Figure Drawing Class

As soon as the man walks into the classroom, Amy knows there’s going to be a problem.

She’s been attending this life drawing class for four weeks, hoping to improve her skills, and so far she’s amassed an impressive collection of flabby butts, floppy breasts, and flaccid penises. Though her drawing has perhaps seen some improvement over the weeks, she’d secretly hoped for more variety to the models. She knows it shouldn’t matter—it doesn’t matter—but how hard is it to find one decent-looking model for this class?

But when this week’s model enters the room, wrapped for now in a white bathrobe, Amy immediately regrets all her earlier grievances. The man is tall, over six feet. Dark brown skin. Shaved head. Full, succulent lips. Amy’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. Her heart skips a beat. Shit, she thinks. Careful what you wish for. She knows she’ll never be able to concentrate. She thinks about standing up and quietly excusing herself, but she thinks she might be paralyzed from the waist down.

The instructor, Rhonda, introduces the man as Keynon, then asks him to step onto the low stage and please remove his robe. When Keynon unties and removes his robe and drops it to the floor, Amy lets out an audible sigh, then quickly looks around to see if anyone has heard. Keynon’s body is perfection. Powerful arms and legs. Thick, firm chest. Abs like they were chiseled from granite. But no matter how hard she tries, Amy can’t avoid staring at his cock, as if luring her in by its sheer force of gravity.

Rhonda directs Keynon to stand with back straight, his head turned to the right, and both hands on his hips. He looks like a warrior prince, gazing off toward his beloved kingdom. Rhonda asks him to hold this pose for 25 minutes. Amy turns to a clean page in her notebook and picks up her charcoal pencil. 25 minutes! She’ll never make it.

As Keynon stands still on the stage, Amy can hear the half-dozen other students in the room scratching away in their notebooks. With her pencil in her hand, she glances up at Keynon, then looks hopelessly down at her own notebook. She draws a few cursory lines, then glances up again. Fuck, she thinks. What a magnificent cock. That’s the only appropriate word. She says it again to herself: Magnificent. Amy’s mind begins to drift, she imagines both of her hands wrapped around Keynon’s cock, stroking it slowly, feeling its weight in her hands. She imagines rubbing his cock against her cheeks, against her lips. She begins to squirm in her seat, feels herself becoming wet.

Rhonda appears behind Amy’s desk. “How’s it going here?” she asks.

Amy jumps. “Fine, great,” she says. “Just, you know, getting warmed up.”

“Of course,” Rhonda says and slinks away.

Amy curses Rhonda under her breath, then turns back to her notebook and sketches a few more half-hearted lines. When she glances up again, she thinks she catches Keynon’s eyes for just a moment, turned toward hers, but she can’t be certain. She drops her eyes again and decides to never look up again, to try to finish the rest of her drawing from memory.

A few more desultory lines, a little more frivolous shading, and before Amy knows it Rhonda is saying, “OK that’s time, everyone.” Amy exhales. Thank God. Keynon slips his robe on and disappears into the back room. Amy closes her notebook. She lingers for a moment, waiting to catch her breath. After a few minutes, she finally packs her things into her tote bag, stands, and makes her way out of the classroom, down the hall, and out of the building.

When she reaches the courtyard, she gasps and stops short. Keynon is standing there in the shade of an oak tree, his hands stuffed into the pockets of black workout pants. He watches Amy approach.

“Hey there,” he says and smiles. “You were in the drawing class, right?

Amy blinks. Was I? She doesn’t remember.

“Yeah,” she says. “I—I guess I was?”

Keynon laughs. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t very memorable. I did the best I could.”

“Oh no,” Amy says and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. Yes, I was there. You were—Weren’t you the model?”

Keynon extends his hand to Amy. “Keynon,” he says.

“Amy,” she says, holding onto his hand longer than she realizes.

“So how does it look?” Keynon says.

“Excuse me?” Amy says, blushing.

Keynon gestures to the notebook, peeking out of Amy’s tote bag. “Your drawing,” he says. “How’d it turn out?”

“Oh,” Amy says. “Right. To be honest, probably not very good? I don’t know, I haven’t even looked at it.”

“May I?” Keynon asks.

 “Sure,” Amy says. “I guess so.”

She takes the notebook from her bag, flips the pages to the most recent sketch, and hands it to Keynon. He stares at the drawing and raises an eyebrow.

“Hmm,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” Amy says, taking the notebook and shoving it back into her bag. “It sucks. I couldn’t concentrate. It’s not your fault. I was distracted.”

Keynon smiles. “Were you? I’m sorry to hear that, Amy.”

The sound of her name coming from those lips makes Amy’s heart jump. Her legs almost give out underneath her. She wants to pull Keynon into her and take him right here on campus, in the shade of this oak tree, in front of everyone. She wants him to hold her down on the freshly mowed lawn, leaves and grass clippings tangled in her hair.

“It’s OK,” Amy says, shrugging.

“No, I feel bad,” Keynon says. “Can I make it up to you?”

Amy looks up and meets his eyes. “What do you—how do you propose to do that?”

“You want to try again?” Keynon asks. “Maybe with fewer, you know, distractions?”

“But where?” Amy asks. “Class is out and I’m pretty sure they lock the room and Rhonda is probably not—”

“No no,” Keynon says and laughs. “Not here. Somewhere where you can relax. Where you can concentrate better. Where are you most comfortable, Amy?”

Amy hesitates, takes a deep breath. “I guess my place?” she says.

“Works for me,” Keynon says.

Amy lives only a few blocks from campus, in a two-bedroom apartment above a Thai restaurant. She and Keynon walk together, talking about school and art. Keynon is a student too, and he models for the life drawing class from time to time to help pay for his courses.

“Isn’t it awkward to pose naked in front of students at the same school you attend?” Amy asks.

“It was at first,” Keynon says, “but then I started doing the same thing I do when I have to give a speech in front of people.”

“What’s that?” Amy asks.

Keynon winks at Amy. “Imagine the audience naked, of course.”

They reach Amy’s building. As they walk up the stairs to her apartment, Amy prays her roommate Lilly isn’t home, that she’s out on her deliveries or somewhere. Amy unlocks the apartment door and pokes her head inside. Hello? No response. Hallelujah. Amy and Keynon enter the apartment. There’s a long couch in the center of the living room, a couple of mismatched chairs, and various articles of clothing and shoes scattered about the floor. Amy asks Keynon if he’d like anything to drink.

“Tea?” she asks. “Water? Is it too early for a beer?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Keynon says.

“Do you smoke?” Amy asks. “I know where Lilly keeps her stash.”

Keynon smiles. “I’m good, really. You want to get started?”

“Get started?” Amy asks.

“On your drawing,” Keynon says. “Where would you like me to stand? Or would you prefer I were seated?”

“Oh,” Amy says. “Right, of course. I don’t know, maybe seated? On the couch? Does that work for you?”

Keynon walks over to the couch, examines it, and nods his head.

“Do you—do you want some privacy?” Amy asks. “To get undressed?”

Keynon laughs. He strips off his black T-shirt and tosses it onto one of the chairs. He kicks his sneakers off and lifts his feet one at a time to peel off his socks. When he unties the drawstring on his black workout pants, Amy bites her bottom lip so hard she thinks she might’ve drawn blood. Keynon tugs his pants down and tosses them onto the chair, and he’s now wearing only thin black briefs, barely enough to contain all of him. He pulls his briefs down. Amy blinks. Magnificent.

Keynon sits, then lies back against the arm rest, stretching out fully along the length of the couch.

“Well?” he says.

“Well,” Amy says. “Well well well.”

“You going to open your notebook up or what?” Keynon asks and laughs.

“Fuck,” Amy says, grappling for her notebook and pencil. “Yeah, of course, sorry.”

Amy sits in the chair unoccupied by Keynon’s clothes. The apartment isn’t very large, and Amy is seated only seven feet away from Keynon. She crosses her legs and places her notebook in her lap, which she hopes will also help hide the developing wet spot on her denim shorts. She reaches behind her head, ties her hair in a ponytail, and takes a deep breath.

“You comfortable?” Keynon asks.

“Sure,” Amy says.

“Good,” Keynon says and winks. “You have 25 minutes.”

Amy presses the pencil to a clean page and looks at Keynon—the curve of his shoulders, the contour of his biceps. Her eyes float across his body, at the rising and falling of his chest, the way the light from the window gleams on his skin. She thinks about licking his skin, biting his neck, putting his fingers in her mouth. She now notices Keynon’s cock is getting harder, and his breathing is becoming deeper.

“You doing OK?” she asks. “This isn’t too uncomfortable for you?”

“I’m doing great,” Keynon says. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Amy says. “I’m just wondering, you know, what you’re thinking about?”

“Like I told you,” Keynon says. “I’m imagining my audience naked.”

Amy drops her pencil. “I can’t do this,” she says.

Keynon turns and looks at her. “What can’t you do, Amy?”

“I can’t fucking concentrate,” Amy says. “I can’t stop being fucking distracted.”

 “I really want to help you be less distracted,” Paul says. “What if we were, like, on equal ground?”

“What are you—what do you mean?” Amy asks.

 “Let me see you,” he says. 

Amy hesitates, then nods her head. “OK, Keynon,” she says.

She stands up from the chair. With her heart beating hard in her chest, she lifts her T-shirt over her head and drops it. She reaches behind her back, undoes her bra, and lets it fall. Her breasts are small and firm, with a slight, upward curve. She stares at Keynon while undoing the top button to her denim shorts, the second button, and the third button. She lets her shorts drop to the floor. She lets Paul see how soaked her panties are, savors the sight of his stiffening cock. Amy lifts her hands behind her head, undoes her ponytail, and lets her hair fall to her shoulders. She bends forward to slide her panties down to her ankles, steps out of them, and stands before Paul, both of them now naked. Keynon’s cock is completely hard. Amy can feel her wetness begin to drip down her leg.

“Well,” she says. “Are you going to?”

“Am I going to what, Amy?” Keynon asks.

“Help me be less distracted,” Amy says.

Keynon smiles. He doesn’t say anything, but silently watches Amy’s body from this short distance.

“Do you want to touch me?” Amy asks.

“I do,” Keynon says.

Amy takes a small step forward. “Can I touch you?” she asks.

Keynon smiles. “Yes, Amy. You can touch me.”

Amy takes another step forward. She’s close enough now to feel the heat rising from Keynon’s body.

“What will you do to me?” she asks.

“Anything you want, Amy,” Keynon says.

Amy steps closer. She’s now standing above Keynon, who is lying back on the couch, his cock long and hard, reaching to just below his beautiful abs. She kneels on the couch above Keynon, straddles his legs, and reaches for him, taking his cock in her both of her hands. He closes his eyes and moans as Amy strokes him up and down. She can feel the blood pulsing and trembling in her hands. Her mouth is hanging open, and a string of spit drops from her mouth and lands on Keynon’s cock.

“Whoops,” she says.

“Is that all?” Keynon asks. “I know you got more in there.”

Amy works her tongue in her mouth, gathering the saliva, then leans forward and spits on Keynon’s cock, then massages it in her hands, making Keynon’s cock shine like obsidian.

“Yes, Amy,” Keynon says. “That’s right. Get me good and wet.”

Amy leans forward and spits on him again, then lingers with her mouth inches above Keynon’s cock. She presses his cock against her face. Slaps his cock gently against her cheeks. Brushes his cock against her lips like she’s applying lipstick. Opens her mouth wide, wider. She wraps her lips around him and fits as much of him as she can in her mouth.

 “Good and wet, Amy,” Keynon moans. “Yes, just like that, just like that.”

Amy bobs her mouth up and down, choking on Keynon’s cock, comes up for air, then takes him into her mouth again. She touches herself, slides two fingers inside her burning pussy.

“Will you, please,” Amy says, breathlessly, “fuck me with this magnificent cock?”

She maneuvers herself to her knees, straddling Keynon. She holds his cock with one hand and guides it to her pussy. She moans as she feels the tip enter.

“Take it slow, baby,” Keynon says.

“Don’t worry about me,” Amy breathes. “Worry about yourself.”

Keynon laughs. “All right then.”

Kneeling over him, Amy slowly slides Keynon’s cock into her, inch by inch. She bites down on her lip and her entire body shivers. She pauses a moment, takes a breath, then takes the rest of him, filling her pussy with his cock. She places her hands on his chest and sways her thighs back and forth gently, gently.

“You feel good,” Keynon says. “You feel real good.”

“You feel good too,” Amy says. “Real, real good.”

Amy rocks her thighs faster, savoring the feel of Keynon’s cock pressing deep inside her. Keynon grasps Amy’s tits between his hands. Amy’s eyes roll back and she lifts her head up to the ceiling and lets out a whimper. Keynon grabs Amy’s ass and begins to lift her up and down on his cock, filling her deeper than she’d ever imagined possible. Keynon is moaning louder and louder and soon he’s saying he’s going to cum.

“Wait for me,” Amy says.

“OK, baby,” Keynon breathes.

Amy lifts her hand from Keynon’s chest and reaches for herself and rubs her clit while bouncing on his cock. She feels her orgasm coming from somewhere in her bones, beginning in her fingertips and traveling up her arms and into her chest. She feels it in her hips, down to her thighs, then she feels her orgasm all at once flooding her entire body, like a dam bursting.

“I’m cumming,” she shouts. “Cum with me, Keynon. Cum with me.”

Keynon and Amy cry out loud as they orgasm together. Keynon clutches Amy’s ass and rocks her hips back and forth, and she can feel his cock pulsing with each burst of his cum inside her. Both of them are moaning and trembling and clawing at each other’s bodies. Amy feels her and Keynon’s cum dripping down her legs. She lets out a long and content sigh and drops her head on Keynon’s chest. Keynon holds Amy in his arms and kisses her hair.

“Well, what do you think?” Keynon says.

“What do I think about what?” Amy asks.

“You think you can concentrate now?”

Amy lifts her head and looks up at Keynon. “You know what?” she says. “I think I can, actually.”

Keynon smiles. “Good,” he says. “Let’s get back to work.”