Let Me Pose For You, Mombyltmepoz4u©
"Are you ready, Kenny?"
"In a minute, Mom." I finished tying my sneakers, picked up my gym bag, and rambled downstairs. My 42 year old mother waited by the front door.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this," she asked, as I reached the bottom step.
"It's OK, Mom. It'll be fun." I smiled at her, hiding my nervousness and my excitement. 'It' was posing for my mom's art students, a group of women whose ages ranged from the 20s to the 60s. I've never modeled before, but I sure have fantasized about it a lot. And, after photographing my Aunt Jill, I've wanted to do it even more. The thought of being the model excites me even more than photographing a nude woman. Now, that I was finishing my first year at the local junior college, I had gotten up the nerve a week ago to broach the topic with my mother.
"Why do you want to model for me?" she had asked.
"Because I like being part of an aesthetic process," I said, half in truth. "A friend of mine at school has done it and he thought it was cool."
"Well, it's not easy standing still for so long, being an object for the artists to depict. It can get pretty boring and it certainly is physically tiring," she said. .
"I know, I said. But I would like to try it at least once."
"OK," she said, "but, afterward, I'd like to know what you thought of the experience."
"No problem," I said. So, now, a week later, here I am going to my first modeling session. We settled into the car and drove across town to a large Victorian home where one of Mom's students had turned a room into a fair-sized studio. As we approached the front door, I felt both excited and a bit nervous. Was I putting myself into an embarrassing situation? I'd soon find out.
Given our relationship, Mom said that I had to wear a swimsuit, so I packed a Speedo that I wore on the swim team in high school. My fantasy is to pose nude but I guess that will have to wait for another time and another place.
Most of Mom's fifteen students were already there when we arrived. Some of them I knew as friends of hers, others were strangers. I was surprised to see that Karen Murtaugh, my high school art teacher, was part of the group. The last woman to arrive was my Aunt Jill. She was quite surprised to see me there but she gave me a knowing smile.
As the women chatted, Mom asked me to change in the bathroom down the hall. After I'd stripped, I looked at myself in the mirror. I'm not buffed out but my swimming made me lean and toned. In a flash, the thought of standing in front of those women with only a Speedo on as they looked carefully at all parts of me made my cock start to rise. I quickly put on the swimsuit and stuffed my cock down so that the fabric would hold it in place. Even if the blood started to flow into it while I was posing, the pressure of the small suit would prevent my cock from popping up into a full-blown hard-on. I put on my brown robe, opened the bathroom door, and walked down the hall to the studio. I could feel my heart beating quickly.
The students were mostly in place waiting for me. Mom had shown me illustrations of ten poses that she wanted me to do. I was supposed to hold a pose for about two minutes and then switch to another one. Later, after a break, I would do two poses of thirty minutes each.
"All set, Kenny?" Mom asked. I nodded. "Ok, then, please step up on the platform and take the first pose I showed you. I found a place to drop my robe on a small chair near the door. Even with the swimsuit on, I felt almost naked. Unlike a swim meet or the beach, where a lot of people were similarly dressed, here I was the only one without much on in a room of women who were about to stare at me for a couple of hours.
I hopped up on the platform and assumed a simple standing pose. The room fell quiet, except for the sound of drawing pencils on paper. As Mom had told me, I averted my eyes and fixed my gaze on a spot on the floor. I could see my bellybutton and, four inches below it, the outline of my cock bulging against the thin dark fabric. I've always had a thing about bellybuttons—my own and others. They're very erotic to me. Seeing mine on display pushed a little extra blood to my cock and made the head of my penis bigger. I tried to think of other things so that my slightly engorged state would dissipate before it became noticeable.
"Next pose," Mom said, after two minutes. Her words took me out of my own thought stream and I worked my way into a new position. With each switch, I got more comfortable being the model and felt more natural about it. When I'd finished the tenth pose, Mom called for a short break. I put on my robe and went to the bathroom to pee. When I returned, the students were chattering in small groups.
"You're a good model, Kenny," one of them said. Mary Murtaugh, my former art teacher, smiled at me and said, "Good job." I walked around looking at their work. Most of the drawings were not much more than very quick sketches. Of course, I thought, what more could they be? I saw Mom walking towards me, a little concern on her face.
"Well, Kenny, how was the first set for you? Are you tired? Sore?"
"I'm fine, Mom. It was fun. Easier than I expected, actually." She smiled a bit.
"Well, as I told you yesterday, I want you to do two thirty-minute poses with a small break between them. Michelangelo's "David," Remember?"
"Sure," I said.
"There's one thing, though," she said with a slight frown.
"My students want you to pose nude." A jolt ran through me but I tried to appear nonchalant. Our discussion about mother, son, and swimsuit filled my mind. "They said they understood if I didn't want you to do it." She paused. "I told them that I would speak with you."
"What do you want me to do?" I said. She looked at me squarely in the eyes.
"It has to be your choice, Kenny. Would you be embarrassed being nude in front of me, your aunt, your teacher, and some of the other women you've known for some time? Would you feel uncomfortable? Most importantly, would you feel pressured into posing?"
"I hadn't expected this, that's for sure," I said. "I must admit that I'm nervous about it." I paused. Mom kept looking at me intently. I thought of the bit of pre-cum I noticed when I had pulled down my suit to use the toilet. I wondered if anyone had spotted it when I was posing. Could I keep things under control if I was standing naked in front of all of them? But wasn't this what I wanted all along—to pose nude for artists?
"But if you're cool with this, Mom, then I am, too," I finally said. She smiled.
"I'm cool with it," she said, "even though it's a bit unorthodox, to say the least." She breathed deeply. "Ok, you get yourself ready and then come back. Wear your robe until I ask you to take up the pose. When the thirty minutes is up, put the robe back on and take your break. We'll talk again to see if you want to continue for an additional period."
I walked back to the bathroom feeling chills up and down my body. In a couple minutes, I was going to be standing naked for half an hour in front of my mother and the rest of the women. I closed the bathroom door, took off my robe, and lowered my swimsuit. My cock had shrunk and my sac had shriveled into a bag of rippled skin. If they stayed that way during the session, I'd have no problem. But, what if they didn't? I looked at myself in the mirror, glanced at my cock one last time, and put my robe back on. I knew that, when I walked into the studio, there was no turning back. I opened the bathroom door.
As I entered the studio, all eyes turned towards me. I could tell that they knew I had agreed to pose nude. Mom explained what the pose would be. Then she said simply, "Get into position, Kenny."
I untied the robe and slipped it off my body. Quickly, I stepped up on the platform and struck the pose. Mom moved a light so that it cast a shadow over part of me. I stared over the heads of the artists to a wall behind them. I was naked, motionless, the object of their attention. They could look at me, all of me, intently, critically, and then create their inspiration on paper. All I could do was stand there, naked, exposed. About twenty minutes into the pose, I heard some tittering and very quickly caught some smiles. Suddenly, Mom was at the side of the platform. "Kenny," she said, softly, "look down." I lowered my head and saw a long strand of pre-cum hanging from the tip of my cock. Instinctively, I moved my hand to scoop it up. It wasn't much but it left my hand sticky. "Don't break the pose," she said, quietly. "It's normal. It happens to a lot of models. Just go on as you were."
I was so embarrassed. I felt like a little boy. I almost decided to step off the platform but I noticed that the artists had gone back to their work as if nothing had happened. Mom had gone back to observing her students and I slowly regained my composure. Ten minutes later, she called for a break. I quickly put on my robe and headed towards the bathroom.
"Let's talk," Mom said, as she stepped inside the bathroom with me. "I know that was embarrassing for you, but you handled it well. To tell you the truth, my students always get a kick out of it when they see that."
"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't even know it was happening."
"That's ok," she said. "Sometimes, guys even get a little hard. If that starts to happen, just try to think of something else and it will settle down, if you know what I mean." I couldn't believe it! My mother was telling me about how to control a hard-on in front of an art class!
"Don't worry," I said. "That's not going to happen."
"Well, if it does, just go with it. Don't break the pose. I assume that you want to do the second session, is that right?"
"Sure," I said. She told me again that I was doing a good job and that I should take ten more minutes. Then she left. I sat on the small chair in the bathroom, closed my eyes, and relaxed my muscles. Several moments later, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I said. It was my Aunt Jill.
"I'm sorry, Kenny. I need to use the bathroom." I got up to leave. "You got turned on being the model, too, didn't you?" she said.
"I wasn't trying to," I said as I walked past her. She smiled and gently brushed her hand across my covered cock as she turned to close the door.
"Holy shit!" I thought. Aunt Jill wasn't helping me stay calm. I walked quickly back to the studio. A few minutes later, Mom asked her students to get ready to work again and told me to mount the platform. I dropped my robe and resumed my pose. But, just before doing so, I subconsciously grabbed my cock and balls and readjusted my "package." That didn't go unnoticed by the students or my mom. I recognized what I'd done as soon as I had done it but I acted like it hadn't happened and I again stared at the back wall.
"Ok, ladies. You have Kenny for one more half hour. Then that will be it for tonight," Mom said. The sound of pencils on paper began again as the students looked at my naked form. Within a few minutes, though, I started to have trouble. Images of male models with erections flashed in my mind. Those images turned into images of me and I could feel my cock thickening. I desperately tried to think of anything that would calm me—math problems, chemical elements, dead presidents. Nothing was working.
I shifted my eyes downward and saw my cock at half-mast and growing. I could feel myself blushing. I was ready to step down and cover myself when I thought of my mother's words: "Just go with it. Don't break the pose." When I raised my eyes, I could see that they all knew what was happening.
"Don't worry about it, Kenny," someone said. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah, Kenny," said another. "It adds something unique to the pose." A couple of the women laughed at that remark and it seemed to take the tension out of the room. It didn't help me, though. I was hard and staying hard, my cock bobbing up and down. Mom moved closer to the platform.
"I guess our talk during the break has had an unintended consequence," she said with a bit of a chuckle. I held my pose, staring at the wall. "Well, you've only got twenty minutes to go. Are you up for it?" she laughed. "No pun intended."
"I'm ok," I said, through gritted teeth.
"Good," she said, and walked away. I stopped trying to control it. In fact, I was getting really turned on. My fantasy had come true, even better than I had imagined it would be. I started stealing glances at their faces. They all seemed to be working as usual, even though a young man with a raging hard-on was standing naked only ten feet away. Then I caught Aunt Jill looking right at me. She smiled and dropped her gaze to my cock. Then, she licked her lips and looked back at my face. I thought of her pressing her nude body against me when I had finished photographing her a week earlier. This was getting to be too much.
I lost track of the time and didn't know how much longer I had to stand there. Suddenly, one of the older women spoke up.
"You know, I think that Kenny's ripe for our traditional initiation," she said. "What do you say, ladies?" Several of them started to speak at the same time. I couldn't make out what they were saying until I heard Aunt Jill.
"Well, this is kind of unusual," she said. "I mean, Paula's his mother and I'm his aunt. Not that I'm objecting, mind you," she laughed.
"What do you say, Paula?" They all turned towards her as I held my pose. I didn't know if I was supposed to stop or what, but I did seem to be getting a little softer. Everyone was waiting for my mom to speak.
"I haven't mentioned anything about this to Kenny but, I guess, that's been true for all of the models we've 'quote' initiated." She paused, clearly thinking about what she would say next. All eyes followed her as she moved towards me. I could hear her take a deep breath. "Kenny, you're a great model. Look at you, still holding the pose. That's real professional." Suddenly, the others applauded.
"Keep holding the pose!" Aunt Jill shouted. I did, but I shifted my eyes to see my mother. She was smiling broadly.
"Kenny, this "initiation" they're talking about is a pretty adult thing," she said. "They want to reward you, so to speak, for what you've done. It's harmless, all of the models have loved it, but it is a bit risqué. And you won't be told ahead of time what it is. However, if you are embarrassed by it, you can call an end to it immediately."
"What do you say, Kenny?" another woman asked. "Are you willing to be a little naughty?" I was trying to figure out what was going on but I was stumped. It was really turning me on and my cock had stiffened again. I couldn't believe it. My mother, my aunt, my former teacher, and the others were all looking at me, waiting for an answer. What the hell, I thought.
"I'm game," I said. They all clapped again.
"Ok, ladies." It was the older woman again. "Tradition says the newest member of our group does the initiation. That's you, Mary."
"Oh, I don't think I should," she said, nervously. "I mean, I was his teacher and..."
"Even better," said the older woman. "You can teach him another thing or two. Besides, you've had some experience with the last model we initiated. So, no more excuses." The others clapped and chanted Mary's name. She got the 'I give up' look and smiled while nodding her head. When the chanting stopped, the older woman said, "Ok, Kenny, you keep the pose just as you are. Mary, here, is going to help you release all that tension you've been building up standing so still for so long." Everyone laughed at that. I didn't have a clue.
Suddenly, my high school art teacher got up from her easel and walked towards me. I watched her as she stepped up onto the platform and stood behind me. She said she hoped I didn't mind what she was going to do. And then, she put her left hand on my butt and slowly started to massage it. My cock strained to grow longer and thicker. "Don't move," she said, as she put her right hand on my right arm.
"Good start, Mary. Keep it up," one of my mom's friends said. Everyone laughed again. My teacher moved her hand over my ass and slid a finger down my crack. With her right hand, she slowly pushed over to my chest and tweaked my nipples. Then, she grazed her fingers down to my bellybutton and poked at it until I thought I was going to cum right there. I think she felt my distress and pulled her fingers away. Suddenly, she wrapped her right hand around my cock.
"Yes!" Aunt Jill exclaimed. Mary spread my pre-cum over the purple head of my dick and then over my shaft. When she reached my balls, she cupped them and gently squeezed a few times. All the while, she kept giving my ass a sensual massage.
"Are you ready?" she whispered in my ear. How could I say no? Actually, I couldn't speak, but I shook my head up and down.
"He's ready, ladies," she said, wickedly. I'd never imagined my teacher like this. Suddenly, they started clapping in a slow, rhythmic fashion. Mary stroked my cock to their beat. As it got faster, so did she. I knew I couldn't last much longer.
I wasn't posing any more. I was just standing there, letting Mary beat me off in front of my mother and my aunt and the others. My legs were shaking and I didn't know if I could keep standing. I started bucking my hips, as if I was fucking Mary's hand and, for a time, she held her hand steady. Then, she took it away.
"Do it yourself," she commanded. And I did. Mary reached up to my hard nipples again and played with them back and forth. I stroked faster. They clapped faster. Then, suddenly, Mary was pushing a finger against my asshole. No one had ever done that to me before. It pushed me over the top and I came more powerfully than ever before. Mary put her arm across my chest to hold me up, even as she kept pressing my hole. I could hear the women yelling and screaming, like they were cumming themselves. Time disappeared. Release was everything. And then, it was over.
As I stood up straight, Mary rubbed my cum over my stomach and chest. She still had her finger on my asshole, just resting it there. Finally, she kissed me lightly on the cheek. "You did well, Kenny. I'm glad I could help." Then, she stepped off the platform.
I looked at my mother, standing behind the others. She was smiling. So was Aunt Jill. And for the first time all night, so was I. Some of the artists used moist towels to clean me up, taking gentle care with my red cock. It got hard again but, this time, there was no explosion. I picked up my robe but I didn't put it on. Instead, I thanked everyone and then slowly walked down the hall to the bathroom, feeling their eyes on my ass all the way.
Mom and I talked on the way home about the experience. I had never spoken so openly with her about intimate things and it surely brought us closer together. She said I could model for her again anytime and I said I couldn't wait.
"Just forget the suit," she said. I promised her I would.