Artistic Impressions Pt. 01

Artistic Impressions Part 1

This story is a long read. It is divided into three parts, the second being an interlude in the sex action.

Chapter One: A Challenge

Jeff sat morosely in a pub at an office social he'd rather have avoided. The boss frequently insisted that his staff join him for after-work drinks in a local hostelry. He called it team building. Most employees were young and single, like Jeff, which made it harder to refuse.

Like them, Jeff had nowhere else to be and it didn't do any harm to ingratiate himself with his new boss in a new job. Except when Frank was being boorish.

Frank had a girlfriend, Sandra, who frequently accompanied him when socialising. She seemed like a personal accessory: strikingly beautiful, apparently subservient, and discreetly non-forthcoming about herself or her relationship with Frank.

Jeff was single, late 20s, and new to the area. He had got this job against stiff competition, in a recently new business startup. He had had to relocate to London for the job, and was staying in digs with a fussy landlady; all the more reason to stay out as frequently and as long as possible.

Frank was an overbearing proprietor, full of a sense of his own importance, and not averse to rubbing his subordinates' noses in his success. He was being particularly insufferable that evening, and other employees had made their excuses and left, leaving Jeff with nowhere particular else to go and listening to Frank's boasts about his lifestyle.

There were compensations. Sandra was something special to behold. She was a dark-haired, striking olive-skinned beauty, the sort often seen as WAGs (wives and girlfriends) on the arms of over-paid footballers. Jeff had met her a few times socially now, and he liked her a lot. For someone so beautiful, she was surprisingly shy and modest. She spoke little and never revealingly about either herself or Frank. She never initiated conversations with the staff, nor showed any particular interest in them. Jeff assumed she would probably therefore be faithful too.

Frank was addressing him. "So what do you do when you're not working, Jeff?"

The question, following fast on the heels of another of Frank's self-aggrandising comments, took Jeff by surprise. He tried to think of something impressive to say, but the truth was that he was still finding his feet after his relocation, and didn't do much of anything particularly notable at present. But there was his hobby...

"Er, I draw things, objects, buildings - anything."

That surprised Frank. He couldn't draw for toffees. He had to think of a suitable rejoinder.

"Really? I prefer to take photographs - truer to life."

That riled Jeff. His hobby helped to take his mind off the daily grind. He drew for his mind to escape from his troubles. So he couldn't let Frank belittle his pastime.

"It's a misconception to think photographs describe real life. In the hands of most people cameras can do little more than take a snapshot of a moment in time. Rarely can they tell a whole story. Whereas a picture -"

"Balls! Cameras tell it how it is. Art lies. Pictures can flatter, or imply aspects that aren't true in real life."

Jeff had to admit that was a good point, and it was close to what he had intended to say short of admitting a lie, had Frank not interrupted him.

Sandra had been observing the discussion between her partner and his newest employee with interest. She had to admit to herself that Frank often showed off in front of new people, to impress them. It often worked, but not when he had drunk too much. Then he became boorish, like now.

She liked Jeff, because he was modest, like herself, and attractive in a restrained way. He was probably a few years younger than her. She wondered whether he had a girlfriend. Meanwhile Frank was being particularly disparaging to him. She snapped out of her musings and entered the debate to defend the young man.

"But don't you think that drawings can tell a story, about internal emotions for example, that photographs usually don't convey?"

She was taking the argument to Frank.

Jeff studied her with renewed interest. Her eyes were alive, for the first time that evening, with a topic that apparently interested her. Sandra was attractive in both obvious and subtle ways. Her face looked pretty in repose, but came to life when she was interested in something. She showed a real passion for matters that interested her. Her body was something else: generous bust, slim waist, gentle curves on her hips and bottom, and long, slender legs. She looked to Jeff to be close to perfection, a concept with regard to humanity he did not believe in.

She rarely betrayed much expression when she was socialising with Frank. He tended to be overbearing in company, probably to impress through his easy domination of conversations with his subordinates, and even with suppliers and customers.

"Why don't you get us another round, honey?" Her intervention had irritated him and he was eliminating her from the field of play. Distraction was often Frank's way of extricating himself from awkward situations. Now, he was removing Sandra from the discussion after her inconvenient interjection.

She stood up with a tolerant smile. "Same again?"

Jeff nodded.

He had arrived at the pub late, usually the last to leave the offices when they were socialising. He hated leaving jobs half done when a few extra minutes of effort would bring them to a conclusion. So since the rest were usually seated when he got there, he rarely saw much more of Sandra than her upper half above the table.

As she walked away towards the bar Jeff took the opportunity to study the rest of her figure properly for the first time, from the rear. Her long legs suited her slim, hourglass shape. Her body was well-proportioned. She wore a figure-hugging dress to mid-thigh, that showed her curves yet did not look slutty. Her bottom looked decidedly shapely. Only her bust stood out as perhaps a tad too large for her frame, which might look odd or prurient in a sketch, but added to her sex appeal in real life. There was nothing sluttish about Sandra.

That was his artist's eyes, appraising a subject. Only when he had concluded that appraising study did he indulge in sensual musings about her appearance from the rear. He looked forward to being able to appraise her front when she returned with the drinks.

"...but take Sandra, for example. She's a modest woman, but her body is smokin'..."

Frank had been talking about artists as if they were passengers in any economy. What was he saying now?

"...so I bet you couldn't draw anything that makes her as attractive looking as a decent photograph."

Jeff was unsettled by that oral challenge. He sensed hidden pitfalls, however he replied.

"Er, if I was to look at her with an artist's eye, I would probably draw what those eyes and my imagination described, not what I'd get from a cursory glance or a photograph."

"Looking for some deeper inner meaning, eh? So you haven't just been fantasising over her like most men do? I see men looking at her as they pass. I like that. But she's shy and modest. She doesn't like to show off. She won't wear a bikini at the beach, you know."

Sandra tolerated his frequent, presumptuous revelations of her modesty. Her face always remained enigmatic on those occasions. Though this time she was not there to hear Frank's revelation.

Jeff was not put off by her supposed prudery. The body beautiful enclosed, or enclothed, could be more attractive for what it implied than what nudity showed.

"She's very attractive, Frank. I'm sure you're very lucky. I haven't had much experience with glamour studies. I tend mostly to draw buildings and objects."

"Aha! So you'd agree that I could probably take a better photograph of Sandra than you could draw of her?"

Jeff chuckled at such a banal question.

"Are you comparing cheese with chocolate? We would certainly produce different results. Only an objectively independent eye could decide which was better."

"That sounds like a challenge. Ah, here she comes. Maybe we should ask her."

Jeff watched Sandra approach with a tray of drinks, walking carefully so as not to spill the men's glasses brimming with beer. She returned his stare with the faintest of amused smiles.

Her appearance from the front was in fact just as fine as her rear. The shaped dress, despite its high neck, showed off the shape of her bust invitingly - inviting a red blooded male eye to undress her, to imagine her in her natural state.

"We were just saying honey, how interesting it would be to compare Jeff's drawing of you with my photograph. Which would be more accurate?"

She stood by the table holding the tray, confused at the mention of a drawing. The conversation appeared to have moved on from theory to a proposition whilst she had been at the bar. Whilst she stood motionless Jeff had an opportunity to prolong his appraisal. His artist's eye now satisfied, his crotch began to swell.

"What drawing?"

"It's hypothetical; which would be more accurate?"

"Why do a drawing of me?"

Jeff tried to close down the topic. "It was only an example. There isn't any drawing."

She looked from one to the other of the men, questioningly. She had taken a liking to Jeff from the first time he appeared at the afterwork drinks. He was the complete opposite to Frank in most respects. When she caught Jeff looking directly at her, which was rare, she felt his interest in her as a person, rather than a lascivious stare at her body. He was studying her now. His discussion with Frank was prolonging gaze. She felt it sweeping slowly up and down her body. It made her nether regions tingle and her knees tremble. She subconsciously inhaled deeply, which lifted her bust.

She laid the tray on the table self-consciously, careful to bend her knees and keep her torso upright. She chided herself. Daft woman, why do you care what he thinks you look like?

Frank would not let the matter rest. "It may be hypothetical, but I wouldn't be averse to seeing him draw you."

He turned to face Jeff. "How long would a drawing take?"

"Do you mean a sketch, or a full-scale study?"

Jeff saw out of the corner of his eye Sandra smirking. Frank was ignorant of matters artistic.

Frank read nothing untoward in Jeff's question. It seemed a perfectly reasonable ask. The fact that he saw no difference between the two approaches was an unimportant detail to him.

His answer was smart. "Well, a photograph would take only seconds, so the sketch would have to be quick, to compare."

Jeff shook his head almost imperceptibly. Sandra noticed; Frank didn't.

"I wasn't comparing the two media in terms of speed, but rather interpretation of a subject. It would need a study to bring out all the nuances in a drawing; maybe over several hours."

Frank grinned triumphantly. "Then you can't really compare them. I could take hundreds of shots in that time. Some would be bound to tell a story that outshines any picture."

Sandra had downed her double gin and tonic in a few deep gulps. For some reason her face showed irritation. She slammed down her empty glass on the table.

"Get me another, Frank."

He fended off her demand. "I need to visit the boy's room. Jeff can buy you one."

Both men stood up together, and headed off in different directions, the matter apparently resolved.

There was a queue at the bar waiting to be served. After a few minutes Jeff felt a hand on his arm. He turned. Sandra had squeezed her way between two men to stand beside him. The men assumed that she and Jeff were a couple and made room for her.

"He can be a real pig sometimes." She looked annoyed. "His photos can't compare with a real artist's eye."

"I'd hardly claim to be that. But I would certainly want to make a decent attempt at a study involving a beautiful woman."

"Are you flirting with me?"

The question embarrassed him. In his confusion he blurted out, "No, of course not. But I have to be interested in the subject I'm drawing. You're certainly easy on the eye."

"Are you interested in me?"

Her eyes flashed spiritedly. Her face wore a half smile, almost teasing.

He took a deep, relaxing breath before he answered. That question unlocked a whole catalogue of potential thoughts.

"I can't afford to show interest in you, in my situation. But you're very photogenic, a subject worthy of study."

"So would you like to draw me? Would you like to 'study' me?"

He tried to read the expression on her face, the meaning in her tone. Was she flirting with him?

"How would you feel about a man looking at you intently, taking his time to map every curve and nuance of your body?"

She bit her lip, pensively. "I don't know. I've never been subjected to such an intense stare, well, other than - you know - the usual lascivious glances I often don't catch."

"I'm not sure I do - "

The barman raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh, a large gin and tonic, please - no, that's all."

Jeff turned back to Sandra. "- but I can imagine how a study of an unadorned figure like yours could stir the imagination."

She gasped softly. "I'm not sure such an examination would leave much to the imagination, and anyway I'm not that sort of girl."

Jeff wanted to say, that's a pity, but confined himself to, "Demure girls are better subjects, though. They tend to comport themselves better."

He made sure to distance himself physically from her as they made their way back to the table. Frank was watching them intently as they approached.

"So are you two getting to know each other?"

His question held no hidden meaning. He was merely filling the void with the sound of his own voice. There was no suspicion of flirtation in his expression. Why would it? He was arrogant enough not to perceive any risk of a man stealing his woman.

Sandra answered him. "I wanted to hear more about how Jeff does his drawing. I've never been an artist's model before."

"I wasn't suggesting that you actually pose for him. The discussion was purely hypothetical."

The alcohol was blurring her judgement. She didn't want to pose for an artist, but nor did she want Frank to avoid the point of this argument.

"But modelling can be quite decorous. And anyway, you could be there as well, like a chaperone." She made the point confident that it would never be put to the test.

"Blimey, this isn't Jane Austen. Chaperones went out with the Victorians."

He turned his attention to Jeff.

"How long would it take to draw a sketch?"

"A couple of hours, or so," said Jeff.

"And how would Sandra pose for this, er - study?"

"Are we talking about an actual proposition now? If we are, it would be in a manner of your choosing. It depends on what you would want to convey by the study, and how it could be compared with a photograph."

Sandra joined in. "Speaking hypothetically, you would photograph me, then Jeff would do his drawing. The two would then be compared. But I'm not suggesting that you actually do that."

Frank mulled that over. On the one hand, he suspected that sitting in on an artist's study would be tedious. But it appealed to his vanity to get a portrait of Sandra out of it, particularly if it turned out to be something that he could show to others.

He glanced at Jeff. The guy looked harmless, no competition for a successful businessman like him. An artist's drawing would be 'artistic' and might be worth displaying. The question was, how much of herself would Frank want her to display?

"Sandra, how much of you would you be prepared to show off to Jeff, as an artist's model?"

She coloured at the question. The proposition, and the argument thus far, had been hypothetical. It hadn't touched on being undressed. She had not considered that possibility. She felt uncomfortable about men staring at exposed parts of her body normally hidden from view, even dressed in a swimsuit. But she was quite taken with Jeff. He looked as if he would be professional about it. But there was no question of baring flesh.

Perhaps there was a compromise position?

"There would be no need to show off anything, other than my profile in a dress, or a trouser suit. Maybe I'd wear a favourite outfit? What do you think, Jeff?"

Jeff hadn't been thinking of much. He had been staring at Sandra, still standing beside Frank, her body moving as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He was convinced now that despite her professed reluctance, she was showing off her body to him now, perhaps indeed flirting. Her hip movements were subtle, innocent enough but tantalising for the observer.

She would be a perfect subject for study, and a challenge indeed to bring out the subtleties.

"Well, if you were to wear a dress or an ensemble, the clothing would a key part of the study. You would probably have to adopt a standing pose to show it to its full effect. If you were dressed in, say, underwear or swimwear, you could be seated, because the shape of your body would be more obvious."

He was making up reasons on the spur of the moment. The truth was he didn't have a clue about life studies.

Frank seized on that.

"Ah, so you think you could capture more of her body, less of her outfit, in underwear; and she could do it sitting down?"

The intended clarification came out as a clumsy explanation of a point of subtlety.

"Maybe. But what's wrong with an inference? The whole point of a study is that it can convey more about the mood or context of a pose than the camera, however the model is dressed."

"What do you think Sandra?"

She was considering practicalities.

"Hm, I don't know. I'd certainly be happier sitting down than standing motionless on my feet for two hours. But you aren't seriously considering it, are you Frank?"

He laughed.

"I notice you didn't ask Jeff that question. Of course, he'd prefer to see you in your underwear. Wouldn't any man?"

The question was rhetorical. Jeff hoped he wouldn't be asked that question directly.

Sandra saved him from any awkwardness the question might provoke.

"You wouldn't want another man to see me in my underwear would you Frank?

That was true, but she had never modelled herself for him, or posed, ever. This was an opportunity not to be missed.

"Well, for the purposes of art, I'd be willing to make an exception. Artists are like doctors, aren't they? They see undressed bodies all the time, like patients. It's just an object to them.

"You could do this for me, Sandra, couldn't you? It could be something quite artistic, and beautiful."

The gin was working its magic on her mellowing mood and her thought processes. "Well, I suppose it would be an interesting experience," she conceded.

Frank had suddenly got keen on the idea because he saw it as an opportunity. He was mulling over the possibility of a prior photographic session with her in her underwear, without Jeff as a witness. Maybe this proposition had legs.

"I suppose so," she said, sighing with defeat.

~*~*~

Chapter Two: Preparing For The Sketch

A Saturday afternoon was selected for the session. It was early September, so mild enough indoors for Sandra to feel physically comfortable in her underwear.

Frank liked to go to a football match on Saturdays, but the team were playing away up North, so he decided to give it a miss.

He had a suggestion to make to Sandra over breakfast. "We've agreed on underwear, but which set? I think you need to get used to walking around in underwear beforehand, then it won't seem so intimidating when Jeff arrives. I'd like to take some practice shots as well. Can we spend an hour at lunchtime for you to try on alternatives? I can photograph you and you can decide which underwear is most suitable? Agreed?"