When I returned to the studio from the bedroom in my robe, Gale caught my eye.
“Would you mind helping me set out the refreshments, please?”
“Certainly, Gale.”
She looked at me.
“You’re on the clock as of now, Ty. The way you move during setup is exactly the sort of thing I want them to capture. So, if you don’t mind, lose the robe, please.”
Again, why not? I took off the housecoat, folded it and laid it aside.
“Thanks,” she said. I noticed she was very careful not to stare at me. “The first thing is to help me move that table outside and into the shade. After that, we’ll take the goodies out.”
The table wasn’t all that heavy, but it was a bit unwieldly. Gale helped, though, and we got it out the door by turning it on its side. I found myself in one of those awkward positions where the table legs prevented me from actually stepping forward or walking normally. I had to shuffle and found the movement set my balls swaying just a little. I don’t think Quinn or Gale noticed, but as we passed Tammy and Heather, I saw their eyes following.
“There!” Gale announced as we put the table down. “Would you bring the drinks and the glasses, please, Ty?”
She was spreading a linen tablecloth over the table by the time I returned. A minute later, we had the drinks, snacks and dishes in place.
“Thanks for that.”
“No worries. What do you want me to do now?”
She looked around. The three other women, arrayed with sketchpads and drawing supplies, were seated in a shallow semicircle near the hedge. None of them had actually started drawing and I could see they were examining me, trying to figure out what to do next. Gale pulled up a chair for herself, went into her studio and emerged with a stick of charcoal and her own sketchpad.
“Just move,” she said. “Walk back and forth. Stretch like you’ve been doing. Turn around. Whatever.”
Her eyebrows rose. Her head tilted a little to one side as she looked up at me.
“Actually, Ty, I have a better idea. If you wouldn’t mind, perhaps you could act as a waiter for a minute or two — fetch drinks and such. That kind of natural movement would be perfect.”
The other three women all smiled brightly.
Again, it wasn’t really following the usual rules, but it made sense and I was being paid by the hour anyway.
The grass was comfortable under my feet and the sun was happily warm on my shoulders. It felt good.
Heather was closest, so I went to her first. I saw that she had made a few rough starts on her paper — outlines of my torso and legs, mainly. The breeze shifted and I could smell some sort of flowery scent on her. Her red hair shifted as she looked up at me.
“What might I get you, Heather?”
“A sangria, please, Ty.”
“Nibblies?”
“Some cheese cubes and a couple of those cherry tomatoes, please.”
I went to the table, bent over, put some ice in a glass, poured, arranged some cheese and tomatoes on a plate. Straightening, I returned to Heather. I held them out towards her in her chair.
Her voice was soft. “Could you hold them, just like that, just for a moment, Ty? Please?”
I smiled, held the pose. When she put down the sketchpad to take the refreshments, I saw she’d done a quick image of my abdomen. She’d focused on my six-pack, but the very base of my sex had been included.
“Thanks.”
I smiled in reply.
Quinn was next and asked for much the same. When I brought her order, I could see she’d sketched my back and butt as I’d been at the table. Her usual sparky manner was subdued now for some reason and she wore a just-slightly-shy smile when she took the glass.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice quite gentle.
I was surprised when I brought the shy Tammy her order. She too asked me to stand in front of her for a minute and her hands began moving rapidly over her pad. My eyebrows went up when I saw her initial drawing.
She’d had done a good job, I thought, on my thighs and lower belly. She had however paid more attention to my wedding tackle. And the day was warm, so things were riding pretty low.
Her sketch looked pretty much like what I saw in the mirror every day, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes when I handed her the glass and plate.
Gale chuckled at Tammy’s confusion. I could hear her say something to the others as I returned to the table, but her voice was low enough that I couldn’t make out what she had said. It got a burst of subdued laughter from the others, though.
When I brought Gale her sangria, I saw that her sketch was, unsurprisingly, very good. No more than a dozen strokes of charcoal had caught me in mid-step, glass and plate in hand.
“Pour yourself one, Ty,” she said. “Come stand in front of us with your glass.”
“OK, ladies,” she announced. “New challenge! You’ve got three minutes for Tyson like this.”
Eyes darted up and down, hands dragged pencils and charcoal across paper.
“Time! Let’s see your work. Hold ’em up!”
All were decent images; all had focused on different things. Heather had spent more time on my hands and lower arms, which rather surprised me. Quinn’s sketch was full-body, in mid-stride, done with broad strokes. Tammy seemed to have caught my head turning.
Gale made the usual constructive comments, gave the usual positive feedback.
An hour passed, quickly in some ways, slowly in others.
“Time’s up, girls!” Gale announced. “That’s it for this session.”
I started to head inside.
“You’re welcome to stay, Ty,” she continued. “I told you I was going to have a party if the weather was nice. It is and you’re invited.”
I saw four sets of big eyes turned towards me. Please let the big man stay!
I took another sip of sangria. It was a warm day and it wasn’t my first; I could feel the alcohol in my brain — not even partly drunk, but definitely, definitely relaxed. Looking at the women, all half my weight, all with glass in hand, I could clearly see they were feeling pretty serene, too.
“Yes!” Heather exclaimed. “Stick around, Ty! Please?”
“I’d like that, too.” Quinn said softly. She leaned forward, shook out her blonde mane and ran her fingers through it. She straightened suddenly and her hair flew back over her back and shoulders. She brushed it away from her face with her hands. I watched her nipples shift under her thin blouse.
She looked it me. “I would.”
Tammy said nothing, but I saw her nod, her hopeful smile.
“All right,” I said. “Thank you. That’d be nice. I’ll just get dressed.”
Four faces fell. I could see instant disappointment in all of them. Even Tammy, the shyest of the lot, seemed slightly deflated. It was she who broke the silence.
“Ty,” she said, rising and approaching me. Her voice dropped to the merest whisper. “Um, we’ve seen you…” Her hand waved at me, head to toe. ” I mean, I think… I think it’s nice the way you are.”
The last words came out in a rush.
Her eyes were locked on mine. Like I said, she was a tall girl. When she stood in front of me, she was only a handbreadth shorter. One slim hand rose, came up as if to touch my jaw, but stopped just short.
“Please?”
Asking a model to stick around for a party after? OK, it happens. But naked? On campus, there’d be red flags flying in every direction.