Foolish April

And then he noticed more and more drawings and paintings of the same girl, tall and thin, her face always turned away. He turned toward April. "Is this supposed to be you?"

Her eyes went wide and she took a bigger gulp of wine, draining the glass. "No, of course not, it's just a girl."

"Then why don't you ever show her face."

"Because I suck at drawing faces. Like I said, I never finished art school. And feet, I can't draw feet."

Ryan took one last lingering look at the large canvas, so vibrant that he felt he could step through it like a window, feeling the warmth of the summer breeze as he imagined the softness of the girl's shoulder. And then he turned away from it, shaking his head as he went to look at some of her other pieces.

Nearby, he spotted a thick cardboard folder tucked under a table and went to pull it out.

"Wait, not that one!" April cried.

But it was too late. An assortment of slick, glossy pages spilled out from the folder and scattered across the floor. April hurried to pick them up as Ryan knelt to help.

"It's okay, I've got them," she said, covering them up with her hands as she tried to hide the photos.

But he'd already seen them, page after page of young, good-looking male models. Every one of them completely naked, their muscular bodies perfectly cut, every single inch on full display.

Ryan fought back a smile. "I don't even want to know what magazines you cut these out of."

April burned with embarrassment as she snatched them up as quickly as she could. "I just use them as models for my sketches, that's all."

Ryan opened the folder and sifted through dozens of half-finished charcoal sketches inside, all of them male nudes. "They're good."

"No, they're not," she said, "the proportions are all off. I tried to get them right, but it's impossible when you're working from a photo. It was a lot easier at art school. We had real nude models and the stuff I did there was way better."

"Oh yeah? Can I see those?"

She shook her head as she stuffed the last of the photos back into the folder and shoved it back under the table. "I left everything behind when I quit."

"Quit? Why did you quit?"

"It just...it just wasn't for me."

"Well, you don't have to go to art school. There are night classes at the local college."

She shook her head.

"But I saw your sketches, with just a little more practice -- "

"Please, Ryan, stop. I'm not going back to school. I don't want people staring at my art and I don't want people staring at me."

She walked toward the large canvas and lightly touched her finger to the edge as she stared at the girl on the couch. "Other than my parents, you're the only other person who has ever seen my art. And it isn't because I'm embarrassed by it, it's because I do it for me...no one else. And if some of my drawings aren't perfect that's fine, because neither am I."

"April -- "

"Thanks for the wine," she said. "It was nice. I'll call you that taxi now."

He shook his head. "No, not yet. I know how I'm going to make it up to you, make up for what happened today." And then he started to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

She took a step back. "What are you doing?!"

"I want you to be able to draw, but not from a picture in a magazine," he said, as he pulled his shirt and tie off. "I want you to be able to draw like back when you were in art school. I'll model for you."

April's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as he reached for his pants. Quickly turning her back, she said, "Stop that! You're drunk."

"I'm not. I mean...well, yeah, maybe just a little bit. But that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I want to make right what happened between us today. And if I have to get naked to do it, I will."

She cautiously glanced over her shoulder and her eyes went even wider when she realized he was naked. Quickly looking away again, she hissed, "Put your clothes back on!"

"No, not until you sketch me. Just one sketch."

"I -- I can't. I don't have the right materials."

"Are you kidding me? This place is like an art store."

She nervously licked her lips, wishing she had more wine, and glanced over her shoulder to see where he was.

He had his back to her, heading toward a couch on the far side of the room. "How about here?" he said, and as he turned back toward her she quickly looked away.

"I haven't drawn using a nude model in so long. I won't be any good."

"What does that matter? Like you said, it's just for you. How about this? Is this okay?"

April slowly turned around, afraid of what she was about to see. But she sighed in relief when she saw him lying sideways on the couch, his knee raised and tastefully blocking the view between his legs.

"Is this okay?" he repeated.

"Sure, that's fine just, please, don't move."

She went toward her easel and felt light-headed as she pulled it into position. She hoped it was from the wine but suspected it might have something to do with the gorgeous man lying naked fifteen feet in front of her.

She secured a fresh sheet of paper to the easel and picked up her box of charcoals. Sifting through the pencils, she couldn't help glancing at Ryan. His lean, well-muscled torso made it seem like he'd stepped from the pages of one of her magazines. And when he glanced up at her she quickly looked down and kept sorting through the sticks and pencils.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Putting the box aside, she said, "Just one sketch, and then you promise you'll get dressed and go home?"

He grinned. "I promise."

April licked her lips and touched the charcoal stick to the paper, tracing light circles across the page as her eyes flicked between it and the couch. This wasn't the first time she'd sketched Ryan. She'd already sketched him a dozen times in her imagination in the three weeks since he'd joined the company.

But none of them had ever looked like this. And as her hand came alive, darting back and forth, shooting dark trails and thick lines across the paper, she felt it rising inside her, the same excitement that filled her every time she created art. But this time it was even more intense, and she knew the reason why.

Ryan was sprawled across the couch, trying to keep still as he watched her. "How's it coming?"

"Good," she said, barely breaking stride as she switched sticks on the fly.

The new charcoal scratched across the page as her gaze slid across Ryan's flesh, etching it in her mind as she captured it on paper. But she winced when she reached his feet. The leg with the knee in the air was fine, but the other leg was on its side so his foot was toward her. She hated drawing feet.

"Can you move your leg?" she said. The words were barely out of her mouth when she realized her mistake.

Ryan didn't argue. He just did as asked, lowering the leg closest to her as he stretched it toward the floor. Now, he was truly naked in front of her.

April ducked behind the easel and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about what she'd just seen. She'd meant for him to move his other leg, and now she was too embarrassed to correct herself.

"Is everything okay?" Ryan asked.

"Yes," she squeaked, still hidden behind her drawing. She grabbed her eraser from her box and quickly removed the outline of his raised leg. And then she peeked out from behind the easel, holding her charcoal stick tighter than ever.

Ryan was fidgeting on the couch as he tried to stay comfortable and had unintentionally changed the position of his arms. But at this point, April didn't even know he had arms. All of her attention was on the thick length draped across his thigh.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, wondering why it suddenly seemed so hot in her studio, and accidentally smeared charcoal across her brow. But she was oblivious to it as she turned back to her page, her hand whipping back and forth again as she sketched her subject on the couch.

Her eyes flicked back and forth as Ryan kept fidgeting.

"Don't move," she said, as she switched sticks again.

Ryan tried to do as she said, sprawled on the couch, watching her as her eyes watched him, her hand seeming to move of its own volition across the page.

And then her eyes went wide. "You're moving," she said.

"I'm not. I'm perfectly still."

"No, I mean...you're moving."

He glanced down and flushed with embarrassment when he realized what she meant, quickly covering his suddenly stiffening cock with both hands. And April also looked away, obviously just as embarrassed.

"Sorry," Ryan said as he lifted his leg back up, trying to hide his obvious erection.

She didn't know what to say as she kept her eyes on her easel, the memory of what she'd seen earlier erased as an even bolder image was etched onto her imagination.

"I was just sitting here thinking 'don't get a hard-on' and I think that's what made it happen," Ryan said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension. "I always wondered how those guys could stand naked in front of all those cute college girls and not get a boner. I guess maybe I'm not cut out to be a nude model."

April still had her head hidden behind the easel, trying not to think about what she'd just seen. Trying to make conversation, she mumbled, "A girl at my school said the models are told to masturbate at least twice before coming to the classroom."

"Yeah, I can see how that would definitely help."

"Oh, umm, if you need to...you know...take care of it, there's a bathroom down the hall."

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. "What? No! I'm not going to jerk off in your house. That's way too creepy. Just give me a minute. I'm sure it'll go down."

April nodded and waited a few minutes, pretending to sort her charcoal sticks to pass the time. Finally, Ryan took a deep breath and lowered his leg. He wasn't as erect as he had been but his half-hard cock still hung heavily between his legs, though now in a different position.

April took her eraser to the page. And then she started to draw again, using long bold strokes as her eyes zeroed in on her subject. And then her eyes went wide and her hand froze on the page.

"Fuck, sorry," Ryan said, as he tried to hide his cock which was now standing straight up again.

"Why does it keep getting so stiff?" she asked.

He looked at her in surprise. "Umm, you don't really need me to explain to you how this works do you?"

She blushed with embarrassment. "No, I just meant...wait here a minute."

April left and returned a moment later with a white towel. "Maybe if you just cover it until it goes down."

She threw it at him from a few feet away, scared to come any closer, and he was barely able to keep his cock covered with one hand as he caught the towel with the other. And then he held it up and looked at the tiny washcloth she'd thrown him. "Umm, I think I'm going to need something a little bigger than this."

April turned an even deeper shade of red, mainly because she couldn't help noticing how erect he was. From barely three feet away it seemed bigger than ever, and even using both of his hands he was barely able to hide the thick length.

As she hurried back to the washroom she thought about all the photos she'd cut out of the magazines. She didn't remember any of those boys having one the size of Ryan's. A moment later she ran back with the biggest towel she could find and held it out to him.

He took it as she kept her eyes turned away and wrapped it around his waist. When he told her it was okay to turn back around she couldn't help noticing how his stiff length was still tenting the soft cotton fabric. He lay back on the couch and she returned to her easel and her eraser.

She hurried through the rest of the sketch, obviously distracted, and when she finished he stood to take a look. His feet and face were unfinished, but the lines and musculature of his body were flawless. The only real imperfection was his groin, little more than a dark smudge.

"Fuck, sorry," he said, "I'm a bad model."

"No, you were great," April said, smiling at her drawing. "It was only meant to be a rough sketch. I love it. And it was nice working with a live model again. Thank you, and don't worry about what happened today. I know Rebecca was behind it. You and I, we're good."

He smiled. "Thanks, that makes me feel better. I guess I should get dressed and get going?"

"Okay. Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"Naw, I'm good. Trust me, posing naked is incredibly sobering."

A half hour later he was gone and April was back in her studio, back in front of her drawing. She reached into her box and pulled out a new eraser, carefully erasing the dark smudge until there was only white. And then she touched her charcoal stick to the page, and sketched from memory.

* * *

The next day April was barely back at her desk when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and smiled when she saw it was Ryan.

He said, "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

He pulled up a chair, but before he could get another word out of his mouth the tell-tale click click click of Rebecca's heels came around the corner.

"Hey, hot stuff," she said, as she draped her arm around his shoulder and pressed herself against his side. "Where did you disappear to last night? You snuck out before we could get the real party started."

He twisted, trying to create a little more space between them. "I just went home. That club wasn't really my scene."

"You should have said something," she purred. "We could have gone back to my place and found out if that was a little more to your liking."

"Rebecca, please, not now," he said, as he tried to peel her arm away from his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry," she said, as if noticing April for the first time. "Am I interrupting something?"

Without waiting for either one of them to answer she twisted around and sat down, planting her ass right on Ryan's crotch as she tightened her grip around his neck.

"Rebecca! Let me go," he said, fighting to break free of her stranglehold as he tried to push her away. But she held on even tighter, her eyes flashing triumphantly as she rode him like it was the office rodeo.

"April!" she said, squealing with delight as Ryan kept struggling and unintentionally bouncing her up and down on his lap. "Are you wearing lip gloss?"

As her cheeks turned bright red, Rebecca laughed. "Uh oh, I think our little princess has got a crush on you, hot stuff. It must have been that big purple marker you gave her. Ooh, it feels like you've got another one in your pocket," she said, as she swiveled her ass against his crotch. "Maybe you want to meet me in the art storage closet and give it to me during lunch?"

He stood up and nearly dumped her on the floor. Only her death grip on his tie saved her. As he pulled her hands away and tried to loosen and straighten it, he growled, "Rebecca, how many times do I have to ask you to stop?!"

"Don't worry," she said, her eyes flashing with amusement. "April isn't going to tell on us, are you my little princess?" She touched her finger to the corner of April's mouth and flicked it, smearing her lip gloss across her cheek.

As she strutted away, her heels announcing her departure, April covered her mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry about that," Ryan said.

"Don't worry. I've worked with her a lot longer than you have. I'm used to her."

"Well, I'm not."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

He took a deep breath. "I was just wondering if...umm...if you were going to be home tonight? I've been thinking about what happened last night and the way my, you know what, screwed it up. I feel like I still owe you a sketch."

Just the mention of it sent her memory racing back to the night before. She'd kept working on the drawing for hours after he'd left, finally falling asleep in front of it on the couch at two in the morning, finally satisfied and completely spent. "No, the one from last night was perfect."

"What are you talking about? You couldn't even finish it properly because of my, uh, problem," he said, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "But you don't need to worry; I took care of it as soon as I got home last night. And I'll make sure to take care of it again before I come over tonight."

April flushed with embarrassment as an image of him "taking care of it" flashed through her imagination.

"You did say the girl in your class told you the models were supposed to masturbate twice before they posed, right?"

"Umm, I think she meant it as a joke."

Now it was Ryan's turn to blush, and April couldn't help smiling. She said, "Seeing as how you've already gone to all that trouble...you know, taking care of it...I guess the least I can do is sketch you one more time. Seven?"

Ryan, still embarrassed, nodded. "Sure. Seven it is."

Eight hours later she was in her car, ready to head home. And then she spotted Ryan walking across the parking lot and wondered if she should ask him to dinner first. No frozen dinners, a real one. She was about to open her door when she heard the telltale sound of Rebecca's heels, hurrying to catch up to him.

Neither of them had noticed April as she crouched down in her car and watched them talk, with Rebecca's hand curled around his arm and her fingers against his chest as she pressed her long, bare leg against his. She kept talking, tossing her long blond hair back as she laughed, and Ryan smiled and nodded in agreement. And then he opened the door of his car, surveying the parking lot to make sure no one was watching as Rebecca climbed into the passenger side and folded her long legs inside as he closed the door for her.

And as April watched the two of them drive away she kicked at the metal extensions that allowed her tiny legs to reach the pedals, hammering her feet against them as if she wished she could drive them right through the floor.

* * *

She scratched her fork back and forth, breaking the last few pieces of burned apple crumble from the bottom of the TV dinner tray. And as the metal tines scratched lines in the plastic she sketched lines in her head, an image of a brown-haired girl with impossibly long legs unfolding in her imagination.

A knock at the door woke April from her reverie. She glanced at the clock and realized it was seven. She pushed the dinner tray aside and headed to the door, where Ryan was waiting with another bottle of wine.

"You shouldn't have bothered," she said.

He smiled. "It's not for you, it's for me."

She shook her head. "I don't mean the wine. I mean you shouldn't have bothered coming over here tonight. I told you, we're even."

"I know, but I wanted to. I actually kind of enjoyed modeling for you last night -- artistically, I mean. It was fun being on the other side of the easel for a change, watching you, seeing the creative process. I think it might even help me become a better art director."

"Really. Wouldn't you rather model for Rebecca?"

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, turning away.

"No, wait," he said, as he stepped inside the doorway. "Why would you say that? Why would you think I'd ever want to model for Rebecca?"

"I saw you after work. I saw the two of you leaving together."

"Yeah, because she asked me for a ride to her car; she had to get her snow tires removed. Is there a problem, April?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just...I see the way she touches you all the time."

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, she's definitely touchy."

"Then why don't you say something? Why don't you tell her to stop?"

"I -- I try to, but it's just...look, I have a feeling neither of us wants to talk about Rebecca. Should I bother opening this wine? Or do you want me to go?"

April hesitated a moment, and then carefully took the bottle from his hand. "I'll get a corkscrew."