I Like to Watch

"Thanks for taking the initiative, Myrtle. I received permission for nude males starting with the couple's session on the 14th. It won't change next week, though. Will he pose with a partner?"

"I didn't ask, but I'm sure he would. We'll have to deal with his erections, even without a partner. We'll practice posing tomorrow. I'm a nurse and don't care, but if I find he can't control himself, you can cancel."

"I won't borrow worry. The male nudity and erection taboo is a load of crap, but we must make allowances for our sensitive students. Since he'll wear the pouch next week, we'll say he's covered and ignore it if he gets an erection. During the couple's sessions, I prefer the erotic charge of a hard male. It's a more honest narrative. I scheduled Michelle for the final week, and she'll find it interesting. Thank you so much for suggesting your nephew. He's not as experienced as I'd like, but we don't have a choice, do we?"

"I'm doing this for me as much as the class. I'll bring him Wednesday to make sure he shows up."

Other students were arriving, Ruth among them. She had moved a drawing bench to the opposite side of the model stand from me.

I walked over. "Hi. Let's chat outside?"

"Sure."

"Any success with your sewing?"

"I had some light blue silk among my remnants but had to make two pouches. The first was too tight, and when John tried it on, he got hard and popped out."

"Oh my, Ruth, it must have been exciting. Did you help tuck him back in?"

"No, Myrtle, I behaved. It was exciting to see him. I made the second one looser to accommodate his erection; he looks so sexy. I can't wait to see him here, but he won't have the self-control to keep from getting hard."

"I suspected as much and was discussing it with Doris when you arrived."

"My god, you're so direct. I couldn't have that conversation."

"You should know me better by now, and anyway, Doris didn't care. They'll eliminate the jock strap rule the week after next so we can have a nude male the final week. Won't that be yummy?"

"The Valley art department reluctantly marches into the 20th century, only seventy years late." We returned to our easels.

The class was better than Wednesday's. Michelle's poses were open and sensual, giving plenty of negative spaces to help define the surfaces of her body. I introduced Ruth to Doris and the three hours flew by.

Part 2. John's first practice session.

I work Monday through Friday mornings and have Friday night off. I got more sleep than usual but still awoke late Saturday. We'd scheduled practice for two o'clock, and I'd begun gathering my supplies when the telephone rang.

"Myrtle?" I heard the panic in Ruth's voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I got called in for an emergency shift. We could reschedule our practice for tomorrow, but John wants to do it today. He models on Wednesday, and he's not ready."

"Try to relax. If it's okay with you, I'll still come over and show him how to pose and explain the terms and concepts he'll need. Ernie made a sturdy, oversized milk crate table out on the patio. We'll use it for a model stand. Take a couple of cushions from the couch for padding and leave a clean sheet to drape over everything."

"Oh, Myrtle, thanks so much. John's looking forward to this and would be so disappointed. I wasn't sure you'd be okay working with him alone. You're a lifesaver."

"Make sure John stays dressed so I can take him through the process. I want nothing unfamiliar for him on Wednesday. Now, get to work. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thanks again. Promise to tell me everything, every little detail. Bye."

"I will, dear. Bye."

My mind raced while I collected my drawing things and grabbed my purse on the way out the door. Tossing everything in my VW van, I headed to North Hollywood.

Ruth and I had discussed vague ideas on how to teach the essentials of art modeling. We wanted John to be a good model for the class and to feel comfortable in his skin. The original plan was for Ruth to take charge, and I'd supplement her lead. I needed something else, and fast.

I stopped at Ruth's and felt the tingly sparks in the center of my belly and a bit lower as I walked up the walkway to the front porch. I, a 58-year-old matronly woman, felt giddy at the prospect of teaching my nude, 18-year-old nephew how to model. He would learn what I wanted from a model, and I was confident my classmates would appreciate the results.

As always, John opened the front door before I touched the handle. He took my bag of drawing things, tossed it on the couch, and hugged me.

"I'm thrilled you made it, Aunt Myrtle."

"I'm glad to help. You're doing the class a big favor, and I'm sure you'll learn fast and do a great job."

"I'm excited to model but scared, too. I want to make a good impression."

I looked around. "I assume the cushions are already on the patio. Are there any chairs out there?"

"Yeah, Mom took one of the dining room chairs and had me get a three-legged stool from Dad's old workshop."

I grabbed my sketchpad and supplies. "Let's get to work."

We walked down the short hall off the living room, turned into the den, and then out the back door onto the enclosed patio. The ceiling is the same height as in the house, but the floor is three steps down, allowing plenty of room for John to pose on the large table. A neatly folded sheet topped the stack of cushions beside the stand. The chair and stool were on the other side.

"Okay. This is how things will look when we get to the studio on Wednesday. Pillows and cushions will be tossed around, with a sheet or two covering something, but maybe not. It's usually up to the model to arrange these things, called props, to fit the sequence of poses they want to do. Sometimes Dr. Carter has specific poses in mind and sets up in advance. She'll probably give you more instruction at the start, but the more you can take charge, the better."

"Now I'm terrified. I'll have a lot of responsibility but don't know what to do."

"Don't worry. We'll get you up to speed. The first thing you do when you arrive is meet the instructor and say hello. The next thing is to go to the changing room and strip. Do you have your posing pouch?"

He pulled the small piece of blue silk out of his front pocket and held it to show me.

"Very good. A professional life drawing model carries their things in a gym bag. Your pouch is tiny, but you'll also have a robe you'll always wear except when posing on the model stand. Do you have one?"

He shook his head no. "Okay. Your mom has a few and won't mind if we borrow one. Go pick one out."

He dashed off and quickly returned, holding a short light blue kimono. "Will this do?"

"It's perfect. You'll also need a pair of flip-flops. Charcoal and pastel dust cover the studio floors. Your feet will get dirty walking around if you don't wear something."

"I have a pair for swimming."

"Good. Get the flip-flops and a small gym bag, too."

He returned holding the new items. "Good. Put your pouch, flip-flops, and robe in the bag. There are always designated spaces, sometimes only a restroom or closet, where the model goes to change and prepare. Return to your room, change into your pouch, robe, and flip-flops, and then put your street clothes in the bag. Most models bring it to the studio to put under the stand."

While he changed, I put my sketch pad and drawing tools on the coffee table next to the Adirondacks chair. I arranged my space several feet away from our makeshift model stand. I turned to see John standing in the doorway at the top of the steps.

The kimono hem landed above his knees. He shaved his legs smooth; he looked delicious.

"Put your bag under the model stand, step out of your flip flops and hop up on the stand."

"But you haven't explained how to arrange things on the stand."

"Soon, John, soon. Those details are important, and we'll get to them." I said as I sat down in my chair and opened my sketchpad atop my crossed legs.

"First, I'm going to discuss some awkward and embarrassing things. I've noticed a gentle, charming, exhibitionist streak in your behavior. It came out in your eagerness to model nude, wearing sheer underthings, and in your penchant for running around nude in your back yard, among other places, I'm sure." He lowered his gaze to the floor, and his shoulders slumped at my words.

"Don't feel bad. You've never forced yourself on anyone or been aggressive, although I suspect you hope for an accidental discovery. I feel you're comfortable with your body and have a beautiful body you should be proud of." He recovered his confidence and stood straighter.

"However, other people may not share your feelings, which could easily get you in trouble. Nude modeling would be a good outlet for your exhibitionistic desires." He'd returned to his exuberant, smiling self and didn't realize his cock pushed at the front of his robe.

"As a professional art model, your most important tool is the energy you project from the model stand. Without firm control of that, everything else is insignificant. Please remove your robe and drape it over the stacked cushions beside you."

He looked at me with the mildly panicked expression I hoped to see. I tried to return a calm, pleasant smile while I looked directly into his eyes and then nodded and looked down to the cushions.

He understood and slowly untied the bow of the kimono, opened it back off his shoulders, and leaned to drop it onto the stacked cushions. Keeping his panicked look, he stood straight and looked at me.

"Interlace your fingers and rest your hands on your head. Let your arms hang comfortably with your elbows pointed to the side." He slowly complied.

"Place your feet as wide apart as your shoulders and turn your torso and head to look at the upper corner of the doorframe." I pointed to the spot.

I sketched and talked. "A nude art model's entire purpose is to be looked at. You'll be seen in the most intimate detail. For example, I'm drawing the fold of your ear lobe where it attaches near your jawbone and, now, the little bumps on the areola surrounding your left nipple. The small vertical valley extending from the bottom edge of your belly button to where it disappears in your pouch is interesting. So is the round, curved indentation of your ass cheek. By the way, you've done an excellent job shaving your legs and body."

John turned his head to look at me. "Keep your focus on the doorframe. Remember, you're a professional. I'm verbalizing what the artists will think but won't say aloud. I may also say things to provoke you, but understand I love you and would never do or say anything to make you feel bad."

He resumed the pose. "Where were we. Oh, yes, the beautiful, smooth, hairless ass of yours. The next obvious area of interest is the blue pouch. It has a simple triangular shape and doesn't conceal much. You've modestly tucked your cock in the bottom of the pouch. From this distance, I see the clear outline of the glans. Your cock is larger when I compare your body to my earlier sketch. Also, there's a wet spot on the silk at the tip of your penis. I'll have to change my drawing."

I'd shaken John again, and he anxiously looked at me. "The model controls the studio, and what you can't control, ignore. Every artist in the studio is there to look at you. Your confidence permits them to observe every nook and cranny of your body and communicate their emotional interpretations with the world through their artistic process." He tightened the pose.

I drew in silence for a minute. "There're some exciting shadows cast by your pectoral muscle on the lower part of your ribcage. Your breathing rate has increased, and your abdominal muscles are tightening, heightening the definition of your rectus abdominus and external oblique muscles. You've tensed the gluteus maximus muscle too. Resist the temptation to panic. Your nipples are hardening, not as noticeably as a female model. Still, they're as prominent and revealing to the aware, focused, and open artist. The male model has a singular gauge of arousal, and you're fully displaying that magnificent part of your anatomy." His heart was pounding, and his jaw clenched.

"I'm trying to control myself, Aunt Myrtle, but hearing you talk makes it worse."

"I understand but keep focused and maintain the pose. Male models are expected to control their erections. In my experience, most do. It takes time to develop the skill, and all the male models I've seen were older than you. Dr. Carter is happy to have an inexperienced model in this emergency. She'll make allowances when you pose next week for the class, and we'll work on desensitizing you."

"Thanks. I want to model and thought you might have to cancel."

"Nonsense. You'll be the highlight of the summer semester. Keep your focus while I walk around the model stand to get different perspectives on the pose. The model stand at Valley is in the middle of the studio, and the artists will be all around you."

I moved in front of the stand. Constrained by the fabric of the pouch, John's erection pointed straight out from his body. The elastic band holding the pouch between his legs had pulled forward along the underside of his cock. It separated his balls which dangled on either side of the strap. I wanted to remove the pouch and take him in my mouth but would have to settle for something less.

"It's admirable you've tried to maintain modesty by tucking yourself into the pouch. Unfortunately, you're hard and can't hide it. Your mother designed the pouch for this eventuality, and I must adjust it to fit properly. Maintain the pose and your focus on the doorframe. If you'll allow me?"

He managed to nod yes.

I pulled the elastic waistband out from his stomach and reached inside to gently pull his cock up and to his left. I securely tucked his balls in place and adjusted all the elastic. I had to feel between his legs and butt crack to do it.

I stepped back to assess my efforts. "Much better. We can't hide your erection, but this should handle it. Start your session on Wednesday like this."

"Okay, I will."

"You're doing a great job maintaining your pose. Keep it up." I couldn't help smiling. "I felt your smooth pubic area. You must have carefully shaved this morning. Do you shave every day?"

"No, but I did last night and again this morning."

"You wanted to be silky smooth for today's performance, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"You're excited showing yourself to me, aren't you, John?"

"Yes."

"You were hoping your mother would see you like this too, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was."

"You hope it will be like this when you model on Wednesday?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure you won't be disappointed, John. Your mother and I look forward to seeing you and your hard cock, on the model stand in front of strangers. I'm going to walk behind you now. Keep focused."

I slowly walked around his right side. The muscle definition of his back, ass, and legs was stunning. He was clenched and trembling. I continued around his left side and returned to the front of the stand. Precum completely soaked the front of the pouch, and his cock pulsed to his elevated heartbeat.

"You're doing a wonderful job, especially since I haven't given much instruction. Judging by how hard your throbbing cock is and the fluid oozing from it, I'd say you need an orgasm to clear your head and continue. Let's take a short break so you can play with yourself, and we'll continue." I returned to my chair.

"Thanks, Aunt Myrtle." He relaxed and bent down to get off the table. "I'll be right back."

"Oh, no, John. You'll have a more satisfying experience doing it for me from the model stand. Remove the pouch. Show me."

His eyes widened. "You want to watch me play with myself? I didn't think women liked to watch."

"Different women like all sorts of different things. Right now, I'd like to see you ejaculate your sperm. I'll give you a goal." I pointed to my knee. "It's six feet from your cock to here, and the table is two feet high. Can you hit my knee with your cum?"

A mischievous grin formed across his face as he stepped out of the pouch and dropped it on the table. "What if I shoot farther? Do I get a prize?"

"I feel you're setting me up, but fair is fair. If your sperm lands beyond my knee, I'll consider an appropriate prize." I looked straight at the head of his throbbing cock. His precum oozed in a steady stream, dripping to the table below.

"I'll have to trust you'll think of something interesting. Should I start?"

"Yes. If you can manage while standing, I can watch how your ass muscles tighten. If you need to sit, go ahead." He hesitantly moved his left hand to encircle his shaft and gingerly stroked up and down a few times, the precum providing lubrication.

He increased his tempo. I looked into his eyes, but he concentrated on my breasts, sparking an idea for his prize. My nasty thought of showing John my nude breasts shot a jolt of lust straight to my nipples. I imagined he could see them through my blouse and bra.

I looked back down to his cock as he brought the back of his right hand against the base of his cock, so his balls set in the 'V' formed by his thumb and index finger, which he closed into a circle. He used his hand to gently pull his testicles down and away from his cock.

His ass, calves, and thighs clenched as he balanced. The veins on the back of his hand stood out as he squeezed the base of his cock. The skin on his penis stretched into a translucent sheen. He pulled down forcefully on his balls, and I saw the first gigantic spasm start at the root of his cock below his balls. I was disappointed when the first dollop of cum splatted on the floor halfway between us.

He pulled down harder on his balls, slightly loosened the grip on his shaft, tilted his head back, and let out a loud groan as four spurts of cum exploded from the tip of his cock in an unbroken arch. As much as I would have liked a taste, I moved my head to the side to avoid a direct hit on my face. The glob hit my right shoulder with a solid rope down to my breast and across my right leg. He had enough force on his last thrust to land a dab on my knee.

I worried he might fall, but it looked like maintaining the control he needed to keep his balance added to the release. After the last splash, he relaxed and slowly bent over to rest with his hands on his knees.

"Impressive. You've earned your prize, but not until closer to the end of our practice. Arrange the pillows into a comfortable pile and sit down for a few minutes to regain your breath, and I'll talk about modeling. If it's okay with you, stay nude. You've had enough practice arranging the pouch."

I couldn't help but notice his still hard cock while he arranged the pillows and sat down to rest. Oh, to be young again. It was exciting to watch, but I had to ignore it, or we'd never finish.

We worked steadily for a while, covering the practical aspects of modeling. I had John strike various dramatic, artistically interesting poses that were easy to hold. While he posed, I introduced the technical terms artists use to describe poses and why they're essential.

We'd been at it for over an hour, and I wanted to explain how to modify a pose if an artist or instructor asked for more negative space or contrapposto, for example. He was in a relaxed, standing position. "Excellent. Have you ever heard of negative and positive space?"

"No, I don't think so."

"They are important in general, public art but essential for life drawing. May I touch you again?"

"Go ahead, Aunt Myrtle. You don't need to ask."

"Direct touch helps clarify these difficult concepts. Positive space is the actual object an artist is drawing."

With my open palm, I reached out and traced my description with the touch of my hand. "The inside of your right leg is positive space. It extends up to your crotch, across your waist, and down the outside of your left leg. It includes everything within the outline of your body. Negative space is the area outside the edge of your body."