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Naked Posing For Artists

Mature Erotica

by Jeremy J. Watson

I retired at age 66. While I was in good, almost athletic health, my wife, Alice, wasn’t. She died a year later. A couple of months after that found me sitting in the recliner everyday, watching endless TV. Oh, I tried getting out and about, mostly because of the endless phone calls from my kids telling me I should ‘do something,’ but the things I tried really didn’t interest me. I took some adult education classes, attempted pickleball, volunteered at the museum, then the humane society. I even went on a group older adult camping trip – which I hated!

One day, I was browsing through a community college supplemental program catalog, and noticed a class for artists. Having always been fairly good at technical drawing, I figure this might be an interesting challenge. This class was about figure drawing.

So I paid my $120, bought some art supplies, and showed up for the first class.

Looking around, I saw my classmates were mostly my age. That makes sense, since it was at ten on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, when most younger people have to go to their jobs.

There were twelve gray-haired students besides myself, mostly women, but two of them were guys. Good thing, because I think if it had all been women, I would have dropped out right away.

The instructor, Oakley Taluko, a beautiful, thin, tall, black woman around 35 years old, introduced herself to the class, and went through the basics. We’d have a model each session, posing in various positions. We were to draw the model any way we liked – realistically, surrealistically, using any medium we liked, with or without color, and so on. However, the goal was to get the anatomical proportions, shading and shadowing, and other aspects correct, and that’s how Miss Taluko was going to help us. She’d instruct on not only technical ways to transfer measurements to paper, but also right-brain techniques. It sounded good already. I was imagining myself as becoming the next Rembrandt. Maybe I could really get interested in this.

A couple of minutes later, the first model entered the room, wearing, get this… nothing but a bathrobe! I didn’t see that coming.

Now, I guess I should have known. This was a figure drawing class, and if I had thought about it even a little bit, I would have remembered that models posing nude is the tradition in such classes. I believe the theory is that clothing is problematic in two ways: It obscures the body itself, making it hard to learn the anatomy and get your drawings right. If you don’t learn what’s under the clothing, you’ll never be as good at drawing people with or without clothes. The other problem is that drawing clothing is a challenge in itself, and removing that complication makes it easier to learn the basics of figure drawing.

The model was Audrey, Miss Taluko’s younger sister, also very dark complected. They must have been first-generation African, and judging by their slight accents, they may have been born in Africa.

There was a little raised platform in the classroom surrounded by us students with our easels. On the platform was a stool and a sofa. Audrey stepped up onto the platform, as cool as a cucumber, she threw the bathrobe onto the sofa and sat on the stool. She was stark naked!

She was really quite well-proportioned. She had somewhat small breasts, although still plenty ample. Her nipples were even darker than she was. They were jet black. And as if she wasn’t delightful enough already, she was also totally shaved down below. The way she was posing on the stool, I could see the vertical slit of her vagina between the tops of her legs, and it was breathtaking to look at.

I think I may have felt a bit of a stirring in my pants. That was rather surprising. I hadn’t even so much as jerked off in the few months since my wife passed. I just hadn’t felt it. Not only was grief a factor, but I was feeling suddenly old, and uninterested in everything. Until just this moment!

Now, I figured I’d never have sex with this woman. But that wasn’t the point. She caused my heart to skip a few beats, and that in itself was a pleasant surprise.

So then we settled down, and I created my first-ever human figure drawing. In my opinion, it wasn’t very good. I got her arms too short and her face turned out quite distorted. Oakley, who told us she didn’t need to be “Miss Taluko,” but just “Oakley,” praised my drawing highly. But she also praised everyone’s drawing, finding something good to say about every one.

I took as much of a look as I could at the other drawings. It felt like snooping a bit, because I thought the students might want a kind of privacy. Drawing can be a very personal thing. One woman, Sharon, did a particularly realistic job, right down to the slit of Audrey’s vagina. But she added something else: She did something strange with the lighting, an almost angelic effect, of highlighting Audrey’s nipples and crotch area. It was rather erotic.

In my opinion, and you may or may not agree, Sharon was the sexiest student in the class. She had long gray hair, tied in a pony tail down her back, reaching almost to her butt. She was thin, but not too thin, medium height, and wore glasses with reddish-brown horn rim frames that made her look educated or somehow elite.

Sharon’s drawing of Audrey drew an involuntary gasp from me. It was almost more sexual than the actual Audrey sitting right there. Sharon heard my gasp, and it made her smile. I couldn’t help smiling back, and for some reason I can’t explain, I held her gaze for a long moment, then looked away out of embarrassment.

Well, that was our first class, and I knew right away I had found my new passion. That evening found me in my recliner as usual, but not watching TV for a change. Instead, I seemed to have removed my pants, and had the first good wank I had allowed myself for the past three months. What was I fantasizing about? It wasn’t Audrey in all her beautiful nakedness. Oddly, I was fantasizing about Sharon. Having not ejaculated in so long, I came long, thick, and hard!

A few more classes came and went. Most of the models were young women. One woman was around 45 years old, and a bit chubby. Somehow, I appreciated that. Except for Audrey, the picture-perfect stick-thin, young girls don’t appeal to me the way they once did. As the classes went on, the students started to become more friendly toward each other, as is so common in classroom situations. There was light banter, and, well, we all had a great time, really.

A Wednesday morning saw me there ten minutes early, wondering who the day’s model might be. I was kind of hoping for another older model. I helped Oakley set up the easels.

The assignment for the day was to focus on shading – to make the drawings show dimensionality by shading the areas of arms, legs, bodies, and especially faces. As I was to learn was the custom, the model arrived about five or ten minutes after the class started. This time it was a college-age guy. That’s right. A man. I don’t know what I was expecting. Some sort of woman, certainly. I was disappointed.

Ken was his name, and he reminded me all too much of the perfect little doll girls play with. Part of the Barbie series, the doll is called the “Ken doll,” and although this guy wasn’t the spitting image, he was close. I immediately pegged him as shallow.

With Oakley’s instruction, he took a position on the sofa. The guy wasn’t shy, I’ll give him that. His unabashed wiener was facing toward us, and it was shaved. In fact, all of Ken was shaved. He was as hairless as a baby. Oddly, I felt a bit of a tingle in my own genitals. Weird.

We started drawing, then worked on the shading. As we were doing so, Ken conversed with us. This was unusual. Most of the models were dead quiet for the whole session, generally uttering no more than the occasional “OK” as Oakley gave them posing directions. Not Ken. This guy told us all about his plans. He was in medical school, which he says is very expensive. He had already racked up $200,000 in student loans, and was doing whatever he could to make money. Bagging groceries at minimum wage doesn’t come close to making ends meet. Since so few people are willing to do nude modeling, it pays way more per hour, and that, he likes.

Ken went on to tell us about his early days modeling. He’s an old pro now, having done it twenty times in the past year.

Sharon had the remarkable audacity to ask him whether erections were a problem. Really, she asked that!

Ken said, “If it happens, it happens!”

“But has it happened?”

“Yes, three or four times.”

“So what do you do? Do you change your pose? Do you try to cover up?”

“No, I can’t do that. It would wreck it for the artists. I just keep on keeping on. The erection will subside. Although, I have to admit, they don’t always subside as quickly as I’d like. In fact, they usually persist throughout the whole session.

“Then what do you do?”

‘Really, Sharon!’ I was thinking. Isn’t that getting way too personal with this poor guy?

He was blushing. No doubt the couple of students working in color would have to mix some red into their paints. “Well, hmmm, well, I take care of it when I get home.” he stammered.

Now, I think it was Sharon’s turn to blush.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Sharon continued.

“A boyfriend.”

That put the whole class in silence for a moment.

Then, Sharon came back with, “Does he know about your modeling?”

“Oh yes. He supports it. Often, we ‘play model’ at home. He likes me to model for him, and he models for me. Then we do, well… other stuff.”

As Ken was telling us this, something happened that I now regard as magical. His wand started to lengthen and rise up a bit. No, that wasn’t the magical part. What was magical was my reaction to it. My own wand was trying to rise in my pants. It was a bit uncomfortable, and I surreptitiously moved my underwear a bit with one hand to give it more room. I was hoping no one in the class noticed my condition. Geez, it was like I was a schoolboy again. But, to my total surprise, I was reacting to a gay situation. I wasn’t entirely shocked. A few times in my younger years, although I never acted on it, I had some traces of bisexuality in my makeup. But at nearly 67 years old?

A nice thing happens at this age. A lot of us older people become more accepting of ‘what is.’ As we age, we become less concerned with what people think, and just try to be who we are. Just live life as it presents itself. If only the younger generations could have that earlier, because being so accepting, to spend so much less time and energy seeking to conform to the norm, to get the approval of others, is very freeing. Probably good for one’s blood pressure, too. So, I was actually OK with my reaction to Ken. Oddly, he didn’t seem that shallow anymore.

That session ended all too soon. And, I have to tell you, my drawing that day was a mess. I just couldn’t focus. Oakley noticed, and her comment made the whole class laugh, “Hmmm, interesting, Jack.”

As had become my custom, I jerked off once I got home. This time it was to fantasies about Ken.

I was just about to cum when the phone rang. It was Sharon! That’s right, we had exchanged phone numbers a few weeks back and I had said, “If you ever need anything…”

“Jack, what are you doing? I mean, are you doing anything this evening?”

Holy mackerel! Was she asking me out on a date?

“Jack, I’m trying to rearrange my apartment, and the sofa is too heavy. You seem like a strong man. I was wondering…

Damn. I was hoping she was going to invite me to dinner. I know I should be the one inviting her, but of course I hadn’t. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could have. Should have. What had I been missing out on? She’s really a delightful lady. Outgoing, almost brash, but no, more like, well, just humorously outspoken.

I figured moving her sofa would be a good way to start something, so of course I said I could come over this evening.

“What are you doing right now?”

Of course I couldn’t tell her I had been wanking, and in fact still had my dick in my right hand, while I had been holding the phone with my left. But then again, she’s honest and outspoken. And I’m old, and freer. I decided to take the big risk.

“Well Sharon, do you want to know the truth, the real, honest truth?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I was having a bit of a wank.”

Dead silence.

Oh, oh, I had made a giant ass of myself. The British often use the term “wanker” to mean “loser,” and I had just became a big, stupid wanker.

“Wow, cool!”

Now, that response, I was not expecting!

“Hey Jack, why don’t you come over now, move the sofa, then finish what you started. I mean, finish it here. I’m a lonely old lady, and I really wouldn’t mind watching or maybe helping out.”

That has got to be the weirdest pick-up line I’ve ever heard, and it was a woman inviting a guy, not the other way around, but what the hell, of course I’d like that. It could be some sort of dream come true. My only concern was that it might be too technical, or too cold. When I met Alice almost 40 years ago, we dated in a much more traditional way. Still, I accepted Sharon’s invitation with great enthusiasm.

It’s a wonder I didn’t crash the car on the way over. My mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour. I stopped to pick up a bouquet and a bottle of wine along the way.

“Oh, Jack!” as she greeted me at the door. “All I needed was the sofa moved.”

I was hoping I hadn’t expected more than she had. Maybe she was just joking about finishing my masturbation at her house. I didn’t get to find out right away. As we moved her sofa, then tested a rug and some chairs in various positions, we talked about art class. I admitted that Ken got me kind of hot. She did not show any adverse reaction. In fact, she admitted the same thing. He was a good-looking young man, after all.

She had made some sandwiches, and we opened the wine. We talked more about art class, and about Ken. Suddenly, she asked, “What would you do with him, if you could?”

Wow, this Sharon is outspoken! I thought about it for a minute, and I said, “You know, I think I’d give him a blow job.”

Now, surely, I had gone too far!

“And would you like him to give you a blow job?”

“Oh yes, I’d really like that.”

“Follow me,” and with that, she made tracks into her bedroom. As she did so, she started unbuttoning her blouse, and threw it on the floor.

We reached the bedroom, and standing side by side, she in her bra, we both hesitated for just a moment, and the next thing you know, we crashed gently together in a fantastic kiss and embrace. Oh, it felt so good. For a moment my mind flickered to Alice, but I was thinking, ‘Sorry, honey, you had to know this would happen some day.’ And, I realized Alice would be happy for me.

Sharon and I kissed, and hugged so tight. I felt desperation on both our parts. She must have been as lonely as I had been. We sort of fell onto the bed as we kicked off our shoes. Still kissing, she started undoing my buttons, and I reached around and managed to unclasp her bra.

I have to say Sharon’s breasts were marvelous as only an older woman’s can be. They were lower, kind of flatter, and more pendulous, and you might say the skin was… not like an airbrushed photo. Instead, her breasts were real, and absolutely beautiful. Her small pink nipples were erect. I gently kissed one, then the other.

“Bite me!” she said, laughing. But I knew she meant it. So, ever so gently, I worked my teeth over her nipples, and she leaned back and was in heaven.

We thrashed around on the bed partly clothed for a few minutes, but soon she reached down, and removed everything I had on, releasing my rock hard penis. As she lowered my underwear, she lifted my penis with one hand, and I felt an electric shock throughout my body. Her touch was exactly what I needed at that moment. Nothing on earth could have felt more right. She then wiggled out of the remainder of her clothing. I was surprised to see that she had waxed everything, so she was as hairless as Ken had been. I must say, I like that look on men or women. I’m almost ashamed to say that I’m natural – I have never shaved my crotch area.

“I see you’re circumcised.”

“Do you like that?”

“Oh yes, very much.”

And with that, she put my rock hard schlong in her mouth. First just the tip, but within a minute or so, she was deep-throating me like an expert. She had definitely done this before.

The feelings were exquisite, Almost too much at times. I almost couldn’t take it. It was like a cross between an almost unbearable tickle, a ‘gotta-pee’ feeling, and pre-orgasmic. I suppose the intensity was because it had been so long since I had been blown. Alice wouldn’t do that for me. It just wasn’t her thing. I was probably 19 years old the last time I had been sucked by anyone, and that was a male friend. I sucked him too, and it wasn’t horrible. Back then, it did confuse me, however, and so out of pure shame, or or guilt, maybe fear, I never tried anything else ‘gay.’

It didn’t take long, and I was about to explode in her mouth. Not being sure she wanted that, I said, “I’m gonna cum.”

She stopped what she was doing immediately, saying, “Oh, let’s not let the fun end too soon.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

We changed position on the bed and found ourselves in a situation where I could easily enter her.

“Sharon, I don’t have any protection.”

She laughed long and hard, and I laughed with her. “Jack, I’m not going to get pregnant.”

“What about STDs?”

“How long has it been for you? And, you were married for how long?”

“Ah, right.”

“And knowing you the little I do, I doubt you had extramarital activities, right?”

“Quite right.”

“Same here. When my good-for-nothing husband left, that was the end of my sex life, or so I thought until this very moment. I too, am totally clean. Oh, and the only affair he had was with a co-worker, the one he left me for, and she and he are clean.”

I entered Sharon. She was slippery with wetness, no extra lubrication needed! Oh my God, it felt great. Now, somehow I don’t clearly remember what it had been like the thousand times I fucked Alice, but I didn’t care. All I know is that with Sharon it was amazing. She fit around me perfectly, and she had trained her muscles, the way some women do, so she could alternately squeeze and relax her vaginal canal.

I lost it, and while hugging on top of this beautiful woman, I came buckets into her vagina.

As my dick shrank, I eased myself out gently. You know how once a man has an orgasm, he’s all done and wants nothing more? Well that didn’t happen. I was still crazy for Sharon, and what I wanted most in the world at that moment was to please her. I crawled down to where I could lick her pussy, and proceeded to do just that. I had done this with Alice, but she had always had hair down there. Oh, I enjoyed it, but it was much, much better with Sharon, being all hairless.

I could taste my own cum mixed with her juices, and that got me tingling again. Within a couple of minutes, I was erect again. But I ignored my erection as I continued to lick Sharon. I found her clitoris, and gave her royal treatment. In a couple of minutes, she started moaning quite loudly, and arched her back. She had a crashing orgasm that involved thrashing all over the bed, and quite a bit of shaking and jittering. Here was a woman who is free enough to totally, really and truly, enjoy her orgasms.

I hate to compare, but Alice had always been too demure. Oh, we had great sex, but she held back. Perhaps her orgasms were just as strong, but she didn’t make any sound, and didn’t jitter very much. She certainly didn’t thrash around.

Suddenly, it was dark in her room. We had fallen asleep in each other’s arms! It was around 8pm, and we woke up at about the same time. I was thinking it was time to leave, but she suggested we make a dinner, then watch a movie with a bowl of popcorn. We did just that. Then, I went home.

Friday, in our next art class, Sharon and I tried to be casual, to not appear obviously in love with each other to our classmates, but I think we failed in our effort. We just couldn’t help staring at each other, and interacting in the ways that lovers do. I think the other student’s pretty much figured out what was happening. Especially when Sharon and I moved our easels next to each other. That day, although my art was no better than usual, and certainly no better than anyone else’s, when Oakley came by, she way complimented my drawing, and Sharon’s drawing. I think that was her way of expressing her approval, or joy for us.

Because I had a nice, three-bedroom house, and Sharon had a little apartment, she moved in with me. We were the perfect roommates. She’s polite and thoughtful, and I have to admit, I am too. We’re both almost clean freaks, so that works out well. With Alice, well, never mind. Let’s just say something like a tube of toothpaste in her hands was bound to end up all over the sink, the mirror and the floor. Alice had been a great and long chapter in my life, and we had two successful grown kids to prove it, but Sharon was becoming my true soulmate. We slept well together too. No snoring, no kicking off of sheets, and we slept hugged together, or like spoons every night.

At the end of the ten-week session, Oakley asked the class if we’d be interested in extending it into a master class. Every single student was all for that, and so our classes continued. But now, it was Tuesdays and Thursdays, so Oakley could still teach her normal classes. We paid a bit more, Oakley explaining that the bulk of the tuition went to pay models. It was still a heck of a deal.

The parade of models continued. To our delight, both Audrey and Ken returned several times.

One time, Ken suggested a guy that Oakley might want to hire. When she asked why this guys was so recommended, Ken only said, “He has a great, open personality.” We didn’t know what that meant, but she went ahead and tried the guy out.

A week or so later, this new guy, Jason, showed up. He was surprisingly young. Or young looking. I would have sworn he was fifteen years old. Oakley had checked, and he was indeed 18 years old. It was his first year out of high school, and like Ken, he told us needed the money for his college. education. He also stated that he ‘loves’ modeling.

He got up on the dais, and took off his clothes without fanfare. Experienced art models are like that. They just step out of their clothes as if they are in the privacy of their own homes. The beginners, and we have had a few, are hesitant, sometimes getting red in the face, and for them, it is a big deal. Almost like stage fright. Probably quite a bit like stage fright. But not Jason. Not only did he step out of his clothes, but it appeared he kept his genital area waxed or lasered. He was short, and thin, and I have to say, quite good looking, with a strong jaw, and super-intelligent lively, and friendly eyes, that any woman would fall for. He, like Ken, was also a conversationist, regaling us with an ongoing banter as he posed.

Sometimes, when the lessons don’t require a specific pose, Oakley just lets the models pick their own pose. Jason decided to sit bolt-upright right in the middle of the sofa. Not only that, he spread his legs wide.

Then he gobsmacked us all. We had seen a good number of models, and they had a variety of personalities, and did various things, but we had never seen anything as brash, as forward, as what Jason did. He started masturbating, right there on the sofa in front of all of us. Maybe you wouldn’t call it masturbating, exactly. He was definitely fondling his penis, and it was hardening up. He was also occasionally pulling on the skin of his scrotum, stretching it as far as he could. I have to say, it was a beautiful sight!

I was all for it, but I was concerned some of the other students might object. Fortunately, no one did. I mean, what kind of prude in his or her right mind, would want to kill such a nice show? So we drew our pictures. I decided to make a sketch that I would later paint. This was just too good.

So Jason jacked off for us, simultaneously talking away about his school, his plans, just whatever came to his mind, and we sketched. The session ended, and Jason, somehow, managed not to ejaculate, although he stayed rock-hard the whole time. At the end, he put his clothes on, joined us in eating some snacks Oakley had laid out, and we thanked him – profusely. He let us know he enjoyed it so much that if he didn’t need the money, he would have done it for free. I could understand his joy, and had to admire his willingness to openly do something so out of the box.

When we got home, Sharon and I discussed it. We could talk about nothing else. We both admitted that Jason was one hot show, and we then retired to the bedroom and fucked our brains out.

For our next session, Oakley had asked each of us to pay an extra $10. She was going to hire two models at once, and we were to portray in our sketches whatever interaction might happen between the two models. This would be our first making action sketches. To make it more interesting, the models didn’t know each other, and had no idea that there’d be two models instead of one.

We got there, and I’m sure every single student was excited with high expectations. The first model arrived, and it was Ken! The second model arrived three minutes later, and to our amazement and delight, it was Audrey! It would be an interesting drawing experience, a very white person, since Ken wasn’t very tanned, and Audrey, who was as dark as midnight.

Once the experiment was explained to them, that they were to do whatever they wanted, even though they had never met before, it looked like Audrey was going to get upset and leave. We were concerned. Oakley apologized to Audrey, saying she should have given her a choice. Audrey surprised us by accepting the challenge. Ken was all for it right from the start. Now, with Ken being gay, we didn’t really know what might happen, but no doubt it would be interesting.

For this, Oakley put on some light music. The two models disrobed. Ken, to our amazement, was slightly erect right away. He sat on the stool, and Audrey sat on the far side of the sofa. No posing. They just did that and made a bit of small talk. Ken then said his relationship was an open and trusting one, and his boyfriend was OK with anything. Audrey admitted she had limited experience with anything of this sort, but was willing to give it, whatever ‘it’ might turn out to be, a try.

But then they just sat there. We started to sketch what we saw. Ken moved to the other side of the sofa, and just stared at Audrey. Normally, talkative, he said nothing. After perhaps an entire minute, during which we were all flipping over new sheets of paper to start new sketches, he simply said to Audrey, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

She smiled. What a big smile that girl has! It lit her up. I quickly tried to sketch that smile. It needed to be captured. I didn’t get it quite right, and tried a couple more times. While I was focusing on the memory of that smile, and trying to sketch it, I forgot to watch the action on the sofa. I looked up when I heard everyone flipping over yet more sheets of drawing paper. Ken was wrapped around Audrey, and they were kissing in a big embrace. He penis was sticking straight up. I tried to sketch that, especially his penis, for some reason, but they went and changed again. They started getting into a fucking position right there on the sofa in front of all of us. One of the male students threw a condom to Ken, who caught it in midair and tore the package open. Audrey grabbed it out of his hands, withdrew the rubber, and started unrolling it on his hard, large penis. Moments later, they were fully fucking, and oblivious to everyone in the room. We sketched!

Our master classes were turning into something much more than we could have imagined. All the students were becoming like a big family. We had now gone out and had a big pizza dinner not once, but twice. Oakley, Audrey, Ken, Jason, joined the ‘family.’ They had become our regular models.

One day, one of the non-regular models failed to show up. We gave her ten minutes more, but nothing. Finally, Oakley asked for volunteers. She had this notion that one of us might pose. She said that in this case, it would be OK to pose with clothes on. No one volunteered. Now I’m usually shy, but since Alice died, I have had some strangely impulsive moments. My hand shot in the air like a schoolboy, and I offered to do it. I was beside myself with excitement, and couldn’t even figure why.

Oakley accepted, and I walked up to the dais. At that moment, my dear Sharon said, “You’re going to disrobe for us, aren’t you, Jack?”

No fucking way! It was the last thing I intended to do, and at the same time, it was exactly what I was hoping to do. I actually felt glad she asked. Yet, I hesitated. The students, also like school children, started chanting, “Do it, do it, do it!”

So, I had to do it, right? And I did. To the cheers of the class, I took off one shoe, then the other. I saw they were enjoying this, so I took my sweet time. Next one sock, then the other. Off came the belt, then the jacket. I’m not normally a showman, but I know a thing or two about stage presence. So, I teased my audience by pretending that I would go no further. They all started cheering me on.

“Come on, go for it Jack.”

“It’s not like we haven’t seen nudity before.”

“We’re all family here.”

You’d think I would have some sort of stage fright or something, but evidently I was a secret exhibitionist all my life. Oh, I had never acted on it, but now, here was my chance!

Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt, and then threw it at Sharon, who caught it expertly.

Now my pants came off. And finally, finally, teasing the students as long as I could, I pulled down my underwear.

Now, Sharon knew this, but of course the other students didn’t: I had lately been shaving my crotch area, so I looked quite good down there. Here was a fit, 67-year-old, man with a mostly full head of white hair, and a neatly trimmed white beard, totally naked in front of twelve art students and a teacher. It gave me a hardon. They all saw it, and appreciated it.

I picked the most provocative pose I could think of, and held it for the class. I had learned from the models how to pose so you don’t get cramped up. The trick is you go ahead and move a little bit when you need to. I posed quite successfully, I thought. Afterward, I went around the room, admiring the sketches, and in one case, a water color painting. I really did admire them, because they had all quite brilliantly caught the essence of me. My naked self, posing with an unabashed erection.

That afternoon, Sharon and I went home and fucked ourselves silly.

A couple of weeks later, the model failed to show up again, and Sharon posed for the group. That was so hot. My beautiful Sharon looking all sexy on the dais.

Like all good things, it came to an end. Oakley took a job in Chicago for an advertising agency. Audrey, who turns out to be a pretty good artist herself took Oakley’s place, but a few weeks later announced that her schedule was too full. The class disbanded, although most of us have become good friends, with various groups of us going bowling, on picnics and so on. That was five years ago. Sharon and I married last year, and we are the happiest couple, with the best friends, I have ever known.

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