Empty chairs circled a raised platform set upon the polished floor, on which cushions and thick blankets were arranged.
The space was large, with white painted walls. Halogen lights shone down from the ceiling, illuminating the small stage and smooth concrete of the surrounding floor. Veronica’s footsteps echoed as she crossed the space to join her husband in the small changing room.
He had already begun to shed his clothing; his shirt was on the floor by his feet and he was loosening the cord of his sweat pants. Veronica watched as he let his pants fall.
“We’re going to have to do something about this before the class arrives,” Veronica murmured as she pressed herself close to him, running a finger up the length of his penis and over the tip.
She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as they heard the doors to the gallery opening, and multiple sets of footsteps echoing in the room beyond.
“Too late,” she whispered. George moaned quietly against her neck as Veronica chuckled. With an affectionate squeeze of his testicles, she removed her own loose-fitting dress and donned a robe from the bag George had brought with them.
Next, she withdrew a pair of sandals and slipped them on, not bothering to fasten them.
With an innocent bat of her eyelashes, she opened the door and slipped out, leaving George to hastily pull on his own robe. Veronica weaved her way through the small crowd of art students as she made her way to the model’s platform.
She could feel curious eyes on her as people settled themselves into the simple wooden chairs and arranged their materials. Veronica looked around the room from within her spotlight on the dais, stretching lightly in preparation for posing. In the bright light, it was difficult to make out much detail beyond a glimpse of a familiar face here, or an appraising glance from a stranger there.
Veronica stood in the circle of light, wearing her sheer robe. She could feel their attention on her, eyes of every shade looking through her robe to her bare skin beneath skin. She felt luminous, glowing as she stood in the center of them all, with her husband standing by her side.
Before long, the class moderator was directing them into place.
“When you’re ready,” the class organiser nodded to her. With a confident lift of her chin, Veronica carefully pulled at the loose knot of her gown. It fell open to reveal her breasts, her stomach, and the crown of her vagina.
She watched as eyes caressed her up and down, exploring her body thoroughly as she let the robe fall to the ground. George did the same behind her, the soft material falling from his broad shoulders like silk. She smiled when she saw his penis respond to the attention, twitching up and down. She saw several women in the crowd following the movement of his erection with their own smiles. Several of them shifted in their seats, no doubt quelling a twinge of arousal.
Veronica’s own arousal was less easy to assuage as she and George took their poses, holding them for several minutes each as the class sketched their forms in ink or charcoal, pencil or chalk. All around the room, their nakedness was being scrutinised and captured onto brown paper.
Veronica assumed more challenging positions for the short poses, knowing she wouldn’t have to hold them for more than five minutes. She flung her arms out and stretched her legs wide, her heart beating fast. Not from exertion, but the thrill of exposing herself so completely. She wondered whether the slight gloss of her arousal would be visible between her legs. The thought only aroused her more.
By the third pose, George’s erection had settled. He looked relaxed, and smiled when he caught her eye. Veronica grinned widely at him. Someone in the class coughed, and Veronica bit her lip, struggling to maintain her neutral facial expression for the class.
After a short break, the class resumed with longer poses. Veronica arranged herself in a sitting pose, while George lay on his back beside her. On impulse, she placed a hand on his chest, running his fingers very lightly through the hair there. George reached up to wrap his arm across her waist. Veronica had full view of his whole body, and she noticed his penis stir again as she eyed him. George spent the length of the pose roving his eyes over Veronica’s breasts, up her neck to meet her smiling eyes, before darting his gaze back down to her nipples and rosy areolas.
Soon it was time to change pose. They both stood to stretch, and George wrapped her in an embrace from behind, his hands holding her hips. Caught by surprise, she held her arms out in a dancer’s pose, and the timer began. She hoped she could hold the position for the whole pose. George held himself close against her, and she could feel his erection pressing into her from behind.
She thought of what it would be like to feel him slip between her slightly parted legs, to have him enter her as she stood so still in front of all these people. She could feel George’s warm, tickling breath on the back of her neck and felt the hair on her arms raise in electric pleasure. Veronica stoutly held her pose, yet all she wanted was to collapse to the floor and have George take her. She subtly shifted her legs apart, slowly arching her back against George’s chest. She could feel his erection brush between her legs as he adjusted his stance, an inch at a time so as not to be noticeable. Veronica was aching to feel him inside her.
“And that’s time!”
Veronica felt George groan against the back of her neck. George bent down quickly, scooping up their robes as the class began to pack away their equipment. He quickly wrapped one around himself to hide his hard penis. Veronica shrugged into her own robe, her stiff nipples peaking through the sheer material.
Their friend Phillippe called them both over to see his work. George and Veronica stepped towards him, peering over his shoulder at a painting of themselves. It was exquisite, with energetic linework and passionate streaks of colour adding form and life to the piece.
Veronica wondered around the class to see the others, taking in the variety of styles and mediums which all depicted herself and George in an embrace. As she moved closer to the chairs which had enjoyed a more direct line of sight, she saw a few images had captured George’s penis pressing into her. Others still had taken more erotic creative license, embellishing their features with expressions of bliss she was sure had not been quite so overt.
While she recognised herself and George in the images, each offered a unique perspective; she saw herself through the eyes of friends and strangers both, marvelling at each different interpretation of her body and personality. She continued around, admiring the skill of the artists.
Before long, the sketches were all rolled up and bags packed. Students were filing back out through the door amidst friendly chat with their peers. The class moderator was the last out. “Just be sure to pull the door shut behind you when you leave!” With a final wave, he left George and Veronica alone to get dressed.
They made their way into the small change room once again. George smiled down at his wife as he pulled at the knot of her belt, allowing her robe to fall open once more. Gently pinning her to the wall, he entered her easily, a testament to her arousal. She wrapped one leg around his waist to pull him closer, and clasped the back of his neck. Veronica lifted her hips to allow him in deeper as he thrust into her, increasing his pace as she cried out for more. Deeper. Faster. George complied eagerly.
Veronica could feel her climax build wildly, uncontrollably, as George continued to thrust into her. She could tell he was close, too. She wanted to wait, to climax together, but George’s rhythm pushed her over the edge and she moaned loudly. George groaned as he released inside her with a few more deep strokes, kissing down her neck as he pressed his body to hers.
She ran her fingers through his hair, sweeping it back from his face so she could look into his eyes.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he said.
Veronica grinned, her face flushed with pleasure. “Me too, you have no idea.”
“Shall we pack up?” George suggested. Veronica nodded and they gathered their things. As they left, George collected a roll of paper from the centre of the room.
“I asked if we could keep it.” George said, unrolling the picture. “It was my favourite.”
Veronica stared at herself and her husband rendered so beautifully on the page, like living gods of an ancient time.
“Do you like it?” George asked.
“I love it.” Veronica said.
They closed the door behind them and headed for home.
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