Rhapsody Suite

Twenty-two

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WHEN I RETURNED TO THE LOWER LEVEL bearing two bottles of Prosecco, a bottle of peach juice, and the required ten glasses, the first thing I noticed was that no one had dressed. At least not in clothes. Melody had produced a dozen strips of fabric and the girls were busy draping them partially over their bodies, apparently making sure that their most delectable bits stayed exposed. The tableau setting had been rearranged and it looked like they were getting ready for another sketch. I groaned inwardly. I’d worked for two and a half hours on the last one and I couldn’t believe the girls wanted to go through the agony of posing again.

The girls descended on me as I poured the Bellinis. Each one coyly took the cocktail and kissed me on the cheek, including Melody and Lissa. I poured my own and we raised a toast.

“Here’s to all our new friends and models,” Melody said.

“Here’s to naked art parties,” Bree seconded. Everyone laughed.

“No kidding,” Sonia added. “I’ve never been to a naked slumber party before. If you’re naked at an athletic party, you’re in deep shit.”

“There’s only one problem,” Lissa said. Everyone looked at her expectantly. “Someone here is way overdressed.” Everyone turned to me. I know I got red. My erection hadn’t completely died from the last round of getting kissed. It had been all I could do to keep my hands still.

“Ohhhh,” I groaned. “Is this going to be another ‘embarrass Tony’ moment?”

“Just go behind the curtain like a good art model and get undressed. Then come back out here and we’ll get you in costume,” Melody said.

“These sheets are costumes?”

“You’ll see.”

I obediently went back behind the drapes and shed my sweats. That took about a second. I looked down at my cock. It didn’t make any difference if it was up or down; I was going to be embarrassed. Oh well. I took another drink and walked out as casually as I could.

They didn’t stare. Well, not all of them. At least not all at once. Melody and Lissa came over and held out a length of red fabric. They draped it over my right shoulder so that it hung down to the top of my right thigh. Like the girls, however, it didn’t really cover anything. Everyone examined it critically and then Amy stepped over and pulled it down a little further until it came to about mid-thigh. I was a little nervous when Sandra approached with a pair of scissors, but she stepped behind me and cut off the back of the fabric at the same length as the front. I don’t think anyone noticed that the whole time she was supposedly cutting the fabric, she had one hand squeezing my bare ass.

Two strips were cut from the scrap and Allison grabbed one to tie the sheet in a bunch at my shoulder. Kate brought the other one and put it around my waist. She was enjoying rubbing my skin front and back, too, and it was becoming obvious that I was enjoying it. Her nipples lightly brushed across my arm and my erection came to full attention.

“Hey Melody, does that thing ever go down?” Bree asked.

“Not if you don’t fuck with it,” Melody answered promptly. This elicited a bunch of groans, including one from me.

“Okay,” Sandra said as she tugged me toward the rearranged daybed. “This is scene two.” She pushed me down on the bed. For a minute I thought she was going to jump on top of me, but she restrained herself.

“I can’t draw if I’m in the scene,” I said matter-of-factly. Certainly, they would see the logic of that statement.

“Are you totally oblivious to the fact that there are four other artists in this room?” Amy demanded. “Come on, Tony. We need a model for our portfolios, too.”

“If you draw me with an erection, they won’t let you enter it in the student exhibition, so just settle down, okay?” I laughed. Okay, I was on this side of the easel again. That’s where this adventure started, if I remembered correctly. But the likelihood that my boner was going away anytime soon was pretty remote. After Sandra got me pretty much in place—facing the opposite direction that Kate had been—Allison slid her pretty ass in under my head. I was suddenly looking up at her very erect nipple.

“Get your tongue in your mouth, Tony,” Lissa laughed. “Just because she kisses like me, doesn’t mean she is me.”

Oh geez! Things got harder, so to speak, when Wendy stretched out behind me on the bed and was propped up on various pillows. Her head was up against Allison, so her boobs were pretty much in my ear.

“Better view than last Friday?” she whispered.

“I’m finding it hard to believe you’re here doing this,” I answered.

“For real. I thought I was just kidding around and teasing a nice young guy while his girlfriend’s back was turned. Then she calls me and says I need to do this. What could I say?”

“Which one?”

“Melody. She invited me over to see the mural you painted before she asked me to come and pose. Wow.”

“Glad you came?”

“I haven’t yet, but if you move your elbow a little, I might.”

I looked up past Allison’s boob at Wendy’s face and both girls broke up laughing.

“Tony, no tickling the models,” Amy said as she positioned Sonia. Sonia sat on the end board of the bed leaning across Allison’s left shoulder so she could see me.

Finally, Kate got Bree settled in front of me in a mirror reflection of where she was in the first sketch. She was leaning on me with her arm crooked across my thigh looking directly up past my cock at me. When I looked at her she pointedly looked at my cock and then licked her lips. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Then the damn girl blew on me.

“Behave yourself!” I reproached her quietly. She just grinned at me.

After a few more minutes, the artists agreed upon where each person should be looking and the reference photo was taken. I was definitely going to get a print of that for my private collection.

“Hmm. Four artists. Five models. No waiting. The room is full,” Lissa said. “I think that leaves me to go make arrangements for dinner.”

“You can’t get dressed, though,” Melody yelled.

“Yes, dear,” she laughed. “May I put a robe on when the delivery boy gets here?”

“I suppose, but you should check to see if he’s cute, first,” Melody teased.

“Or she,” Amy yelled.

“Ladies, can we draw now?” Kate interjected. There was sudden silence in the room. I looked at the artists at work and wondered what our scene looked like through their eyes. Kate had positioned herself so she was looking directly at me. She glanced over at the other artists. Her eyes came back to mine and she made the familiar gesture once again. Look at me.

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Somehow, we made it through another hour-and-a-half of posing and sketching. I’d say it was boring, but really… I was lying back pillowed on two beautiful breasts with a third poised directly over me and a sexy redhead who was reminding me of her presence every few minutes by sending a short puff of air over my cock and balls. Said appendage finally deflated for about ten minutes during which time all the artists hurried to draw it while it wasn’t pretending to be a flagpole.

When the drawings were finished, we all got to tour the results. They were pretty impressive. Sandra had a distinctive style. She loves to cover her coarsely textured paper with graphite and then use an eraser and tortillon to bring out the highlights. As a result, her images seem to appear out of the shadows. Her finished sketch was a real work of art. We were all impressed.

Melody and Amy both talk about how drawing isn’t really their thing. They’re both into graphics. But what they produced proved that good advertising still depended on good artwork. Melody’s was a simple drawing with good detail that I was pretty sure she’d render in acrylics or pastels later. Amy had gone straight to bold watercolor markers and it looked like it was ready to put in a catalog. Kate’s style is tightly controlled. She draws small things big. I’m sure that if she set her mind to it, she could make a drawing look like a photograph. The amount of detail she’d put in her drawing in the two hours we were working was astounding. And it was just my face. Not even my whole face. Pretty much just my eyes, nose, and forehead. It wasn’t just a technical masterpiece. It really had feeling. I could imagine that when Doc saw this piece he might regret having chosen me for the mural instead of Kate. I studied the drawing for quite a while, just absorbing what she had done.

When I looked up, she was standing right beside me. She met my eyes and I sensed that she was waiting for what I would say. I must have looked a little worried.

“Kate, this is really good. Are you going to paint it?”

“No. I don’t think so. I’m just going to finish it the way it is or use it as the basis for a charcoal and pastel.”

“You should display it in the student exhibition. This will blow everything away.”

“Well, not everything.” I think she blushed, as if praise from me was something special. Hell, anyone could see how outstanding this piece was. We were going to have to get past the hero worship someplace along the line. I didn’t know what else to say, and while I was thinking about it, my eyes absently traveled over the artist instead of the artwork.

God, she was beautiful. Her toga sheet was worn as a sash over her left shoulder. It passed between her breasts and was tied at her right hip. She’d tied a cord around it just below the knot so the ends hung straight down in a tight bunch along her right leg. Her breasts were firm and round, high on her chest with dark nipples and areolae that were slightly oval instead of perfectly round. Her black hair was pulled back in her usual ponytail, tied with a bit of gold cord. She was long in the torso and it seemed like it took forever to scan down from her breasts, past her navel, and on to her mound. Like so many of the girls, she shaved most of her pussy, but left a perfect rectangular patch of short black hair that was just as wide as I imagined her opening would be if I was licking it.

“Seen enough yet?” she asked softly. I looked back up to her eyes. There was a bit of color in her cheeks and I realized I’d been practically examining her.

“Not really,” I said. “I want to draw you.”

“I think you did. Twice.”

“I want to do it again.”

“Why?”

“I want to memorize you.” As soon as I said it, I was afraid I’d gone way too far. What was I, an artist/stalker? Her breath was ragged as she inhaled.

“I don’t think we can do that right now,” she said. “We’re supposed to be eating dinner.” Indeed, there were cartons of Chinese food being opened and everyone had paper plates. Lissa made tea and everyone realized how famished they were after the day’s posing and sketching. My stomach was growling as well. I turned with Kate to join the group at the table.

“Soon, Kate,” I said.

 
 

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