Model Life Ch. 1

Model Life, Chapter 1 - Turn About is Fair Play.

I know it's been a while since my last story, which I left hanging. Well, sometimes life gets in the way, but let me assure you, Christen ("Chris") and I have used the time well, and there are many more stories to come. I hope you enjoy this continuation of Chris's saga (see Shy Wife Ch. 1-7), though the saga now appears to focus on me, at least for now.

When we left off, Chris had just pushed "enter" on my computer keyboard and posted a nude photo of herself online. This had been a fantasy of mine, but I never thought she'd do it. After posting her picture, Chris took hold of my rising excitement, and she sucked my throbbing cock until my hot lava flowed all over her face. As I came, I thought of the people who were probably already admiring her nude body online and maybe even using her for a little self-pleasure.

**

I had hardly caught my breath when she said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" I replied.

"You got what you want, now it's time to pay the piper."

I remembered our deal. I had promised to do whatever she wanted if she took my dare to post a photo of herself naked. I didn't have much to fear. Her bets always involved a fancy dinner out, a day at the spa, or at worst, a piece of jewelry that was expensive, but worth the price. I realized that I still had the note she had given to me in my hand, now crumpled into a ball from being gripped tight during our sexual encounter. I smiled at Chris, unfolded the crumpled note and began to read. This is what it said:

Turnabout is fair play. You love to see me naked, and you'd love to see me display myself to others. You don't know how that feels, the courage it takes, or how embarrassing it can be to let someone else that you don't know, or maybe someone you do, see you completely naked. You may have known before that they were undressing you with their eyes, but now you're naked in front of them. I think it's time that you found out what it feels like, so you'll know what I have been doing for you.

You're going to put up a notice at the art school where you take sculpture, saying that you are available to pose nude for drawing, sculpting, and other art projects. You have to take any modeling assignments you are offered for the next two months, and I will want a full account from you of each time you strip down to model.

"Are you serious?" I said in surprise. As soon as I said this, I knew it was a mistake.

"What? Chris said indignantly, her brows forming into a frown. You have no problem showing me off when you win, but you're not willing to do it yourself when you lose? You think that dinner or a trinket is all I want? I'm not doing it for the trinkets. I'm doing it because it turns you on. As hard as it is for me, when you win, I know that you'll be happy, and we'll have amazing sex. But I'm going to rethink this whole thing if you're not interested in pleasing me the way I please you."

I had to do something before Chris stormed off and we never had another bet. "Hold on," I said trying to calm her down. "I didn't say I wouldn't do it. I'm just a bit surprised. This isn't anything you've ever asked for before, and I just didn't know you wanted it.

Chris looked at me skeptically as I continued. "I didn't ever force you to go through with anything you didn't want to do, I know it was hard for you, but I thought it also turned you on." Sensing I was taking a wrong turn, I retreated: "Don't worry. I want to give you want you want. I'll hold up my end of the bargain."

Chris seemed to relax a bit. "It's really hard for me to do the things that you've asked. Even at the last sculpture class I posed for, I still blushed every time that I dropped my robe. I can't help it. But to be honest, I do find it exciting too. I'm glad you want to see me naked, I'm glad that I got naked, but it's time for you to show me that you'll do it too.

"Of course, of course, I'm glad to do it." But. I added, could we put up the notice at another art school, one where I don't know people?"

From the look on her face, I immediately knew I shouldn't have said that. I wanted our games to continue, and I knew that I had to show her that I was willing to pay the price. I should have waited and negotiated later. I beat a hasty retreat. "But, if that's what you want, I'll do it. I said I'd do it and I will. You have never chickened out of a deal, and I'm not going to either."

"Good!" she said with a triumphant look on her face. Why don't you draft up something to put on the notice board and let me take a look." I agreed, and Chris continued, letting a little smile creep in. "I have to say, it makes me feel a little hot thinking of those ladies trying not to stare at your cock and wondering how big it gets when you're erect." With that, Chris reached down and started stroking me. "Are you up for round two?" she said as she paused her fondling and pulled her top off over her head, freeing her braless breasts. Chris pushed me down on the couch and climbed on top of me. My cock rose to the challenge, and I slid inside her wet pussy. As she squeezed my pecks in her hands, her nails digging in, we moved our hips together in a primal dance. I came hard, releasing everything that I had left, and we collapsed on the couch.

"I'll expect your draft tomorrow," Chris said with a smile as she rolled off of me and padded off naked to take a shower. I watched her perfect ass as she went.

**

In between meetings the next day, I spent some time thinking about my predicament. True, I had been nude with Chris at Black's Beach while I watched others ogle her and even apply sunscreen to her back. I had even participated in group sex with Chris and our friends Russ and Stacie, but a lot of alcohol was involved for all of us, and Chris has made clear that nothing like that is ever going to happen again. I'm not particularly shy about my body, but I take regular classes at the art institute. People know me there, and a couple of my coworkers attend classes there. Maria, the manager of another department at work, sits on the board of the art institute. This is not a place I want to get naked, not even for art purposes.

On the other hand, Chris had never backed out of a dare, and if I was to back out now it would upset the whole balance of our relationship. I love seeing her struggle to complete my dares. I love to watch others ogle her.

I just couldn't figure out a way out of my predicament. The only thing I could think of doing was putting together a nondescript notice to post on the bulletin board and hope that no one would call. If the notice was boring enough, perhaps I could survive two months without ever being called to model. I would satisfy the letter of the bargain, and I would have a chance of salvaging Chris' and my game.

That evening, I was barely in the door when Chris held out her hand. "Well?" she said. "Let's see it."

I didn't want to seem reluctant, so I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out the piece of paper and handed it over to her with a smile. "As promised," I said.

Chris walked over to the table and pulled a red pen from the old beer mug on the counter where we kept our pens and pencils. "This really needs some work if you're going to get any business," she said. "I think we can round 5'11" up to 6 feet. And 'fit?' let's say 'athletic build with well-defined muscles.' You can always put in some more time at the gym," she said with a smile. "Availability: evenings and weekends. Well, I guess I can't ask you to quit your job for this, so that's fine." She made a few more notes and then shoved the piece of paper back to me.

"There," she said, "that should do it." Let's print this out in 14-point bold type. I want to see a picture of it on the noticeboard down at the Art Institute when you go to your sculpture class tomorrow night.

I thought about arguing. I didn't want to use my personal cell number, but I use a separate phone for work, so that shouldn't cause problems. Plus, she never said anything about sharing the notice online, so that was a plus. I figured it was best not to rock the boat.

The next evening, I stood in front of the bulletin board at the Art Institute pretending to look over the scrawled notices for art supplies, lessons, and a couple of postings for models. Glancing over my shoulder to see that no one was looking, I pulled the notice out of my pocket and quickly tacked it up. I slid my cell phone out and was just taking a quick picture of the notice to send to Chris when I heard a voice from behind me calling my name. I turned to see Olivia, one of my coworkers, the last person that I would want to see me post a notice about modeling nude. Well, not the last person, that was Maria, Olivia's boss. But, if Olivia knew I was modeling, I figured Maria would find out soon enough.

I turned and smiled at Olivia, greeting her. Olivia is a stunningly beautiful brunette in her mid-twenties, 5'6" tall, slim, with dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin and large breasts, which, unfortunately, are kept well covered behind fashionable but conservative office attire at work. If she was a bit taller, Olivia could be a model and grace any catwalk in Rome. Instead, she sits behind a desk outside Maria's office and works as her executive assistant. Many other managers have tried to poach her, but she's devoted to Maria. Many of the young bucks at the company (at least those brave enough to approach this Italian beauty) have tried their lines on her, but Olivia always turns them down.

"Looking for a model for a project?" she asked, gesturing at the noticeboard. Apparently, she had not seen me tack up my notice. That was a relief.

"Yeah, you never know when you might need someone. You interested?" I said jokingly.

"Absolutely not!" she replied with a blush.

As we talked, Olivia looked over the noticeboard in front of us.

" I don't even know how I'd feel about drawing someone nude," she said. "Maria says it's no big deal, but I don't know."

I expressed surprise that she hadn't done figure drawing, and she explained that she was working her way up through the classes. "We're doing still life now, but we're going to move on to portraits next. I'm looking forward to that. But a nude model? Especially a man, I wouldn't know where to look," she said with a blush. Olivia looked down, then she glanced back up at me. "Well, I better head off to class,"

As Olivia turned and walked away, my eyes followed her ass in the tight jeans she wore that evening. Now, that's someone I would love to sculpt. I texted Chris a picture of the bulletin board with my notice, got a thumbs up, and headed off to my sculpture class.

Over the next couple of weeks, Chris asked every day whether I had any calls about modeling, but there was nothing. By week five, it was clear that this was not going to Chris' plan. I acted sympathetic, telling her that I would let her know as soon as there was any call, and that I was sure that someone would call soon. "Maybe it's just the summer, and people are on vacation," I suggested.

A couple of days later, Chris's cell rang while we were at dinner. She picked up. "Hi Joyce," she said. (Joyce did all the scheduling for the classes at the art institute.) "Oh, gosh, no, I'm sorry. I'm not available on Thursday nights right now. I wish that I could be there.... Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do know someone - she smiled, looking at me-- "My friend Jay put a notice up on the bulletin board at the institute. He's looking to break into modeling. I'm sure he'd be perfect.... No, I don't think he has experience, but he's an artist.... Yes, well, I didn't have any experience when I started.... OK. I understand. Please give him a try though if you hear of anything. Thanks."

She put down the phone. 'Why is it that I get calls for modeling, and you don't?" she said in a frustrated tone. "I don't even have a notice up on the board!"

"Maybe because you're unbelievably beautiful and an incredibly good model," I suggested.

She smiled appreciatively. "I'm thinking that there's not a big demand for male models, but I thought you'd at least get some calls. Joyce says they want someone with experience for this class."

I smiled sympathetically. "You certainly did your best to sell me," I said, and breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn't worked. "Well, how about I do some modeling for you right now," I suggested. She was not in the mood. I had to do something to fix this.

Two days later, as I was driving home from work, my cell rang. It came up on the screen in my car, but I didn't recognize the number. I almost let it go to voicemail, figuring it was a solicitor, but I was sitting in traffic with nothing else to do, so I answered.

"Hello," I said in a disinterested tone.

A woman's voice responded. "Hello, I'm trying to reach Jay."

"Who's asking?" I replied, ready to tell her to get lost.

"This is Joyce at the art institute, I'm sorry, have I reached you at a bad time?"

Joyce was the coordinator who called Chris yesterday. I quickly readjusted my tone. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was worried you were a solicitor since the number isn't in my phone. How can I help you?"

Her voice brightened. I saw your number on the bulletin board, and I understand that Crystal is a good friend of yours. ("Crystal" is the name that Chris used when she modeled for the drawing and sculpture classes at the Art Institute the prior year.) "She spoke very highly of you, so I thought I would reach out. The models we use for class typically have experience, and we don't like to book someone who hasn't modeled before, but a friend of mine who has her own studio reached out to me right after I spoke with Crystal, and I thought of you. I suggested she try you out. She has a small art class in her studio right now, and said she'd be willing to give you a try. The first session wouldn't be paid. It would just be a trial to see how you do. If she likes you, it will open the door to potentially modeling for her more, for pay, and her recommendation would mean a lot in getting you modeling gigs here at the institute. Are you interested?"

I did my best to sound excited. I assured Joyce that I would love to model, and the lack of pay was no problem for the first session. Actually, this was ideal. I was toward the end of my two-month commitment to Chris. The fact that I had a modeling gig would please Chris and doing it outside of the Art Institute where I knew so many people, was ideal for me. I could fulfill my promise to Chris, and we could go back to our bets, dinners, spa trips, occasional public nudity by Chris, and great sex.

The art instructor's name was Sophia, I rang her right away. Sophia told me she had a class on Tuesday evenings, mostly beginners, but some more advanced students. The class was small, only a half dozen people, so she appreciated my modeling for free. I arranged to come to the studio at 6:30 on Tuesday for class and asked her what I should bring. "Just yourself," she replied.

When I got home, Chris was elated to find that I'd finally gotten offered a modeling job. "I wish I could be there to watch."

Tuesday night came quickly. I gave Chris a kiss on the cheek and headed out. "Have fun, and I want to hear all about it." I waved, smiled and closed the door behind me.

Fifteen minutes later, I was at the studio. Up a flight of stairs, I found the space. The door was open, but there was a tapestry draped over the entry so people couldn't see into the studio. I pushed the tapestry aside and stepped into the space. In front of me was a long room, perhaps 30 feet deep and 15 feet wide. Paintings hung on the walls, mostly portraits, but there were a few figure paintings as well, I gathered they were by Sophia, and I could see that she was a talented artist. There were a few bookshelves stacked with nick knacks in art books. Midway down against the right wall was a model stand with some drapery behind it. Arranged around the stand in the semicircle were benches to be used by the students. A couple of students were setting up, a Hispanic gentleman in his sixties and a young Asian girl, who couldn't have been more than 19.

Sophia was probably in her late fifties but had a youthful manner. She welcomed me and explained where the restroom was, so that I could get ready for class.

I wandered down the hall to the restroom and changed into cotton gym shorts and a T-shirt. I figured I would pull those on between sessions. When I returned to the studio, all but one of the remaining benches were full. There was a 20 something guy with some serious tattoos running down each arm and his hair pulled back in a ponytail. Beside him, next to the young Asian woman sat two women, probably in their sixties. Next to them was an attractive brunette , probably in her mid-forties, wearing very fashionable and expensive clothes and sporting a large rock on her left ring finger.

It was a hot August night, the kind you rarely get in coastal California, and the fan in the corner of the room was working in vain to try to keep up. "Everybody," Sophia said as she turn to the group. "This is Jay, he'll be our model tonight. You all know the drill. We'll start with two-minute gestures, go on to 5 minutes and then 20 minutes. For the second half of class, we'll have one long pose so you can work on some detail." Turning to me, Sophia said: "Let's get started."

The moment of truth had arrived. I stepped up onto the model stand, pulled my T-shirt off over my head, and dropped my shorts to the floor. As I did this, I noticed that most of the artists were getting their materials ready and not looking in my direction. That's etiquette in art classes, don't watch the model undress. But, the attractive brunette with a large rock on her finger watched me closely with a slight grin on her face as I stripped. I glanced up at her and she didn't look away. Clearly, she enjoyed watching as I revealed my body to the class.

Chris was right, this was not like Black's Beach, where most of the other beachgoers are naked. I was the focus of everyone's attention. I was an object. Every inch of me would be studied and recorded. It felt strange, but it also gave me a bit of a thrill. All eyes were on me, that is, all eyes except the young Asian woman who hadn't quite managed to look up from her paper.

I felt myself getting aroused and had to quickly work to make sure that I didn't embarrass myself on my first assignment. I started with two-minute poses, choosing poses from yoga, poses from statues I'd seen, poses from paintings. After my initial strip, there was little time for me to think about being nude, I just had to find a pose that I could hold. In no time, we were on to the five-minute poses, and I quickly found that poses which I could hold for two minutes, we're much more difficult for five. I had to make sure that I had no unsupported hands, no weight all on one foot, no challenging yoga poses. I only broke concentration once, when I took a full-frontal standing pose with my hands behind my head and made eye contact with the brunette, who seemed to like what she was seeing. She didn't break eye contact, but I had to, because I could feel myself getting aroused. After 20 minutes, I was ready for my break and realized that I was hardly conscious of being nude, that is until I stopped, reached for my shorts and saw the brunette studying me with a smile.

I pulled on my shorts and took my T-shirt in my hand. The room was still very hot, and the athletic poses I had been doing actually caused me to work up a sweat. Sophia came over to me. "That was really, really nice," she said. "Those athletic poses aren't easy to hold. If you hadn't told me that you'd never modeled before, I never would have guessed it. We're going to take 5 , then we're going to do two 20 minute poses separated by another five-to-10-minute break. Think about what you want to do for a longer pose, don't choose anything too hard."

I assured Sophia that I would pick a pose that I could hold, and she wandered off to talk with one of the students. As she did that, I wandered behind the students and looked over their shoulders at their drawings. Soon, I was back on the model stand. I picked a standing pose with a long staff that Sophia had given me. I held the staff in front of me with one of my hands on the top and the other midway down, like I was punting on a river. I stood in profile to the class, with one foot in front of the other, facing toward the window.

The brunette with the rock on her left hand broke the sound of the scratching pencils and charcoal: "Sophia, it's really hot in here, do you think we could open the blinds to help the air circulate." Sophia agreed and went across the room to open the bamboo slat blinds that covered the large window on the street side of the studio. "You don't mind, do you Jay?" I assured her it was OK.

As Sophia opened the blinds, I saw that across the street, there was another two-story building, with offices on the top floor. I expected that, by this time in the evening, everyone would have gone home, but there was something going on in the office suite directly across from the studio. I could see men and women milling about in the office, drinks in hand. If I could see them, they could see me.

My guess is that Sophia knew she would be exposing me when she opened the blinds, but she seemed unconcerned. Maybe it was a test, to see my tolerance for exposure as a model. In any case, I was not going to ask her to close the blinds. The breeze actually felt good, the night was sweltering, and no one across the street could get a good enough look to identify me.

With my standing pose, I was providing a full-frontal view to the office workers if they decided to turn my way, and it was not very long before they did. I don't know who at the party glanced over first, but soon several people pointed, discussed and aimed their phones my way. This was more exposure than I wanted. Groups of two or three gathered at the open windows of the building, drinking, sitting on the windowsill and looking my way as they talked.

After about ten minutes of active ogling, the workers went back to drinking and talking as their party progressed. Every few minutes, a couple people, mostly the women, would come to the window and chat as they looked across to the studio. After what seemed like an eternity, my 20 minutes in the pose were up. I pulled on my shorts and t-shirt and the interest across the street seemed to wane, though I did get a thumbs up and a blown kiss from a couple of women at an open window in the suite.

After my break, I took a seated pose on a stool to rest my back. Sophia was right, the twist in the prior pose had been painful by the end of 20 minutes.

"That's nice, Jay," Sophia said, commenting on my seated pose. "Now spread your legs wider and put a hand on each knee. Good, now lean slightly forward like you're just ready to stand up. Can you hold that for 20 minutes?"

I assured her that I could. Now, the people with a full-frontal view of my cock draped over the front of the stool were the five people in Sophia's class, just a few feet away from me. I was looking straight ahead and couldn't see the windows across the street, but I can only assume that they mostly lost interest since my cock was shielded from their view by my right leg.

At the end of 20 minutes, I got up to stretch and briefly drew interest from across the street as I pulled on my shorts. As I stretched, I took a look at the drawings by the class members. They had become a little more detailed. The younger guy with a ponytail and tattoos clearly was talented. He had chosen to do a drawing from the waist up that captured the musculature in my arms and details of my face. It was beautiful. The older women both struggled, but they were enjoying the exercise. In contrast, my friend with the rock on her finger, who was a very talented artist, had done a study of my cock and ball sack. The detail was incredible. As I looked over her shoulder, she glanced up and smiled.

"We don't get many guys in here," she said. "I've got to get some practice on male body parts when I can." I told her that it was wonderful, if perhaps a little flattering in its dimensions.

"Oh, I think it's pretty accurate," she said with a glint in her eyes. "I do have a ruler if you want me to check."

I could feel myself getting aroused. That's the last thing I wanted. I politely declined, quickly stepped away and got ready for my final pose. Sophia wanted a reclining pose facing the class for the final hour-and-a-half of the class. My right foot rested on the ground. My left knee was raised, fully exposing my manhood. My friend with the rock on her finger smiled. She would have a good chance to draw whatever part of my anatomy she fancied, and I knew what that was.

I settled into my pose and stared at the opposite wall, like Sophia told me to do, so that my head position would remain unchanged. I heard someone come into the studio, and I saw Sophia get up. Still, I kept looking straight ahead. I could hear two women talking, but I could not quite make out the visitor's voice but could hear footsteps as Sophia and the guest began to walk down the studio and gradually came into view. Then, I realized why the visitor's voice seemed so familiar. It was Lauren, my sculpture instructor for the past several years. She was listening to Sophia talk about the students' work, as they glanced over the students' shoulders. Lauren glanced up from the drawing she was studying, making eye contact with me and giving me a subtle smile and a nod of her head.

After Sophia and Lauren had reviewed all of the students' work, they talked for a bit. Then, Sophia bent over to help the young Asian student with a problem she was having. Lauren stood behind them with her arms crossed and took in every inch of me, from my toes to my head, and everything in between. She must have stood there for 5 minutes just studying me. This was not just some anonymous artist, this was someone I had been working with for years, and she was memorizing every inch of my naked body.

Finally, Lauren said something to Sophia, they both took a minute to look my way and study me as they talked. Then, with a nod of her head in my direction, Lauren left.

It looked like my secret was out of the bag, but at least my two months of modeling was almost over, and I had not had to model at the Art Institute where there were so many other people that I knew.

"OK, that's time," Sophia said with a clap of her hands. The students put down their charcoal and pencils and started to pack up. I was stunned that three hours had passed, but a lot had gone on during that time. I pulled on my T-shirt and shorts, figuring that I'd just wear those home instead of changing back into my street clothes. As I did this, Sophia came up to me. "Lauren says that you're quite a sculptor, what made you want to try modeling?" she asked.

"It just seems like something you should do if you spend a lot of time sculpting naked people." The explanation sounded plausible, and I was not about to tell her about my bet with Chris.

"Well, you did a great job. I'd be glad to have you back any time."

I thanked Sophia, and was getting ready to go, when the attractive brunette with the big rock walked up to me. "Thanks for posing for us," she said. "Here's a little something for you." She handed me a sheet of paper from her sketchpad on which she had carefully drawn my groin area, every detail, with my cock at center stage.

"I see a ring on your finger," she said. "Perhaps you can give this to your wife as a present. But, then again, I assume you give it to her all the time, that is, if she's lucky," she said with a glint in her eyes. With that, she turned and walked away. Whew!

When I got home, Chris was waiting with a martini in her hand. I drank that one, and she mixed another as I relayed the story of the evening.

"So, she really opened the blinds and exposed you to all those people across the street?" Chris asked in amazement. "That had to be intentional."

She raised her eyebrows at my story about the brunette and then raised them even higher when I handed her the drawing that the brunette had given me.

"Wow, that's pretty detailed," she said, "maybe it should go on our bedroom wall."

"Only if you let me hang the nude of you that Mark drew."

"Deal," she said.

That was not what I expected. I could feel myself getting hard.

Chris continued: "Let's see how accurate this drawing really is." With that, Chris reached over and pulled down my shorts. My cock sprang free. "Well, that's a lot bigger than in the drawing," she said with mischief in her eyes. "Let's take care of that so we can shrink you back to size and do a real comparison. With that, Chris pulled off her blouse and pushed me back on the couch. I pulled off my shirt as she stripped off her jeans and panties. Chris mounted me, her breasts swaying back and forth as she clamped down on my fully engorged member. I thought of everything I'd done that evening, and it excited me. I thought of the brunette studying my cock, I thought of the women across the street, I thought of Lauren memorizing every inch of me. It wasn't long before I burst, filling Chris with my hot liquid.

Chris stood up, my cum dripping down the inside of her leg. "Well, that's your reward for the evening. Now get out there and get some more modeling gigs," she ordered.

As she walked out of the room, I had mixed feelings about my two months of modeling coming to an end. But then I remembered Lauren and the risk of exposure at the art institute. I had to get out of this deal before my secret became common knowledge.