A Model Garden - La Petite Morte

A light and happy tale and my entry for the 2023 Nude Day event. While it follows earlier Model Garden stories, the only background needed is that Gale, an art professor, hired Tyson, a young bodybuilder and aspiring poet, to pose nude for a summer sketching class. She and her three students, charmed by his manner, entranced by his physique and dismayed by how hard he was having to work to stay in school, have just offered to match his salary from his low-paying job in return for more posing.

Among other things.

+

Tammy

It was a nice bum.

Even now, after all that has passed, I still blush a little to hear myself saying that. But it was indeed a very fine bottom.

And I felt myself entitled to notice.

I thought for a moment of my sketchpad pages covered with penciled studies of Tyson - formal poses in Gale's studio, him strolling casually in her back yard or straining that picture-perfect body to move lawn furniture for her.

Just watching him now set off a warm, quivery feeling deep within me.

He paused at the tavern door and waved briefly before leaving. I blinked several times, came back to earth.

A few seconds passed before all four women, still staring at the now-empty doorway, as if acting off a script, reached simultaneously for our drinks.

"Day-um!"  Quinn breathed softly. We nodded solemnly to ourselves; Tyson had had that effect on us all from the beginning.

We sat, lost in our own thoughts, for what must have been three full minutes before Gale spoke again.

"So, how do we divide him up?"

I found myself a little resentful that she had broken into my reveries, let it pass.

"'Divide him up'?"

"OK, share him."

She took another sip, set her glass on the table and looked around at us.

"We just bought the kid for the next couple of semesters," she said, looking at us levelly. "Until he graduates."

"Gale!" Heather protested. "We didn't buy  Tyson."

"Call it what you want, Red," Quinn giggled, "but two hours ago, Ty was just a model..."

"Just?" I snickered back.

My mind again pulled up my sketches of those solid thighs, of those firm, muscular buttocks, just slightly hollow on the sides. OK, I have a thing for broad shoulders on a man, but I really  like bums like Tyson's - tight, strong, full of the promise of ample crunch power on demand. That's important, I think. The boy was a tower of masculine beauty, a six-foot-four-inch bodybuilder simply crackling with male energy - Yang personified. Three days ago, he'd earned a delighted round of applause by bench-pressing Quinn and me at the same time.

Quinn was the epitome of brash and forward; she didn't blush very often. Thinking about that afternoon, she was blushing now. All four of us were.

I closed my eyes again, remembering my growing fascination as, clad only in a smile, he'd modeled for us in Gale's studio and yard week after week after sun-filled week. And then one afternoon, one thing leading to another, had sent all four of us into shuddering, breathless orgasms with mouth, hands and cock. Simultaneously.

I shivered happily.

"Tammy..."

"Tammy!"

"Tammy!"

Gale's voice called me back from my daydream. All three of them were staring at me, but their smiles echoed my happiness; it was clear that we'd all been thinking along much the same lines.

Quinn shook her head and grinned at me.

"Let's not quibble. The kid was posing as a nude model to make tuition, trying to supplement the starvation wages from his summer job. Three days ago, he got mugged with an estrogen-bomb - us."

Her brown eyes darted around, challenged any of us to shake our heads. Seeing no dissent, she continued.

"Then the Professor here," she said, nodding at Gale, "pulled off her clothes and damned near boundary-marked him like a wolf pack alpha female."

Gale flushed, but the smile on her face was a happy one.

"First off," she retorted, "I think everyone here agreed to it."

We nodded in agreement. Oh yes!  As one, nods turned to happy grins.

"Aaand, come to think of it," Gale finished, a broad smile on her face, "you'd skinned down before anyone else did, Quinn."

Which was not entirely true, if it matters, but Quinn had certainly been the first to go topless in front of the boy. It was on the line, but close enough, I thought.

Heather leaned back, swirled the last of her Manhattan in her glass.

"Anyway, Quinn, it was your  idea for us to hire him full-time."

She examined her drink for a second, finished it in one swallow, pulled the cherry off the swizzle stick with her bright, even teeth and began to chew it.

"I could do with another one or three of those," she announced out of one corner of her mouth, "but not here."

She turned to Gale and raised her eyebrows, clearly looking for an invitation.

"Fine," Gale said. "Do I hear a motion to recess to my place?"

"Moved and seconded," I said.

For once, four women settling a restaurant bill didn't take long and the 'Gang of Four', as Gale had dubbed us, were soon in a circle of lawn chairs in Gale's shady back yard, surrounded by towering hedges. She'd produced a decent bottle of white wine and was pouring for us.

I remembered the last time we four had been here. Our muscular model had been strolling about the yard, pouring us drinks and serving us snacks while we eagerly tried to capture that magnificent, sunlit nude body with chalk, charcoal or pencil...

"Tammy!"

I opened my eyes and this time shared their laughter. It was a fair cop.

Gale set the bottle to one side, sat back in her chair.

"I think you have the floor, Quinn."

The petite blonde took a sip of wine.

"OK, however we got here, ladies, the fact remains that Tyson has agreed to quit his McJob in return for our matching his wages. He'll go back to class this fall, continue to work out to keep that drool-worthy body maintained, but spend the rest of the time with us, um..."

"Modelling!" I said brightly.

All four of us exploded.

"Modelling!" Heather shrieked. Gale laughed so hard that she choked on her drink. It took a while for us to settle down.

"Modelling," Quinn said. Her voice was flat, for once not cracking a joke. "That's the story and we're going to stick to it. Gale might face a review board at the school if word got out that she and three of her friends had seduced a student model..."

The chuckling chopped off at that, for she wasn't entirely wrong. There are rules and there are rules.

"...after telling him to get a all-over wax job," she added softly.

We looked at each other.

"Gale didn't hire Ty at the school!" I protested. "I mean, her hiring him had nothing to do with the university. She was running a sketching class for us off-campus, during summer break."

"Just stick with the story," Quinn said. "It'll be simpler. He's a model. We sketch him."

I thought of some of the drawings of Ty in our sketchbooks.

"I'd hate to have to show the Dean our work to prove that," I said.

All of us had some very, um... unambiguous  sketches of Tyson's anatomy.

"No."

"No, of course not."

"No, indeed."

"So," Gale said. "That's settled; he's modelling for us. He can pose for all four of us and that's fine. What about the rest of the time?"

My mind filled with obvious options for allotting more, um, intimate  moments - cutting cards, timetables, taking turns.... From the looks on the others' faces, I could see their minds on the same paths. But no.

"I think the important thing is that we share nicely," Heather suggested. Nods all around -- she'd hit the nail on the head.

"I don't think rules or schedules are going to work," she continued. "I mean, has anybody bothered to think what that would look like to Tyson?"

We glanced at each other. No, obviously, we hadn't.

"I think we should just play it by ear," Heather said. "Keep it open, respect his wishes and be generous with each other."

Gale chuckled. "Ty's 21 years old. I doubt he is going to object to a steady diet of..."

We grinned together at the very thought. Not likely!

"But I guess we should set some basic sort of rules. Like not trying to steal him from one another."

"No." Three times.

"No secret rendezvous," I agreed. "Not without telling."

"All right, but where?" Gale continued. "I don't mind continuing to, erm, host our modelling circle, but I only have one bed here and I need to use it for, well, pardon me, sleeping."

The three of them turned to me. I knew what they were thinking. I lived right next door to Gale. on the other side of her hedge, and the house had a basement apartment.

An empty apartment.

An empty, furnished apartment.

"No way!" I stated. "Not with Ariel and Danny in the house!"

"It does have a separate entrance," Gale observed.

I stared at her.

"What?" she said. "Tell them the truth - that he's a student and my friend and that I asked you to rent it to him. The kids never even have to see him."

"Like that'd work." I shook my head. "They're children, but they're not stupid."

"No, but they're not suspicious teens, either," Gale said, raising her eyebrows. "I've seen his present apartment -- it's really ratty and on the far side of town. So, I'm asking."

"I don't think so. The kids'd notice a stream of women heading in and out of my place. And I'm not going to lie to them."

"I'm not asking you to, Tammy," she countered. "While I respect your integrity, your kids are like two and four. They're not going to see this as anything odd. Just tell them Tyson's renting the suite, which would be one hundred percent true, if it matters."

"I'll think about it," I said.

.

Quinn

"Nice place," Tyson said softly. He looked back and forth among us, his gaze finally settling on Tammy. "How much did you say rent was?"

"Rent?" I chuckled. My own eyes caught Tammy's. While remarkably less shy than she had been a week ago, I could see that she was having trouble coming up with a response that wouldn't sound weird.

Gale must have caught her hesitation, too.

"It's included in the modelling deal, Ty. The rent's on us and we'll match your present earnings, too. In return, you keep up your gym time, maintain your grades in class and pose for us daily. That's OK, right?"

.

Tammy

An odd look crossed Tyson's face.

"Just modelling?" he smiled.

"Oh yes!"

We four women all nodded virtuously. It didn't last long; all five of us were snickering in seconds, almost crying with laughter seconds later.

It slowed, grew back, died out completely when Quinn, always the daring one, spoke up.

"Oh, yes, modelling. We..." and here she let her eyes sweep over the other women's eyes, "...we've been talking about some poses we want to... sketch you in."

Suddenly the blush was on Tyson's face.

He was such a darling, I thought to myself - mature, force-of-nature masculinity overlaid with a charming wash of uncertain boyish innocence. I felt my own body reacting to him, an anticipation, the slight tightness of tummy, a total awareness at the most basic Me-Jane-You-Tarzan level.

Tyson took a deep breath. His eyes wandered from one of us to the next as he slowly exhaled. Then he smiled and those perfectly even, bright teeth were an elemental acknowledgment, a gut-level promise.

.

Gale

A collective shiver ran through all the women. I could see the flush on Tammy's face deepening and Heather's impressive bosom rising and falling. Quinn was simply staring up at him, her mouth slightly open. I caught a whiff of his aftershave and felt my nipples tighten just a little.

I shook my head, took half a pace forward. I needed him to agree openly. Again. That for some reason seemed important.

"You're sure, Ty? You're up for all this?"

Quinn coughed slightly. I looked at her, saw her gaze fixed below Tyson's waist, where a certain tautness in the fabric of his slacks indicated that the boy was definitely up for something.

I looked back up to Tyson, saw that he'd missed the unintended innuendo.

He nodded.

"Yes. Thank you. It's very generous of you all. When do we start?"

"How much stuff do you have at your old place?"

"Not much. Nothing big. Mainly clothes and food. My laptop. Some books."

"Then we can move you this afternoon, I think. Tammy will have to watch the kids, but that leaves three of us with cars."

Looking at the other women, I could see their nods, happy smiles.

.

Heather

"Meanwhile, big guy," Gale continued, "you're on the clock."

"?"

"The only time we want to see you clothed is when there's company coming or when you're off to school or the gym."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, but it was a whisper with a steel core.

"Peel, Tyson!"

His eyebrows went up and he hesitated a fraction of a second too long.

.

Quinn

The four of us met each other's eyes. Wordlessly, we stepped forward, surrounding the boy. Eight hands came up as one, sweeping over his body and face before moving to buttons, belt and zipper. I had a bit of a problem with one of his socks, but, in less than a minute, the young man was as bare as Adam.

Barer maybe, for one of the terms of the agreement was that the boy maintain his full-body waxing. Taller than any of us by a fair margin, including the runway-tall Tammy, his sculpted, ripped body was something out of a bodybuilding website - all flat planes, chiselled muscles and solid masses. He shifted his stance and I was fascinated both by the grace of his movements and by the way his skin seemed to flow smoothly over his muscles.

He looked like a statue of an ancient Greek god, towering, imposing and utterly masculine.

Utterly.

His manhood, free now, was no more than half-erect. My breath caught as it started to grow, rising, enlarging - not porn-silliness-huge, but definitely in scale with the man's size and bulk.

I've heard some women find watching a man get hard off-putting, maybe even threatening. I'm not one of those. To me, it's endlessly fascinating - and a positive reflection on me, on my own desirability. I often wonder what it must feel like for a man when it happens. Sometimes it must be inconvenient, even embarrassing, but it's always a wonder to me, a beautiful thing.

I took a swift look around, saw three pairs of wide eyes also locked onto it.

His heavy twins twisted slowly as his sac tightened; his length grew darker, rose steadily, his crown now swollen and purple, its rim stiff, almost sharp.

.

Gale

I felt an automatic response to his presence, my breath catching. My eyes darted to the others. Quinn was practically quivering and Heather's hand was still moving over his abs.

Tammy's eyes were dreamy, semi-focused and wide as saucers; her taut nipples were evident even through her bra.

Tyson looked around. His manhood swayed as his hands rose to gently caress Heather's shoulder and Quinn's head. Then Heather's hand began to sweep over his chest, up and down, gently, slowly and the boy's eyes almost crossed.

I shook myself, like a dog emerging from the water.

It was time.

I took a deep breath, reached 'waaay down inside me to find what shreds of charity I still had left and stepped back.

There's enough Tyson to go around,  I decided. I can wait.

I stretched out my hand, caught Tammy by the chin, turned her face towards me.

"How about I look after Danny and Ariel while you show Tyson around?" I said. "They know me."

I saw understanding hit her; her eyes blinked.

.

Tammy

I could hardly believe my ears. I don't think I could have been that generous. I was practically aching at the sight of him, my womanhood needy, empty. I found that I couldn't speak and merely nodded. Gale grinned and kissed my cheek, then Heather's and finally Quinn's.

"Have fun," she whispered. Tyson's six-pack tightened as she ran a soft finger down the length of his hardness, swept behind his sac, rose to gently pat the boy's cheek with her palm. She stepped away, pointedly staring at his erection, eyes sparkling over a mischievous smile.

"Don't wear this thing out."

With that she was gone.

.

Heather

As the implications of Gale's offer struck her, Tammy had gone from flushed to almost pale. Tyson had brought us all to multiple orgasms just days ago, right here, but it had been a big surprise when an innocent — OK, somewhat innocent — backyard party had turned into a five-way. It hadn't been planned or anything.

This was. Now, it was clear, we were expecting to share Tyson for our carnal satisfaction. Openly, not by chance or happy circumstance.

Starting now.

And Gale, typically, had just made it a bit easier for the rest of us.

Quinn's hand reached up, stroked Tyson's jawbone. Her expression was suddenly as soft and gentle as I'd ever seen, almost compassionate.

"You're sure you're OK with this, Ty?" she whispered.

That her hand — all our hands — were again caressing his naked form seemed both natural and, oddly... uncompetitive.

That last word came out of nowhere, started ricocheting around in my mind. I looked from Tyson, to Quinn, to Tammy. My eyes lingered on the tall girl, marveled at how optimistic, how happy she seemed now -- such a change from a few months ago. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

I took Quinn by the hand, caught her eye, gave her a slight tug.

"Quinn and I will be back in an hour," I announced. "We've got some shopping to do."

I won't say there was a scowl on the tiny blonde's face, but I could see her frustration as I dragged her outside.

"Shopping?" she demanded. 'Really?"

"Come on, Quinn. You saw the look on Tammy's face, like she'd just found a long-lost puppy. And it's her house. He'll be here when we get back. Just give her a chance."

"So, what are we supposed to be shopping for?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. Does it matter?"

She thought a moment, smiled.

"I suppose not."

+

Tammy

I found myself suddenly alone with Tyson. The basement suite echoed with silence.

I knew where this would end - wasn't that the whole point? But this seemed so... clinical? artificial? Yes, I'd been been part of the agreement and had been delighted to help undress the tall figure now standing in front of me. And I'd had no reluctance about joining the others in running my hands over that magnificent body just moments before. Still, this was so totally abnormal for a still-grieving Tammy.

The memory of how Tyson's bare skin had felt under my fingertips flittered across my mind - hard, toned muscles under soft, tanned skin.

I had a sudden vision of what Ty would look like oiled, my hands spreading that oil over his chest and abdomen and...

My eyes fell to his veined member, hard, dark, pointing expectantly towards the ceiling.

Towards me.

Almost as if watching me, almost sentient in its attention.

I found myself entranced, like a small bird facing an approaching serpent, fascinated, unable to turn away.

A wave of heat spread across my face and ears and lips, across my shoulders and back and breasts, almost incandescent. I gasped as it hit my already-taut nipples, felt them throb with a sudden need matched by the demanding, empty heaviness of my sex.

As if possessed with a mind of its own, my hand reached out towards his length. My blush turned scarlet as I managed to stop it just short.

I pulled my hand behind my back, deliberately lifted my eyes up, away from Tyson' hardness, up to his eyes, as if hoping against hope for forgiveness of some sort.