“The most difficult problem is capturing the narrative relationship between our two models; what story do they tell together? As technically excellent as some may be, many models present themselves as statues, not living human beings. It’s fine to learn from a statue, but great art interprets the story behind the form. Many of you spoke highly of Eric’s sessions with us, and I can assure you Allison rises to the same standard. Tonight, we need to pay close attention to what their poses tell us about Allison and Eric’s relationship. Our task as artists is to capture and communicate that in your work.”
I listened to Bethany extoll our virtues as models and had the hazy thought she’d nominate us for some sort of artistic peace prize. Still, I understood what she meant.
Bethany turned to us. “We’ll start with 40 minutes of five-minute gesture poses; I’ll keep time. Please do try to tell the story of your relationship through your poses. I’m certain you’ll find what we’re looking for, and since you haven’t worked together before, please feel free to whisper during the pose. First pose, please.”
I took my robe off, tossed it under the model stand, and we stepped up to the middle of the stage. We both held out our hands in what must be the standard first pose a couple does together. We face each other, toes almost touching, hold hands and lean back, finding a balance point where we’re in equilibrium. Exciting shapes, all open to the artist’s view, not too much touching, and a chance to get to understand the other person in a posing situation. It works best with people of roughly similar height, but we found a good balance point by each of us having our left legs extended back and bent at the knee to provide more support.
“A good start. I’ll tell you when to change.” Bethany announced.
Allison whispered, “Tell me, Eric, how long have you been shaving your package?” She was refreshingly direct.
“On and off for fifteen years but consistently the past three. It felt sexy and different when I started, and I enjoyed the surprise when modeling. Not many males shaved back then, so it was sometimes a shock to artists and students. It’s a hassle, though, and I didn’t always do it.”
“What changed three years ago?”
I didn’t want to follow this line of questioning since it would eventually lead to an open display of my hard cock. Allison insistently arched her eyebrows, and I couldn’t think of a good lie. “I met the woman who became my wife during one of those squeaky-clean periods. She’d never met anyone who shaved, and long story short, she loved it. It was clear the benefits of being shaved far outweighed the hassle.” Now that the subject was open, I could feel my cock’s first hint of tumescence. It was not yet dangerously apparent, but the parking brake broke, and the car rolled downhill.
“Do you have any thoughts for our other poses?” Allison asked softly.
“If you don’t mind touching, we can do this pose, but to the side, our arms linked?”
“Yeah, that’s good. For the third, do you mind if I sit on your back while you’re down on all fours?” She asked.
“No, not at all, just sit either on my pelvis or shoulders, not right in the middle of my back.”
I tried looking only in her eyes or face but couldn’t help looking down at her body every so often. It was a sight to behold. Her large breasts had a comfortable, slight sag but were still full and firm by any measure. If her hard nipples were an indication of something besides the air temperature in the studio, she enjoyed her work. She didn’t shave any hair on her body. Fine red-blonde hair lightly tufted her underarms. Silky, long, flaming red hair framed her pussy and curled out and away from her labia.
“Do you like what you see, Eric?” She’d caught me staring.
“I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’ll try to avoid it.” I turned red from embarrassment.
“Oh, honey, I’m glad you’re looking but wish you’d display it more physically if you know what I mean. Bethany wants some narrative action, and you can’t get more active than that.”
Of course, as soon as she spoke, my cock responded. “Damn it, Allison, you’re going to get your wish. The session might get cut short if I can’t get it under control.”
“Don’t you worry about it, dear? I’ve worked with Bethany enough to know she’ll follow my intuition. Your poses will be appropriate, stiff dick and all. Give them a show. It’s what they want.”
“I’ll give it some thought.” The timer rang.
“Next pose. Eric, more of that intensity at the end, please.”
“Looks like you’re right, Allison.” We broke the pose and took a moment to stretch.
We moved into our second pose. It’s like the first, except instead of leaning back, away from each other, we lean off to the left. We started off facing each other and slightly offset, the inside of my right foot touching Allison’s right foot. We leaned to the left and maintained balance by interlinking our arms, bent at the elbow.
“I’d like to modify this if you don’t mind,” Allison said when I’d placed my foot next to hers.
She thrust her right leg forward, between and through my legs, pushing her pussy against my thigh and pulling my balls and cock against her hip. Next, she wrapped her right arm around my left hip, grabbed my ass, and used her left hand to guide my right arm into a similar position around her. The problem was negotiating her ample breasts. I threaded the needle by angling my arm above her right breast and under her left. She placed her left hand on her hip just above my arm, tilted her head back, and, smiling the most engaging smile possible, looked into my eyes. I followed her lead on the final flourishes to the pose.
“Oh my, that’s gorgeous, a frozen moment from a ferocious tango,” Bethany exclaimed and set the timer.
“I can see you have a lot to teach me, Allison, so I’ll follow your lead.”
“You’re a quick learner, Eric. Don’t worry. I’ll keep it on the right side of too much. You can tell your wife everything.”
Allison gently rocked her pelvis back and forth, rubbing her pussy against my thigh. My cock pressed against her hip, and her movement brought friction on my cock. I can resist anything except temptation and was fully erect against Allison’s hip. I set aside my concern and went with it. The pressure wasn’t enough to come, but near the end of the pose, I started oozing over Allison’s hip.
The timer rang again. “Brilliant, absolutely wonderful. Exactly what I was hoping for, please continue.”
“Down on all fours, if I remember correctly?” I asked with a smile.
Allison laughed. “You are a fast learner.”
I lowered to my hands and knees, and Allison straddled my shoulders, leaned forward over my back, and rested on her elbows, her hands draped down over my ass cheeks.
“Very nice, let’s begin.” Bethany reset the timer.
Allison’s pubic hair rubbed against me, tickling my neck. Her weight rested on my shoulders, and if I tried to scratch, I’d rub her pussy. She may not have minded, but I wanted to maintain the fiction of decorum for my wife.
Linda, my wife, and I modeled together back in California. She’s a big girl, plus-sized, only two inches shorter than me, and never thought of modeling before we met. It took my encouragement and consistent, gentle persuasion to overcome her initial reluctance. She’d agree to model only as a couple and then only with me. W