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From: EroTongue <EroTongue@eroticstories.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Vanessa's First Post - part 01 (MMf, reluctant exhib, no sex
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Vanessa's First Pose - part 01 (MMf, reluctant exhib, no sex)
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.)
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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