This is a companion story to Backgammon For Blood. It isn't necessary that you read that story first, but it might be helpful to you.
*
I was lonely. Even my art books weren't any comfort to me. I just wanted some love, and I thought that the only person who could provide it was Phil.
The first day without him had gone on much too long, and I knew I faced another four long evenings before I would see him again. And then another week would go on. And the week after that, for a full year. I realized that I needed something to take my mind away, so I got some paper and began to draw a head. Even though the pencil stopped at the man's shoulders, I knew he was naked.
Phil had taken a temporary job at corporate headquarters and would be staying there during the week, coming home on weekends. This was one of the sacrifices you make to advance in the corporate world, he'd explained to me. After six years of night classes for a marketing degree, there was no place for him in the field office he worked in.
To make matters worse, our only daughter had left for college the previous September. I would truly have an empty nest.
Finally, Phil arrived late on Friday evening. I wanted to talk, and to make love to him, but he was tired from the long week and drive home. I followed him to bed, but he just dropped off to sleep. I wasn't surprised - we only made love a few times a month even when he was living at home - but I was disappointed. When we were dating in our 20's we screwed anytime and anywhere, and the first few months after our marriage we did it almost every night. But then we had the baby, and we had to be more careful. Since then, the importance of regular or hot sex just fell off the table.
Saturday morning in the mail was a brochure from the local community college offering non-credit courses. Phil picked it up as I was doing the breakfast dishes and said, "Just what you need. Look here's a swimming course. No? Well how about introductory backgammon?" He ducked as I threw a sponge at him - Phil was a member of a local backgammon club and he tried to teach me the game, but I knew that if I ever got good at it, he'd just become resentful. "Okay, here's one - drawing with charcoal." Now that got me interested. I've always enjoyed doodling, and sometimes my friends saw my scratchings, usually of people, and said I was pretty good. Although I'd bought some art books, I'd never had any formal training, and I was concerned that the other people in the class might be better than I.
"I don't know," I said, "it's probably too expensive."
"Kathy, it's only $50. How cheap do you want it to be?" Phil kept on it all day, until I told him to shut up about it. We slept on it that night and over lunch the next day, I told him that I'd made up my mind; I was going to take the course.
A couple of weeks later, my classes began on a Tuesday evening. We had twelve people in the class, and our instructor was a real artist - he must have been, he looked the part. James was wearing blue jeans and a faded shirt and had a scruffy beard - definitely not my type. He had us drawing almost immediately, whatever we wanted to. I started drawing a picture of a tall man, and James noticed it. "You're good," he said. As we displayed our sketches to the class at the end of the exercise, I saw that there was only one person who was more advanced than I. As I was driving home, I felt as proud of myself as I had in years.
The class continued for five weeks, and I really enjoyed it. I felt I was making progress, and James was very encouraging. After one of the last classes, James took me aside and told me that he had a studio. In two weeks, he was starting a class in drawing the human figure. He felt that was my strong point, and invited me to take it. I discussed it with Phil when he called, and he encouraged me to continue with my lessons.
At the first class in James' studio, he spoke to us about theory for awhile, James split us up into pairs. My partner was Robert, a nice looking man about my age wearing a mock turtleneck and a sports coat. Our assignment was for us to draw each other. Every once in a while, Robert asked me to look up at the lights. When he showed me his work, I was impressed. He'd managed to capture my long black hair and facial features in a simple but powerful manner.
After class the next week Robert came over to me as we were leaving and asked me if I would like to join him at a coffee shop. I couldn't bring myself to go, but said (even if I didn't believe it,) "Maybe next week."
When Phil came home the next weekend, he asked me about my week. I just blurted out, "Some guy made a pass at me!" I don't know why I said that - Robert had been a perfect gentleman. When Phil asked me about it, I told him the whole story. I guess it came through that I didn't think that I should go out with Robert, and Phil was incredulous. "Do you think," he said, "that your having coffee with another guy is going to ruin our marriage?" However, this had the most interesting effect on Phil. That evening, instead of heading directly to sleep, we made long, slow love.
The next class came and at the break I went over to talk to Robert. "Coffee?" I asked. He said he'd love to, and we made a plan to meet at a Starbucks.
After we got there, we had a wonderful time just chatting. Robert was the owner of a jewelry business with three stores. I knew the chain; it was very successful and carried only the best lines. He had been widowed for a year and a half and he was thrilled to be with me, as he hadn't had a date since then. He found out all about me, and told me what a lucky guy Phil was. He said that although he'd had some art instruction in college, he hadn't done any serious work in years. The class was a way for him to exercise his talents and meet new people. I really enjoyed myself, and agreed to have coffee with him again next week, after the last class in the five-week series.
During the class, James announced that he would be startling another class, this time in nude illustration, and invited the entire group to sign up for it.
At the coffee house, we started talking it over. We were both excited by the prospect - you simply don't get good without learning to draw anatomy. However, the cost was of concern - $400 for an eight week class. Robert thought that he could swing it, but he really didn't want to go alone. I said I'd think about it, and would call him.
The next two days, before Phil came home, I took out my sketchpad and started drawing the male figure from my imagination. I sketched eight or nine nude illustrations, and then put it aside on the desk. Friday night, when Phil got home, he couldn't wait to get to me. Undressing me, he laid me on my back and came up to me while he was on his side. It gave both of us tremendous leverage, and I had a huge orgasm! I loved it.
The next day, Phil was hunting for some papers, and stumbled across my sketchpad. He asked me if he could look at it, and I told him it was all right. There was my figure of a man, the picture of Robert (although Phil didn't know who he was,) and some other innocuous pictures - and then the male nudes. Phil looked at them with interest, and then gave me a questioning glance. I then told him about the offer that James had made.
"Are you interested in drawing these?" Phil asked.
"Yes I really am," I said. "I just don't know if it's worth the cost."
Phil assured me that if I wanted to, I should go ahead; it wasn't that expensive. On Monday, I called Robert to talk it over, and we both agreed to enroll. After a few moments, Robert asked if I would like to go to dinner with him on Tuesday. "Oh, I don't know . . ."
"Kathy, I'd really appreciate it if you'd come out with me. You've really brightened up my Tuesday evenings for the last few weeks, and I'd like that to continue. Please?"
"Since you put it that way, all right."
He picked me up about 7. I wore a nice frock, a necklace, and I made sure to put some perfume on. He came to the door in a suit. I was impressed as he opened the car door for me; Phil almost never does that. We drove to the University area, and Robert pulled up to a private club that I'd heard about, but had never been in. The doorman addressed him by name; it was clear that Robert was a regular here.
As we walked into the club, Robert told me that the reason he'd brought me here was that he thought I'd be interested in the wall hangings, and I was. Most of the art was priceless. While we ate dinner in the Grand Ballroom, we talked art, and most of the time we were able to illustrate our points by simply pointing at one of the pieces around us. After dinner, Robert asked me if I would like to look at a special room. When I agreed, we walked to a large staircase, and Robert said, "I don't want you to be shocked, but I'm taking you up to the men's smoking room. On Tuesday nights, there's rarely anyone there. If someone is in the room, we'll have to leave, as women aren't normally allowed up there." I wondered why he wanted me to see this, and after he'd peeked in, he allowed me to enter. Of course, I saw immediately, as there must have been 40 or 50 female nudes on the walls. As I looked around, I was appalled. Not by the figures, but by the techniques. It was obvious that the purpose was for the men to enjoy nudity, not art. But then Robert led me into a corner, and I saw a small etching that was impressive. As I stood inspecting it, Robert said, "I've sat here many an evening with my friends, and listened to them grossly dissect these pieces of 'art.' But this is the only composition in this room I've ever enjoyed. I keep thinking that maybe I'll produce a piece that will go in here and outshine the junk." He put his arm around me, and I didn't make him take it away. We discussed the paintings, and I asked Robert if he was looking forward to the class on nudes.
"I think the female body is a beautiful thing, and I'd like to learn how to draw it in both a sensual and erotic method," he replied. I was looking forward to seeing his progress, as Robert was the most talented artist I'd ever met; I was sure he didn't need to learn much.
