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From: "Matthew J Sullivan" <matthewsullivan@homemail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} - Vanessa's First Pose - part 1 (MMf, voy, reluctant exhib, no sex)
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WELCOME BACK ASSM!!
Vanessa's First Pose part 01 (MMf, reluctant, nude model, no sex, slow) by
EroTongue
Copyright 1999 by EroTongue. This story may be re-distributed provided
the following conditions are met: 1) no modifications, 2) no distribution
to minors, 3) no distribution under any other conditions prohibited by law,
4) no distribution where the distributor makes money (web sites that
receive income from admission fees would be covered by this prohibition,
but not those that receive income from ad banners or from services such as
Adult Check.)
WARNING: the following is erotic material intended for adult audiences.
It is fiction.
Comments are welcome.
Enjoy! (I hope)
1999-04-01
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------PREFACE:
Paolo was the professor for a figure-drawing class full of
hormonally-challenged college Freshmen. I was enrolled in that class. He
asked me to pose for him privately. I had agreed, reluctantly, too
embarrassed to refuse him. I saw him as an authority figure. A Bohemian
one to be sure, but an authority figure nonetheless. Naively, it had never
occurred to me that he meant nude. Yesterday he had me go through various
stages of undress, short of nudity. It had been the most embarrassing
experience of my life. Until this morning, that is, when he had actually
coaxed me into lying nude on a dais while he sketched me from some 35 feet
away.
Then the visitor arrived.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------"Now, give me that," Paolo said, as he tugged gently on the
robe.
"But I'm NAKED under here," I hissed back, low enough that the visitor
could not hear me.
"Well," he replied with a grin, "you were NAKED just a few minutes ago,
weren't you?" His emphasis of the word "naked" mocked my own. And his
voice wasn't as low as mine had been.
I glanced at the visitor. The visitor glanced back. "He'll SEE!"
"He's an artist, just as I am."
I saw that the visitor was now obviously observing our conversation. A
bemused Mona Lisa smile forming on his lips. "But," I insisted, "he'll
SEE!"
"You're a MODEL." Paolo's voice was now more serious, though not mean.
"Models pose for artists. That's the way it works. Besides, he's here to
see me, not you."
"B-but, I thought, I thought there wouldn't be anyone else....".
"It wasn't in the original plan, I admit, but it's not like you're the
model in a figure-drawing class full of hormonally-challenged Freshmen."
Paolo paused. "Look, V." Softer now, with a touch of exasperation, "I...I
simply can't go through this with you EVERY time I ask you for a new pose.
"But....," my voice trailed off, losing conviction.
"How about a compromise?" Paolo suddenly proposed.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------Paolo's "compromise" was that, while I would be nude, I could
cover whatever I wanted to cover with my hands. He was truly interested in
just my general form, not adolescent gynecological detail.
I cupped my left hand over my labia, with the tip of the middle finger
over my anal bud. I closed my thighs on my hand, without squeezing it
obviously. My palm felt sweaty on my sex. My thighs felt clammy against
my hand. Butterflies were taking wing in my stomach.
Positioning my right hand over my left breast (there was that sweat
again), I bent my wrist up towards my chin so I could cover my right nipple
with my forearm.
"Ready?" Paolo asked.
The butterflies in my stomach swarmed. Biting my lower lip to keep it
from trembling, my head paralyzed, I fixed my eyes on his. I said nothing,
but I'm sure the expression on my face would have been described as
'pleading'.
Paolo smiled a wry, half-smile. "Remember," he said, "you'll be less
exposed now than you were earlier."
And with that, before I could reply, the robe was gone! I let out a
shocked gasp. He had jerked it away like a magician with a tablecloth.
Paolo finished his maneuver with an unnecessary flourish, but then he
dropped the robe without ceremony on the floor behind my left shoulder.
With barely a glance at me, he sighed, turned quickly, and walked back to
his easel, muttering something under his breath as he walked. I didn't
quite catch it, but if I had to guess, I would have bet my money on:
"Finally!".
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------A glance down revealed a plentiful amount of pubes showing on
both sides of my wrist. My stomach churned. But at least my 'female
parts' were hidden. My left breast hung, pendulous, in my hand. Erotic, I
had to admit. Too erotic. My right breast, however, was somewhat crushed
under my arm, and it bulged out above and below. Not 'erotic', not 'sexy',
but 'vulgar.' No, I decided finally, 'obscene.' But I could not hold my arm
any other way and still cover my right nipple. This was terrible!
I was rigid with anxiety. Nauseous. My breathing was rapid, and came
in shallow gasps. I was literally more embarrassed than I'd ever been in
my entire life.
Paolo picked up his tools and started a new creation . The visitor
perched himself on a stool next to the easel, back towards me, positioned
so he could watch the easel. Oblivious to me.
I closed my eyes, and after several minutes, I actually started to
relax. The men were talking quietly, occasionally laughing gently. Little
sniplets of conversation worked their way into my consciousness. The
typical inanities that men spout at each other. But for the scratching of
Paolo's charcoal, I would have sworn I was listening to a Docker's
commercial. I was almost dozing now.
If you had told me a week ago I would be doing nude modeling, even for a
respected artist, I would have called you crazy. Even after yesterday's
session, if you had told me I would modeling nude today in front of TWO
men, I still would have laughed. And never having even met one of them?
Madness! Being alone with them? Just the three of us? No way! With a
stranger. Alone. Naked. A stranger. Watching me. Nude. My breast...my
pubic hair. MMMmmmmm.... I felt the slight pang of the beginning of
sexual arousal, and then...
Oh my god!
I jolted back into full consciousness from my sleep. My eyes bugged
open. Paolo had stopped drawing and was conversing with the visitor, who
still had his back to me. Thankfully, my hands and arm had not slipped out
of position while I dozed, though I still felt totally exposed. When I
jerked awake, Paolo noticed, laughed a gentle laugh, and said, "Wake up
Sleepy Head! I'm done."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------Paolo woke me and sent me on a bathroom break. I freshened
myself up as best I could, happy to be wearing even that thin robe again,
and thankful that the ordeal was over. As I returned in search of my gym
bag, Paolo had a surprise for me.
"OK Vanessa, let's get back to it while the light is still good."
"ANOTHER pose?"
Paolo rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated. Before he could say
anything, I instinctively tried to cover-up my boo-boo.
"Chill out, Paolo," I added. "It's just that you gave me the impression
we were done for the day." Truth. "I've got no problem posing again." Lie.
Lie. Lie. What was I doing?
Paolo brightened. "OK then! Sorry I overreacted. Let's get to it.
I'll start you out in the same position you were just in."
"Uh-oh," I thought. "He's gonna 'start' me in the same position? Where
will I finish? Should I just make a break for it?"
"Vanessa.......?" Paolo's voice.
"Uh..., oh, sorry. My mind just wandered." I walked timidly back to the
dais. It was just dawning on me that I was going to have to disrobe and
maneuver myself into position with the two men watching. Paolo. And the
visitor.
I had made up my mind to just do it an get it out of the way. So as I
approached he dais, with my back to the men, I took a deep breath,
unfastened the tie on the robe while I was still walking, and let it fall.
(The visitor had already had an eye-full of my butt when I took my break.)
I positioned my hands as before, left over my pubic area, right over my
breasts, before turning around to face the men. I sat on the cushion, laid
back, and swung my legs up into position. In doing so I reflexively lifted
my knees and parted my legs enough to give them a clear view in between.
My left hand was the only thing that kept them from seeing what only my
doctor had seen. And they WOULD have seen, because they were both taking
in the whole performance. Paolo was appraising me as he had done earlier,
merely as a three dimensional object that interacted with the light in a
certain way. But the in the visitor's gaze was...something else.
Something unsettling. Definitely something that made me keenly aware of my
nudity. And as the butterflies started fluttering in my stomach, I gasped
for air, unaware that I had been holding my breath this whole time.
"OK now, V.," Paolo called from his easel 30 feet away, "scoot yourself
into the middle of the platform. Yeah, that's good. Now roll a little
onto your right side. Hmmm. Nope. Uh, roll back onto your back. Scoot
further towards this side of the platform."
I'm sure I made quite a sight as I squirmed myself towards the end of
the dais nearest my feet, in Paolo's direction, while trying to keep myself
covered. I'm pretty sure my right nipple flashed a couple of times, and
each time it did I felt a jolt of anxiety right in my stomach. I finally
got as far as I could go, with my feet sticking off the end and a stupid,
overstuffed pillow under the small of my back. I was sure I looked
ridiculous.
"You look ridiculous," Paolo said. "Scoot straight back until your feet
are on the platform."
It was at the exact moment that the pillow under my back became the
pillow under my butt that Paolo shouted, "Hold it!"
"Paolo!"
"What?" His voice had the innocence of a choirboy.
"This position...!"
"Is very interesting," he interrupted. "Give me a minute."
So he pondered my body, which was on display more lewdly than it had
ever been. More lewdly than I had ever seen a woman's body displayed. My
pelvis was thrust up by the pillow under my butt, the focal point of my
body. The fingertip over my anus, which had been pretty well hidden, was
now seeing the light of day. Being observed by TWO men. I closed my
thighs tightly.
"OK," Paolo said finally, "just hold that position. But you've got to
relax."
"RELAX?" My retort came out before I could stop it.
"You did it earlier," he replied calmly. "You even fell asleep."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------As I was laying there convincing myself that this wasn't so
bad, Paolo started dumping his supplies in a box. What gives?
"What gives, Paolo?"
"Huh? Oh, I'm just moving closer."
CLOSER? He's moving closer! How much closer....?
Before I could finish the thought, Paolo was walking towards me. He
laid the supplies right at the foot of the bed and went back for his stool
and easel. A minute later he was perched on his stool right above me! He
could probably count the individual pubic hairs that peeked out from around
my wrist! I stared straight up at the ceiling. How much worse could this
get?
A moment later, the rhetorical question I posed myself was answered when
I heard the sounds of the visitor putting his stool down softly next to
Paolo's and perching himself on it. I closed my eyes. I was paralyzed.
Paolo began working, while I continued staring at the insides of my
eyelids. This time all I heard was the scratching if the charcoal, and the
visitor occasionally clearing his throat. This was NOT a Docker's
commercial. This was me, lying naked in front of two men, one of whom I
barely knew and the other who I knew not at all. I didn't even know his
name.
You know how it was when you were young, and woke from a monster-filled
nightmare? You were afraid to open your eyes, lest you see the monsters.
You wanted to pull the covers completely over you, but then the monsters
would see you move and know you knew they were there. So you laid there,
rigid with fear. Unmoving. Trying the breathe naturally.
That was me right then. Except I had no covers to even contemplate
pulling over me. I was totally exposed. So I did what we all eventually
did at some point during our monster-induced paralyses: I sloooowly opened
my eyes just a teensy crack to see what was out there.
The men were quiet. Paolo was drawing quickly, intensely. But the
visitor had turned around on his stool and was studying me! Intently. He
had an obvious erection. This was mortifying! I had to do something, and
quickly! Plan A formed instantly: take a food break and then claim severe
intestinal distress from whatever I ate. Leave. Never come back.
"Paoloooo," I whined playfully, opening my eyes and smiling at him, "I'm
dying of hunger. I need to eat. NOW."
Plan A failed instantly as Paolo threw an apple down onto the bed next
to me. "Eat," he stated mechanically, "but move as little as possible."
And then he continued drawing.
The point of my complaint was not to get fed, but to get the hell out of
there. Plan B formed.
"Now Paolo," I said in a condescendingly friendly way, "I can't very
well feed myself right here, can I?" It was obvious. To feed myself, I had
to be allowed to cover up and move about.
"You're right, V," Paolo replied. But instead of hearing exasperation,
I heard in his voice that same dogged, mechanical determination I heard
when he threw the apple at me. Plan B was about to fail. Spectacularly.
Paolo turned to the visitor and said, "Feed her."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------END OF PART 01
(Part 02 is a work in progress. Positive feedback will speed that work.
Constructive feedback will improve that work.)
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