Let me tell you a secret.
I’ve had this fantasy for so many years.
It all started when I was a fine arts student and I used to draw nudes in a life drawing class.
I often fantasized that I was the model in the class. In real life, I’m much too shy to pose nude in front of a group full of strangers. But in my imagination, everything is possible.
I’m not there because I need the money. I do it because I love the attention. It’s such a formal atmosphere. It’s almost silent. All that can be heard is the sound of the pencil leads rubbing against the paper. It’s full of artists. Serious artists. The formality of the atmosphere actually makes me feel even more turned on.
When I arrive for the art class, I wear no underwear under my clothes. I don’t just do this for practical reasons so that the artists cannot see the compression lines against my skin. I do it because wearing no underwear on the way there, getting public transport, and then walking down the street as I feel the breeze under my skirt, caressing my naked vulva makes me so incredibly aroused.
I am usually there about ten minutes before the class begins. I greet the teacher and the students and I take my clothes off in the corner.
When I’m naked, I put a robe on and then I sit at the front of the class. The teacher has already told me the poses I need to do. Some of them are five-minute poses, others are ten minutes long so the quality and detail of the drawings vary a lot.
When it gets to the moment of taking my robe off, I feel another surge of excitement. Everyone is staring at my naked body in silence. I see the students staring at me as they draw me. I can hear the sound of pencils sketching against the paper.
But what really turns me on the most, is feeling those staring eyes against my nudity. I scan the room just with my eyes because I cannot move my body; I have to stay very still during each pose. I notice that there is one guy right at the back of the class who is staring at me more intensely than anybody else. He seems very meticulous.
When he stares at me, his expression is full of concentration. I feel his gaze like energy. It’s like a Reiki session. Although he is not touching me, I can feel the charged energy of his intense stare against my naked skin. When he stares at my breasts, my nipples get hard. When he stares at my genitals, I can feel my clitoris throb and my vulva feels warm and wet. I can even feel the wetness at the top of my thighs. I wonder if he will convey this in his drawing.
I am curious to see exactly what he is drawing because without a doubt, he is the one who’s paying the most attention to my nakedness. He must be really advanced because the teacher never corrects his sketches as he does with the other students.
At the end of the class, after one hour of posing, I stay naked. I want to delay getting dressed for as long as possible. The students pack their pencils away. I walk around their easels to see what they have produced. Some of the drawings are really good. But what’s really interesting is that everyone’s perception of my naked body is totally different. It’s the same naked body, but there are so many different depictions of it.
Then I get the guy who was staring the most. I can see that he is clearly embarrassed. All of a sudden, he can hardly look me in the eye.
Why is that?
But then when I see his drawings, I understand everything. He can’t draw to save his life. Oh my God. He’s really bad! He was staring the most and all he produced is a set of basic squiggles that don’t even look like a person. In fact, his sketches are the worst I’ve ever seen in an art class. No wonder the teacher doesn’t dare to correct his work. It’s incorrigible.
I’m horrified.
How could someone who draws so badly come to an art class that’s full of advanced artists? I’m kind of confused. I’m even embarrassed for him.
But then when I realise that he only came to stare at me, my arousal peaks to the point of climax.