The Snags of Being a Nude Art Model

Four

Creep

Radiohead

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

Professor Brown seemed way too excited when Chloe entered the classroom this evening, the man grinning proudly to himself. With only five minutes until the start of the session, however, Chloe decided not to question it.

The professor introduced a new model as Chloe set up his supplies, arranging his tools neatly on the easel. She wasn't particularly looking forward to the class today. The mood to draw something complicated and intriguing struck her, and she doubted today's model would prove to be much inspiration.

Once Professor Brown announced the first thirty second pose,Chloe peered up to assess his subject. She hummed in surprise as she took in a fit and muscular back, thin waist, and sculpted ass. It seemed like the professor finally managed to find a new body type for him to draw.

She started tracing an outline of the model, nothing too complicated since the guy chose a basic and predictable pose. He appeared to just be standing there, feet hip-width apart and arms hidden, most likely crossed over his chest. While this stance would usually annoy the hell out of Chloe-how hard was it to come up with a unique pose? - she at least had something new to draw.

Muscles.

Muscles coated this guy, running up his legs, over his ass, and throughout his back. Chloe didn't see his front yet, but she'd guess the guy had a six pack as well.

She had a vague sketch of the model when the professor called out the next pose. The guy on the dais didn't change direction; he simply put one hand on his hip while the other arm remained hidden. His weight shifted slightly, causing the muscles in his ass to flex. It was a nice effect and Chloe got to work capturing it.

They went through three more rounds of this, the model remaining stiff the entire time. Judging by the rigid set of his back and lack of creative poses, the guy was probably a first timer.

That's when the story started to piece together in Chloe's mind.

She imagined the guy was an athlete who attended this university, playing some physically exerting sport. Maybe this was a dare, accepted when he was drunk out of his mind. The task would only be complete if he could share a drawing of his naked body with his dumb athlete friends.

She quite liked that story and she chuckled in amusement.

When they finally reached the minute-long poses, the model turned to the right. That's when Chloe saw it.

His arm.

From the guy's shoulder all the way down to his knuckles, black tattoos decorated the expanse of skin. Images that were too tough to make out from this far away were a stark contrast to the tanned skin of the model. They wove over his bicep and around his forearm, not leaving many empty spaces. The tattoos were everywhere, separated yet interlinked.

Chloe sat in awe, the charcoal pencil forgotten in his hand. She wanted to see the tattoos up close and explore these drawings set in ink. Tattoos weren't a foreign concept to her, but no one in his social circle had any. His parents and their stuck up friends tended to associate tattoos with a lower class, saying the ink was trashy and not true art.

She never put much thought into that before, but in this moment she knew they were wrong.

Those tattoos were real art.

Her eyes continuously roamed up and down that damn arm, her current task forgotten. The sound of Professor Brown announcing more sessions was far off and muted, blending into the mellow tones of the music being played. Chloe didn't know how many sets she missed, but she didn't care.

All she could focus on was that damn arm.

Finally, the professor announced the start of the first thirty minute session. Chloe shook his head, a bit embarrassed she stared at the model's tattooed arm for almost twenty five minutes. It helped, of course, that the guy didn't really move. His poses were stiff and completely uninspired.

It was a good thing Chloe was too preoccupied by a single limb, otherwise she would've chewed the model out for not doing something different.

The model turned to face Chloe, settling into an awkward stance that she'd never be able to hold for thirty minutes. But instead of groaning at her lack of luck - again - for getting the model's front for half an hour, she was weirdly happy. That just meant more time to look at all of the tattoos.

Chloe's eyes locked on the ink once more, never wavering to any other part of the model's body. She supposed she should start drawing soon; after all, she was the one who requested such a challenge.

But she was distracted from her study as she noticed the guy's arm start to shake. He was holding it away from his body, his torso twisted and his knees locked. In other words, he was a complete amateur and wouldn't last five minutes in such a position.

Deciding he really needed to get to work, Chloe cleared his throat. "That pose isn't working. I'm going to fix you."

The model looked up, big eyes briefly making contact with hers. He nodded his head, black hair flopping on his forehead. His cheeks were red, but he straightened up and rolled his shoulders back.

Chloe decided to use this to her advantage and create a pose she actually wanted to draw. "Lie down. Extend your tattooed arm over your head while the other rests on your stomach. Bend one knee, extend the other."

The boy - he couldn't have been older than Chloe based on those doe eyes - quickly got into his version of the pose. A couple other students tweaked his movements, having him shift so he was now propped up on his unmarked arm. Thankfully the tattoos were still visible to Chloe, making the ending position suitable enough to draw.

She reluctantly removed her gaze from the model's arm and scanned over his body.

And she froze.

There used to be an old saying by a foreign philosopher that said the human body is the best picture of the human soul.

This model - what was his name again? - had a body like Chloe had never seen before. It was a work of art, begging to be drawn out and captured for all of eternity by his hands. As Chloe expected, muscles rippled over the boy's abdomen, flexing with every small movement. The lights highlighted each and every swell and dip, making Chloe question how it would feel to run her hands over the skin. She'd never seen a torso so fascinating. Even the red, angry scar slicing inelegantly across his ribcage was appealing.

Out of curiosity, she let her gaze drop south - purely for artistic reasons, of course.

Impressive.

And the guy's legs. Damn, those thighs. How would she be able to capture the definition of those muscles properly?

It was almost like Michaelangelo's David had come to life,

sauntered into this very classroom, and was offering up his exquisite body to be drawn by Chloe.

What was this magic? Bodies never inspired him before, they weren't beautiful or pieces of art.

But now...

Holy f**k, but now.

Finally, Chloe looked up to the boy's face. Wide, dark eyes were staring directly back at him.

Chloe's fingers loosened and her pencil fell to the ground. She bent to pick it up, stalling in order to give her cheeks some time to cool. What was happening to him? She'd never studied a model so intently before, let alone get caught staring.

It was like she was the amateur now.

When she was righted in her seat, Chloe finally started drawing the image of the boy in front of him. Every so often, she'd flit her eyes upward to reference a particular shape or line. The model's gaze remained downcast, probably reluctant to look up in Chloe's direction.

She spent the rest of the session struggling to get everything perfect. What typically was quite easy for her now proved to be the exact opposite.

She spent too much time on the shape of the boy's shoulders and not enough time drawing his legs. Time was called before she had a finished product.

Frustration rose up in her, but she pushed it to the side. They still had one more pose to get through.

The next pose - which the students placed the model in - had the boy on his back, weight resting on his elbows. He looked up towards the bright lights, eyes closed.

Chloe didn't fare much better this time. While she moved at a quicker pace than before, she got caught up tracing over the model's profile. Strong nose and jaw, parted lips, long neck. His hair brushed against his temples, and Chloe's hand twitched in a need to push it back. She wanted to see more of the boy's face.

The model looked so at peace, so utterly content and still, that Chloe wanted to peer into his mind and see what sort of thoughts filled his head.

This sketch was left unfinished when Professor Brown announced their class was done for the day. Chloe sat back, heavily critiquing her drawing. When had she ever let a mere model distract her from her work before?

Never, that's when.

It was just because the physique of this guy was completely unexpected, Chloe rationalized. If the model ever deigned to come back, she'd do better. She wouldn't stare down the poor boy... Chloe would actually produce art.

After her materials were packed up, she noticed the model was nowhere to be found. Good. She wanted to slip out unnoticed, especially considering the awkward moment when she was caught drooling.

Staring. She was caught staring.

That wasn't much better.

But she couldn't flee the room fast enough. Professor Brown was waving him over.

"Chloe!" The older man called to him. "How about today's model? Was this the sort of challenge you wanted?"

Chloe gave a curt nod without saying anything else. She didn't want the professor to ask to see her drawings. The man would be disappointed for sure.

"Cal here, needs a bit of work with his poses, of course, but that's coachable. Shall we have him back?" Professor Brown waited for a response, hands on his hips. But Chloe was a bit distracted.

Cal. So that was his name.

The professor blew air out of his mouth, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer. His hands started reaching for Chloe's canvases, but luckily- or maybe unluckily - they were interrupted.

"Um, hi, Professor."

Chloe turned to see the boy - Cal - standing behind her, fully dressed in oversized and worn streetwear. She ripped his eyes away.

They were standing so close to each other.

"Night, Professor," Chloe said, speeding out of the room with haste. She needed to get home and debrief. She had to figure out what the hell her reaction was tonight because that sort of thing didn't happen to her.

She was never intrigued by anyone.

Not anymore.