From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:23:51 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: NEW STORY by Maggy <POSER> romance, f/m, exhibitionism From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J) Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:23:51 GMT Disclaimer This is a fantasy written down. Any similarity between persons living and dead are purely your imagination. Warning, contains graphic decriptions of consentual sex between adults. If you are under legal age or are uncomfortable with explicit sexual material, don't read this. Poser, prt1 People always tell me they can't believe I have trouble meeting guys. I'm 32, but I still have a terrific figure thanks to my bicycle and the local gym. Being blonde, blue eyed and easy to look at, and having a fun-loving personality, they just can't believe I haven't met a guy. And it's true, I meet men every day, sometimes flirt with them. Once in a great while chemistry and biology take over, and I start dating someone until the novelty of having sex again wears off and I start noticing how incompatible we really are. So on the advice of a friend I started taking classes at the local college. With a full time job I didn't want anything like a heavy curriculum, I was just taking some art classes in the evenings, and sometimes taking advantage of the school's gym and pool. I must've made very bad choice I could in choosing classes though. The beginning ceramics class was the last place I was going to meet anybody. The only man in the whole class was obviously gay. Beginning watercolors was full of people young enough to be my children. One or two looked gorgeous and probably would have been willing, but I wasn't looking for that, it was too easy to find a one-neither my own age. But one evening as I was waiting for a friend's class to let out so we could go to the gym, I started perusing the bulletin board in the hallway. It was mostly artsy stuff that I didn't care about, notices of seminars on various artists or whatever, a few requests to share rides here or there, three-by-fives listing things for sale at one dorm or another. One notice fluttering among the cards caught my eye. BE A MODEL! EARN EXTRA MONEY! MATURE WOMEN 18-35 WANTED TO SIT AS FIGURE MODELS FOR PROFESSOR ROBERTS CLASSES. EARN TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS PER SITTING. INTERVIEW WITH PROFESSOR ROBERTS ANYTIME BETWEEN CLASSES Well twenty-five bucks was nothing, but I had seen Professor Roberts. He came into my ceramics class one evening to confer with the instructor. He was tall, lean and had a certain classical charm. Perhaps it was the neatly trimmed beard or the sadness deep in his brown eyes. I don't know, but I felt a certain attraction to him as soon as I saw him. Of course at the time I felt that he was unapproachable. He wasn't even one of my instructors. The fact that he was my age only made the situation more frustrating. I wasn't thinking about much of anything right then except the nervous tingling in my tummy. His office was close by and my friend's class was dragging on longer than expected, so I sidled over to the frosted glass door and tapped. A muffled "come in" was immediate. I was a little surprised that I had caught him so easily. I wasn't exactly dressed for anything but slopping glazed onto a ginger pot, but I couldn't back out now. Oh I suppose I could have walked away like a student prankster, but that didn't come to me at the time. Like I said, I was full of hormone feelings and fantasies of seducing the handsome teacher. I slipped into the tiny office. I think it must have once been a broom closet transformed into a tiny workspace. There was room for a desk and a couple of chairs, a single tall filing cabinet and a wall of shelves full of supplies. He smiled up from a stack of mail introduced himself and asked what he could do for me. I sat down on one of the little wooden chairs. It was tiny and made me sit oddly upright. "Well I Margaret, and I saw your note on the bulletin board. I think I'd like to be a model for you." "Do you have any previous experience?" "No, but I fit all the other criteria. Mature, 32, female." "Oh that's fine, I just wanted to make sure that you understood exactly what would be involvednews.groups.reviews 6 6aid anything about that! But then, what better way to seduce him casually? "Actually no, I went to a nude beach once or twice, but that's about it." He didn't write down anything, but fired the next question at me, "Married or single?" "Divorced, no boyfriend or anything." I was trying already, but he took that his own way. "Good, I hate it when jealous mates cause problems for the models or the class. It's happened." "What other classes are you taking right now?" I told him about my two classes and we chatted about them and how I thought I was doing for a few minutes. Being a department head, he could of course pull rank and see anything I had done personally. I wondered if he would bother. He leaned back silent for a moment, and scratched absently at his chin. When he lean foreword again I knew he had decided. "You know, we really pay the seventy five dollars a week for the benefit of the younger students...but finding a mature person would be such a novelty. I don't see how it could possibly effect your other classes...." "I don't need the money," I blurted out. I wasn't getting much out of my ex, the least the law would allow in fact. No children made things easier in that at least. But my job was more than adequate to cover my lifestyle. "All right, we'll give you a try." Gee, thanks. Of course, my glaze spattered sweats didn't do a lot to show me off. He handed me a little typed list of instructions, what to wear and to bring. "Of course, the school requires at least a token fee be paid our models, I'm not entirely sure if it's possible for you to waive the sitting fee. I'll check if you really want me to, but you might as well get something out of it. It's not nearly as glamorous as it sounds." continued... Margaret J@aol.com From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:26:53 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: New Story by Maggy <POSER> M/F romance exhibitionism From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J) Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:26:53 GMT Disclaimer- Don't read this if you are under legal age or don't like graphic descriptions of sexual activity. POSER by Maggy part 2 I've been nude in front of people before, like I said, I've been to a nude beach and I've had bikinis come off at the pool or skinny dipped when I was younger. Locker rooms don't bother me at all. Every time I get on my bike I wear revealing clothes, lycra and spandex, and neither of those materials leave anything to the imagination, particularly if you get caught in a sudden downpour. As I rode my bike home, I found myself getting turned on, by the saddle and the idea of showing myself off to MY professor. And twenty-odd others in the class. Regardless of what you've heard about "bicycle smile" they just don't hit the right spots to do more than tease. I was just glad it was late enough when I got home that I didn't run in to anybody, because my bike pants had an embarrassingly large dark wet stain between my legs and I couldn't get inside fast enough to finish the job my bike saddle had started. My first sitting was the very next day, and I was as nervous as a cat and excited as a child at Christmas. I wanted to get the professor off by ourselves and show him how mature I was. I dressed for the ride to the school in a pair of bike pants and jog bra, threw my robe and slippers into a pack and headed off. I got there early, and got a chance to look around before the students got there, as well a chance to visually tease and titillate my prey. I know he was taking every opportunity to look at my body like when he helped me up the stairs to the posing "stage". This was just a wooden box maybe four feet square and about that high, surrounded by lights hung on a wooden frame. It looked very home-made, but it was sturdy. He handed me up a little cushion to put on the stool I was to pose on, and I could feel his eyes moving up my body as he did. The students began to arrive, many of them checking out the tall woman in the black bike pants who was to be their model. "Where should I get ready?" It seemed silly to be modest, since I w as about to bare all in front of everybody. he ushered me into his little office, locked the outer door and stood outside the inner one, like a guard to insure my privacy. What a laugh! I put on my robe though, and again went to the little stage. I slipped it off and handed it to him as I mounted the little platform, just to be sure he got a good close view. A couple of the students cleared their throats nervously. He had warned me to move around a good bit, find a comfortable pose, and hold it. I was going to be holding it a long time, and I had to get back into the pose after breaks. I had never thought about having to look sexy while being naked, or how best to sit on a barstool nude. I realized that my knees were not exactly in the most modest position, and that every student within ten feet had an intimate view. But I eventually settled on a "tasteful" pose, very upright, knees together. I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands, so I ended up with them on my hips. In retrospect it wasn't the easiest pose to hold, and it must have seemed I was thrusting my breasts out at the class. If only they all knew how badly I had to go to the bathroom by the first break they wouldn't have worried about my breasts. I grabbed my robe and practically ran to the bathrooms. It was kind of an odd feeling to walk around at school, nude but for a bathrobe. I had done so in college, but only in the dorms, never in a public hall. The halls were deserted at the time, or someone outside the art class might have seen me as I dashed, robe not even nearly secured, into the bathroom. It was pleasantly boring actually, to sit still and quiet and let my mind wander were ever it would. Usually it wondered into idyllic interludes involving a certain bearded artist and his model. I'm vaguely aware of the fact that at times my nipples must have become puckered into tight points as I fantasized, and when I got up for the last break of the evening's sitting I noticed a damp spot in the middle of the cushion. No one commented on this though, not even a snicker. My first ever nude sitting was over, and I was anxious to see what the students had done with me. I didn't get the chance though, as they all flipped covers over their boards and stacked them up in a wooden rack. Even the one my "boss" was doing was gone when I came out of his office. "Can I see some of them?" I asked. "When they're done...artists are...sort of superstitious about things like that. Hey you must be starving! Can I buy you dinner? Nothing fancy, just a little place around the corner." I was hungry, and I was glad that no one had even snickered at my rumbling tummy. "Sure, sounds great. I didn't exactly bring evening wear though." "Nothing new here. You'll see clothes a lot more revealing than that on a Friday night.." It felt good to be walking beside a handsome man again, and he was right. Even on a Tuesday, There were some outrageous people in place. It was dark, mostly lit by neon beer signs and T.V.s, but cozy. The booths were huge, enclosing dark wood, and each table was lit by a single candle. I suppose he had no choice but to sit on the other side, given his position with the school. It wasn't likely that anyone would mistake me for a young co-ed, but I was a student... Over pizza and a pitcher we talked about our lives and got to know each other. "Just call me Bob," he said. "My parent's idea of a little joke." It might have been just my hyper-active hormones, but I think I knew right then that he was more than interested. I would lay my hand on top of his, softly brushing it, trying to be casual. I wanted to slip my shoes off and become more demonstrative of my desires, but my damn laces only knotted when I tried to reach down and untie them. It didn't matter anyway, he pleaded an early morning and walked me back to my bike, all alone triple locked to the wrack outside the building. He offered me a lift home, and I was tempted, but I assured him that I could get home safely. I hoped he was watching my ass as I pumped smoothly away. When I got home I took a long hot bubble bath. I relaxed in the steaming mass and had the most delicious fantasy of making love to Bob in this very tub. I slipped my fingers between my legs and gently explored the opening of my pussy, teasing my clit. My nipples ached to be licked, but all I could do was stroke them gently with soapy fingertips as I brought myself to orgasm after orgasm, until the water started to get cool. Margaret J@aol.com From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:29:30 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: NEW STORY by Maggy <POSER> M/F/prt 3 From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J) Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:29:30 GMT Disclaimer-Do not read if you are under legal age or are uncomfortable with explicit sexual descriptions <POSER> by Maggy prt 3 At work people asked if I had a new boyfriend (my response is always the same...maybe). I must've been mooning around like a teenage girl. Without realizing it I had dressed a lot more provocatively. Instead of my usual professionally proper blouses, I had worn a lacey silk blouse that didn't quite hide my bra unless I kept my jacket buttoned. If I had ridden my bike to work, this probably wouldn't have happened, but I had been lazy and driven, so I didn't have to concede to changing in the bathroom at work. At my watercolor class that evening I couldn't concentrate on my silly little barn. I kept imagining it as a place to roll in the hay with Bob. I knew he wasn't going to show up tonight, he had had day classes. After my workout in the gym, as I stood enjoying unlimited hot water and yet another sexy daydream, two young women came in and went to the far end of the showers. Out of the corner of my eye I watched them as they quickly showered, and then slipped off into a steamy corner together. I casually watched them as I luxuriated in the steamy heat, sharing their tender moments in each other's arms. I left them to their steamy hideaway, and raced home to my own. I was able to control myself a little better the next day, partly because I knew I had made some embarrassing mistakes yesterday, and partly because I had willed myself to behave. At five 'o one I was a block down the street from work and picking up speed. This time I wanted to be prepared, so I added some sexy undies, a pair of jeans and a blouse to the kit. And a toothbrush. I wore a bright pink body suit, and instead of looking less seductive, it made me feel moreso today. I saw my reflection in a storefront as I flashed past and it looked as though I was nude from a distance. No wonder there seemed to be so many more horns honking today! All I seemed to have on was a helmet and shoes! Talk about Lady Godiva! This time as I undressed in Bob's office, I noticed that he had tacked up some sketches. None of them had faces, but all had vaguely female features. None on a stool though, and that made me wonder if maybe I was wasting my time. It was the same pose again, but it was a shorter session. I snuck a look at Bob's board as I went out to the fountain, and saw the same vague female shape sketched in charcoal. Seated on a stool, but not quite in the pose I was in. He had reposed me into a more defiant pose still. Almost aggressive. That night I put on my street clothes instead of my bike clothes, and invited him to dinner. If I know anything about college men, student or faculty, it's that they seldom turn down a free meal. After checking that my bike was secured to the rack (it's such an old beat up thing you wouldn't think anyone would steal it, but people have tried) we rode in his car to a dollar sushi bar near my place. I was hoping that a dose of sea protein would fire him up and he'd suggest a trip to my place or his. It may be my imagination but sushi is a turn on for me. It's like power food, perfect for the body. Also there is something romantic and symbolic in sharing one or two of those big dark beers. But he dropped me off at school with only a quick peck on the cheek and a good night. DAMN! It isn't impossible to ride in jeans by any means, but they were tight jeans and the pressure the seam brought against my clit and lips was making me crazy. It seemed like I never went to sleep or took a bath anymore without masturbating like a fifteen year old boy. The following day was Ceramics, but it was a very short class because we just had to see the kiln loaded with our projects to be fired. This process took about three days, but we would be starting new projects. We had been warned that our first project might be destroyed, since things sometimes burst in the heat, and this would give everyone a chance to get a g Margaret J@aol.com