After the Art Class – Teri

Big Tits

‘Do you fancy a drink?’ It was the end of another art class, the last of that term in fact. Isobel had made her apologies for a quick getaway and I had been hoping she might take me home with her. Perhaps I looked crestfallen. Teri, the model, tapped me on the shoulder. ‘I said, do you fancy a drink?’ ‘I’m really sorry, I didn’t realise you were talking to me.’ She smiled, ‘There’s nobody else here.’ I said that, yes, I’d love a drink and picked up my large portfolio bag and coat and followed her down the stairs from the art class. Teri was tall, maybe six feet and slim with very long, lustrous black hair. She was wearing a long skirt made of a fabric like a tapestry, autumnal shades of green and orange and gold. She had a leather jacket open over a white silk blouse. I’d seen her naked or partially naked so often that somehow this seemed more intimate. That evening we had painted her, under Isobel’s guidance as usual. She had been almost naked. Isobel was, as she often was, exploring the erotic and had posed her on her knees, looking over her shoulder, her knees spread and wearing only a gauzy slip. I thought she probably had it on still. Isobel had told her to remove her knickers and had then pressed the fabric of the slip between her buttocks so that her lips were almost visible. The beginning of her triangle of dark hair was a shadow behind it. Teri’s breasts are larger than mine but not big. They are beautifully shaped and her nipples are dark as chocolate, small but always long. I have never really noticed the woman, only the body. I’d chatted to her in the past but never at length. I wondered why she had asked me for a drink but I was pleased she had. We crossed the road and went into a small pub frequented by students from the college. She acknowledged bahis siteleri a few and seemed never to look back to see if I was still with her. I followed close behind her as she made her way to the bar. She turned then and placed a hand on my shoulder, a curiously possessive gesture to my mind. ‘What would you like? We both settled for a beer and took our glasses to an unoccupied table in a corner of the bar where we could hear each other. She sat beside me, half turned. ‘You paint well. I love the way you paint me.’ ‘Thank you! You’re somehow easy for me to paint.’ She did something with an eyelid that asked a question and I answered it. ‘I like your body, I find it seems to work for my sort of style.’ ‘Can I see what you did tonight?’ I hesitated. It’s not that I don’t like people seeing my work (does ‘work’ sound pretentious?). It was that this piece was very explicit. I’d arched her back more than Teri had and the gauzy slip was more transparent than it actually had been. Her knees were painted further apart and her pussy was far more obvious. I’d also done something to her nipples. Reluctantly I pulled the canvas from my bag and she studied it slowly. ‘Clamped nipples?’ She frowned. ‘Now that I don’t remember. I’m sure I should.’ She smiled at me and I blushed a little. ‘Never be embarrassed by your work. If it’s crap Isobel will tell you. The theme was the erotic and this surely is. Fortunately she had the painting facing away from the other patrons of the pub. ‘May I look through the others?’ The cat was, so to speak, out of the bag now and so I merely nodded consent and she looked through the other canvases, examining each one critically. She was a very experienced model and her opinion mattered to me. She found, behind the last piece, a slip of paper. canlı bahis siteleri I had written some notes which were definitely not for anyone else’s eyes. ‘That’s not for publication,’ I said, and hastily lifted it from the bag, folded it and put it in my pocket where it almost burned against me. Teri looked at me quizzically. I muttered something about innermost thoughts and she smiled. We discussed art, her role as a model and I asked her how she felt about being naked and sometimes very erotically posed as she had been tonight. ‘I was Isobel’s lover for a while. She is a wonderful woman and when we ended it was simply because she is too mercurial and independent to be constrained by a relationship. She isn’t promiscuous, don’t misunderstand me, but she has enormous passion and needs constantly to find new experiences. I couldn’t keep up.’ She laughed. ‘Not for want of trying.’ We both laughed. I wondered if she knew what had happened between Isobel and me but didn’t ask. ‘When we first met I was doing odd modeling jobs for local artists and she got to know me through one of the galleries and asked me if I’d pose for her. I did and she just posed me as she wanted. I didn’t find it embarrassing or anything. Her passion and her disregard for convention is catching, don’t you think.’ The look she gave me then convinced me she did know or suspect that Isobel had had me. There was no other way to describe what had happened between us although, of course, I’d been hoping she would. She leafed through my paintings and drawings again and lingered on the piece I had done that evening. She studied it and smiled at me. ‘Was it you who you were seeing there like that?’ The question stopped me dead. Her hand rested on mine. ‘Don’t be embarrassed.’ Her finger canlı bahis traced the clamp that covered her right nipple in the picture. ‘Pretty aren’t they?’ She put the paintings back in the bag and I asked if she’d like another drink. She said she would and I went through the students to the bar and bought two more. I went back to our table and placed the beer in front of her. She thanked me and, as I sat, moved a little so we were closer. I could feel her hip against me and her arm slid across the back of my chair. Her face came close; not so close that anyone in the bar would think we were lovers but close enough that I could hear when she whispered. ‘If you care, I do know that Isobel and you had a fling. Don’t be upset and don’t expect it to happen again.’ In fact Isobel had almost said that it wouldn’t. ‘And if you’re interested, I’m interested in you.’ Her hand rested on my knee which was covered by my long skirt. ‘Are you interested?’ I almost laughed. I mean, who wouldn’t be interested? She was so tall and slender – almost coltish long legs, and her face was an artist’s delight with its contrasts of dark hair, pale skin, clear white eyes with dark blue pupils. In fact I did laugh and she recoiled slightly. ‘Oh, God, Teri don’t be offended. I was just asking myself who the hell could not be interested in you?’ I leaned away from her but held her hand. ‘You’re stunning and you’re funny and intelligent. I actually thought how could she think I could not be interested?’ She smiled and looked down at our two hands on my knee. ‘Well then, let’s get to know each other, shall we?’ * Teri called me a few days later. ‘Still interested?’ I laughed and said that, yes, I was still interested. ‘Good. Let’s have a curry?’ I agreed immediately and the date and time were set. The Saturday of our date seemed to drag. I did some shopping in the morning and bought myself a new pair of silk French knickers, some silk stockings and a beautiful and far too expensive suspender belt in deep gray with white lace.

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