Self Dares Ch. 05

He motioned that I take my earphones out. I gently pushed my hood back and popped the left earbud out. "Hi," I said in my most girlie innocent shy voice. Yes yes yes, I know. Slut. Whatever.

"Why are you going to Lakedale?" he asked.

"Modelling for an art class," I said. I decided to just be honest.

A smile flickered across his face. "Nude?" he asked. Almost silently it was that hushed. I just gave a nod, playfully bit my lip and smiled at him. "Fucking hell. Any chance of a preview?" he asked a little louder.

"Leave her alone Jack," the coach said. I had to give it to him, he was on the ball (no pun intended) and he had been watching his approach.

"But... she... er..." he began.

"Leave her alone Jack," the coach said again, this time his tone carried a proper cautionary note.

"I am just being friendly," Jack argued.

"Leave her alone Jack or I will bench you," the coach said.

Jack held his hands in the air and went back to the back of the bus. I looked at the coach who mouthed, "Sorry," at me.

"No prob," I mouthed back, "Thanks."

I put my earbud back in, pulled up my hood and got back to my music. As we got closer to Lakedale I started to get nervous. I was going to be naked very shortly. With traffic and a slightly late departure time we were due to get there at around 10:30. That only left me with 30 minutes or so. My music was playing but I wasn't really listening to it any more I was playing out the next few hours in my mind. It was me, I was going to be the centre of attention. There was no Martin there to take some of the attention. Embarrassment is a lot easier to deal with when you have company. I know it is all for the art, nudity is beautiful and all that, but no matter what way you look at it, naked is embarrassing.

When we arrived someone was waiting and I was guided towards the art rooms. There wasn't an urgency in that I wasn't being rushed, but we were cutting it a little bit fine and there wasn't time for me to wander around getting lost while I looked for where I needed to be. I went into the art room and was a little surprised that most people already seemed to be there. There were nine easels arranged in a semi-circle around a small stage. Stage is generous, it was a cloth-covered box.

"Arr, Sophie?" the professor asked as he offered me his hand.

"Yes, hi," I replied as I shook his hand.

"Thank you for giving up your time," he said. I was giving my time up for $50, don't flatter yourself, but whatever. "We just need to sort the paperwork," he said.

"Yeah, no prob," I said and followed him into an office.

It was the same as the last one I did. An ID check to make sure I was over 18 and the usual relinquishing of image rights for the purposes of the course work. Artworks were not authorised for sale blah de blah boring legal shit. Signature, print, date. Sorted.

"Professor Davies said that you are okay with nude?" he asked, "Is that correct?"

"Uhm, yeah, kinda the gig," I said with a smile. I had made a promise to myself that I was doing this naked. I wasn't going to wimp out and keep clothes on. The deal was naked, so fuck it, I was getting naked.

"Okay, no obligation at all," he said, "We struggle for female models so your services are appreciated, in any capacity," he added.

"Yeah, no problem," I said, "Nude is fine," I added. Saying those words always makes my heart flutter a little bit. Nude isn't fine, nude is sooo embarrassing, but that is the buzz, that is the sly grin as you feel the tingle of excitement surge through your body. Taking all of my clothes off was the point of signing up for these.

He showed me to the changing room, which was an actual changing room with mirrors and even a shower. A far cry away from the store cupboard that my home University used. I stripped, checked myself in the mirror, put the provided dressing gown on and went into the art room. Three guys and six girls were already seated. I was beyond nervous. Fewer people seemed to make it worse. Having so many people see me the first time seemed to offer some sort of disconnect from reality. I could deal with the situation by convincing myself it wasn't happening. This was real though. This was very intimate and I think it made it worse that the majority of the room was female. Chances are a guy just wanted to see your tits, ass or pussy, girls judged. Girls saw and mentally noted the tiniest bit of sag underneath your arm or that minuscule ripple on your shoulder blade. It was also the first time I had my scars on show. The scar on my hip was still quite obvious and the one on my ankle from the compound fracture was still a visible jagged line.

"Okay, one hour. Usual rules, no cameras, no commentary," he said as he looked around. I was wondering what the required pose was. "In your own time Sophie," he added.

"What is the pose?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah sorry," the Profession said and the class giggled. "Sat on the platform, leaning backwards on your hands, legs crossed with your left or right foot positioned in front of you. There is an image on the platform," he said.

Basically boobs out, but my most intimate female modesty protected by one of my feet. I slipped the robe off without looking around the class. I think if I looked I would have lost my nerve. I placed the robe on the floor out of the way and then assumed the illustrated position. There is no dignified way of getting onto the floor when naked. Anyone looking would have got a fairly awesome view of everything God had given me, but I quickly arranged my feet so my left one was protecting my dignity and my right was assisting with my balance. "Okay," I said when I was comfortable.

"Your one hour starts now," the professor said.

For the record, a blanket-covered wooden box is not comfortable to sit on and I quickly started to go numb. My right leg died pretty quickly, but the sensation of pins and needles stopped quickly. That would be fun standing up with a dead leg. I flexed my fingers behind me to encourage circulation taking care to return my fingers to the original position each time I wiggled them. The air temperature was a few degrees cooler than I would have chosen and my nipples were reinforcing that observation. They were very erect and not purely due to the cold. Considering I was sitting on my arse doing nothing in front of nine people who would have reacted the same way to a bowl of fruit this was exciting. Really fucking exciting. My body was tingling and not all of it because it was slowly going to sleep due to discomfort.

I learned to not flex my legs as it brought back feeling and then came the pins and needles. The hour went fairly quickly though. As time was called the artists broke off into groups and chatted. I hobbled to my feet and put the robe back on. I shook life back into my limbs and shivered. It was really cold in here, colder than I realised. Each and every one of the artists thanked me and not just a "thanks," a genuine thank you. It was nice to be appreciated. Yeah, I was doing it partially as a dare, but mainly to satisfy a really weird exhibitionist kink I had.

Everyone slowly left and I had a wander around to look at the art. They were good. A pastel one was awesome. I am not sure what art style it was, it was washed out and not quite in proportion, but it looked brilliant. They were all good though.

"Thanks, Sophie," the professor said, "The second session is here again in an hour."

"Okay," I said. "I will get dressed. Is there a restaurant?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said and gave me directions. He also gave me his staff card so it wouldn't cost me anything. "We will still pay you the food subsidy, a bit of extra for you."

"Oh, cheers," I said as I took the card off him. "I will be back early to get sorted. I believe it is a clothed second session?"

"Yeah, didn't Professor Davies explain it?" he asked.

"Ish," I said, "I have a few options with me. I will see you in half an hour or so?"

"Sounds good," he said.

I got dressed and found the restaurant. I just got a sandwich, a bag of crisps and a drink. I am sure if I loaded up his card with a full meal he wouldn't have even commented, but it felt a bit cheeky. Plus I am a teenager. If I ate a full meal I would look fat. Full disclosure here. I would need to eat more than a single full meal to look fat, but teenage brains are stupid.

I headed back to the art room and had the second session explained to me in real words. Basically, sleepwear and my pose was sitting with my back against the wall, my legs crossed at the ankles and I was going to be holding a book that I was supposed to be reading. I have never seen a middle-aged guy's confidence crumble as quickly as when a barely legal teenager starts offering slinky lingerie options in a room with no witnesses. We eventually settled on my chemise and matching panties combo. The same one I wore for my Amazon delivery self-dare.

"Can I be cheeky?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," he replied.

"Can you turn the heating up a scooch?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, so sorry, was that a bit cold?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little bit," I replied.

"Sorry, you should have said," he said. I did wonder how he hadn't seen my rock-hard nipples and connected the dots that it was maybe a little bit on the cool side to not be wearing anything. Maybe he was enjoying the view, or more likely he just didn't notice that I had two tan-coloured glass cutters projecting off my chest.

The second session was a lot more natural. I was sitting wearing what were effectively pyjamas leaning against a wall while reading a book. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to actually read the book and turn pages, so I just stayed on the random page I had selected. I don't even know what book it was. By the end of the hour though I knew that page fairly intimately. I was paid. $100 by cheque and the $15 food allowance as cash. I changed back into my jeans and hoodie then went back to the bus. After a fair bit of internal mental argument, I didn't bother with panties. It was going to be a long afternoon, I had may as well amuse myself by going commando for no reason other than why the hell not. It was 2:15 and the football game hadn't even started yet. When I got back to the bus it was empty but unlocked. I got on, went back to my seat and settled in.

My phone buzzed with a message.

Unknown number -- Sophie, I have got you a place in the home team corporate box if you are interested. Just give your name. Save you sitting around for a few hours.

"Awesome," I said to myself. I have no interest in football. Well, that isn't entirely true, but my interest is purely perverted as opposed to sporting. Guys who play football are hot. Yes, that is a very broad generalisation, but generally speaking, if you removed the social constraints and offered me a footballer in pretty much any situation I would "give it up" as they say. That probably says more about me than I intended to write down on paper, but whatever, it is true. With no social consequences, I would have knelt on all fours in the aisle on the journey here and let them take it in turns in all of my entrances.

I walked across to the stadium which was a fair distance and found the corporate box entrance. A burly security guard eyed me suspiciously as I approached. "Er, Sophie Lloyd," I said, "I should be on the list?"

He smiled warmly at me and had a quick check on his tablet. "You certainly are Miss Lloyd," he said as he stood to the side, "Enjoy the game."

I was very much a fish out of water. I was in a fairly large room with a crowd of people who I shared no real interest with. They were all there for the game. Most of them paying an exorbitant fee to be there to watch their favourite sport in the history of the world. I was there because it was more interesting than sitting on a bus on my own for three hours. I would keep that fact to myself.

When the game started I took a seat that was empty and watched. I understood the rules and knew enough to work out which team was which. I figured cheering for the Away team in the Home corporate box would earn me a few disapproving glances, so I remained silent. Not that I would cheer anyway. That would have required a much higher level of self-confidence than I possessed at 18 years old.

I got chatting with a few of the girls who were there. They were in a similar position to me, although they were banging one of the players each so felt obliged to watch the game. Well, I assumed they were in monogamous relationships, I didn't feel it was appropriate to ask.

I had more food at half-time. Only a bit as I had had a sandwich earlier. Plus it was fairly poncy. It was all Jus and deconstructed this and that with course-matched wine and all that bullshit. The wine was nice. Per bottle, it was also probably worth more than me though.

I enjoyed it. Not enough to become a football fan, but yeah, it was an enjoyable afternoon. We also won, which was nice. I received another text asking if I wanted to go to the changing rooms.

Maybe it is my mind being in the gutter, but I imagined the only reason for me to go to the changing rooms was so I could become the post-game entertainment. Again, fantasy world, fuck yes. Lube me up, bend me over and make me squeal. In real life though... probably not. Short of consent being given at the start it would very much be out of my control, and I didn't like the thought of that. I would definitely masturbate to the fantasy later though.

"No thanks. I will wait on the bus." I sent back.

I did wonder if that was a little blunt, or if I was being rude not accepting the invite. I am sure in reality it would just be a party atmosphere and not a sordid fuck party. The reply of "NP" with a smilie face at least suggested at him not being offended that I had rejected his offer.

I went back to the bus, took my seat, sorted out my earphones and settled in for the wait and the journey back home. My mind was wandering and it headed straight for the gutter.

For a few moments, I did consider taking him up on the offer to go to the changing rooms. What would they do to me? I am sure it would just involve champagne and nothing more, but maybe... just maybe.

Would there be a hierarchy? Like would the team captain get "first go?" Imagine walking into the changing rooms, naked, and just seeing what happens. An over-eager hand and fingers between my legs to get me wet enough for what was about to happen, but that wouldn't be required. I would be more than wet enough just from my imagination. Multiple hands all over me, squeezing my boobs and stroking across my naked body. Would they go for my bum? Silly question, they are horny guys, of course my ass would be on the target list and not only that, I would give it to them. I would bend over like a good girl and let them have a go at pounding me to dust.

How many of them are there? 20? Few more? Would the coaching staff join in? I would be like a toy. They would effortlessly pick me up and penetrate me however they wanted. I would be passed around like the sex toy I would be like. Only this toy is a good girl, this one swallows and begs for more as you fuck it up the ass and pussy at the same time.

I lifted my leg and placed my foot on the edge of the seat. I could feel how wet I was and my lack of underwear emphasised the sensation. I wasn't at the level of turned-on where I would be visibly wetting my jeans, but I was wet. Pull my jeans off and open my legs and you would be able to see the glisten of my excitement. Although the thick heavy material of the jeans was safe from visible excitement wetness, if I had panties on, the thin cotton would be a little darker where it was hugging between my legs.

I wanted to slide my hand down the front of my jeans and finger myself. Imagine getting myself off on an unlocked bus. The only reason that I didn't was the black glass dome that was at the front of the bus. It was some sort of CCTV system and I was not sure if it was only recording when the ignition was on. I assumed it would only record when the bus was on, but I was not convinced enough to slip my hand down the front of my jeans and finger myself.

I shifted myself so I was sat sideways on the seats and crossed my legs at the ankles. It was a terrible idea, but I was so horny I needed to sit at this awkward angle to limit my access. In my mind, I was in the home team changing rooms getting covered and filled with cum at the same time. Mouth, pussy, ass, each one having a cock in it and every few minutes one of them exploding and firing cum into my throat, ass, or vagina. Surrounded by guys who were waiting their turn. As one finished and pulled out of me he was instantly replaced with another unspent member and the pounding continued. A few got overexcited fluffing themselves and I was slowly getting covered in semen as well. The creamy deposits splattered my naked body as they all took it in turns.

As a consolation prize, they could invite the home team in once my team were finished with me. Talk about sloppy seconds. 40, or even 50 loads of cum in and on me. By the time both teams were done with me the first team would probably be ready to go again. I wonder how much I could take? Would my body endure sex forever? I assume not. I guess there is a limit to what I would be able to take. It would be fun finding that limit though. That shouldn't turn me on, but fucking hell, I felt like I had peed in my jeans.

Hanna -- Hi, did it go okay?

Sophie -- Yeah, it went okay. $115. Easy money

Hanna -- Why so much?

Sophie -- Two sessions, plus they pay a $15 food subsidy, but the professor gave me a staff card so I could pocket the food money.

Hanna -- Did he 'slip' you anything other than the food card? :-P

Sophie -- Wrong... So wrong... No, he didn't.

I was fully expecting her to slip into gutter comments, but she didn't I refrained from telling her that I was on the football bus, as that would encourage her to suggest what my mind was fantasising about. I welcomed the distraction though. Jeans took a lot of excitement before things got visible from the outside, but as a horny teenager, my body can generate a lot of excitement when left alone with the sordid musing of my mind.

Hanna -- Hardly easy money. Did you get naked?

Sophie -- The first session was nude yeah, but the second one was lingerie. Chemise and Panties while reading a book.

Hanna -- Very arty.

My conversation was disturbed as the football team came back and got on the bus. They were really loud now and my confidence dissolved. The fantasy was just that. In a controlled environment, I would love to get destroyed by these testosterone-filled animals. In reality though they would rip me up. I lifted my head and smiled at them as they came on the bus. I didn't remove the earbuds, but I said, "Good job guys." That was all though, That was my total engagement with them. I got comfortable, crossed my legs and settled in for the drive home. I was so wet... So fucking wet. What a waste.

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