "Was that too much for you?" "It hurt." I panted, throwing my head back onto her shoulder. "Do it again. Harder." I can only assume that she wore a delighted evil grin as she obliged me, forcing me to grab my dress so I could scream into the bundle of fabric. That left my legs twitching, and Mary didn't need to be told what that meant. Now only softly caressing my breasts, Mary shifted forwards until she was happy with her view. She kissed my neck, prompting me to turn my head until we could lock lips, her tongue invading my mouth as she relinquished my chest and slipped her hand down to my clit. I whimpered into her mouth, gripping her legs in a futile attempt to keep my hands steady. She switched back to finger-fucking me, pounding her fingers into me rapidly as she finally began to circle my clit with her other hand. It didn't take long. Only a few seconds and I was done, my back arching as every muscle in my body seem to flex at once. What might have been a nigh ear-shattering scream of pleasure was cut off in a strangled gurgle as my throat constricted. It is absolutely not hyperbole to say that it was the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. Mary clearly enjoyed it as well, humming into my lips as I lost the mental presence to kiss her, then murmuring in my ear as I came down, telling me sweet little things like, "You're such a good girl" and "You're so sexy when you cum". I think I had been laying in her arms just trying to catch my breath for almost a minute when she asked me, "Hey, Yuri? Can I take a picture of us?" I wasn't sure if she was asking for her art or if she just wanted a keepsake, but regardless of her reason I shook my head. The thought of it was just too much right in that moment, and she didn't press me for reasons. *** It was probably five or so minutes later that the high finally died down and we both realized that laying on a hard wood floor was only comfortable for so long. We slowly untangled ourselves and I slipped my dress on. It was both extremely nice to be covered again and somewhat disappointing that it signaled the end of such a memorable night. Well, not the end exactly. We still had some problems to solve, like how I definitely looked like I'd just been fucked. That was solved by Mary, who had a spare sweatshirt she used as an apron when she was painting. It was a mess, but I took great pleasure in having a huge, soft hoodie that smelled like her. She caught me sniffing the collar, and I am reasonably sure she will never let me live it down. Totally worth it. She stole a beanie from someone else's cubby, and after some arguing she convinced me to wear it home and give it back the following day. It was my turn to make fun of her for calling it a toque like a grandma from Minnesota. To which she responded by saying something extremely inappropriate, making my knees go weak, and causing us to spend another five minutes making out and catching our breath. Which left us with the final box on the to-do list: Determine the ownership of the damp panties. Mary retrieved them from her pocket with a warm lopsided grin that held every emotion you would expect, then held them out to me, "It was really hot when you told me to keep these, but I'd hate to break up a matching set." I pondered the offered bundle. "Well, it's not like I can't get a new pair. And I'm definitely not putting them on like that. I'll wear the spares I keep in my purse." "You keep extra panties in your purse?" "You don't?" "We're off topic. You should keep these." Mary looked torn, so I gave one last push, "It's seriously alright for you to keep them, Mary. I feel a little guilty that you didn't... you know. Enjoy yourself. So, if they add anything to your personal time later, I'm glad to replace them." "That's, uh, not it." Mary winced, "I totally get why people find it hot, but... used panties are just kinda gross once they cool off. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but-" She stopped talking when she saw me laughing. I took the panties and walked them to my purse. "It's alright. You aren't into it, that's fine. I'll just have to make it up to you another time." I slipped into the plain black panties I kept in my purse, taking my time when I caught Mary enjoying the view. Then, I returned to her with a little extra sway in my hips, biting my lower lip and giving her my best bedroom eyes. "You know, I'm going to need your number if you want to make good on my I-O-U." "My, uh- I'm-" One of these days I'll have to explore how much I like making other people completely stumble over themselves. I saved her by handing her my phone. "Right. Number. One sec." She gave me her info, and I prodded her into taking a selfie for the contact image. She complied, but insisted on flipping off the camera. I stuck my tongue out at her, but it was honestly a perfect snapshot of her personality. As soon as the phone was back in my hands, I texted her a perfectly curated introduction message that had just the right saturation of emoji. She called it disturbingly cute, which I am still proud of. After that, it was the awkward goodbyes of two young adults who aren't sure where they stand with each other after an amazing encounter. Do we hug? Do we kiss? After a solid sixty seconds of impressive uncertainty, Mary aggressively pulled me into a hug and we stayed like that until someone in the distance shouted "Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" in an approving manner. We parted ways, Mary heading to get her bike while I walked the few blocks home. I spent the whole way thinking about what had happened, what it meant, and how much I wanted to do it again. Despite everything, I masturbated that night. Rolling around on my bed with the knuckle of my thumb between my teeth, I came with Mary taking up every corner of my mind. Twenty minutes later, I sent Mary a goodnight text. [Sent 22:37] Hey, I was serious about that IOU. Just give me some warning this time, alright? [Sent 22:38] Thanks for everything tonight~<3 [Sent 22:38] img11948.jpg [Rcv'd 22:46]...Really? In my hoodie??