Girl in the Painting

"Why not? You're beautiful." Aaron came to stand beside her, looking at the unfinished painting. "I'm afraid it's not very good. Your skin color isn't right, and your hair ..."

It was her. The original drawing in the sketchbook was just lines on a page, but this painting gave her an eerie feeling. It's so ... real! That's me! Naked!

"With you here now, I can see where I went wrong," Aaron continued.

"I guess that's why artists need to paint their subjects from life."

"Yes." Aaron's face took on the brooding aspect she'd seen in the halls of the college.

"Can you fix it?" she asked

Aaron nodded slowly. "I think so." He paused, peering at her shyly. "It would help if you ..."

"If I posed for you?" Beth finished for him.

Aaron blushed. "Yes. But ..." His voice was apologetic. "I can't afford to pay you."

"Pay me? To pose?!" The idea of posing nude for money shocked her. "No, I'd never do that. But ... could you paint a portrait of me instead? One that I could let my grandparents see?"

"I-instead of this?"

"No—I mean instead of paying me."

Relief flooded his face. "Oh. Sure. I can do that. It might take quite a bit of time, though. Doing both of them. You're not used to posing for long periods of time."

"True. And school starts next week. Are you going to have the time to do both of them?"

"I think so. l have to produce and show four major projects this year. Your portrait would definitely be one, and this could be another."

"This one? You want to show me? Nude?"

"Yes." Aaron's face fell. "You don't want anyone else to see it?"

Beth hesitated. Her first impulse was to forbid him from showing it to anyone. What if someone recognizes me? They'd know what I looked like naked. A syrupy itch percolated deep inside her. Good girls don't pose for nude paintings of themselves. The itch persisted, urging her to pay attention. She tried to ignore it. This is crazy! I shouldn't be getting excited at the thought of someone seeing me naked!

A liquid warmth welled up, seeping into the intimate spaces between her thighs. She clenched her fists, fighting against the temptation to yield to the delicious sensations. "No, it's okay. You can show it."

Aaron's face glowed with relief. "Can we start tomorrow?" he asked. "Late morning or early afternoon? Full sunlight is better for me to paint in."

"Sure. I can come by around eleven tomorrow. And most of my classes are in the mornings, so I have afternoons free during the week."

"You'll need to decide what you want to wear for your portrait. Bring some outfits with you tomorrow."

Sunday morning, after her grandparents had left for church, Beth walked over to Aaron's carrying a small suitcase with several changes of clothing. He was waiting for her when she arrived.

"Let me see what you brought," he asked.

He studied the three outfits she'd packed into the suitcase: a white dress with large red and green florals, a red and green plaid skirt with a red sweater, and a pink, peekaboo blouse with matching slacks. Aaron pointed to the blouse and slacks. "Let me see how those look on you."

When she'd dressed this morning, Beth had put on the lightest, laciest lingerie she owned. Aaron had seen her in her underwear half a dozen times, but the camisole and bikini panties under her t-shirt and shorts were very revealing. I knew I'd have to get undressed in front of him. Why did I pick those to wear? The answer came unbidden into her mind. Because you wanted to look pretty and sexy for him.

Beth unfastened her blue denim shorts and let them fall to the floor. She saw Aaron's gaze move to her groin where her pubic hair showed dark through the sheer lace. Bad girl! You wanted him to see that! She felt her nipples hardening. He'll see those, too. A naughty thrill shivered through her as she tugged her t-shirt up over her head.

"Stop! Don't move!" Aaron cried.

Her t-shirt was covering her eyes. Beth froze, her arms above her head She sensed Aaron moving for his sketchbook, then sitting in front of her. She felt a coolness on her skin as if her camisole had ridden up with the t-shirt, leaving her breasts bare. The thought that she was practically naked to his gaze sent a shiver of delight through her, and she clenched her thighs to contain the sudden surge of warmth.

The muscles in her shoulders were just beginning to ache when he told her she could move.

"Can I see?" she asked, pulling off the t-shirt. As she had feared, the camisole came with it. She was naked to the waist.

He had drawn just her torso. Her raised arms had lifted her breasts, making them appear larger and fuller, her nipples erect amid the dark, puckered ovals of her areolae. She looked down at herself, then again at the drawing. She'd always seen her breasts as being too small, but on the page they looked just right.

She picked up her blouse and slipped it on, feeling the silken material rub over her already stimulated nipples. Beth knew the thin material wouldn't hide their outline. "You can't let my nipples show," she cautioned. "My grandparents would be horrified."

Aaron nodded seriously. "I'll do my best."

He indicated a platform just to the left of his easel, where he'd placed a chair turned partway to the windows. "Can you put your slacks on and sit there, please?"

Aaron placed her in a simple pose, hands folded on her lap. He moved back to his easel and started working.

Sitting absolutely still was much harder than Beth had imagined. The nearby easel with her nude portrait caught her eye, and she focused her attention on it.

The girl in the painting had a beautiful bottom and strong shapely legs. Her waist was narrow and trim, but her back was perhaps a little thin—her ribs, spine, and shoulder blades were quite noticeable. If I concentrated more on using my arms and shoulders when I swim, I could get my top half to look more like my bottom half.

The girl seemed comfortable being nude; her shoulders were relaxed, and her arms made no effort to conceal her body. Beth recalled the evening Aaron had drawn her—the fourth time she had showered and dressed while he sat and sketched. I was comfortable. I enjoyed the feeling of his eyes on my naked body. It made me feel desirable and sexy and daring. I remember half hoping he'd ask me to turn around, so I would have to show him the rest of me.

It was almost forty minutes later when Aaron called a break. "Get up and stretch your muscles," he told her. "I can finish what I'm doing without you."

Beth wandered around the studio, looking at the canvases Aaron had painted. She saw his face on a canvas poking up from a stack of paintings in the corner between the windows. She walked over and moved aside the canvases in front of it, and gasped in surprise. It was a full-length portrait of Aaron, nude. "I'm sorry!" she blurted, hastily moving the canvases back to cover it. "I didn't mean to ..."

"Sorry?" Aaron responded. "Why? It's just a painting. Haven't you seen a naked boy before?"

"It's not that," Beth protested, dodging his question. "I just ... I didn't want to invade your privacy."

"Privacy?" Aaron laughed. "You've never complained about me invading yours. I've drawn almost every part of you. It's only fair if you see me without my clothes on. Go ahead and look."

Beth took the painting out again and studied it. "Did you do this from a photograph?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I set up a camera to take pictures while I stood in front of it. It took quite a few tries before I got it right."

He was thin and under-developed, and his skin was pale, with no body hair that Beth could see, except for a few curls on the lowest point of his abdomen. His penis was soft and small—very much like those Beth had seen on Renaissance paintings of cherubs or fauns. His face had that brooding expression that made him look so fierce.

"Sometime, you should let me take a better picture of you," Beth commented. "You're quite handsome when you smile."

"You'd do that?" Aaron asked in surprise. "Take a picture of me? Naked?"

"You naked? Or me naked?" Beth teased.

Aaron chuckled. "I meant me. But if you want to be naked, too..."

Beth blushed. "If I do that—get naked and photograph you—you have to be naked while you paint me."

Aaron gazed at her seriously for a long moment. "Alright. It's a deal."

He walked over to his sleeping area, opened his wardrobe and took out a camera. After quickly checking it, he put it down and began to undress.

Beth's heart fluttered and pounded; she'd never seen a naked boy before. She knew what naked men looked like from Renaissance paintings and statues, and her grandmother's paperbacks had some very graphic descriptions of male anatomy, but watching Aaron undress and reveal his boy parts was both unsettling and exciting.

Aaron picked up the camera and walked back into the studio.

There was no way out of it—she'd made a deal. The girl in the painting is you! She's naked and she's beautiful, and so are you. Besides, you like him looking at you. Beth slipped off her blouse and pushed down her slacks and panties. They stood looking at one another.

Beth watched in amazement as Aaron's cute, little penis began to grow and swell. She'd seen boys with erections inside their pants, and overheard locker-room tales about what girls had done with their boyfriends, so she was aware what happened to boys' penises when they got excited. But Aaron's reaction to the sight of her naked body came as a pleasant surprise. He finds me sexy!

She took the camera from his hand, raised the viewfinder to her eye, and pressed the shutter release. Aaron looked startled but he didn't protest. Beth took several more shots to make sure she got the image.

"I should do a photo essay," she teased. "Aaron and His Erection."

Aaron's face flushed pink. He grinned. "If you want to do that you'll need some close-ups of both of us," he said, pointing to his erect member.

Beth quickly moved forward to get shots of his smiling face, then knelt to capture his penis, standing tall and stiff against his flat belly. "It's quite impressive close up," she commented.

Aaron's blush grew deeper. "You've seen a lot of erect penises, then?'

"Oh, sure. Dozens." It was Beth's turn to blush. "But they were all Renaissance paintings and statues. You're my first live boy."

They teased and bantered back and forth, and after a few minutes Aaron's erection subsided, although not quite to its original small size. Now that he was relaxed and smiling, Beth stepped back to get a full length shot of him. After shooting several more frames, she handed the camera back to him.

"I hope there's at least one shot you can use," she said. "Where do you get them developed?"

"I use the dark room at the college," he replied. "All Fine Arts students can use it if they can demonstrate they know how." He raised the camera. "I should take some pictures of you, too."

"What?! No!" Beth reflexively covered her breasts and groin with her hands.

"Why not? You and I are the only ones who will ever see them. If I have photos of you, I won't need you to pose as often."

"But I like posing for you!" The admission shot out before she could stop it. She dropped her arms. "I like you looking at me. It makes me feel beautiful and sexy."

"You are beautiful!" Aaron affirmed emphatically. "And sexy. You're the most attractive model I've ever had. I love drawing you. I'd love to have you pose for me for hours and hours. I could never get tired of looking at you, of finding new ways to paint you."

I am the girl in the painting. Beth thought for a long moment. "You'll still want me to pose for you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Alright."

Aaron walked past her toward the large windows. Beth turned to face him. Over his shoulder she saw an elderly woman in the garden outside, puttering among the flowers.

"Is that your grandmother? Can she see us?"

Aaron turned to look. "Yes it is. Don't worry. When the sun is shining on the window like this, it reflects so much light you can't see inside."

For the next ten minutes Aaron walked around her taking pictures, getting close-ups of her face, her breasts, her bottom, her groin, then some half-length and full length shots in various poses.

"Will you sit and let me take close-ups between your legs?" he asked shyly. "And draw you?"

He'll see how wet I am down there! Beth was very aroused, more so than she'd ever been with her grandmother's paperbacks. What Aaron was asking was very intimate. What her body was urging her to do was shockingly intimate, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to resist much longer.

The girl in the painting—she'd do that. She'd let him. She'd open her legs and show him her beautiful, intimate parts. And I am her—the girl in the painting. And I do want him to see all of me.

Beth moved to the platform and sat in the chair, parting her legs so Aaron could see between. He knelt in front of her, his sketchbook on the floor next to him, his camera to his eye. Beth kept her eyes on the painting.

Her hands moved between her thighs and opened her labia. Grandma's heroines never did this. Aaron's camera clicked several times. She let her index finger slide between the folds, seeking out the spot that was crying out to be touched. A jolt of intense pleasure made her cry out in joy. No longer able or willing to resist, she gave herself up to the urges she'd been trying to ignore; stroking and rubbing, touching and caressing—holding herself open, showing Aaron all her secret places—dipping her fingers inside, lubricating them, playing them over all her surfaces; then, finally, moving up to her pleasure button.

Sounds escaped from her throat—gasps and moans and cries. She glanced at Aaron, now seated on the floor, sketchbook in hand, eyes flicking from her to the page and back. She sank down in the chair, splaying her legs over the armrests, both her orifices exposed to his view. She wasn't thinking any more, just feeling, doing whatever felt good, the escalating urgency of her desire her only concern. Her right hand fingers were slick with her juices; she pushed them deep into herself—two in each orifice—while her left hand attended to her pleasure.

If she were on her own, reading one of her grandmother's erotic romances, she would have climaxed long ago. Nothing intense—just a nice little buzz. But now she was far beyond anything she'd previously experienced, and getting more and more frantic. She wanted to come; she needed to release the pressure deep inside her. Both her hands were moving as fast as she could make them—her right pistoning inside her, her left thrumming violently against her puss.

And then it came. She screamed—torn by the most agonizing, unbearable pleasure she'd ever felt. It pounded and ripped at her, wave after unrelenting wave, her uterus and vagina contracting and clenching in spasm after cascading spasm. Time stretched on forever. Slowly, slowly the ecstasy ebbed and faded, subsiding at last to a pleasant hum.

Beth opened her eyes, wondered at the unfamiliar ceiling. After a few seconds of confusion she sat upright, staring at Aaron seated on the floor in front of her, his graphite pencil scratching over the page.

"I didn't know girls did that."

Beth looked blankly at Aaron. Didn't know girls did what? What's he talking about? "What?"

"I didn't know girls masturbated," Aaron elaborated.

Oh! "Oh. Yes. We do. Not all girls" Not good girls. "But most of us, I think. At one time or another. My grandmother does. While she reads those steamy paperback romances. She lets me borrow them."

"Bodice busters." Aaron nodded, a gentle smile on his face. He got up from the floor. "You were pretty noisy—it must have been a good one."

Beth blushed. "I think it was more than one. I've never had one that big before." She held out her hand for his sketchbook. "Can I see? I've never seen what I look like down there."

There were pages of drawings and sketches. How long was I ... Some were just composites of lines and shadows—her hands playing between her legs, the tension in her body, the joy and agony on her face—but several were detailed. One in particular held her attention. It showed her thighs and bottom, her vagina and anus both open. Her inner labia were prominent, long and full, their edges slightly scalloped, the right longer than the left. At the top, between her outer lips, her swollen clitoris pushed out of its shallow hood. One hand rested on her thigh, the fingers wet and shiny from her lubricating fluids. He must have drawn that after I orgasmed.

Beth looked up at him. "You're going to paint this." It wasn't a question.

Aaron simply nodded. "How could I not. You are so beautiful!"

Beth nodded in assent. "Will you need me to ... pose ... like that again?"

"Yes, please." Aaron's penis stiffened and sprung against his belly.

I wonder if he'd let me watch him?