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One
Adrienne
A lot of random things came out of my mouth, some of them at the most awkward times, but I’d never been the person to say I’d drizzle honey all over him and lick it off. Or in this case, them.
As I sat near the back of the figure drawing class, staring at the evening’s two nude models, that was only one of many inappropriate thoughts racing through my mind.
Dial it back, Adrienne.
Not only was the idea not like me, but I was also usually more objective about nudity in a settling like this. I wasn’t a student, hadn’t been for more than a decade, but I’d gone to college with the current instructor, and she let me audit the class and use the room whenever I wanted, so I should at least try to behave.
The Monday night models were supposed to have been a couple in their sixties. I had been looking forward to catching a different type of frame, and at the same time distracting myself. I was starting a new job tomorrow. Basically my dream job, but like if I’d found a magic lamp and the genie had been created specifically to further a porn plot.
I was going to make art for video games. Score. A lot of it was going to be erotic art, since the game boasted realistic adult encounters with as many partners as the players wanted. Yup, picture the most popular MMO meets the Playboy Mansion. WOW plus some.
I could handle the nudity part—I wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise—but the sex part? Let’s just say a couple of inattentive boyfriends in my past, and an ex-husband who was far more focused on his own pleasure than mine, meant at thirty-seven I didn’t have nearly as much experience with sex as I’d like.
When I walked into the class ten minute late, the gorgeous men I found at the front of the room were not the older couple I expected. Would asking Scarlet for their names after ruin the fantasy or make it more potent?
These men may or may not be a couple, and they were probably older to most of the twenty-somethings in the room, given the silver around the one man’s temples. All that just meant I didn’t feel like a cougar as I ogled them.
I let my pencil slide over the paper, capturing the sharp jaw of the one on the right. The shape of his eyes. The clean-shaven chin, and dirty blond hair that just brushed the tops of his ears.
If I let my gaze drift lower, over his well-defined chest, over washboard abs, and to the impressive length dangling between his legs, I’d lose focus and start daydreaming about what other things I could drizzle over him and suck off.
Too late.
I dragged my attention up again.
The other model was just as captivating, with dark hair, a few days of stubble, and broader shoulders.
They both had large bandages on their forearms. Odd, but not enough to obstruct the amazing view.
I bet they’d be even hotter if they were embracing. I wouldn’t ask them to just for my art, but I could draw them that way, regardless.
My glances up became fewer and farther in between as I lost myself in the work. In my mind, the blond one was more reserved in public, but didn’t hesitate to take the lead in the bedroom. He’d approached the dark-haired man, capture his neck, press their lips and then their bodies together...
The image flowed through my imagination, capturing the sparks of a passionate kiss.
I looked up for another mental snapshot and one of the men had stepped away. The abrupt empty spot on the platform jarred me from my semi-trance. My sketch was rough, barely more than lines, but it was good. What were the odds I could capture this same kind of focus and style tomorrow and going forward?
The woman who hired me must think there was a good chance of me being able to do the job. I needed her confidence—in my skill and in general.
For tonight though, it was time to head home. I closed my sketch pad and put away my pencils. The half-complete fantasies would play themselves out the rest of the way, of blond and brunette making out while I watched, when I got back to my apartment.
I may not have much sexual experience with other people, but I had a drawer full of battery operated boyfriends, and wasn’t above picking two to keep me company tonight.
The walk down the art building hallway was familiar. I stepped outside onto a patio with vending machines against one wall, and an assortment of tables and chairs in the middle.
Brunette was seated at one, drinking a soda and wearing a T-shirt and sweat shorts that hugged him just enough to remind me what was underneath.
I’d give him a smile if he looked up, but otherwise, I’d walk right past and be on my way.
“Did you have a good session?” He asked as I drew closer. Damn it, of course he had a sexy voice, too. Deep and smooth, like fingers gliding over skin.
I didn’t want to linger and talk, mostly because I was awkward with strangers, and I couldn’t imagine magically getting better because this one was hot. My feet carried me toward him without my permission, and I said, “It was one of the better sketches I’ve gotten in a while. Great models help.”
And now I’d stop talking. So far I was doing all right, but no reason to push my luck.
