A Nude Day Wedding

She smiled, reached over, held my right hand, and placed it on Eric's right thigh. "May Eric touch your breast?"

I was reduced to nodding, yes.

Janet reached for Eric's hand and drew it toward me. He gently cupped the underside of my right breast. This was what heaven must be like.

"Perfect. Look like you'll kiss. Feel free to move, scratch, or stretch if you need to; otherwise, we'll break in fifty minutes."

We were inches away from each other and could safely whisper. "Are you comfortable with this?" Eric squeezed my breast.

"Completely. And you with this?" I squeezed his thigh.

We looked at each other dreamily for a few minutes. I noticed Eric's thumb and forefinger edging closer to my nipple. When he touched my areola, I closed my eyes and gasped for breath. Then I felt Eric's cock brush against my knuckles and across my wrist as he rose to attention.

We were only halfway through the pose. "Your restroom break was ineffective."

"Whenever I'm around you, a restroom break is a temporary solution to a permanent problem."

"Oh no, my eyebrow itches." I twitched my eyebrow for emphasis. "Janet said we could move to scratch, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did, but remember to return your hand to the same position." He smiled and knew I must be up to something.

I moved my hand, 'accidentally' brushing up the length of his cock to scratch my eyebrow. I hope it was the same one I'd twitched but couldn't remember. I replaced my hand, brushing down him. My hand settled higher on his thigh, 'accidentally' placing my fingertips on his balls.

"I'm so sorry. I've misplaced my hand. Rather than move it and distract the artists, I'll leave it where it is." He smiled, but his fingers moved over my breast while I scratched.

He squeezed my nipple. "I'm so sorry. My fingers must have slipped too. I found a marble on your breast."

We carried on with our unbearable teasing until Janet came up to end the pose. "Your pose is a revelation, and I wish we could explore its full implications, but sadly we must end it here. I've allowed a longer time for the restroom break, if necessary." She had a sparkle in her eyes and an understanding smile. "We'll start the last pose at ten past nine. Thank you so much. It was sublime."

I was in an erotic haze, but Eric had things under control. "Take the robe. I'll wait, but please be quick."

"Do you think they'd notice if we both go? I'll walk naked. They can't object, can they?"

"Someone would object when they found us locked in there tomorrow morning. Get going."

I looked back at Eric before pushing the door open. He sat there watching me with a raised leg, trying to block the view of his cock. I wanted to sit and play with him.

The restroom door swung closed in the hallway, and I stood by to wait. A beautiful, redheaded woman, I'd guess to be in her early thirties, emerged a minute later. "Oh. Hi, Linda. I didn't expect you right there, sorry." She reached out to put her hand on my arm. "I can't believe you've never modeled before. You're an absolute natural. I've done local fashion modeling, and Janet's always after me to try this, but I couldn't be nude in front of people if my life depended on it. I'm Trish, by the way."

"Glad to meet you, Trish, and thanks for your vote of confidence. To be honest, I wanted to hang out with Eric, and posing with him was the easiest way to make it happen. I do have to get in there, though." I pointed to the restroom. "Talk later."

I was breathing so hard when I closed the door I had to slow down and carefully check it was locked. I dropped the robe, sat on the closed toilet seat, leaned back, and reached for the Y. I closed my eyes, every nasty thought of the last ninety minutes exploded in my head, and my first touch sent me over the edge. I stifled my moans and rattled the seat with my repressed convulsions. Hopefully, no one had their ear against the door.

After catching my breath, I felt more energized than relaxed and wanted to return to the stage. My pungent aroma floated through the air. I inhaled deeply, put on the robe, reached for the door, and quickly returned to the model stand.

Eric had arranged some bolsters and sheets in the middle and sat with his legs over the stand. "You were quick. You must have had a pleasant rest in the restroom."

My cheeks flushed. I stood before him, moved my legs wider than usual, and teasingly removed the robe, holding it out to my side. "Why not find out for yourself?"

He put both feet on the floor, scooted to the edge of the stage, and bent forward until his face was an inch from my belly button. My moisture flowed down my thighs.

He breathed in deeply. "Such an intense bouquet."

I wanted to reach behind his neck and pull his face against me.

Eric looked up and smiled. "It's my turn." He stood, took hold of the robe, and rubbed against my hip as he twisted to put his arms through the robe, sending more chills through my body.

I sat down, and Janet came over. "You're doing wonderfully, honey. You've overcome your nervousness." She waved her arm the length of my body, which I took to mean being naked.

"At first, I was more nervous than I could say. Eric is such a reassuring and helpful guy. I felt safe and comfortable, and obviously," I glanced down at my nipples, "I'm having a lot of fun."

"I'm sure Eric explained you're getting extra latitude tonight. A few people left during the break because there was too much intensity, shall we say, for their comfort level. If you continue modeling, you'll find most sessions won't be like tonight; they'll be more work than fun."

"If it's work, this isn't the most difficult I've done. I once milked a trip of goats for a friend in Sebastopol who needed someone to substitute so she could take a holiday. Never again."

"I hope you'd consider modeling for us again, solo or with Eric, if you prefer. Speak of the devil." Janet looked up toward the door.

Eric approached, and I anticipated the sight beneath his robe. "Welcome back."

Janet looked up at the clock. "One more long pose left."

"Eric said you've already decided on the pose?"

"Yes. Our less adventurous colleagues have departed. Although I'd enjoy an hour-long display of wildly abandoned penetrative sexual intercourse, we must remain cautious. Eric's already preparing and will guide you into position. You'll be in a modified, much more open, sixty-nine-like position. I hope you'll take advantage; we can allow that much."

The bolsters were arranged in the middle of the stage, lengthwise parallel to the front. Eric had draped a sheet over the top of the bolsters and let it fall off the front edge of the stage. "I'll lie on my back here, with my head to the left, and you'll be on the higher bolster behind me, lying on your left side with your head to the right."

He laid down and patted the bolsters. He bent his left knee and indicated my position. "Rest your head on my leg and bend your right knee so we'll have two triangular shapes framing the composition."

I understood what Janet meant by the open position. If I flopped directly on top of Eric, we could sixty-nine each other. Janet said to take advantage. With my head resting against Eric's thigh, I threaded my left arm under his leg and brazenly placed my hand directly on his cock with his balls against my palm. It felt like balancing two eggs in my hand. Two trips to the restroom hadn't diminished his response.

"Exactly what I was looking for, Linda." Janet had a suggestion. "Now, Eric, if Linda doesn't mind, I'd like you to touch her the same way."

I looked at him and nodded yes. I had to scoot back a couple of inches to give him space, but he quickly found his target and rubbed his palm against my pussy.

"Perfect. We'll begin drawing."

Eric's cock oozed pre-cum. I barely kept control of my mouthwatering desire to do more than hold his cock.

When I first stood on the model stand, I was scared, embarrassed, and focused on Eric. Relaxed and emboldened by Janet's praise, I carefully looked out through half-closed eyes. I could see five artists and suspected at least as many more outside my field of view. Half of the artists who started the session left at the break. Those who remained were intently focused on their drawing.

I concentrated on my end of things, but Eric had beavered away at the other end of the stage. I vaguely became aware of a gentle, rhythmic pressing down there. I looked up. He raised his eyebrows and silently mouthed, 'Okay?' I smiled and imperceptibly spread my legs further. He moved his hand an inch lower and rubbed his middle finger over my clit.

Oh my, it was glorious. I closed my eyes and let myself float on an erotic river bobbing along with the rhythm of Eric's fingertips. I was glad Janet encouraged me to relieve my tension during the break.

I'd lost track of time and was surprised by Janet's hand on my shoulder. "Time's up, Linda." I opened my eyes and, looking first at Janet, then down to Eric's crotch, realized I'd drifted off somewhere, and my hand had wrapped around him. "I didn't want to startle you. Your pose is so beautiful I let it continue longer. It's ten past ten. The building is locked at ten thirty."

I shook my head, released Eric, and relaxed on my back. "Time flies when you're having fun, but it's over."

"Tonight's over, but I looked at my schedule, and we have an opening in six weeks. Are you both available?"

I sat up to answer. "You want to draw this big body again?"

"You're gorgeous, Linda, and we haven't drawn a couple in several years. You and Eric are so sweet together and obviously excited by each other. You're a pleasure to draw. May I book you for the 20th of next month?"

"I'd love to. Eric?"

"Count me in."

Janet stood back. "Great. It's on the calendar. Dress here; it's too complicated with the one robe."

Eric started collecting his clothes, but I wanted to continue being naked. The artists were still cleaning up. "Janet, may I look at the drawings?"

"Absolutely, my dear. I'm sorry I should have mentioned it before. We have time."

I should have worn the robe. I'd only been nude on the stage, and the feeling of walking in the room among clothed artists was exhilarating. The four men and six women, including Janet, who stayed for the two long poses, were packing their supplies and softly chatting. They generously showed me their drawings, and while there was a range of skill levels, the images were astonishing. Half captured the whole pose, giving Eric and me equal emphasis. Others focused on either Eric or me or sometimes a portion of a body. Janet's drawings were technically the most competent.

Trish's pastel drawing of the last pose captured what I felt. She used a charcoal pencil to establish the compositional skeleton of our pose, then used pastels for skin color and shading. Complementary colors exploded from the figures to fill the page with orgasmic abstraction.

Eric had finished dressing, folded the sheets, and returned the props, he called them, to the cabinets on the opposite wall. The artists departed individually after I spoke with them.

I dressed, and only Janet, Eric, and I remained. "Thank you so much, you two. I have a couple of calls to make before I leave. I'll see you in six weeks." She smiled and shooed us out of the room.

In the hallway, I looked at Eric. "They're respectful of my nakedness, are they always?"

"These days, yes. When I started, there was more obvious harassment of female models, which changed for the better. I've never been harassed by women artists, some subtle innuendo, but nothing like the female models got. I've had a couple of incidents with men thinking I'd be interested, so I understand the wariness. Still, in my experience, a polite 'no' has always been enough."

He pushed open the heavy glass door and held it open for me. "Shew, I'm glad it's cool outside. I didn't realize how warm I could feel in the buff."

"May I walk you to your car?"

"Oh, yeah, my car. I'm sure it's here somewhere." I saw three cars.

"Tough choice, but I'd say the green one. My car and Janet's are there. Whatever is left must be yours. Do you think I'll be able to use these high-powered, deductive reasoning skills in geology or maybe the chemistry lab?"

"Doubtful." I teased. "I don't want to get lost, though, and I think I need an escort. I meant misplaced, not lost."

We walked through the well-lit parking lot toward my Corolla. "Janet said your wife left you?"

"You get to the point quickly."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I've spent the most incredible, erotically charged couple of hours with you. We didn't technically have sex, something I'd like to correct, but I also have questions and couldn't think how to ease into them. We haven't been on a date."

"Don't worry; I appreciate your directness. Yes, my ex-wife, Alicia, left me. We were together for three years and married two. Six months after our wedding, all hell broke loose over deeply buried and long-denied allegations of childhood abuse by an uncle. It exploded during her family's Christmas party and involved several female cousins. It was complicated by the guy being dead for ten years. Keeping family secrets is a bad idea."

"Shit. Was it traumatic?" It also sets off alarms in the pit of my stomach.

"Yeah. A chaotic year of counseling; individual, couple, and group. There were incriminations, recriminations, silence, shame, and guilt. I saw the psychologist individually and was told I'd supported my wife as well as possible under the circumstances. Ultimately, my wife couldn't stand to be in the same house with a man, and six months later, I received the final decree."

"Janet fits in how?"

"I'd started modeling here before the shit hit the fan. Janet and her friends warmed to me after a few sessions. They liked how I posed, and I enjoyed their company. Private groups like this can be closely knit, but you're treated like family once accepted. Janet liked me, and we'd meet down the road at Baskin Robbins for ice cream before the session. They took an interest, and I provided updates whenever I'd model." We'd arrived at my car, and Eric leaned back against the front fender as he finished telling me the story.

"Do you have unfinished business with your ex?"

"It was tough and confusing for a while. After six months of turmoil, it was clear where things were headed. I'd done therapy with Alicia but started on my own, sometimes twice a week. We had it all worked out when the legal niceties began. We had separate professions, incomes, and no kids. The house was sold, and the assets were divided. I'd been accepted into the geology program and looked forward to a clean future."

I couldn't hold back any longer and pressed my body against him, angled my head back, and covered his lips with my mouth. He responded by wrapping his arms around me and softening his mouth to receive my tongue. My arms went everywhere, and I felt his hands slide down my sides, squeeze my breasts, grab my bottom and pull me into his body. I could feel his erect cock pushing against my stomach.

I felt light-headed, but not only from the physical excitement. Hearing Alicia's story opened the cesspool of trauma around my abuse years ago. I couldn't breathe, and I had to break the kiss. I leaned against him, trying to relax and control myself, but the lump in my throat turned into a sigh, a cough, and, finally, a sob. I could barely compose myself. "I'm sorry, Eric."

His hands slid up to squeeze my back, his cheek against my head. "No reason to be sorry, Linda. Do you want to get some coffee and talk?"

"I can't, Eric, not right now. I hope you'll understand." We had shared a more intimate two hours together than most couples do on their honeymoon. I wanted nothing more than to consummate our time together with what I was sure would be a glorious, sleepless night at one of our apartments. The past kept flickering into my present, and I couldn't banish those horrible thoughts from my mind.

"You captivated me when we first met, and my feelings have grown over the year we've worked together at university. I knew we'd have some feelings, some urges, in common, and I think the past few hours are confirmation we do. Was I wrong?"

"Oh no, not at all. I was deathly afraid before we started, but I've never been this excited. Your ex-wife's problems stirred up my past issues. I thought I'd worked through them, but obviously, not completely."

"I'm in no hurry. Let's take a few days to relax and make a real date for Friday. Could I entice you with dinner at Bosco's in Calistoga?"

Once I stopped crying and relaxed into his embrace, I felt warm and secure. "It would be wonderful. Dinner with clothes on. What a novel idea."

"Super. I'm staying at my aunt's house in Petaluma, and I honestly didn't expect this to happen. She thinks I'll be home soon, and I don't want her to worry. I'll get details tomorrow at school." He bent down for another eagerly desired kiss. "Friday's only three days away. Bye, and don't get misplaced going home."

I stood back from our embrace, and Eric started to his car. "Goodbye, Eric. See you tomorrow." He turned around smiling, waved, and nodded yes.

Our modeling experience was intense, but we didn't want to start classroom gossip and explain how we got together. We agreed to keep our personal talk for our dates. I did speak with Karen, my older sister in Petaluma. She'd moved out before my issues with mom's boyfriend and didn't share the visceral impact I had. She was happy with my new involvement and urged me to take all the time I needed to feel comfortable.

Friday evening, Eric picked me up for the drive to Bosco's. He ordered a half bottle of Stoney Hill Chardonnay with our pasta dishes. Geology, chemistry, and where we'd gone on vacations were covered in detail. I wasn't ready to mention my personal issues, and Eric didn't ask.

On the drive home over the hill, I asked, "Tuesday night, you mentioned you stay with your aunt. What's up with that?"

"My father's sister, Aunt Helen, Petie for short. Her late husband, Cliff, created the nickname from her maiden name, Peterson. He was a bootlegger during Prohibition; had a still behind the Catholic church in Sonoma. He died six years ago, and Petie lived alone in their condo in Petaluma. When my marriage crashed, and I was accepted into the geology program here, she offered me a place to stay. It's not perfect, but it works well for us."

"Sounds like it might be constricting." I thought of what it was like when I had to live with relatives.

"Not really. Petie has hundreds of stories of her life in San Francisco, Marin, and Sonoma in the 50s and 60s. Cliff was thirty-five years older, and they knew Sally Stanford, the madame mayor of Sausalito, back in the day. She and Cliff owned a few restaurants and bars back then. They were local Sonoma County celebrities. She's great company, you'll love her. If you want to meet her."

"Does she know you're a model?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely. Petie recommended me for a modeling job last year. One of her oldest and dearest friends, Phyllis, lives in Nice, Lake County, right on the lake. Her neighbors are a gay couple, Ruben and Paul, costume and makeup designers who work half the year in Hollywood and live the other half-year on Clear Lake. Petie calls them 'The Boys.' One of the women's auxiliaries to the Lions or Rotary has an annual fundraising dinner. Part of the program is a joke model's catwalk. Four older men, usually in their fifties, wear comical getups of women's underwear over long johns. They then get clownishly made up by 'The Boys.'

"It's all an old-fashioned, sexist thing. But Petie had told Phyllis I was an art model, and Phyllis thought it would be interesting to do it properly. She got me together with Ruben and Paul. We bought some sexy lingerie from Victoria's Secret and a pair of breast prostheses. On the night of the fundraiser, they beautifully made me up. I paraded and danced along the aisles of the dinner party in front of maybe seventy-five people, mostly older women.