Mural
Three
I LEFT THE PLANNING to Melody. She said she had an idea and would let me know when we could work. In the meantime, true to her word, Lissa showed up in our studio the first Friday morning in February.
Sweet Jesus! I had never seen anything so incredible in my life. The woman who regularly beat me to a pulp playing racquetball at least once a week was there in front of me stark naked and looking like a goddess come to life. Lissa is about five-ten, the same as me. She’s a real athlete with an amazing rack that just plain doesn’t move, even without her sports bra. She’s blonde up top and there was no way to tell about below because she was shaved smooth. When she was introduced, Prof said something about a real atelier model in our midst.
I didn’t quite have a six pack, but Lissa did. Not the gross bodybuilder kind, but the kind that was so flat and firm that you could see her muscles ripple beneath her skin. I knew from playing racquetball that she was graceful, but as a nude model in front of our class, she was like a panther stalking and then freezing with her muscles quivering, ready to pounce.
Yeah, I acted all professional and everything, but as soon as class was over and she stepped behind the curtain, I looked at what I’d drawn and sprouted an instant boner. When I looked at some of the girls, they looked a little glassy-eyed, too. After class, Lissa stopped to talk to Melody and when I caught up she turned and smiled at me.
“We’re still on for this afternoon, right?” she asked.
“Huh?” Oh my god! We’re going to play racquetball this afternoon. “Yeah. See you later.”
“See you later? Don’t tell me you have a date with that… that… that goddess!” Amy squealed as we walked into the cafeteria.
“We play racquetball every week,” I said meekly.
“Yeah, sure. She bats your balls around, I’ll bet,” Sandra smirked.
“Really.”
“Yeah, really. I’ll be there to chaperone,” Melody said. I looked at her with my mouth open. She was coming to watch us play again? Since the last time she came to the club and we went out to dinner, we hadn’t managed to get together once. What can I say? Stupid school. As boring as most of my classes were, it was still a ton of work. Fundamentals class had advanced from hours of stretching canvases to hours of prepping a huge mural wall that the instructor was doing for the school. It was listed as lab, but it was just grunt work.
I bet that when Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, it was probably him and about thirty freshman students who mixed paint, plaster, and ran errands for him. If he was working, they were working. That’s how the fundamentals professor was. We’d spent most of the past four weekends working or on call for hours to do the grunt work. It’s the only other class I have with Melody, but I didn’t see her once when I was working.
Melody and I got to the club and she had a guest pass waiting for her. She headed straight for the ladies’ locker room. I went to change and headed for the court. When I got there, Lissa was already showing Melody the proper stance for receiving a serve. She had her arms wrapped around Melody’s waist to reach her hands on the racquet. It was sexy as hell.
“Tony, serve a couple of lobs for Melody. Don’t go crazy. I promised I’d show her the fundamentals of play today and then we’ll have our game.”
“I don’t mind,” I answered truthfully. Melody was dressed in a tank top over a sports bra and a pair of short shorts that showed the lower crease of her butt. And every time I looked at Lissa, I still saw her naked in my mind’s eye with her perfect breasts and bullet-like nipples and her smoothly shaved pussy. Of course, they were both behind me when I served, but I quickly backpedaled to give Melody and Lissa room to return the ball. I was still watching the two follow through when the ball hit me in the chest. Melody screeched and asked if I was all right. Lissa just rolled her eyes at me and threw me the ball to serve again.
We worked like that for about fifteen or twenty minutes and then Lissa said it was time for her to get my attention back on the ball, so a very winded Melody left the court to watch as Lissa worked my ass off chasing her serves from one side of the court to the other. I was amazed that I actually managed to score a few points; she really took me to school.
“Mercy!” I finally yelled, falling on my knees after the last point. “I’m no match for you today.”
“You are never a match for me,” Lissa laughed. “That’s for having your head in a different room this afternoon. Seriously, Tony, you’re the only real competition I have here so I need you to have your head in the game.” She gave me one of the most evil looks I have ever seen as we turned to the low door. “Now I’m going to take your girlfriend to the showers and get naked with her,” she whispered in my ear. “Think about that for a while.”
“She’s not my…”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Melody and Lissa left me standing outside the racquetball court, already getting hard.
“Next weekend,” Melody said out of the blue as we were eating that night. I’d done my best imitation of her formal invite and she’d accompanied me to The Twister, a retro café with a lot of 60s paraphernalia hanging on the walls. I looked at her blankly, not comprehending the non sequitur.
“Next weekend is when we work on our final project. We’ll have all weekend, so plan to skip racquetball that Friday and not get back until Sunday night. Pack your sketch supplies and paints and the canvas or watercolor paper you intend to use. I’ve made arrangements to borrow two easels from the studio so we won’t have to dismantle one piece in order to work on the other. Don’t bother packing much in the way of clothes. I expect we’ll be naked most of the weekend.”
I blew Coke out my nose.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ve got it all arranged. I’ve even got a car for the weekend to transport our stuff. Don’t worry about it. Just be ready to go after class.”
It was a damn fine day. Lissa even called to tell me she was out of town and had to cancel our court time.
True to her word, Melody dragged me away from class without so much as stopping for lunch with our friends. We lugged two easels downstairs to where a Mazda SUV was sitting and loaded them in the back. Then Melody drove us to the dorms to load anything else we needed and in twenty minutes we were on the road. It wasn’t a long drive. We drove up Queen Anne, weaving around dead ends where the street couldn’t make the grade and finally winding around to the west side of the hill. I assumed we must be headed to Melody’s home, as confidently as she was driving, but the place we stopped at was nothing less than stunning. The house was in a nice neighborhood and looked elegant from the front, but when she led me through to the back of the house, I was speechless. From the back deck there was an absolutely spectacular view of the water. The early afternoon sun was sparkling off the surface.
“This place is beautiful!” I said. “Is this where you live?”
“No. I borrowed it for the weekend. We’ll be working downstairs. Let’s get our stuff.” We unloaded the car and this time Melody led me down the front stairs into a walkout basement. The view was almost as good here as it was from upstairs, but only from the sliding glass doors. The rest of the room had been cleared of everything but the essentials. At one end of the room was a twin sleigh bed stacked with linens, pillows, and fabric. At the other end of the room, easily thirty feet long, was a hardwood floor. It looked like a dance floor… or a racquetball court. The ceiling was nowhere near high enough, but it didn’t take much imagination to see it as a sports court setting. I was pretty sure Melody wasn’t planning to draw the ceiling.
“This is so cool! We can set your scene up at this end and mine at that end.”
“You figured it out. I was afraid I was going to have to explain.”
“I may be slow, but I’m not stopped. I don’t know how you managed to arrange this but you are brilliant. But there’s like… um… one thing… You might not like everything you see and… um…”
“Look, just set up your scene and I’ll set up mine. We can flip a coin to see who goes first.” With that she started setting up her easel and sketchbook while I started working on the drapery the way I imagined it.
“This bed is perfect. How did you manage this?”
“That Watteau painting you said you liked when we were talking about drapery—The Toilet. And the picture you showed me by Boucher—Resting Maiden. This reminded me of those. I just figured you could alter the headboard and fabrics when you paint.”
“You put a lot of thought into this, Melody. Thank you. This just happened to be here?”
“Pretty much.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I was so excited about setting the scene that I didn’t investigate any further. Behind the bed, there was an adjustable coat rack to hang the drapes over. I made up the bed with pillows and hung my tricot drapes. When I framed the image between my hands, the drapes looked like they were suspended from skyhooks. I had a few props that I’d brought with me, as well. I positioned the ewer and bowl that I found in the theater props closet on a small table at the end of the bed. I went up to the kitchen and washed the purple grapes that I’d bought that morning at the market and brought them down in a bowl. I positioned candles strategically around the scene. I knew exactly what I wanted and where. When I was finished, I turned toward Melody at the other end of the room. She didn’t have much in the way of props, but she’d thought to bring two flood lights with diffusion screens with her to create a bright corner of the room without casting shadows.
Melody looked at my setup and nodded. I looked at hers and wandered around under the lights checking for shadows as well. We met back in the middle.
“Should we…?”
“You want a Coke?” We spoke at about the same time and laughed at our own nervousness.
“There’s no rush,” Melody said. “Why don’t we go upstairs and have a little lunch before we get started? My stomach’s growling.” I’d been so focused on getting set up that I forgot about food, but as soon as she mentioned it, I became acutely aware of my own hunger pangs.
“Great idea. Should we go get burgers?”
“Our… um… host left us food in the fridge.”
“Is our host coming back while we’re here?” I asked as I followed her up the stairs.
“Out of town. Oh. We have the bedroom on the left down the hall.”
“We?”
“Um… or any of the others, I guess. That’s just the one she pointed out to me.” Melody pulled a platter of cold cuts and cheese out of the fridge with mustard and mayo. There was a loaf of bread and a knife on the counter. We made sandwiches and drank Cokes in silence.
“Tony.”
“Melody.” We started at the same time again. This time she nodded to me to go first.
“Melody, this place is cool and all, but are you comfortable here… I mean, alone with me? You know I’m not expecting anything but modeling, don’t you?”
“I kinda suggested it, remember? And I should be asking you those questions. I mean, I understand if you really don’t like girls, but Lissa said we all had that wrong. But, if you’re not into me… I still want to do the painting with you, and I won’t ask for anything else.”
My heart was beating like a thousand times a second. Melody, my secret fantasy girl, was telling me she might be up for more if I was interested. When I stood up I wavered a second, afraid I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. I went around the little breakfast bar and stood in front of Melody. She looked up at me with… I wanted to say hope, but I thought there was fear, too. I took her hands in mine.
“Melody, there isn’t anything you could ask of me this weekend that I wouldn’t give you. It’s really more than okay.” I pulled her up from her seat, thinking that we’d head back to the makeshift studio, but she melted against me and pressed her lips to mine. It was soft and gentle and lingered with tastes of hope and promise.
“Let’s see how it goes,” she whispered.
The next order of business was to determine who went first. Would I model and she paint or the other way around? Melody pulled out a coin from her bag and told me to call it in the air. She tossed the coin up and I yelled, “Heads!” The coin hit the floor and started rolling across the hardwood. We both chased after it, laughing. It rolled all the way into the corner and ended up leaning against the baseboard.
“Okay, I guess we know what that means,” she said. I looked at her blankly. “We both go at the same time.”
“We can’t both paint and model at the same time.”
“No, but we can both undress at the same time. That’s what all the uncertainty is about, isn’t it? I’m afraid you’ll think I’m not beautiful like Lissa and you’re afraid I won’t like your cock as much as old man Johnson’s. So, we both undress at the same time and we just stay that way this weekend. Ready, set, go. Please don’t hesitate or I won’t have the courage to keep going,” she squealed as she peeled off her t-shirt and reached behind to unsnap her bra. I quickly pulled off my shirt as well and then we both kicked off our shoes and shimmied out of our jeans and underwear in one move. In less than fifteen seconds we were both naked.
Oh god, she was beautiful! My eyes started up from her toes and got stuck for a minute on her bare pussy. She’d shaved it like Lissa’s. I don’t know why I kept thinking about Lissa except that she’d been modeling for us last week and… I wrenched my eyes further up and saw two of the most exquisite breasts I’d ever imagined. I couldn’t wait to touch… I mean paint them. When my eyes reached her face, I discovered hers were still glued to my crotch, her mouth hanging open.
My tiny little cock. Shit.
“Tony?” I glanced down and realized that my cock was rapidly expanding from a one-inch flop to a six-inch monster as she watched.
“I… I’m sorry. It kind of does that when I… well… whenever I even think about you naked.” At last her eyes rose to meet mine.
“You think about me naked?” I nodded. “That’s so sweet!” She rushed at me and the kiss she planted on my lips this time extended all the way to the back of my throat. My cock was throbbing against her stomach as she pulled back away from me. The first time it had ever actually touched a girl. “Maybe we should wait until it’s dark outside to start painting. So we can control the light better.”
“What should we do till then?” I whispered, touching her lips again.
“We could go unpack our things in the bedroom and see if… the bed… is comfortable.”
“We have a bed right here,” I said, pointing to the draped setting I’d created at the end of the room. She kissed me again and I lifted her, carrying her to the bed I’d set for my painting.
“Tony,” she whispered as I began trailing kisses down her neck and torso. “Oh, Tony. I’ve been hoping for this since we first met. I was so afraid that you didn’t like girls, or that you just didn’t like me.”
“God, Melody. I’m so stupid. I just thought a girl like you… I mean someone who’s so pretty… and smart… and talented… would never be interested in somebody like me. I should have said something, but I was just so busy hating school that I couldn’t imagine you wanted anything more than a lunch partner.” I reached her left nipple and kissed it, caressing it with my tongue. The whimper she made and the pressure of her hand on the back of my head told me I was doing something right. I’d studied all the basic mechanics of the human body as an art student, but I didn’t really have any practical experience when it came to touching one. She pulled at me and lifted my head to return to her lips.
“I want you to explore all my body this weekend and I want to explore you, too, so don’t think I don’t want you to lick me. But what I really want first, is to feel you in me. Tony, before we do anything else, can we just make love?”
“Like I told you, Mel. We can do anything you want.”
“Gently.”
“Melody… I’ve never…”
“Me either. But I really want to. I want you.”
I could feel her fingers wrapped around my penis as she stroked the head up and down her moist slit. The combined fluids quickly coated both of us. She positioned the head against her opening and began pulling me slowly into her. I was holding myself back, afraid I’d hurt her or lose control—not knowing what I was doing and not wanting it to ever end. When I was fully inside her she gasped and locked her lips on mine again. We kissed long and deep, not moving below the waist, but just feeling the magic of being joined together—realizing that in those few moments we’d made the transition and were no longer virgins.
For a moment, I was frozen. No wonder I hated school. It was why I’d never asked Melody out. I’d almost let this beautiful woman pass by. And now, she’d just reached into my heart and started it beating again. We pulled back from our kiss enough to look into each other’s eyes and found that we were both crying. I hugged her, kissed her, wept with her, all the time just joined as deeply as we could get. I didn’t care about having an orgasm. I didn’t care that I was no longer a virgin. All I cared about was that I was so profoundly accepted by this incredible woman. Not just accepted. Loved.
When we finally began to move, sliding together and apart, we kept looking into each other’s eyes and holding each other in awe. We were one. We were all there was in the world. When our orgasms came crashing over us, it was enough to knock us both out. I succeeded in getting an arm under myself so all my weight wouldn’t crush her. With our cheeks pressed tightly against each other, I couldn’t tell if I tasted her tears or my own.
“Wait,” I whispered. “Don’t move.” I’d somehow slid off her, out of her. She still lay sprawled back across the bed. Her left leg was pulled up and leaned close to her outstretched right leg. Her head was thrown back against the pillows and her left arm was raised over her head. Her right hand lay on her stomach, now that I no longer did.
I lit the candles, reached for my sketchbook, and began working furiously. It was perfect—the drapery, the light, the position of the ewer. Her breathing was music to me and I lost myself in the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. Her eyes as she looked at me—their violet depths captured my very soul. I placed a small bunch of grapes in her left hand, dangling above her head. She barely glanced at them. A perfect model. In fifteen minutes, I had captured a sketch that I could transfer to my watercolor board. I was completely in love.
“You know,” she said softly, speaking for the first time since we’d made love. “You’re going to have to do that every time you want me to pose this weekend.”
I figured I could live with that.
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