Pushing Buttons, Trending Turn-Ons

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One day I came to Chris, at a time when I felt he would be most receptive and open with me, and said, "Would you ever consider modeling?"

"Modeling? I guess so. Why?"

"I was just wondering. What about nude modeling?"

"Huh?" he laughed, offering me a quizzical look.

"I mean, like for a figure drawing class or something."

He shrugged. "Sure, I suppose that would be fun." A smile began to creep onto his face. "Why, what are you about to get us into, now?"

"You remember Erika Findlay? I know she's done it from time to time. I bet she could give us some pointers and help us find a place to do it."

"Is this about going topless in the park or something?" he asked.

"I dunno, maybe," I replied, not wanting to get into it with him just yet.

When I later told Erika what I had in mind she seemed perfectly amused. We hung out at her apartment one night, offering to supply a spread of cheese and wine as a show of gratitude. We spent the evening receiving her tips and instruction, practicing poses fully clothed. She helped us understand what we were getting into and how to do it. In my mind, this constituted having modeled before, so I could stretch the truth and get a gig somewhere, perhaps with an art professor or a pay-as-you-go public drawing class.

Sure enough, we managed to get a small gig at a nearby college for an introductory drawing class. It seemed as if models were hard enough to come by such that the instructor didn't press too hard for our prior experience. The day we showed up for the nude figure modeling gig, I had serious butterflies in my stomach. I suddenly realized how big a leap I was making from simple flashes in the park, to going fully nude in front of a bunch of students. Yep, vag and all. Chris seemed to be having an easier time with the idea, but still appeared a little bewildered when we entered, finding a dozen nervous freshmen glance up at us suddenly, discovering who it was that was about to do the deed.

The teacher, Diane, welcomed us warmly and led us to a small area in the back of the studio where we could store our things.

"Oh, so you're a couple!" she said, after we gave her a more thorough introduction. "That's fun that you model together." I smiled and nodded at her. "How long did you say you've been doing this?"

"Just a handful of times," I said, lying through my teeth. I hoped that Erika had given us enough experience practicing with clothes on that we'd pull it off without any surprises or embarrassment, but I was fully aware that doing it for real, as opposed to practicing clothed, was a whole different ballgame.

"Great. They're mostly new to drawing and will need instruction, so we'll keep things at a nice, relaxed pace," she said reassuringly.

"Sounds good. We're excited!" Chris chimed in.

"Great! Okay, let me pull the screen out here. There are robes on the table for you to change into. When you're ready just come out and join us." Diane extended a Japanese folding screen covered in pink cherry blossoms to give us some privacy to undress and get into our robes, then she left and headed back across the studio.

"Okay, here we go..." I whispered to Chris, taking a deep breath.

"Don't worry," he said, comforting me, "You're gonna rock this." I grinned.

We began to slip off our clothes bit by bit. As I pulled off my bra and slipped off my panties, I looked up at Chris and found him smirking.

"Do you realize that technically we're going to be walking around naked at school?" he whispered.

I laughed. "Yeah, that's kinda exciting!" I looked down at the thin layer of pubic hair between my legs. "Should I have shaved?" I added, revealing my insecurity about showing everyone my hairy muff.

"Don't do that," said Chris, sternly eying my pubes.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't do that insecurity thing. Knowing you, you'd probably have been just as insecure had you come here cleanly shaven. This is you. This is your body. You are beautiful. So just own it."

I suddenly felt a surge of pride for my boyfriend. He was wise and clear-headed. I was proud of him. "Good boy, Chris," I thought.

I could hear the voices of the students in the distance. I assumed that a lot of the drawing 101 students would take the class just so they could see naked people and wondered if any of them had ever even seen a live naked body in front of them before. We quickly slipped on our flimsy robes, which barely offered any barrier to the outside world, and then gave each other a hard look.

"Well, let's do this," said Chris, advertising a hint of his own anxiety.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Just catch me if I faint or something," I chuckled. He squeezed my hand back and then led me around the corner of the screen. My heart thumped as I walked barefoot across the hard, cold floor of the studio. I focused grimly on what felt like layers upon layers of fine graphite and chalk dust turning the soles of my feet black. Anything to avoid focusing on the loose wiggle of my breasts under the thin fabric that offered us little security.

We arrived at a large platform on which a couple of stools had been set, as well as a smaller, lower platform; things that offered the possibility of many different poses. When I looked around, I began to panic at the sight of so many young freshmen guys and girls, several years younger than us. They were hiding behind their easels, staring at us with wide eyes, knowing that they were about to study our naked bodies. For a brief moment I regretted getting us into this situation, but the rise of fear and anticipation had some strange way of equally turning me on. I was beginning to understand that now.

I didn't have long to process what was about to happen before Diane introduced us.

"This is Ana and Chris," she said, cheerfully. "It's their first time working with us, so please make them feel welcome." The class all said hi to us in a uniform drone. I saw some of them exchange looks with each other and wondered what they were silently communicating. Diane turned to us and added, "You can disrobe when you're ready and we'll get started." She switched on some Chopin.

I turned to look at Chris for support but he was watching the freshmen girls staring back at him. All of a sudden, I saw his robe slip off his shoulders and down his body, where he caught it and pulled it aside. His pale, bare ass was suddenly staring back at me. I saw their eyes instantly lock onto his body, as if in shock. One of them turned bright red and turned to her friend, unable to hide a helpless smirk that threatened to reveal her obvious embarrassment.

All the girls took detailed note of his body, trying to maintain serious expressions. However, I knew exactly what they were doing, having done it myself long ago; taking covert peeks down at my boyfriend's long, flaccid penis with a youthful curiosity toward a man's naked body parts. I knew that they were secretly electric with the thrill of seeing his dangling balls, his long shaft, and the meaty head of his cock, but were afraid to show it.

I buzzed with excitement briefly watching them and realized that I didn't just love putting myself on display, I loved putting my boyfriend on display for these young, curious freshmen girls as well. I felt another surge of pride, seeing him standing there like Michelangelo's David, with his broad shoulders, firm abs and biceps, and slim waist, giving him that perfect, triangular frame.

He looked like a convincing copy of the original in Florence. Only with a much, much bigger cock.

Chris glanced over at me and I quickly realized that I was frozen in place, still wearing my robe. I tried to casually step to the side to prepare for the unveiling, as if I were just taking my usual time. The boys, at first curious about the girls' reaction to Chris' body, had now turned their attention entirely to me, waiting with bated breath for the first sight of my nude body.

I began to open my robe, letting it fall down over my shoulders, and just like that I exposed my breasts to them, watching their eyes as they darted straight down to my attentive nipples. I pulled the robe off the rest of the way and found myself baring my entire, naked body to them; my swelling breasts, my perky nipples stiffening with fresh arousal, the shock of my lightly hairy vulva, like some taboo thing they weren't supposed to see.

As I approached a nearby chair to place my robe upon, I could see them tracking me with their eyes, devouring my body, trembling with excitement and struggling with the threat of their own arousal. I found myself bending over a little more than was necessary to deposit my robe, letting my boobs freely swing back and forth, then settle back into place with a soft wiggle when I stood back up. I imagined them growing hard in their pants, enamored by the sight of my exposed breasts, seeing a girl's genitals up close and in person, maybe even for the first time.

What followed was the most intensely erotic experience of my life up to that point; being put on display for those students who were forced to gaze upon and study my body while hiding their secret desires. I felt myself become sexually charged and flush with excitement. My nipples were taut. My labia became swollen. I ached to touch myself, but couldn't. It was torture feeling their eyes on me as Chris and I slowly cycled through poses at Diane's direction.

The girls glanced back and forth at Chris' naked body, sizing him up, examining every inch, laying strokes across their pads, erasing them, and then peering more closely at him to observe more accurately the intimate contours of his body. I watched their movements, trying to imagine what part of his body they were focused on; his head, an arm, one of his legs.

I felt I could tell when they reached the area that caused them maximum awkwardness, struggling to control themselves while having to study his pubic area, briefly checking his eyes to see if he knew what they were looking at. I felt I could recognize the moment when they began to lay down the first strokes of his long shaft, rendering his penis in just enough detail to admire its beauty, without making it look like they spent an embarrassing amount of time on it.

When I was instructed to lay on the platform for a reclining pose, I connected with a young man toward the end of the semicircle of students. He had been gazing at me with such awe and wonder that I wondered how much work he'd actually managed to produce on his sketch pad. I laid back on the white sheet covering the base of the platform, arching one arm over my head like a goddess in repose.

I dared to part my legs slightly, further exposing my pussy to him. I watched his eyes as he stood there, transfixed, with his disbelieving eyes, drowning in the sight of my soft pink flesh blooming from within the little patch of pubic hair. Flesh that felt dilated. Flesh that felt velvety and moist with my arousal. Flesh that inexplicably ached for his curious touch, for the intimate connection of our two bodies. "Fuck," I thought. I'd taken it too far, I was already wet.

I couldn't help but imagine what he was thinking. What sort of silly, far-fetched, juvenile fantasies were spinning through his head as he watched me virtually spread my beaver. Maybe he wanted to see me masturbate. Maybe he wanted Chris to come along and fuck me right there on the platform. No, maybe he imagined that Diane would instruct him to remove his own clothes, then approach the platform in shame, as his giggling classmates observed his embarrassingly erect penis. Then he would lower down beside me where I would take him in my arms and lead him through his first joyous experience of lovemaking, terrified and excited by the idea that all the girls were watching him lose his virginity to me. "Yeah, that's what shy, horny college boys dreamed of," I told myself, with great satisfaction.

I oozed with seductive power.

Granted, I realized I was projecting my own fantasies of exhibiting sex onto him, but it made the experience no less thrilling, knowing how much I was making him suffer, whatever dirty thoughts were in his young mind. Thoughts that even the visibly apologetic girl beside him must have been aware of, as she sheepishly glanced back and forth between me and her male classmate, who was unaware of just how adorably obvious his eager stares were.

I found myself restless and cheated when it ended, wanting to pose longer, but class was almost over. I hesitated to put my robe back on, but Chris was already wearing his and I couldn't linger in my nakedness too much longer. I threw my robe on and Diane invited us to see the completed work of the students. I went straight for the young man that was enthralled with me.

"This is really good!" I exclaimed, singing praise when I saw how naturally talented he actually was. His eyes lit up. I hovered my finger over his rendering of my breasts. "It's very accurate. You have a wonderful sense of volume and weight in here." I felt an electric thrill, discussing my breasts with him. I saw how he rendered my privates, wondering how he must have felt as he carefully placed a few strokes upon the paper to indicate my swollen lips and the simple cleft separating them.

Exciting too was witnessing how the girls had rendered Chris' penis. A couple of them were surprisingly careful and deliberate, trying to accurately reproduce the precise size and shape of everything from his plump balls to his bulbous glans. Others were too embarrassed, crudely indicating the approximate length and shape without providing nearly the same level of detail they did for this torso and arms, as if he wore a hot dog between his legs.

I left there on cloud nine, confessing my excitement to Chris who shared with me his own secret thrill of being studied by the girls, and his relief at the fact that he didn't spring a boner in front of them. I obsessed about the experience all day, wondering if the boys that had watched me would go home that afternoon and race to the bathroom in their dorms, locking themselves inside to think about what they'd just seen. Would they tug their pants down in a frantic need to free their erections, then excitedly stroke themselves while thinking of me and my body? I wanted to be that naughty temptress that coaxed the insecure, budding sexuality from their shells. I wanted them to want me, to obsess about my body, to imagine what it felt like if they could have only reached out and touched it.

I was changed by the experience and there was no going back. Deep down, I knew I would spend the rest of my life trying to recreate the erotic, nervous thrill of that first class over and over in a myriad of ways. It was in that moment, on that day, that my fate was sealed.

Chris and I went back to model for Diane a few times and every session was a little different, with new poses to play with and new ways to subtly tease the students. I feared it would slowly lose its thrill, but it only got more and more exciting. I even secretly modeled nude once on my own, for a different studio, just because I wanted to feel what it would be like if all eyes were on me and me alone.

From there I branched out, wanting to find new ways to reveal my body to strangers. Modeling was fun, but I was expected to be nude. Next, I wanted the unexpected. The accidental reveal. I came up with excuses to find myself naked in changing rooms, locker rooms, showers, and the like. I flashed a man my breasts, then listened to him apologize profusely when he quickly slid the curtain back to restore my privacy.

I lounged nude near the door to the ladies locker room at the spa, nervously awaiting the moment when the next woman would enter, briefly granting a male client in the foyer a glimpse of my body. And there was her boyfriend, waving her inside, instantly caught off guard by the surprise appearance of a complete stranger standing nude by the lockers, her moist body shockingly bare and revealing her breasts and pussy.

It became a game. How far could I go? How frightening and erotic could I make it? What would happen if I booked a male masseuse, and "accidentally" lost my towel in front of him. Would he be responsible, quickly turning aside and throwing the towel back over me? Or would he be more fun, smiling slightly as I shrugged it off, agreeing to resume massaging my fully nude body, now that it became clear that I didn't feel the need to be covered?

I wanted to tell people who and what I was now, but I still didn't know how, or to whom it would be safe. It was a desperate, eager hunger to be caught, to shock, alarm, and arouse the world. One wrong move and I could easily regret it, yet still I flirted with danger. There were close calls, such as the day Melanie shared, during lunch at work, a horror story about getting a Brazilian.

She explained, "There I was, lying on the table with my legs parted, completely exposed, and this guy walks in. I kid you not, it's my fucking esthetician's adult son! I'm like, 'What the hell!' and threw my hands over my crotch. He saw eeeverything! The guy mumbles, 'Sorry!' and runs back out. His mom was like, 'Oh, I'm so sorry! He thought I was between appointments!' I was absolutely mortified!"

Of course Josh and Ethan were laughing so hard that they started crying. Melanie was a pretty girl. They were no doubt also imagining her spread eagle.

Caitlyn just shook her head in disbelief. "At least your esthetician's a female. I have a friend who lets a guy wax her cooch!" she said.

"What!" exclaimed Melanie. "Why would anybody go to a male esthetician?!"

"I dunno!" replied Caitlyn, horrified.

Josh exclaimed, "What the fuck am I working here for?! Can I go to school to learn this?" Everyone laughed.

Melanie turned to me, saying, "Yeah, I'd never be able to do that. Can you imagine?"

I sat there nervously, as everyone turned to hear my reply. The obvious reply. The one they all expected. The one that wasn't true. I really wanted to say, "Sure, I'd let a guy wax me. Maybe he's cute. Maybe he'll be real gentle. Maybe he'll apply a soothing moisturizer down there when he's done..."

But I chickened out. I lied. I told them what they wanted to hear. Or at least what Melanie and Caitlyn did.

However, my new obsession gnawed at me to the point where I began to curse the day I ever took my top off in the first place. Before that day, I felt satisfied. Chris and I would have a sleepy morning fuck to rouse ours senses and I'd go about my day cool as a cucumber, renewed, revitalized, at peace with the world. Now I needed more. It was a drug. I was an addict.

I don't know what sent me over the edge, but in another drunken moment of weakness, I finally turned to Chris and said it. "I think I'm ready," I confessed. "I'm ready to go to the whole nine years. I think I'm actually gonna do it."

"Do what?" he asked, setting down his beer.

"Be naked in front of everyone."

He laughed. "What do you mean, everyone?"

"Like everyone-everyone. Everyone I know. I don't care," I mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Will you do it with me?"

"Do what?" he asked, confused.

"I dunno... like... post something on Twitter maybe." The ideas raced through my mind. "Like, a beautifully composed photo of myself. Or us. Completely naked, for all the world to see."

Chris looked at me surprised. "You wouldn't be scared to do that?" he asked, softening his voice, suddenly conscious of the couple next to us at the bar, who began to perk up.

"I'd be scared out of my fucking mind," I laughed. "I might shit my fucking pants." Chris was confused. "But I think... I love that feeling." We both burst out laughing. I added, "I think I get as much of an erotic thrill out of being afraid to take my clothes off in front of people as I do seeing their reactions to my body. Even just the idea of doing it, the panic that it causes, is making me wet."