Agnes Lets Go

Everything was changing. Agnes felt it all around her. The semester was over and so was her schooling. Bradley would soon be a lawyer, and she would be an actuary. They would move to a big city and finally get married and start their new lives together. She might even get that breast enhancement surgery that Bradley often hinted would be good for her self-image. Overall, Agnes felt that the pieces of her life had been scooped into a Yatzee cup, shaken, and were ready to be scattered on the table.

Agnes awoke with Bradley's hand on her leg, moving slowly, sensuously, past her calf, her knee, and her thigh. The apartment was hot and she sweated in her flimsy, silky nightgown. The semester had ended, her last one. She earned her Bachelors in Mathematics. At the end of the summer she would take the actuarial exam, which she expected to ace--or at least pass. Bradley finished law school and was studying for the Bar Exam. They weren't married yet and it had been weeks since he had initiated lovemaking. Bradly said nothing while his hand moved. He may have still been asleep. The last four times, Agnes had to encourage his enthusiasm. She understood that the Bar Exam put extraordinary pressure on an aspiring lawyer. He spent entire days and nights studying, reading out loud, and listening to what he had spoken into his phone. He had little time and even less enthusiasm for Agnes recently. She understood, and that's why she used her pert mouth to bring him to stiff excitement the last two times.

But today, his dick was already at attention. Morning wood. Not very romantic, but Agnes could not be picky. It took her mind off their financial situation. Soon, Bradley would be a lawyer and she would be an actuary, the best use of her mathematics degree. Then there would be no further financial worries. But today? She hadn't enough money to get Bradley's clothes from the dry cleaners or to pay for groceries.

Agnes rolled over on her back and spread her legs a little. His hand glided up to her soft, blond triangle and she moaned involuntarily. Suddenly, he stopped, and shot upright.

"I'm late! I have a review session in twenty minutes. Why didn't you wake me?" He stepped out of his shorts as he stumbled to the bathroom.

"We're out of coffee," she announced, expecting a blow up.

The splash of the shower obscured his next words. "...my dry cleaning..."

She laid out the clothes she wanted to wear, suitable for the recent hot spell, a gauzy blue blouse, a pair of short shorts, sandals, and under things. She hoped to make a lasting impression on her departing classmates, whom she might never see again. She and Bradley were planning to move to a big city to pursue their careers.

"There's the usual poker game tonight with the Math department," she called through his closed door. "It's the last one of the year, so it might last late." Agnes depended on these weekly card games to supplement their income. Her interest in probability and risk worked to her advantage at the these get-togethers and she seldom left without a substantial share of the winnings.

Agnes removed her long nightgown and sat naked on the bed waiting for Brad to exit the bathroom. A drop of perspiration ran down her chest. Her long legs crossed at the knee. They lived on the fifth floor of their apartment building where a lovely balcony could be accessed through the bedroom. She sometimes fantasized about sneaking out there completely naked, but she knew it would drive Bradley crazy and not in a good way.

Bradley finally came out of the bathroom, pulling up his trousers and with his shirt unbuttoned. He looked at her nakedness a moment, then he touched the coffee pot that percolated in their kitchenette. "Dammit! No coffee?"

Agnes stood up but now he wouldn't look at her. On days like this, she felt that no one would ever look at her. She lacked a curvy figure like her friend Ada, who was shaped like a bouncy figure eight. Agnes was long, lean, and lanky, but definitely not busty. At best, Agnes thought of her body as a figure one, or maybe eleven.

As Bradley passed her, he slapped her ass, a little too hard. "I don't know what you do around here," he said, shaking his head. "And put on some clothes. My God!"

"Can you leave me some money? I need to go shopping." And she needed a stake in the poker game.

He pointed to his law books and review material. "There's your money. I've spent the rest on new suits. I can't be dressed like a grad student in the big leagues."

Agnes checked their bank accounts on her phone. "You emptied the savings account, Brad?"

He noticed the clothes she had laid out to wear. "My God! You can't wear those shorts. You have giraffe legs. You don't need to emphasize it. Show some modesty, will you? Wear a skirt for once, Godddammit."

He scooped up his books and study material and ran from their apartment.

"Kiss?" Agnes said to the empty air. The first tear fell across her cheek.

"R U coming?"

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Ada had been texting her since ten in the morning. Agnes had texted back, "Of course!" but she didn't have the energy to leave the apartment. Each time she tried to leave, she had cried as she remembered how cold Bradley had been. She went reluctantly to her closet and pulled out skirts to replace the short shorts. The first couple she looked at came to her knees, but they were too warm for the day. She had changed clothes four times, trying to be the sensible woman Bradley expected, but that didn't work either.

She finally found a short skirt that came almost to mid-thigh. It also was made of light gossamer material and swished freely when she turned. She would have to be careful, or her classmates might see her undies. That thought stopped her tears and brought a smile to her face. She went into her drawer and dug out a small white, high-cut thong.

"This should do," she said, and went into the bathroom to shower.

She arrived at five o'clock. The attitude at the Math Department was effervescent. The semester had concluded. The grades were in, the intern jobs were completed, all papers had been submitted, and the students and grad students uttered a collective sigh of relief. As each student entered the departmental study area, they were greeted with a hug and pats on the back. There were few women and a great many nerds. One standout co-ed was her friend, Ada, a busty, wide-hipped, cherub-faced red-head. She had majored in topology, the study of stretching, tearing, crumpling, and bending. With her tiny waist, she could be an infinity symbol stood on end. She wore yoga pants and even tighter tops. When she came to the party, the male students jostled each other to hug her and bring her into to them. They patted her back, and frequently, patted her ass, which elicited artificial squeaks from her together with a broad smile.

The party stopped when Agnes arrived. She towered over all but the tallest in the group. In the skirt, her legs were long, lean, and very exposed. The skirt swayed freely as she walked. She hugged the first few guys and then Ada came up to her.

"What's this?" Ada said, looking at Agnes's unexpected outfit.

"I didn't want to be hot," she said.

"Well, damn, girl. You are...HOT!" Then Ada ripped open Agnes's blouse to the agog eyes of their classmates, then retied the ends of the blouse. She had a white bra underneath. Whether she needed it or not was an open question. The move left Agnes blushing and laughing, but she allowed her blouse to assume the new revealing shape.

"You should allow me to use my topology skills more often," Ada said.

Drinks and cake were served at the study room. A tube-shaped blaster played songs at a low level, though no one danced. They all spent the day reminiscing about their time at the university, planning the paths their lives would probably take in the near future, and exchanging addresses and emails so they could keep in touch.

A tall, thin man with brown stubble and disheveled hair poked his head into the study room. He had a streak of paint the color of a yellow pepper on his cheek. His jean shirt was tattered and unbuttoned and his jeans were paint-speckled and torn. "Hey, is this a party for anybody?" He called out to the room, but his eyes were riveted on Agnes.

"Come on in," Ada said, pulling him into the room. "We're celebrating surviving the Math curriculum. So, sure, you can celebrate with us." She put her arms around him, and her large right breast was deformed by the pressure it put on the man's side.

Agnes noticed the new man, but didn't go up to him. She'd noticed him around the university, and assumed he was a grad student. She preferred to smile at her classmates and hug the ones that had to leave the party early.

The remaining students and the interloper went to the professor's house where they weekly played poker. There were only enough players to form two tables. The night made the room dusky, the wine made the cards difficult to hold, and the bets made the players talk, kibitz, and laugh. By midnight, Agnes had won the money she needed this week, and she was ready to leave.

"No," Ada held on to her arm. "It's our last night together as a group. Don't leave yet." Agnes looked around. "I've taken more than my share of the winnings already."

The interloper, the new man with paint on his face, pulled out the insides of his pockets. "You've cleaned me out!"

"See? It's time for me to go." She leaned to kiss Ada's cheek.

"We don't have to play for money, you know," the man said with a sly smile on his face. "We don't have to play for toothpicks, or chips, or corks or bottle caps."

Ada's face was glowing with anticipation. "I know where this is going." She sashayed toward the interloper. "You aren't suggesting a game that's a little naughty, are you?"

"No, of course not. I'm suggesting strip poker."

The room groaned, whistled, and clapped. Most of the students watched for Ada's reaction. The interloper watched Agnes.

"I'm outa here," Agnes said.

"Wait. Don't go. You were the big winner tonight. I doubt that anything will change, so really you have nothing to lose. My name is Anton, by the way." His voice was low and rumbled in his broad chest. So different from Bradley's high-pitched squawks.

"Come on, Agnes. It'll be something to remember, right?" Ada sat down at the table and began to shuffle the cards. Half the players sat at the table with her, the rest preferred to watch. Anton watched the slight smile on Agnes's lips, and led her to the table, where he sat across from her and next to Ada. The people watching fired up a few last joints and passed them around. Psychedelic music played, featuring Quicksilver Messenger Service, Jefferson Airplane, and Grateful Dead playing loudly.

Agnes seldom took her eyes off her cards, except to glance at Anton and Ada. Someone guided a doobie into the corner of her mouth, and she didn't object. She chased it with her last white wine.

Within an hour, everyone had lost at least one article of clothing, except Agnes. But her luck was about to change. Ada wore only her bra and panties and was in danger of losing again when Agnes had pity on her and let her win the next hand. It cost Agnes her blouse, but everyone had seen her bra already anyway.

Anton was down to his shorts alone. She was impressed by his build--clean abs, narrow waist, strong hands. His tan thighs were long and lean, and when he bounced his foot, his calves formed perfect mounds of muscle.

Someone turned the lights lower, but Agnes knew it hid nothing. She could see everything just as clearly now as before. Somehow, the lowered light made things more acceptable.

When Ada lost her bra, the room gasped. She shook off the bra and gave her tits a fluffing bounce with her hands. She shrugged her shoulders a few times to make her breasts swing a bit. Then she returned her concentration to the game.

Agnes's next lost cost her another piece of clothing, her skirt. She was left in only her lacy bra and her white thong panties. She had had just about enough and was ready to quit when Anton lost his last article of clothing. He stood and slipped off his briefs, and unfolded his penis. It was thick and as long as any Agnes had seen personally. His balls looked heavy behind the wavering shaft. Anton sat down again, and the game proceeded.

Agnes was afraid she'd make another mistake and cost her whatever was left of her modesty. Instead, Ada lost again, and was stripped completely bare. She did a twirl for the room, her arms outstretched so that everyone would remember her. Her eyes were looking at the ceiling as she twirled.

"Well, I guess that's it," Agnes said. She wanted to stand up, but she felt just as naked as Ada.

Anton interjected. "One more hand. We've got to try to make Agnes join the rest of us, right?" The room agreed, and Agnes felt trapped.

"I'm in," Ada said.

"You've got nothing left to lose,"Agnes said.

"I'll let the winner name the forfeit. Deal me in."

"Me, too," said Anton, just as naked as Ada.

The hand went quickly. All the while, Agnes kept thinking, "God, I've got little tits. Nobody is going to be satisfied with them. Maybe I should just lose my thong next time."

But Agnes did not lose; she won. Ada and Anton had to pay the forfeit. They stood side by side, awaiting Agnes's pronouncement.

"I forgive you both," she said. The room booed.

"You won fair and square, Agnes. What is the forfeit?" Anton hugged Ada close, and his dick liked the connection.

Agnes thought about what she might like in the same situation. In fact, she almost wished she could exchange places with Ada, especially next to Anton. Her ass trembled, and she knew what to name as the forfeit.

"Alright, Anton, I want you to spank Ada. Put her across your knee and give her thirty whacks."

The room exploded with laughter and applause. The clapped rhythmically, as the two prepared for their forfeiture. Anton seated himself on one of the chairs. His penis was still a bit high. He pulled Ada across his lap. Her heavy breasts swayed below his thigh. Her ass was round, pink, and quite a handful. Ada steeled her ass in anticipation of the first blow, which Anton teased for a while.

Finally, when the first blow landed, the smack filled the room. Ada looked surprised. A second smack sounded. The group crowded more closely.

"Hey, not so hard! Ow. Ow. Not so hard!"

Anton's hand was red. He took a breather to rub his hand over her glowing rear. Then he started again.

While the room was focused on the spanking, Agnes stepped into her skirt and tied her blouse again. She wanted to hide the wetness she felt between her legs. Her breath was rapid, her mouth was dry. Her knees turned inward a bit.

Ada's face was a grimace. Small tears were sliding down her cheeks.

"Are you okay, Ada?" A student asked. "Maybe that's enough."

Anton paused. Ada caught her breath and said in a small voice. "No, It's okay. Only ten more to go."

Anton raised his hand high and let it fall. Each time, Ada squirmed and arched her back. It made the target that much more inviting. She tried to control her breathing by pushing out quick little breaths, but it didn't help.

The last three strokes caused her to cry out, but she wouldn't let Anton stop. After the last hit, she pushed herself to a standing position, and turned around, trying to look at her own butt. It was a vivid red and handprints could be discerned. She brushed her tears away and someone handed her her clothes. As she was putting them on, she said, "We'll have to do this again sometime." The group began to clap their appreciation for her courage and persistence.

Anton, still naked, walked up to Agnes. "I would like to paint you. Come to my studio tomorrow? I'll make it worth your time."

Agnes blushed, watching those hands that had so successfully caused Ada's rear end to glow and her own insides to tremble. She was reluctant to say yes. What would Bradley think?

Anton took a pen from a nearby table and wrote his number on her hand. "Please come."

The next day was Saturday. Bradley had found the phone number on her hand and demanded to know what it was. She lied that it was a job interview. He didn't like the answer and let her know it. He scrubbed the number off her hand none too gently, but she had memorized the digits.

Agnes waited until Bradley left to study before calling Anton.

"Do you still want me?"

"Of course. You can be our noon study. It'll take about two periods, if you don't mind. It's good money for doing nothing but looking beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful, you know. But I'll do it for the money."

"Come to the Art building. Our court yard opens to the sky, so bring some sun screen. You looked a little pale last night."

She dressed in the shorts that had offended Bradley the day before, but he didn't get a chance to criticize her now. She showered, shaved everywhere but her pubes, and spent a long time criticizing her body in the bathroom mirror. Her legs and neck were long, some might say elegant, but she didn't see it. She had no fat on her body, so there was no heft to her breasts. Her waist was narrow above two jutting pelvic bones. If she were honest, she'd admit that her knees were knobby.

She walked to the university and the art building, wearing sunglasses. She kept her head down and avoided eye contact. Her arms folded in front, she held each elbow in the palms of her hands. Her long blond hair draped in front of her face, hiding it. Still, she heard the catcalls and whistles as she walked. Men stopped to watch her go by. Sometimes they moaned or said, "Mmm, mm!" She didn't encourage them.

Her mind was on her hasty decision to pose. "Why?" she asked herself. "What was I thinking?" But she knew what she was thinking. She remembered Anton's physique and the masculine, thick, quavering penis below his taut abs.

She paused when she saw the enclosed courtyard. A class of about twenty-five students was in place, some standing, some sitting, all observing a beautiful dark-skinned girl with luscious waves of black hair resting on her shoulders. She stood, her weight on one leg, her hips thrust forward, the rest of her leaning back. Her breasts defied gravity, coming to sharp little points on mouthful-sized scoops. The students studied her intensely, which made Agnes nervous. But the model herself was detached, unmoved by her surroundings. Her mind was a million miles away.

Anton greeted Agnes and showed her where to change and grab a robe. She kept her head down and didn't meet his eyes. The courtyard was filled with the smells of sharpened pencils, of paint and oil and turpentine. She heard the scratch of instruments against paper, easels. The brushes whished as they applied paint. She didn't look at any of the students, though.

"You don't need me. You already have a model."

"Tara leaves at noon. Which is okay, since you present an entirely different body type for the students. Are you nervous? Of course you are, but you are completely safe here...except for the sun. It'll be directly overhead. Drink some water."

"I forgot sunscreen."

"I have extra. I'll even help you apply it, if you'll let me."

Agnes shook her head, but allowed him to take her to the undressing area. He closed the door and waited for her. She kept the door closed.

At ten minutes to noon, Anton dismissed the morning class. The noon class was arriving.

"Any trouble? Any questions?"

"I'm not sure I can do this."

Anton gently knocked. "I'm coming in, all right?" He opened the door just enough to let himself in. Agnes was naked from the waist down, but still wearing her blouse and sunglasses. Her hair fell over her eyes and cheeks.

"Let me help." He was gentle as he helped her remove her glasses and blouse. He frowned when he saw the bruise on her right arm, an imprint made by a hand holding too tightly. He used his fingertips to part her hair over her eyes, and her cheek revealed a purple bruise. Her eye was swollen shut.