Extra-Curricular Posing

Now normally when I go for a nude modelling assignment, it's for a class at a school or a studio where a professional Artist and teacher regularly teaches a class. I seldom do an assignment for someone I don't know.

This time however, I was referred to an artist to model in their private studio. I thought nothing of it as work was work. It was just another afternoon's worth of work -- except this one was going to pay handsomely.

I arrived at their studio in a rather posh part of town, with many fancy and quite expensive houses surrounding what appeared to be their converted garage studio. It was suddenly obvious to me as to why it was paying so handsomely.

I rang the doorbell and was surprised to be met by a woman, dressed in a bath robe. I hadn't been told that I was going to be modeling with a woman, although that was not uncommon.

What was uncommon however, was that this woman was absolutely gorgeous. I normally find myself modeling when I do, with often overweight women that I have no problem with being naked with. I have no desire to have any sort of sex with them, so it's easy to keep the 'undesired' erection at bay.

Even in normal classroom situations, it's not good to get 'hot and bothered' while you're sitting there naked. It's completely against the rules to be getting excited during a session. Although I find myself beginning to get erect sometimes without any cause whatsoever, I work hard to 'think' my mind and erection into a flaccid state.

Well, I'd just have to work especially hard during this session with this most definitely sexy other model, to maintain my "professional demeanor," as it were.

She had long over the shoulders lushly voluminous auburn hair, and from what I could see of her body wrapped as it was in the terrycloth robe, she had a rather nice body. She was on the rather beautiful side as well. Her eyes when she looked at me were on the piercing brown side, and her aire was that of an aristocratic woman, not the type to usually be being a nude model.

"Hi, I'm Marisa," she said, as she held out her hand. I almost wanted to bend over it and kiss it in a gentlemanly fashion. But that was going to be too personal for a professional gig like this.

"Instead, I merely took it, shook it gently, and said, "Ben. Pleased to meet you."

I followed her inside the door and into a very lavishly appointed studio, looking around at all of the rather expensive looking lighting in the place as I walked. Between the look of Marisa and that of this place, I was a little awestruck.

"Forgive me for asking, but I wasn't told that I was going to be modeling with anyone else," I said, trying to not sound too much like I was complaining. "And not that I'm objecting, but I--"

"It's ok," she said impersonally. "As long as you're professional, I'm sure it will be just fine." Turning to me, she gave me an appraising look, and continued to walk away. "Edward will be down shortly," she told me over her shoulder without looking back.

She walked away, and I followed her. We crossed into the main studio, and I saw that there were huge canvasses against all of the walls. It was impressive how many direct pieces of work in various stages of completion there were.

Most of them were landscapes, but several of them were nudes. I tried not to stare too hard, but a couple of them were rather graphically sexual in nature. One in particular, was of two men wrestling on a carpet, with their pricks at full attention while they did. Very homoerotic work.

"Interesting work," I said quietly.

"Most of those are commissions," she said, turning towards me with a smirk on her face. "That is what you and I are here for," she added, her smirk turning into a full blown soft pout.

Oh, kay, I thought to myself. Am I going to be modeling for a piece that is going to be of an orgy? So far, I had only seen Marisa.

But as we continued on further, I could see that there were several other works of an equally graphic nature. Several were depicting threesomes, some with two men and one woman, and one with two women and a man. The one with two men seemed to be where they were entertained with the woman but their "swords were crossed." And not necessarily with her.

"Um," I started to object.

She cut me off with a tossed off, "Oh, don't worry. You'll only be modeling with me," she said as if she could read my thoughts. "That you would have been told about."

She led us to an area where there were huge white leather couches arranged in a semi-circle. She proceeded to sit on one, and waited for me to sit on another one. She crossed her legs as she turned towards me, and the side of the robe slid apart, giving me a glimpse of her darkened crotch in a peek-a-boo shot.

I looked away, and did my best to contain the rising tent of my own crotch rising rapidly in response.

She laughed quietly, and spread her legs even wider, as if encouraging me to not only look but stare. "It's ok to look," she softly whispered. "You'll be seeing a lot more shortly."

I cleared my throat, working to not sound like some teenaged boy being freaked out by a knowing sort of woman. I had seen a fair number of women's crotches before, I wanted to tell her, but that caught in my throat.

Then "Edward" came flowing in. It was obvious from the moment that I saw him, that he was flaming gay. Interesting, I thought, considering the number of work with women in them.

"So I see you've met Ben," he asked in Marisa's direction while looking in mine. "I'm so glad that Cecilia [the artist that had referred me] found me someone nice to look at while I work." He smirked, and then bent over to kiss her on the cheek without her standing up.

"Do you need any refreshment before we begin?" he asked me. "I have some wonderful champagne for later, if you like."

"Um, that's ok," I told him. I couldn't imagine drinking alcohol before modeling. It was sometimes hard enough for me to maintain certain poses stone cold sober. Edward struck me as the sort of artist who would be very "hands on" in how he posed us. I was hesitant as to how "hands on" he might get.

"So, shall we?" He grandly gestured back into the main studio, and turned without so much as waiting to see if I was coming.

Marisa stood up from the couch, and immediately began to "undrape' from her robe as she walked, following in Edwards footsteps.

I rose and asked, "Is there somewhere I should--"

She turned, draped her robe over her left arm, and laughed. "Drop it anywhere," she said, and turned to continue on into the studio proper.

My God, I thought. Her body was gorgeous. And to me, perfectly and elegantly proportioned. Her hips were just the right roundness, with two perfectly rounded ass cheeks leading down to two long slender and equally elegant legs.

Before she turned, I gaped at her two -- once again --perfectly shaped and just so b-sized breasts. That bush that I had glanced at before, was now on full display for my engorged and enraged prick to see. There was no way that I was going to tame my male member to get it to obey.

As I passed the massive paintings again, the realizations struck me that, according to the painting here, that was probably not going to be a problem.

I stripped when I got to the red velvet draped model stand, where Marisa was already draping her body over. She looked at me with that smirk once again, and asked me, "What are you waiting for?"

I took a deep breath, and began taking my clothes off was well.

Now I'm not a particularly "well-endowed" man by most standards of what maleness was supposed to be sized at. I was by no means a 'small' man. But as I pulled my boxers off finally, I sprang into full glory, getting bigger by the second as I lusted after Marisa's body which she so tastefully arranged.

"Good!" Edward said, laughing with a chuckle that only a truly effeminate gay man can someone manage. "I'm glad that I have found a man who is adequately endowed." HIs mouth went into a very 'lady-like' smirk, and giggled, "Not that I would have minded fluffing you up some if necessary."

I turned to look at Marisa, and was met by another smirk, this one a very sensually female one. Her eyes assessed me from foot to head, letting out a barely audible whimper in approval.

So, I thought. This was going to be some kind of a modeling session. One for the 'books,' and for many a satisfying future fantasy.

"Please introduce yourself carnally to Marisa, so we can begin to get started," Edward smiled.

"I'm guessing you don't want me to quiet down my--"

"Erection, my dear? Why on earth would I want you to do that?

"This commission was expressly asking me for a very, shall we say, 'intimate' portrait from my brushes. So, please get comfortable why don't you? You've obviously seen some of my other work," he said, gesturing with his hands grandly and with a flourish around us. "Make yourself nice and comfy with Marisa. Yes?"

I looked in her direction, and she smiled that smile leaning towards a smirk. She lifted her hand up, and crooked her pointer finger gesturing for me to come.

And what did I do to deserve this? I wondered. Part of me however, was also wondering what was going to be expected of me for my 'handsome' sum. Can it be this easy and with this kind of a reward? Or is there any 'hidden clauses' I somehow was not seeing?

What was the downside? I was thinking as I moved even closer to the luscious body in front of me. Could I be this lucky?

"Now," he said, turning towards the two of us. "Marisa, you know what it is that we're working towards?

"And, Benny, you happen to be clean, aren't you?"

Clean? "As in?"

"Without any diseases? Yes?"

What the hell is he asking? "Yes. But why--"

"Well, my dear. Look around you? What sort of subject matter do you see?"

"Soooo," I asked hesitantly. He's not saying what I think he's saying now. Is he?

"You didn't look that dumb to me," Marisa said. When I looked in her direction, she had a wary look. "Come. Now," she directed, patting the velvet right next to her. "I hope you can keep that up without any help," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't look like it. But..."

"Yes, dear boy. My client wants me to paint two people fucking. You are, I assume, ok with that?"

Well, perhaps I had been too dense. Yes, everything pointed to that, but how was I going to--

Opening her legs way wide, Marisa began stroking her glistening slit into an even more aroused state, and began fingerpicking her bright pink channel into an even more fluid state. Her eyes began showing just how much she was coming to a rapid conclusion, when she stopped.

"I assume you know what to do next." she said, breathily, her chest and those wonderful tits heaving.

Gulping, I closed the gap and sat down in front of her. She arranged her legs so that I could get in close enough for me to come inside of her. When I did, she grabbed me hard by my full shaft and pointed me where she wanted me.

"Now comes the hard part," she whispered. "You need to come inside of me, but you're not here to fuck me. Understand? Can you keep that stiffy erect enough to stick it in me and keep it there? And you're not going to come too quickly now, are you?"

Yes. This was the why of making this kind of money. Stay erect, for what may be several hours. Not exactly easy. Right. Not here to fuck.

And here was where Edward was going to come in to 'play.' Literally. He bent her knee so that it showed that I was entering her, and bent my leg away so that he had a clear view of his 'target.' Twisting me and turning me, I felt like he was wanting me to be putty in his hands, to fulfill his 'artistic' vision, as he pulled my prick (perhaps a little to hard) this way and that, and 're-positioned' me inside that glorious hole I wasn't really meant to plunge into.

It was all too crazy.

As I tried my best to think of the body right in front of me, and where and what my prick was sticking into, it was the opposite of what I had to do in all the other couple pairings in modeling I had done before. Here I was meant to be excited. Here I was meant to remain hard, as if I was ready to pound into her full force at any second.

Except that I couldn't. It was like I was at the entrance of a heaven that I was probably never going to get into. She would take a second every couple of minutes to stroke me back into a hard and stiff form, but it was driving me crazy.

"Am I going to be able to come inside of you at some point?" I whispered to Marisa.

"That's not what you're paid to do here," she answered me "When we're done here, you can go and whack off to your little hearts content."

Boy, that's not going to keep me here a-proinging her for very long, I thought. She was here for her glorious and tight little body -- but only as a model -- and I was here for the same reason for mine. That was the contract. Obviously nothing else mattered to her. No "happy ending" was coming my way, she was making clear to me.

Two hours later, I was feeling shattered and absolutely exhausted by this very non-sexual sex ordeal. I had been at the entrance of a gloriously sexy body's pussy now for what was feeling like purgatory at best, and hell at the worst.

"Annnnnd..." Edward said gayily, "That's all kids!"

Thank God, I thought, as Marisa reached for her robe, and quickly encased her body in it, walking away. I had been at the point of entering her wonderful (and tight) little cunt for over three hours now,. And all I could think about was, "Where's the bathroom?" I asked Edward as he was cleaning up his brushes.

He turned to me suddenly, and asked, "would you like for me to release a little bit to that pressure?" with a gleam in his eyes.

Yeah. No. "Just which direction--"

Sighing, he pointed in the direction of where Marisa had gone. Great, I thought. I'll have to wait for her to finish up cleaning up from our little 'rendezvous' before I can get in and 'relieve my 'pressure.'

About another twenty minutes later, I had relieved myself (finally -- thinking of that hot and delicious pink cunt of Marisa's) and was dressed and ready to head out.

"Benny, that was wonderful! Perhaps you'd like to--"

"No," I said, and waited to get paid. With the money he was paying me, I could find the nearest bar, find a more willing woman to fuck silly, and not have to have any more 'professional' blue balls. My wank in the bathroom did very little to relieve the tension of the last hours. I had never considered how much sex (the wasn't sex) would do to wear me out.

I hadn't seen Marisa again. And for that I was grateful. I had spent three hours sitting just inside her hole, and she hadn't even given me the courtesy of a farewell fuck.

Maybe it was just time ti find another less 'strenuous' side hustle.

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