For a mature audience
A girlfriend of mine whom I had not seen in a while contacted me and invited me to lunch. After a lovely meal, she asked if I would accompany her to an art studio where she was picking up a painting. Given that I am now trying to be more spontaneous, I agreed. I relish days leisurely spent going about life without any scheduled plans. It feels freeing to be open to any new events that pop up.
The owner of the studio greeted us at the door. He was an older gentleman, but quite energetic and full of life. Being a true artist, he welcomed us in and then was quickly distracted by something else. He asked my girlfriend to show me around. The studio was incredibly large, with paintings on shelves from floor to ceiling. His work was beautiful, a surrealistic style that celebrated the sensuality and beauty of a woman . As we were perusing, my friend explained that the artist draws all the women nude on a blank white canvas. Afterwards he determines what colors, theme, and clothing the models should have on. He builds his art from ground up. My friend turned to me and asked if I would ever pose nude for a painting. I said I had never done it before but could be open to it. She confided that she was contemplating yet was unsure. She admitted that she had asked me to come because the artist had suggested she model for him, yet she was hesitant.
My friend is gorgeous and successful. She has a strong personality, is no-nonsense, and has never been shy or indecisive. This was a side of her I had not seen.
She walked us to where the artist was immersed in his latest work and stated that I would model for him. That statement seemed to shake him out of his zone. He looked up and asked enthusiastically how big my breasts, areolas, and nipples were. I answered all three questions. Then he asked to see them. That is when I blushed and said no. I thought I was ready, but apparently I was not as free-spirited as I thought.
I believe my interaction emboldened my friend, because she went to his bar, downed a shot of tequila, and undressed. I was surprised yet very proud of her. Her courage was admirable. The artist abandoned his work, and got a new large blank canvas. He turned on the stereo to blues music and began prepping. He instructed my friend to walk closer, turn her back, and look at him from the corner of her eyes with a coy smile. She did as he requested and he began to create his art. I watched transfixed this peaceful yet sensual scene before me. There was such a pleasant energy exchange between the artist and his muse. As I continued watching, I noticed a swing that hung behind where my friend stood posing. I went over, got on it, and slowly pushed myself back and forth, enjoying the music and ambiance. My action however stopped the artist in mid work. He frowned and walked towards me. I held my breath worrying that I interrupted his moment. He took the swing seat in both hands and told me to undress. I felt nervous yet his eyes calmed me. I sensed something had inspired him further. I cautiously took off my top, biting my lip. He told me to continue and remove my skirt and panties. I did with one hand as I held on to the rope with the other hand, never breaking eye contact with him. When I was completely naked, he pulled the seat towards him while moving backwards and then he let go.
I was flying nude.
He returned to his work, drawing furiously as I swung back and forth, head tilted back laughing while my friend stood near smiling at my childlike abandon. We were kids again at the playground, free of our adult restrictions and boundaries.