I once had an erotic drawing made of my wife. It was pretty tame: the artist worked from a photograph I provided, and I'd posed her like the model in Renoir's The Bather Arranging her Hair, as she has a similar figure and skin tones. We were both pleased by the result, although when she saw it Luce remarked that she wished we'd gone for something bolder, and it would have been more fun if she'd sat for the artist in person.
"In fact," she added with a smile, "I think it would have a lot more fun!"
"Maybe you could pose for life classes," I suggested.
"For lots of horny young art students? Mmm!"
"Of course your poses wouldn't be quite right and they'd have to keep rearranging them…"
She giggled. "Oh, I'm sure they'd all be very detached and professional about it – worse luck!"
Later on, after we'd made love, I thought of a way to make this fantasy come true.
It took months to set it up. I had to find a studio and get hold of easels and canvass and charcoal and paper and paint, keeping them all under a tarp in my garage until I'd made all the other arrangements. Then I had to work up the nerve to tell her what I'd planned, or at least the part of it I wanted her to know in advance.
I wasn't sure how she'd take it. I thought she might be shocked, and she was a bit, but then she started to get excited. During the next few days she took to draping herself over the furniture in suggestive attitudes, and asking me anxiously if the students knew she didn't mind if it was a bit naughty.
"I told them it was entirely up to them," I said, which was true as far as it went.
Finally the day arrived. I don't know which of us was the more turned on. I'd told her not to put on any underwear that morning as it would leave marks on her skin, thinking this would heighten the anticipation. It did. By the time we got to the studio in the afternoon her excitement was obvious from way her nipples strained at her cashmere top, while the crotch of my jeans was bulging.
Everyone was there ahead of us, as I'd arranged.
Luce did a bit of double-take when she saw them, because, apart from Will, none of them looked very much like art students. Will, to be fair, was wiry and pale with delicate hands and badly bitten, though clean, nails. Shawn, on the other hand, was a big black guy who looked as though he was more used to handling weights than a pencil. Gary was a bit older than me, carrying a bit of a middle-age spread but not flabby. And Gary had brought his wife.
Luce looked at me in alarm when I introduced Linda. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her that one of her artists might be female. I just shrugged, though meeting Linda for the first time gave me pause too. She was about the same age as Gary, but although she had grey hair she had a superb figure, and she didn't dress her age: she wore leggings and a tight T shirt that did nothing to hide either her trim thighs or her breasts, which were small and still firm.
There was a bed in the middle of the room, with just a white bottom sheet on it. Five chairs surrounded it, with easels in front of four of them. I sat down in the fifth while Luce moved uncertainly to the bed.
She looked around at each of us. "Er, what do I…"
Nobody said anything as the answer was obvious. With a "here goes" she quickly kicked off her shoes and stripped off her sweater and slacks and lay face up on the bed.
I heard an indrawn breath from one of the guys. Linda murmured something that sounded appreciative. I just savoured the sight of Luce's soft, natural curves and her pale skin, and the contrast they made with her red nipples and dark fuzz at the top of her legs. Even if this had been just a life class, I thought, it would still have been bloody good fun.
"How do you want me?" asked my wife from the bed. I think it was meant to sound seductive though her voice was a little tremulous and high-pitched.
"Just do what feels good to you," Gary suggested.
Luce stretched her arms behind her head and arched her back a little. Her breasts shifted slightly with the movement. However, she had her legs crossed, giving a great view of her creamy hip and arse, but hiding her pussy.
"Not bad," Gary said, "But can you open your legs a bit?"
Obligingly, she parted her knees.
"A bit more than that."
