Drawing From Life

Honey_B

Weaver of Dreams
Joined
May 21, 2001
Posts
2,408
OOC: This thread will explore the evolution of a relationship between a nude model in a figure drawing class and an art student in attendance. Initially the two characters will be seperated by their roles. The artist is there to learn technique, the model to make a quick dollar. Over a series of classes, an attraction grows without a word being spoken. Who knows what happens from there.

Bernadette Pierro has dark hair and eyes that reveal her Italian heritage. She's got a darling little figure as her mother always tells her, but she often hides it behind shapeless dresses or overalls. A freshman in college she is about to attend her first life drawing class.

I shall need someone to take up the part of the model.


Bernadette walked into the empty studio. Not a soul was there yet. Not surpising considering she was twenty minutes early. She considered her choice of seats carefully. Near the stage or in the back? No way did she want to be up front. Not for her first life drawing class. In the back, she'd be under the instructor's scrutiny. She chose a easel in the middle ranks.

She sat down and opened her portfolio, taking out a fresh pad of newsprint, which she set upon the easel. They would be working in charcoal to start so she got out several sticks and set them on the tray. She always broke several whenever she sketched, especially if she was nervous. The black material stuck to her moist fingers and she pulled out a cloth to keep the smudges from her work. Bernadette looked up as other students began to file into the classroom. To her chagrin, none of them looked nearly as nervous as her. She pushed her glasses back up to their proper place on the bridge of her nose and waited for the intructor.

He came in wearing the same clothes he had worn during Introduction to Drawing. Professor Davis always wore black. She tried to focus on the introductory lecture, about what techiniques they would use. All the while, she kept one eye on the door where the model would surely appear. Finally, Professor Davis ended his statements and introduced their subject.
 
OOC...would love to try this role reversal for me if the gender's right and it's okay with you Miss Bee....post will follow shortly.
 

Cormac didn't look Irish, well 'black irish' maybe. His hair was black and curly, his eyes an ebony brown and he had the skin and body of a Portugese fisherman, which in fact was what his father was back in Fall River.
His mother's Boston Irish relatives nearly disowned her when she went away with a dago but at least he was Catholic and he did allow her to name her only son after Grandpa Cormac.
Cormac Jorge Figuera was a hell of a name though.

He didn't mind.
He was a cool breeze.

And the girl's did like him...a lot.

"Hiya Cormac, how they hangin!?"
Mandy Towers was very outspoken and she and he had shared more than their favorite artists together when he began modeling for Davis' classes last year.

A glare from the somber Prof silenced her but didn't silence the expectant murmer from the rest of the coeds in the class. the boys seemed either bored or anxious as they watched him mount the modeling stand, trying hard not to stare.

Cormac appraised the class as he always did, recognizing a few from last year when he was not only a model but a student as well, but most of the rest were strangers...some very pretty ones too.
He flashed his whitest smile to one and all and stripped off the dress shirt he wore above his jeans.
He took good care of his body. His talent was meager, his finances non existant. It had become his one true asset. He wasn't tall, about five foot ten tops but he had the body of a hungry boxer. Not bulked up but sinewy like a wolf. He had a twenty nine inch waist size and was all in all one hundred and seventy pounds of muscle.

"All the way, Professor?"
He looked at Davis, who was standing in the midst of his class, hands on his hips and frowning slightly.

"Yes Mister Figuera, all the way...let's get the shock overwith so we can all get to work."

The class waited on tenterhooks.
 
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Bernadette tried to duck behind the easel when the model entered, Mr. Figuera the professor had called him. It was unfortunate that she had chosen to wear such a long flowing skirt because the material got caught in her feet and she fell into her easel. The world seemed to stand still as she and the stand came down with a crash. The silence that followed was deafening and then was broken by thunderous applause and whistles.

"Thank you for getting that out of the way, Miss Pierro. Someone always tips their easel the first day."

The class broke out into peels of laughter and Bernadette tried not to look at anyone in particular as she untangled herself from her easel. Her charcoal had been pulverized in the crash. As she knelt to get more out of her bag, she caught a glimpse of the model through the strands of her long hair. She brushed her hair back and whispered to herself,

"Oh My God!"

He stood there, a vision of dark masculine beauty. Shirt off, perfectly sculpted chest bared, and staring right at her, an amused smile playing across his sensuous mouth.

Bernadette shut her mouth, which she suddenly realized she had allowed to hang open and dragged her eyes away from his.
 

Bernadotte's calamatous intrusion broke the tension and CJ took advantage of the moment, to slip out of his jeans with a wink in the flustered girl's direction. With her glasses knocked to the end of her nose, he could see her eyes and tell that she was one of the very, very, pretty ones, he'd scoped when he entered the studio.

His back was to the class as he folded his jeans and placed them on the stool.
"He's right, I was the one that knocked it over when Mandy modeled for our class, last year."

That redirected everyones attention to the broad muscled back, narrow waist, rock tight buttocks and powerful thighs of the Latin Adonis on the modeling stand.

"In your dreams CJ!"
Miss Towers reply, broke up the class and order was finally restored when Professor Davis walked up to his model, who was still standing with his back to what had once again become his eager audience, and spoke...

"Cormac."

"Yes sir"

"Are you ready to earn your pay?"

"Yes sir."

"Then let's turn around and give these girls and boys an eyeful.
It's time to talk anatomy."

Cormac as expected was as perfectly muscled across the front as across the back.
From behind the easel where Bernadette was once again hiding she thought he looked remarkably like Michelangelo's David in tones of tan and olive. Right down to the thick latent serpent between his legs.

She blushed...
Mandy Towers all but drooled.
 
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