I walked across the campus slowly, enjoying the crisp tang of the air. The leaves had fallen earlier that week and they covered the dying grass with glorious red and gold hues; the occasional still- green leaf and curled brown one peeked up from the drifts, making me think of Chance Riley, the artist I had been posing for, and his love of color.
The very thought of him made me shiver with delight. Several weeks earlier I had answered an ad for an artist’s model. I had been in desperate need of a job, I had a scholarship but it didn’t allow me to have anything extra. I had been incredibly nervous the first time I had stepped into the large loft where Chance lived and worked but I had forgotten to be nervous when he stepped out from behind a canvas. He had broad shoulders, a muscular chest and a flat belly that tapered down to a narrow waist and lean hips, a firm ass, lean flat thighs and well developed calves. His black hair fell over his high forehead and his piercing blue eyes made me feel weak in the knees.
“I’m Kelly,” I stuttered out. “I am here about the job; you put an ad in the paper.” I realized I was babbling and fell silent.
“So you’re the model huh?” He had asked, “Take all of your clothes off and stand on that little platform.”
“But, it’s right next to the window! Anyone could see me!” I had protested.
“Then get out,” Chance said. “I need the light and if you are too shy to truly allow me to paint you get out of here, I have other applicants.”
That casual cruelty had struck me hard, but it excited me as well. I posed for him that day and then I went home to my small dorm room, locked the door to keep my roommate out, and masturbated furiously and repeatedly. I had imagined Chance between my thighs, licking at the tender flesh of my labia, sliding one of his long and elegant fingers into my heated depths and finally, his dick thrusting into me hard and fast.
Cutting across a concrete quad I waved at a few acquaintances and then groaned as Ned waved at me and trotted to catch up.
“Hey Kelly,” he said, “Where have you been?”
I felt a pang of guilt; I had been dating Ned in a casual way most of the year and knew I should feel something for him but his typical surfer boy looks and laid back attitude had never excited me. He was the kind of guy who liked to watch football games and hang out in sports bars and the sex between us was as bland and neutral as the décor of the places that we hung out in. I had been bored with the relationship almost from its outset but I could not explain to anyone how I could be so blasé about a guy everyone thought was such a good catch. I also had no idea how to explain that I was often bored by the entire life I was leading either, or why it was that posing for Chance made me feel incredibly alive.
“I’ve been busy with classwork and trying to make some extra money.” I said in as noncommittal a tone as I could manage.
“How about I come over tonight? We could watch a movie and spend some time together.”
I winced. That was the other thing about Ned that I disliked, he was a student like me and didn’t have a lot of money but he always seemed to have enough for beer and for hanging out with his friends. When it came to me though, it was an entirely different story, he had only bought our dinner twice and going out with him was often more expensive than I could afford due to his ‘forgetting’ his credit cards and cash.
“I don’t think so, Lydia broke up with her boyfriend so she’s in the room a lot,” I said finally.
“Well can’t you get rid of her for a couple of hours? Ned wheedled.
“Why can’t we go to your room if you want to see me so badly?” I snapped, my patience finally wearing thin.
“You know I’m stuck rooming with that weirdo Thorne,” Ned grumbled.” He never goes out.”
“And you would never consider springing for a room.”
“Why should we get a room?” Ned asked, “I can’t afford that kind of money and you have a perfectly good room.”
“I have to go to work.” I said and stormed off. I was so angry I almost walked into the corner of the Liberal Arts building. My anger only increased with each step, I honestly resented Ned’s obvious disregard for me, he seemed to feel that he was entitled to my body and my time and that he owed me nothing in return and at that moment it hit me that I was absolutely done with him.
I made it to my car and got in, my thoughts turning away from Ned and back to Chase. A shiver ran down my spine as I dreamily contemplated an entire afternoon spent naked under his gaze. My pussy gave a little quiver as I imagined him coming to the little platform where I stood to straighten my arm, or to instruct me to bend a leg. I could almost feel his hands on my flesh and I had to take a few slow breaths and force myself to concentrate in order to navigate through traffic safely.
I pulled up in front of his apartment house and sat there looking at it. The tall brownstone building sat in a long strip of similar buildings. The whole neighborhood had a slightly seedy, hangdog air. Nightclubs marched through the avenue that cut across the street on which Chance lived, and small cheap restaurants nestled cheek and jowl with tiny stores that sold knockoffs of designer clothing and shoes. The apartment Chance owned had once been the home of a famous writer who had died in France, a fact that always made me feel goose bumps whenever I entered the space.
I got out of my car and strutted to the door, deliberately rolling my hips just in case he was watching through the enormous windows. I hit the buzzer and he took a long time to answer, when he did he was shirtless, a bright blue streak of paint ran across his left cheek and his hair was a rumpled mess on his finely shaped head. That sight made my heart contract painfully and my crotch to give a low insistent throb.
“You’re late,” he said by way of greeting.
“Sorry,” I said as I squeezed past him. His masculine and slightly musky scent hit me as I did so and I could feel my nipples tightening.
I went through the mostly barren living room, the television was on and I ignored it, I had long since learned he left it on for the noise but that he rarely if ever watched it. I could see the tiny and surprisingly neat kitchen to the right but most of my attention was focused on the ornate wrought iron staircase that spiraled up to the open second floor.
The entire upper floor had been converted to Chance’s studio. Light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and was reflected back by the large mirror that hung near the small alcove that served as his bedroom. The sight of bed, covered in pillows and covers of varying colors and texture, had fired my imagination more often than I would like to have to admit to.
Chance said nothing as I stripped off my black leather jacket, red silk blouse, tiny black skirt and boots, saving the tights for last. I had not worn a bra and my breasts, freed from the blouse, sat perkily on my chest. In the mirror I could see myself: long blonde hair hanging freely over slim shoulders, blue eyes under light brows and a set of full pink lips that I knew were kissable. My waist narrowed into a set of lean hips and my ass curved out like a bell behind. My legs were slim and long and my feet narrow and highly arched.
I positioned myself up on the platform and turned my head to gaze out the windows at the street below. My pussy dripped fluid as I saw a pair of men walk out of the bar across the street and stare up at me. One of them even made a lewd gesture with his pelvis that made an answering ache in my crotch. It shocked me, how much I really enjoyed being on display, how much it turned me on.
The day began to wane while Chance painted. Upon occasion I would shift just slightly so that he would come over and touch me as he rearranged me to his liking. After the third time he said, “Your skin is like ice. The wind is starting to pick up. I’ll go get you a warm drink, just relax for a few minutes.”
“Okay,” I said, stepping down from the platform gratefully. The long hours left my muscles cramped and stiff.