Cathy The Art Model

When I started modeling I was hired by a fairly noted artist. He would often tell me how fortunate I was to be working with him and how well he was regarded by the "art community." That was probably true, but he wasn't the one standing there on a low platform in the middle of his huge warehouse studio who had been talked into posing without a thing on. I hadn't ever considered myself to be an exhibitionist but nudes seemed to be what he wanted for each weekly session. I was grateful for the opportunity, so each Wednesday he had me naked to sketch and paint. I had other artists I worked with and they would e-mail me or phone and inform me what type of session they wanted to hire me. Not in his case. Judging from other renderings he had about his studio, he also worked in various forms of figure art such as portrait, fashion and costume. But there was my naked image among the other disciplines taped to the wall with my first name in the lower left corner. I tried to ignore it, but my fascial features were so well done I could easily be recognized. Our working relationship progressed to the point where at the end of one session he suggested I come and observe his effort. I started for my robe, but he told me to "forget it and come and see." When I walked behind the huge easel I saw him standing there dabbing at my image with his brush in hand and his penis exposed. A bit taken back, he saw my surprised and smiled. He then asked me what I thought, and I responded I didn't know what to say? He said "good," and get busy. Now at our Wednesday sessions when he puts the finishing touches on one of my naked portraits, the model he is depicting is on her knees sucking his cock. "You are such a good model," he says patting my head as I drink cum.