ONE AND DONE. Or so I thought.

[holeinjola]

This series is great. Keep it going!

[FunKelly]

I made my way through town to the last traffic light I would see, before entering the final three mile stretch of back country roads that led to our little dead-end street. I pulled up the picture that Francesca and I both agreed was the best and put my phone in my car's cell phone holder. There I was, dumbfounded and naked in the community college hallway, seemingly staring back at myself, as if to ask, "How did you get 'Us' into such a mess?" I often wondered how these women I see on the internet, find themselves in these 'Nude in Public predicaments. They are usually completely naked in some public location, surrounded by clothed people. In most cases they are clearly humiliated and often times, seem somewhat traumatized by their present situations.

I was now realizing how, the smallest turn of events, can quickly spiral out of control and lead to 'Emotionally Unbearable Circumstances'. If fact, I was being reminded by my naked self, staring at me from my cell phone, that I was in one of those 'Emotionally Unbearable Circumstances', right now! I continued on with my drive home, daydreaming about the 'Humiliation', 'Sense of Vulnerability' and the 'Sexual Stimulation' of the afternoon's events. I must have driven almost a mile, before I realized that my fingers had made their way under my dress, down into my panties and were now massaging my clit, as I made my way home. The mountain of shame I had thrusted upon myself, was being pushed to the side by the bewildered naked girl on my phone, who seem to be saying, "You owe me an orgasm Jenifer, for all the shame and humiliation you have put me through today!"

I was soaking wet, when I turned onto our dead-end street. I had to swerve to keep from running off the road, but continued rubbing my clit, feeling obligated to give myself an orgasm. I was driving at 15 MPH, scanning the street for anyone, I thought might ascertain what I was actually doing, yet never diminishing the fervor in which I was rubbing my clitoris. I pulled into my driveway utterly satisfied, but also a sticky mess. Once my orgasm was realized, the thoughts, ideas and fantasies, that had allowed it to occur, were long gone, and I was left with nothing but the utter shame of my behavior. I started to panic, as I looked into my rear-view mirror. Paul was coming down our street, and my fingers and panties were soaked with my own cum. I got out of my car, gave him a casual wave, as he pulled his car up next to mine, then I headed into our house.

Paul had followed me in the front door, and asked, "Well. How did it go?", as he put down his golf clubs. I had no idea where to start, so I just replied, "It was fine. A little embarrassing being nude in front of the four student artists, but I guess you get used to it", as I searched for any reason to go upstairs and discard the panties that had the proof of my depravity, smeared all across them. "Were you totally naked?", Paul asked, with 'Way' too much exuberance, for my liking! I turned my head towards him, hoping my sundress was keeping any evidence of my recent orgasm concealed, while rolling my eyes, and responding, "Yes Paul. It was a 'Life Modeling' class, so I was naked". I then turned back around, as a sense of relief came over me. I now realized how sexually excited Paul was, as he questioned me about my first 'Life Modeling' session. I thought by him being preoccupied by his little fantasies, I could navigate through the rough waters of the truths and half-truths, I would reveal to him.

"So, Jen! How were you told to pose?", he asked, with the same exuberance in his tone, as he had when he asked me if I was 'Totally Naked! I watched him desperately attempting to appear uninterested, while a slight bulge was forming in his golf shorts. I recognized my chance, and asked, "Paul. Would you like to see how I posed?", with the slightest of sensual tones in my voice. He immediately exclaimed, "Yes! Yes, I would!" I quickly grabbed his hand and led him to the living room. "Take off your clothes", I said, with total authority. Paul was only too happy to oblige and was naked in seconds. "Now Paul. Sit in the armchair', I instructed. He followed my every instruction to the letter, still waiting to see or hear, what position I had been in, during the modeling session.

I glanced at Paul, and said, "Don't move a muscle. I'll be right back", as I ran up the stairs to the second floor. I kicked off my sandals, through my dress, soiled panties and bra, into the laundry hamper, grabbed a white sheet from our linen closet, and headed back downstairs, knowing I would have to explain my bald pussy, to my husband sooner or later. I walked over to Paul, placed his feet and hands as Keven's were place for our pose. I then used the sheet as a toga, placing it on Paul, much as Kevin's toga had been placed on him. The only clear difference was Paul's erection of course. I stood back a foot or so, placing my hands on my hips, appearing to be studying my 'Life Model' arrangement, when Paul asked, "What happened to your pubic hair? Did you shave your pussy?" That was the moment, I should have won an Oscar!

I casually looked down at my clean-shaven mound, and said, "Oh yeah. I almost forgot. Mrs. Slate, the seventy-year-old art instructor of our class today, thought it would be best if I removed my pubic hair, to accommodate the theme of the pose". Paul's erection almost punctured through the clean white sheet, when he asked me, while making every attempt not to appear too anxious, if not also trying to appear a bit nonchalant. "You didn't shave your pussy, right there in front of them? Did you?", he asked, hoping I might reply, "Yes". To Paul's disappointment, I looked down at him, and replied, "I have no idea what's come over you lately Paul, but 'NO' I didn't. Kevin did not have my phone number, so he had Sue call me about the last-minute personal grooming detail. I shaved my vagina in our bathroom, before I left for the college. Now let's try to get back to the theme of the pose, as I repositioned his toga.

I then went on to tell Paul, about Mrs. Slate's description of the wealthy Roman citizen and his young female house servant, who was attempting to gain his favor in hopes of elevating her own social status. Knowing Paul had a degree in history, I shouldn't have been surprised, when he said, "That's how it was you know! The smartest thing a servant girl could do in 1st century Rome, was to get pregnant by her master. She and the child would be well taken care of, while his wife would have no say in the matter whatsoever, if she valued her own social status!" I walked up to Paul, placed my hands on his cheeks and tilted his head, as Kevin's had been during this afternoon's session. I then took my position, but with my legs a bit closer together than they had been this afternoon, and nonchalantly said, "This is how we posed for the class, Paul. Just like this", as I could feel his left knee and right hand, through the sweat of my palms, while his erection was making a tent out of the white sheet laid across it.

I stood up, attempting to portray an attitude of indifference toward the fact that I had just posed nude for an art class, for the first time. Paul on the other hand was ecstatic to have the opportunity to visualize his "Look but Don't Touch" fantasy, concerning the exhibition of his wife's tiny naked frame. He jumped up and placed the sheet on the chair, much as it had been when draped across his left shoulder and lap, and said, "Jen! Bend over and put your hands on the arms of the chair!" "WHAT?", I shrieked. "Oh, come on!", he snarled back. "I just want the same perspective, the artists had! Purely for scientific purposes, I assure you", he said, standing there naked, sporting a full erection and unable to contain his excitement.

"Well, my dear husband! Shouldn't you know where the artists were positioned, if you are truly researching my first nude pose, as a 'Life Model', for the purpose of science, as you say?", I asked, with a naughty tone. His expression said it all. I pointed out where the four student artists were seated while they were drawing, and retook my position, this time spreading my legs as they had been in the class. Paul stood right behind me. If we were back in the classroom, he would have been between the two artists closest to the center of the half circle. Both of those student artists were girls, since the one male art student, was positioned to my left, allowing him an unobstructed view of my tiny size 'A' breasts, erect nipples, along with the left side of my naked body.

Mentally and emotionally engulfed in the salacious memories from my afternoon of 'Art' and 'Debauchery', I held my pose, not realizing the room had become eerily quiet. When I came out of my little fog, I immediately picked up on the familiar sound of my husband masturbating. I held fast in my pose, and asked, in an inquisitive tone, "Honey. What are you doing?", while holding my position and thinking to myself, "If Paul can ejaculate, his mind will be clearer, so I'll be able to talk to him about Felix Laconia's offer to pose for him". "Nothing honey! Just hold still!", he answered. Knowing Paul had a direct view of my bald pussy lips, bare butt cheeks and the gap between my thighs, I knew he would be done soon, so I continued to hold my pose.

Sensing Paul had finished gratifying himself after hearing his sigh of relief, I stood up, and turned around, only to discover my husband looking immensely satisfied, with a crooked smile on his face. "Feel better?", I asked. He just nodded and kept on smiling. "O.k. my horny, wealthy Roman citizen, I want you to focus. I need to talk to you about a request I received today, to pose again. Paul immediately gave me his full attention, as I told him about meeting with the Sullivans and my short facetime interview, with the supposedly well-known artist, Felix Laconia. I was taken back when Paul said, "Felix Laconia! The Felix Laconia! The world-famous Italian painter and sculptor, wants you to pose for him in San Franscico next month?" I just meekly nodded, "Yes".

Paul seemed bewildered, as I explained the details of the afternoon, that led up to my invitation to model for Felix, at his upcoming exhibition. I wasn't quite sure how he was taking the news, when he blurted out, "Jen! You have to do it! We're talking Felix Laconia here!" Paul grabbed his laptop and we sat at the kitchen table, looking up any and all information we could find on the European artist. We came across a wealth of articles and websites documenting his forty plus year career. We also stumbled across some photos of Felix painting his 'Life Models' at a few of his public exhibitions. Seeing the girls naked among dozens and dozens of dressed spectators at the events, was daunting to say the least. I could tell Paul was getting sexually excited again, as I was feeling overwhelmed with anxiety as I looked at the girls, who appeared so helpless and vulnerable, in front of the large crowds of fully clothed onlookers.

I left out a few minor details of my recollection of the afternoon's events, as I told Paul about my first 'Life Modeling' experience. The lack of available robes for Kevin and me, for one. I didn't know how Paul would react to the idea of his wife being completely naked for the entire two plus hours of the class, even while she was on break. There were also my naked little walks in the hallway with the Sullivans, some while the three male maintenance workers were mopping the floors only a few yards away from us. And of course, the incident where Francesca caught me wondering around by the staircase, and took those naked pictures of me, she was now using for blackmail purposes.

I was quietly admitting to myself, that my ill-advised lack of discretion this afternoon was completely inappropriate. Yet I found the most salacious of my hidden secrets from the modeling session, was the state of total arousal that came with the experience. The feelings of shame and humiliation, accompanied by the awareness of my complete state of my vulnerability, along with a vigorous sense of empowerment, combined for an emotional roller coaster that was unmatched, unless you are naked and surrounded by fully clothed people. The sensation was intoxicating! "That was all well and good for a small class environment in a local community college classroom", I thought to myself, "but posing for Felix Laconia in San Francsico, was something else altogether". I had an ominous feeling as I looked at the photos of the nude life models, seeming so utterly powerless and exposed, as Felix painted their forms in such large and crowded venues.

I started to get cold feet, even with the knowledge that I had the support of my husband, Mrs. Slate and the Sullivans. Paul could tell by my somber expression, and my inability to pull my gaze from the photos of the life models in the public exhibitions, that my mind was racing, and I was having serious doubts about posing for Felix. He got up from the table, rubbed my bare back, and said, "Regardless of what others think or say, Jen, you have to decide what's best for you", as he kissed me on my head and left me alone in the kitchen, to work it out for myself. I was startled by an incoming text message. It was Francesca, asking, "Well? Have you posted your 'Naked Ass' on the internet yet? People want to see that deliciously bald pussy of yours and those fantastic nipples! Hurry and send me the website address!"

Paul had gotten dressed and came back into the kitchen. "Jen. I've got to go get more charcoal for the grill, so we can heat up last night's leftovers. Be back soon", he said, as he headed out the front door. I suddenly remembered something Mrs. Slate had said, when Francesca was snapping those compromising photos, of my 'Naked Ass' as she had put it several times. I texted her back, saying, "Maybe I should notify your boss about how you broke the rules concerning cell phones usage at the college", figuring that would get her to back off. Her reply was swift and brutal! "The cell phone rule prohibits the use of cell phones in a classroom while a life modeling class is in session. The 'Tramp' I took photos of earlier today, was parading her 'Naked Ass' around the very public hallway and staircase areas of the college, for no other reason than her own sexual gratification!"

"Now since you have questioned my integrity, Jenifer", she continued. "You have until 12:00 tomorrow afternoon, instead of the 6:00 p.m. deadline we agreed upon, to post every one of those photos. Meet me at noon in my classroom tomorrow, with the web address, or I will circulate those pictures so close to home, that anyone you may run into while you're in town, may have already seen what a 'Vulgar Slut' you really are! GOT IT! ... Now. Do as I say, and I will delete the pictures from my phone, as promised, right in front of you tomorrow when we meet. Have a nice evening, SLUT!" I had no response. Just tears, as I came to the only possible solution. I had to find some obscure website and post the incriminating photos of me. Almost anyone from town who might discover them, will realize I am naked in the hallway of the local community college, portraying me as the town degenerate!

Knowing the store Paul was going to was about a half hour round trip from our house, I frantically pulled up my search engine and typed in, "GOT CAUGHT NAKED". There were dozens of pages with at least ten sights available from each page. I skipped to page thirty and started to scan my available options. My eyes immediate stopped scanning and dialed into a site that caught my attention. "This Can't be Happening" was the name of the sight. It seemed perfect considering the situation I was in. Under the name was a description, that said, "Hundreds of photos of people caught naked in public!" I went to the site and gave it a quick look over. As advertised, there were hundreds of photos. Many of the pictures were from as far back as ten to twenty years ago. The photos were mostly of women naked and covering up in shame, often in a public party atmosphere with friends. To my relief the last post was over two years ago.

I figured this was going to be the best I could hope for, no matter how many sites I visited. Still sitting naked at our kitchen table, I pulled up the "SUBMIT PHOTOS" link on the sight, closed my eyes and hit the "SEND" button on my phone. It felt like an eternity for all the pictures to upload, as I kept my eye on the front door, expecting Paul at any time. Once the upload was complete, I deleted the pictures from my phone, destroying the evidence of my afternoon of depravity. I ran up to our bedroom and pulled out my laptop and went directly to the website. I was crushed to see the words, "NEW POST!" strewn across the screen in bright red letters. As soon as I clicked the 'ENTER' button, I found half the screen was dedicated to my new post. If anyone even stumbles across the website, my naked photos were there to greet them.

I surveyed the file containing the 31, small icons of my naked body, taken when I was caught red-handed parading around the hallway and exposing myself, as Francesca had suggested, which I also knew to be the truth. I clicked on photo #1 and took my first glance at the bewilderment in the eyes of the totally naked girl I was looking at, who once again seemed to be looking back at me. I was still naked and sitting on the end of our bed, looking at the photos on my laptop, when I became immediately captivated by the images, and found my fingers between my thighs once again. There I was! Totally Naked, without so much as a single pubic hair for cover. My first pornographic internet post, and I came off looking like a confused twelve-year-old, prepubescent naked girl, but I knew that was me on the screen! That was me! I was 'Naked on the Internet'! THE WORLD WIDE WEB! I could hardly believe it! I became soaking wet in seconds.

The thought of the unimaginable humiliation of being discovered in such shameless circumstances, by someone I knew, had also become the source of my immeasurable sexual stimulation. I was feeling utterly ashamed yet willfully defiant, so I sent Francesca a text. "The pictures are posted! See you at noon tomorrow". I went through the photos one by one, and over and over, often stopping at the picture Francesca and I agreed was the best one. The last photo in the set depicted the mental anguish, personal indignity and public degradation I was experiencing at that moment, perfectly. "SHAME" was the unwritten theme behind the entire collection of pictures. The sound of Paul's car pulling into the driveway, interrupted my little 'Posting Party', and I would have to resume examining my first pornographic website post later.

[FunKelly]

I put on my robe and returned to the kitchen, before Paul entered the house. His laptop was still open to the photos of Felix, who was painting the female life models, at his very public exhibitions. I was just happy to see him walk in with some beer and wine, along with the charcoal he originally went out for. Paul didn't bring up my life modeling invitation from Felix, and neither did I. I poured myself a glass of wine to help calm my nerves, as the events of the weekend were starting to catch up with me. Paul grabbed a beer, put the rest in the fridge, and took the charcoal out to the grill, as I followed with last night's leftovers. I placed the tray off food on the picnic table, then returned to the kitchen.

I was sipping my wine at the kitchen table, when I received a text notification on my phone. I immediately thought it was Francesca, wanting the website address where my naked photos had been posted. I was stunned to read, "You have new comments posted to your recent photo submittal". OMG! I looked out the window to see Paul lighting the charcoal grill and pulled up the message. My anxiety level hit an all-time high, as another of my day's humiliating ordeals, had just been revealed to anyone who had Wi-Fi! The utter shame that had enveloped me, was indescribable! I read the first comments ever to be posted about my naked body on the internet, now that nude photos of me were permanently uploaded, for all to see.

...."AUTHENTIC! That's the only way to describe this post! The expression on the girl's face illustrates the genuine surprise, shame and humiliation she is experiencing, at the hands of the photographer! Judging by the background, she is in the hallway of some type of school. How she ended up naked in such a public environment, is anyone's guess. Maybe she was pulled into the hallway from the girl's locker room or shower, by some cruel schoolmates! Maybe she lost a bet to an unforgiving nemesis! Who knows! Who cares! I just love seeing her in such a shameful predicament! The look of desperation plastered across her face is Priceless!"....

Before I could come to grips with the Pandora's box, I may have just unwittingly opened, another notification came across my phone.

...."Without a doubt, this girl should be the 'Poster Child' for "NAKED AND ASHAMED! You can almost feel the overwhelming humiliation she must have been experiencing, when the photos were taken. She seems oblivious to what is happening to her at first, until it is too late. Her hesitation allowed the photographer to capture the awesome full frontals, displaying her bald pussy and tiny tits, which only adds to the indignity of her situation! I love it! I love it! I love it!"....

I was in panic mode as I scrambled to shut off the volume to my phone, only seconds before Paul walked back into the kitchen. I must have appeared visibly shaken, because he said, "Honey. Stop worrying about posing for Felix. If you're not comfortable with the idea, then just don't do it", as he kissed me on the cheek, grabbed another beer from the fridge and headed back out onto our deck. "If he only knew what I was truly distraught about", I thought to myself. I was consumed with the idea that if I have already received two comments about my posted photos, both including such detailed observations and analyses of my plight, how many more comments should I expect to receive? More importantly, how could I have been so naive, that I did not realize my cell # would be tied to the original post? Will I need to get a new phone number? These were the questions that started to haunt me.

As I was contemplating my dilemma, I noticed the screen on my cell phone light up again. I picked it up to find a third comment had been left on my post. It read as follows.

...."You can't help but feel compassion for this poor girl. Whether her situation started out as a bet, a dare, a cruel prank or just a bad idea altogether, she is obviously under intense emotional duress, while almost to the point of tears. I for one, feel sorry for her"....

"Finally! Someone understood how I was feeling!", I thought to myself. "Both at the time the photos were taken, and at this very moment". A simple lapse of judgement should never lead to such unbearable condemnation. Just when I was feeling I may have found an on-line advocate, the next comments to my post were uploaded to the website.

...."I for one, have no sympathy for the little tramp. She stripped naked in a public space, then whined and cried when someone took pictures of her. Boo Hoo! The dirty little slut asked for it, and she got exactly what she asked for!"....

I felt so ashamed, as I realized there was more than a little truth contained in every one of the comments that had been posted to my photo collection. Their comments had me doing some serious soul searching. I was the naked girl who had 31 incriminating photos of herself, posted on the internet! Worse yet, I was the one who actually posted them! I was also the one who was strolling around naked at the top the staircase of the third floor of the community college, allowing Francesca the opportunity to discover me, thus taking the photos in the first place! I was realizing that I was the one who brought every bit of my public humiliation and disgrace upon myself, when I noticed the next comments were posted.

...."Hip-Hip-Hooray! We have a 'New Post'! I haven't given this website a second thought for almost two years. Then out of nowhere, I received an 'Alert' that there was a 'New Post', so I went to the site and pulled it up. Expecting to be disappointed with another wife or girlfriend caught in the shower picture, I was thrilled to find 31 new photos of this adorable, yet obliviously flabbergasted, naked girl! Look at her! She's extraordinary! The bona fide expressions of sheer anguish, written across her face as she was being photographed, are immeasurable. As you follow the pictures in order, it is obvious that she was taken by complete surprise, by the person or persons who were taking the photos. Yet, she is the one who 'Is Naked' in the school or college hallway, is she not? I'd love to know the back story on this girl. I am so grateful to whoever posted this treasure trove of wonderful new photos! Thank You!"....

Before I knew it, those who were posting comments to the collection of my 31 precarious pictures, were discussing my anatomy, along with my mental state of mind, in real time. Right then and there, as I watched the comments coming up every few minutes, I realized how personal my new-found audience could get. The next comment said,

...."When I zoomed in on the girl's vagina, I noticed that there was not a single sign of stubble or razer burn. This girl had shaved her pussy only hours before the photos were taken. I don't know who took the photos, but this girl was going to expose her bald pussy lips to someone that day! I just wish I was the one, that was going to see her perfect little pussy, up close!"....

I almost died of embarrassment knowing some stranger was zooming in on my naked crotch, so 'He' or 'She' could get a closer look at my freshly shaven vagina. I felt so violated! It was as if my privacy was being infringed upon! The most intimate and personal aspects of both my physique and my psyche, were now on display for all to see! And I was the one who picked the website to post them on! I was mortified! I frantically shut off my phone, filled my wine glass, drank it down then filled it again, and went out onto the deck. I was hoping to be distracted from what might end up being the worst mistake of my life, when Paul walked up and hugged me, saying, "Jen. If you want to pose, then pose. If you don't want to pose, then don't".

I was so consumed with the idea that I had foolishly posted naked pictures of myself on the internet, along with the realization that my 'ill-advised' post had now acquired so many subsequent comments, I had all but forgotten about Felix Laconia's offer to pose in San Francisco. I smiled at Paul but remained silent on the issue. Truth is, after the incredible turn of events concerning my naked internet post, I felt posing for Felix was not a good idea, at least not for me right now. I kept quiet about my decision, allowing Paul the opportunity to mentally visualize his naked wife fantasies, as he drank his beer on our deck.

Paul finished heating the left-over barbeque, and we sat down to eat. I nibbled a little, but the emotional and psychological weight of the weekend's events, had caused me to lose my appetite. Paul and I cleaned up after dinner, then I told him I was going upstairs to take a hot bath. He got another beer, kissed me on my head again, then went back out onto our deck. I grabbed my phone and headed upstairs, promising myself, "I am not going to visit that website again". Yours truly, would soon find out that she would be unable to keep that pledge. I had barely slipped beneath the water in the tub, when I returned to the website. There were eight more comments posted.

I read all the comments, both good and bad. Some I thought were emotionally harsh, but accurately described the images the individuals were observing, at least from their own perspectives. From a physical standpoint, most of the comments were flattering. My clean-shaven pussy seemed to be the topic of conversation, and getting great reviews, while my nipples had been referred to as, "Wonderfully pink wine corks, placed on her almost non-existent tiny pale breasts", which I was perfectly fine with. It's not like I didn't know I had small breasts! Then there was the ever popular, "I bet she has to wear two bras to conceal those babies!", referring to my nipples, which had me questioning the age of the person who had posted the somewhat complimentary review.

Some viewers seemed more focused on the humiliation I was experiencing, while the 31 incriminating photos of my totally naked body were being taken, rather than the public exposure that had preceded them. Those were the ones that had a more sinister regard, toward my emotional crisis. For example, someone posted this comment,

...."I think we all agree we'll never know or understand why this girl is naked in some school hallway somewhere, but 'She' knows. Judging by the time it must have taken to photograph almost ten full frontals, I submit our 'Damsel in Distress', set the entire thing up herself. I don't doubt the mental agony expressed on her face is genuine, what I am saying is, "It was her plan to be caught naked by someone", but somehow it all went sour, so she ended up on our computer screens and cell phones, looking so helpless and humiliated"....

Another, had this interpretation of my photo collection,

...."Did you know, it is possible for someone to be unable to achieve orgasm, unless under extreme circumstances and conditions. Perhaps our little slut arranged the encounter, knowing she would experience overwhelming shame and humiliation, and therefore, be able to bring herself to orgasm. I am willing to go as far as to say, I think she posted these pictures herself! I truly believe this girl yearns for the indignity and shame of her situation. She probably needs the degradation in order to bring herself to climax. I'll bet she craves it! This of course is just my opinion, based on what I see in the pictures, she most likely posted."....

Each person who had commented on my first internet post, seem to feel certain they knew at least part of the story behind my naked encounter with Francesca. Although their summations were mostly way off base, they all seemed to be able to touch on a nerve, when it came to my new-found state of ill-repute. Throughout the weekend, the one undeniable fact was that every experience from removing my top while Mike was visiting, right up to the posting of the most recent comments to my photos, helped me achieve a more heightened state of sexual arousal. "I Do Crave It!", I thought to myself. I got out of the tub, turned my phone completely off, put my robe back on then headed back downstairs to join my husband, fearing my new-found desires were spinning out of control.

The photos of Felix, painting at his exhibitions, were still pulled up on Paul's laptop on the kitchen table. Even though I had already made up my mind not to pose, I filled my wine glass and sat down to examine them further, anyway. Justifying to myself that posing for Felix was 'Art", unlike the naked photos of me now posted on the internet, which could only be construed as 'Pornography', I studied the expressions on the girl's faces who were posing for him. Although they all appeared relaxed, I knew that deep down the experience of being naked in a venue with so many clothed people, would most likely be emotionally excruciating, at least for some of the duration. On the other hand, if I follow thru on my initial inclination and decline the offer, I may agonize over my decision and the lost opportunity, for years to come.

Paul returned to the kitchen, grabbed another beer and sat down beside me. "Still considering posing, I see", he said, with a bit of eager anticipation in his tone. I turned towards my husband, and asked, "Paul. You really would have no problem with your wife posing nude, in front of so many people?', turning my focus back to the event photos. "None whatsoever", he replied, "As long as it is something you feel comfortable doing. Jen, Felix Laconia is a world-renowned painter and sculptor. The spectators are there to view his art, with the hopes of seeing the master himself at work", he continued. "They are not there to gawk at whoever his 'Life Model' is". He got up and headed back out to the deck.

That would be the last discussion Paul and I would have, concerning my posing for Felix, that evening. I knew he wanted me to pose in order to satisfy his own lustful curiosity, but he never pressed the issue, for which I was grateful. My attention was now being diverted towards my noon time meeting with Francesca, the following day. I was now becoming anxious, knowing I had to share the website information, I had posted my naked photos to, with her. I had an ominous sensation come over me, as I was thinking about her reaction to the comments I had received, knowing there may be many more by noon tomorrow. I was uneasy about the encounter, as I imagined Francesca's expressions, while she reviewed the pictures and read the comments. I knew she would undoubtedly ridicule and humiliate me at every possible moment.

Monday morning had arrived. I was scheduled to work from home that day, which made my 12:00 appointment with Francesca, less inconvenient than it otherwise might have been. Paul left for work, leaving me alone with my apprehension and dread, as I tried to focus on my work. "I just want this meeting with Francesca to be over with already!", I shouted! After finishing my second cup of coffee, I suddenly became aware that I had already posted the photos! Francesca may make things uncomfortable for me, but the damage has already been done! Unless she breaks her word, the consequences of my actions, have already been realized! What was I so worried about?

I turned on my phone for the first time since it was shut off the evening before. Twenty-six new comments! Twenty-six! I quickly scanned the recent additions to my internet post, before getting ready for my meeting with Francesca. I was careful to choose my attire wisely, before taking a shower. No makeup and a conservative blouse to go with a pair of blue jeans. The website address containing the 31 naked photos of me, would be the only ammunition I was going to provide for her amusement. I just needed to meet with her, give her the web address and take the verbal humiliation, I knew was in store for me. "After it was over, it would be over!

I still needed to find a way to deal with the onslaught of comments that were being posted, causing my phone's text alert to be going off at all hours of the day and night, based on the times they were posted. I figured I'd find a way around that, one way or another. I planned my trip across town so I would be on time but not early. I walked into the college and up to the third floor. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Francesca's classroom door. "Come in", I heard her say. I cracked open the door and peeked in like I had yesterday afternoon. "Oh Jenifer! My tawdry little slut! Please come in!", she said, with a great deal of exuberance.

I entered the classroom with a sense of trepidation but walked up to Francesca as confident as anyone could be, under such circumstances. "I have the web address, Francesca, so let's get this over with", I said, as I pulled out my cell phone. Francesca already had her lap top ready to look at my naked images on the web. Just as I was about to tell her the web address, Mrs. Slate walked into the room. She took one look at me, and said, "Oh Jenifer! I wasn't expecting you today. Does your visit today mean you have decided to pose for Felix Laconia next month?" I couldn't move a muscle.

Before I was able to utter a single word, Francesca asked, "You're going to be posing for Felix Laconia? Why didn't you tell me this yesterday, Jen?" I remained silent, as I watched her pick up her phone. "What are you doing?", I asked. "I'm deleting the nude photos I took of you, of course. If I had known you were preparing to pose for Felix, I never would have taken them in the first place. I know how his 'Life Models' are required to pose in unusually large and public venues, which must be why I discovered you fully nude in the hallway". She then looked at Mrs. Slate, and said, "Don't worry Mrs. Slate. I only took the photos as a small prank on an old high school classmate. "So, this means you're going to pose, Jenifer?", Mrs. Slate asked. Completely caught off guard, I simply nodded, "Yes".

Mrs. Slate replied, "That's Wonderful! I'll inform the Sullivans about your decision", as she headed back to her classroom. In a matter of seconds, I had just inadvertently traded a few minutes of degradation at the hands of Francesca, for hours of public nudity, while being surrounded by 100 to 150 fully clothed spectators! Worse yet! My naked photos were already posted on the internet! I had posted them for absolutely no reason whatsoever, as it turned out! The turn of events had me feeling sick to my stomach.

[FunKelly]

Overwhelmed by the recent occurrence, I was feeling betrayed by both Francesca and myself. I didn't need to post my photos on the internet, but now it was too late! Assuming Francesca and I were finished with our little bit of business, I started to make my way towards her classroom door, when I heard her say, "So Jenifer. The great "Felix Laconia" is going to paint your juicy little pussy and those rock-hard nipples of yours, at his next Exhibition, huh?", as she gave me a wink. I didn't know how to respond, so I said nothing. Just then Mrs. Slate walked back in, and asked, "Jenifer. Are you free this afternoon?" I explained how I was on lunch break and needed to get back to work, never letting on I was working from home that day. "Oh. What a shame", she said in a somber tone. I then made another life changing blunder, and asked, "Why?"

Her reply would open the door for another afternoon of debauchery, disguised as art, should I choose to walk through it. "Well, Jenifer" she started, "I have an unusually large class for a mid-summer workshop, starting in forty-five minutes. Eighteen pupils! It's not a 'Life Model' class, but you may gain valuable, real-life experience, spending an hour or so with us". I somehow had this feeling there was a vail of secrecy hanging over Mrs. Slate's invitation, so I asked, "How so?", unsure I really wanted to know the answer. She had an air of authority when, she said, "It's no secret Felix Laconia would prefer his models did not wear robes during the breaks. Although they are not forbidden. He says, repeatedly having to remove the robes, causes trepidation and anxiety within his models. He found they appear relaxed and almost nonchalant, about their public nudity, when they don't wear them".

I knew where this was heading, so I struggled to restrain myself from screaming out, "Yes! I'll do it!" I patiently waited for Mrs. Slate to get to her point, as I found myself becoming moist between my thighs. She continued, "First I must tell you that the ages of the workshop pupils start at eighteen and go right up to a couple of seniors. Both male and female. Very similar to what you can expect to experience at 'Felix's Exhibit'. Just a smaller space with less people. All the students in the workshop have attended at least two life model classes, so are not squeamish about nudity. What I am suggesting Jenifer, is that you put on a robe, which are back from the laundry by the way, and walk among the artists".

"If and when you feel you are ready to remove the robe, then quietly remove it", she continued. "The class will be informed in advance of your presence, and the reason for it. If you can get the afternoon off, I would recommend you do so. You are a novice 'Life model', Jenifer, and you need this available experience, if you are to pose for Felix Laconia, in San Franscico next month. The time will pass before you know it", she warned. "We are all adults here, Jenifer. We are all adults", she said, then returned to her classroom. Even though that's what I thought she was going to say, I still can't believe I just heard Mrs. Slate, tell me, 'It was for my Betterment', that I walk around her class of eighteen art students, totally naked!

I immediately sent a text to my boss, telling her something had come up, and that I would be in touch later. I received a 'Thumbs Up' emoji, and knew I was going to experience the incredible sensation of being 'The Only One Naked'! Again! I found myself all too willing to surrender my clothes, even though I had not officially given my response to her invitation. Feeling trapped in Francesca's classroom, I contemplated the best way to re-join Mrs. Slate, in her classroom. An environment where I knew I could discretely walk around naked, in view of nineteen clothed people, without consequence. I was getting wet just thinking about it!

Francesca ended the awkward silence, by saying, "Jenifer. I am so sorry about yesterday. I had no idea you were rehearsing for Felix, when I discovered you in the hallway. I'm sure you know I was just kidding, when I said I would post the photos I took of you". The room suddenly became eerily silent. Then Francesca continued, "You were also kidding when you told me you really posted them, right?...... Jenifer? You really didn't post those photos, did you?" I wasn't sure if Francesca was covering her tracks, or if I was simply a complete fool for posting the photos, so I could do nothing but give her a blank stare. Her eyes became wide open as she screeched, OMG! Jenifer!"

She ran over, stood beside me, and said, "I cannot believe you posted naked pictures of yourself on the internet! Now I just have to see them!" I just stood there completely stunned, but aware my attempt to get to Mrs. Slate's classroom had just become an endeavor. I stuttered, as I said, "Maybe later. I've got to get ready for the class". Francesca replied, "Oh come on Jen! That class doesn't start for more than a half hour! Let me see the pictures! You owe it to me, Jenifer! If I hadn't taken them, you wouldn't have had them to post!" "I owe you! I owe you! Are you kidding me?", I thought to myself. If only she knew how my 'Post', seemed to have taken on a life of its own. Comment after comment after comment. The good, the bad and the ugly.

Francesca looked at me as if we were best friends. Her demeanor seemed genuine, but it was her motives, I was most concerned about. She sat at her desk, pulled the keyboard a few inches closer, then said, "O.K. Jen. Give me that address". I don't know why, but I reluctantly told her the web address, I had posted my photos on. She pulled it up immediately and found my naked ass, greeting her on the 'Welcome Page'. I could see she was clearly enamored seeing the photos she took, posted on the web. Francesca spent some time studying the pictures, one at a time. All thirty-one of them. I was petrified of what she might say, as I watched her read through the comments, that had now numbered, forty-seven. She looked at me, then back to her computer screen.

I became even more anxious, as the anticipation of Francesca's response to my post, engulfed me. Just then, she announced, "OMG! Jenifer! Your post is awesome! The pictures. The viewer's comments. All of it! It's Awesome!", still staring at her laptop screen. All of a sudden, she stood up, retrieved a chair and placed it next to hers, saying, "Come on Jen. Come sit with me, so we can examine your post together!" With some hesitation, I sat next to Francesca, who continued to be captivated by my naked photo submittal to the site. I sat there in silence, as she went up and down my post, looking at the photos and reading the comments that were still trickling in.

As I was watching her laptop screen, I was astounded as I observed Francesca zoom in on my pussy, from one the full-frontal photographs in the collection. She zoomed in close enough to frame my freshly shaven mound, along with the two-inch gap between my thighs, and said, "You should let me taste it". "WHAT?" I exclaimed! She turned towards me, and said, "Your pussy, Jen! You should let me taste your pussy!" I was completely taken off guard when Francesca waved her hand, and said, "Lesbian!". It was the second time in three days that an acquaintance of mine, had revealed to me that she was a lesbian. I was starting to get a complex.

"No Francesca! No!", I replied, concerning her request to taste my pussy. She tried the pity routine, saying, "Oh Come on, Jenifer! Just a lick or two?" My reply seemed to come from someone other than me, when I snapped, and said, "Francesca! My pussy is not a Lolli Pop!" She just gave me the most seductive expression, and said, "I bet it tastes better than any Lolli Pop I've ever had", then returned her focus to the website. I couldn't deny my total state of titillation, but knew it was time to go. I stood up, hoping to make my way to Mrs. Slate's classroom, with no additional drama, when Francesca stood up and walked over to me.

She took my hand and led me to the two adjoining changing rooms, that were a mirror image of the changing rooms Kevin and I had used in Mrs. Slate's class, the day before. I was trembling, when she said, "You may as well get ready here, for your upcoming class, Jen. There are fresh robes in the changing rooms", as she returned to her laptop. I meekly replied, "I'll change over in Mrs. Slate's classroom", as I made my way towards her classroom door. "If that's what you want to call it", Francesca muttered, freezing me in my tracks. "What does that mean?", I asked, as I turned around to face her. "I didn't mean anything by that, Jen. It's only that 'technically' you won't be changing, you'll just be getting undressed, is all", she replied, still staring at my naked photos.

"Francesca! I will have a robe on!", I insisted! "Yeah. But for how long?", she calmly replied, still fixated on my naked pictures. I defiantly stormed over to her changing rooms, walked into the one on the right, and slammed the door behind me. I immediately realized that I had just officially eliminated all possible escape routes. I would have to leave this room, wearing nothing but a white terrycloth robe, hoping my clothes would still be here when I returned. After removing my sandals, jeans and blouse, which I folded and placed neatly on the bench, I started to have this ominous feeling come over me, while I looked down at my breasts, as I removed my bra and placed it with my blouse. My nipples were firm and erect, indicating the state of arousal I was already in. Nonetheless, I slipped off my panties, put on a robe and exited the changing room.

"Come sit, Jenifer", Francesca said, without even turning around to see me. "We'll read the newest comments together. You still have 25 minutes until the class begins", she continued. I don't know why, but I took the seat next to her, and joined her in looking at the comments that were recently posted. Francesca said, look at this one Jen, as she guided the arrow to someone's remarks, and read them out loud,

..... "The utter humiliation this girl is experiencing is apparent from her facial expressions. However, it's the fact the little slut was so clueless about what was happening around her, that has me baffled. I mean really. Who in this day and age, would strip completely naked in a public space, and not realized anyone could be lurking about with their cell phone cameras at the ready. She should have known this was going to happen. Like I said, 'Clueless'!" .....

"That person just called you a 'Clueless Little Slut', Jen!", Francesca said, as she started laughing uncontrollably. I told her to keep her voice down, as the reality of the viewer's comments were starting to hit home. "This is all your fault", I said, still urging her to lower her voice. "Oh. What are you worried about, Jenifer? Afraid someone might find out Felix Laconia's newest 'Life Model' is nothing but a tawdry little slut, who likes to post naked pictures of herself on the internet? Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me", she said. I felt so ashamed of myself and the photos I had posted but was unable to deny the exhilaration that accompanied that shame. Once again, I found the experience intoxicating.

Mrs. Slate entered the room at that moment, and said, "Oh good, Jenifer. You're ready. Several of the students have already arrived, if you'd like to come meet them". "Meet them?", I asked. "I thought I wasn't supposed to approach the artists". She replied, "Yes dear, that's true but only if you are the subject they're painting. Today the artists will be painting a small antique table set for two, with a bowl of fruit in the center, as the main subject matter. You're here to gain some much-needed experience with public nudity, and to help you become more comfortable with the idea, so you are prepared to model for Felix". My arousal turned to fear, as I followed Mrs. Slate. Even though I was wearing a robe, I felt naked and exposed as I entered her classroom.

Both male and female artists of all ages were in the room, while some were walking in right behind me. Knowing most of the students had been informed about my attendance in their class and the reason for it, made the encounter that much more unnerving. The cold tile floors beneath my feet, along with having only a single article of clothing for cover, made me feel like I was already naked. Unlike yesterday's class of only four students, this class seemed to fill the entire room. Completely apprehensive about with my surroundings, not to mention the daunting task before me, I was rendered motionless. That was until a woman, who must have been in her mid-seventies, walked up to me.

The woman reached out her hand to shake mine, and said, "You must be Jenifer". I could only nod "Yes", as she continued. "My name is Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Lizzy. I enjoy painting 'Life Models', Jenifer, but only engage in the activity, if I can do it in my own home, mostly for privacy reasons. You understand. Do you do private poses?" Before I could respond, she said, "I pay handsomely", as she gave me a grandmother's smile. I was temporarily relieved about my circumstances, as I pondered her question. Mrs. Slate suddenly announced the class was to start in ten minutes, when Lizzy quietly said, "Please think about it, Jenifer. I live next to the police station, so you can be assured you will be safe", smiling again, then walking away, allowing me time to meet some others, before the class would start.

I made my way around the room and only spoke, if I was spoken too first. Well... I pretty much spoke with everyone anyway. I felt so welcome, as I had brief one on one conversations with almost all of the student artists. By the time the ten minutes was up, I could visualize myself, nonchalantly removing my robe, while immersed in a conversation with three or more of the students, appearing completely relaxed and confident in my nudity. In real time, the students took their places, as I thought about 'How not to be a Distraction', like walking around totally naked, in view of everyone, wouldn't be a distraction. Mrs. Slate decided to make another announcement. Class....I see you have all met Jenifer. Jenifer will be posing for none other than, 'Felix Laconia', next month!"

I was standing in the back of the room, when everyone turned around to face me, then started to applaud. Each clap vibrating from the hands of the eighteen artists, felt like an indispensable thread was being removed from my psychological robe. Every ounce of my dignity, along with my self-esteem, was evaporating into the air around me, as I had undoubtedly become the center of attention. I was hoping for my '2nd naked walk', to have a more inconspicuous atmosphere. I wanted to be as unassuming, as naked girl among clothed people can be. But now I felt like I was under a microscope, regardless of Mrs. Slate's intentions.

I remembered, while waiting for the applause to settle down, how four people, whose ages ranged from their twenties to their fifties, had used the word 'JOB' while describing what they knew about posing for Felix Laconia. Everyone seemed to have heard of this guy, but me! They revealed what they knew during our short conversations, as others nodded in agreement. That's when it finally occured to me. "This was an opportunity that required real work!" As the students turned around and started working their craft, my spine stiffened, so I removed the robe. I placed it on a coat hook by the classroom door, then took a few steps in both directions, before venturing even further.

As much as I tried to convince myself that I was participating in what might be the making of next year's masterpiece, I could not deny that walking around totally naked, provided me with the sensation that I craved! Suddenly, Lizzy called out to me, asking, "Jenifer. Do you have a moment dear?" I looked to Mrs. Slate for guidance, when she nodded that it was o.k. for me to join Lizzy at her easel. She was positioned right in the middle of the other artists, which meant I would be in the view of most of them, as I made my way over to her. Believe it or not, I felt totally at ease and uninhibited, as I walked my 'Naked Ass' over to Lizzy.

[FunKelly]

I leaned over so I could discretely speak with Lizzy, without disrupting the class. I looked at her, and asked, "What can I do for you, Lizzy?" "Have you given my any thought to my offer?", she asked. "Seeing you as you are right now, Jenifer, I'm positive you are the 'Life Model' I've been hoping for", she continued. I attempted to deflect her question, by saying, "I'll need to check with my husband, Lizzy". "Bring him along with you", was her instant reply. "The more the merrier!", she said. I knew Paul would be totally up for it, but I held back from giving her my answer. I stood up and wandered around the room, trying not to be a distraction, yet completely aroused from my exposure. Unlike a 'Life Model' session where the subject needs to take a break, when painting inanimate objects, the artists took random breaks as they needed them. Most never took any breaks at all.

I was starting to crave the one-on-one attention I had experienced during my introductions to the students, but this time my naked flesh would not be shielded by that robe. Mrs. Slate joined me in the back of the class, and said, "Jenifer. Can I speak to you privately in the hallway?" Afraid I may have broken some life model protocol; I became anxious as I followed her into the hallway and watched as she pulled to door closed behind her. It was a Deja' vu moment! Once again, I found myself totally naked in the community college hallway. "I see you've met Lizzy', Mrs. Slate said to me. I must have appeared concerned, because she then said, "Don't be alarmed Jenifer. I've known Lizzy for decades. She's a bit eccentric, but she's harmless. Did she ask you to pose for a painting in her home?", she asked. I just nodded, "Yes". "Then this is what you will need to know", she asserted.

"Lizzy is very wealthy for starters, but also very down to earth. She lives in a large estate behind the police department downtown. Since her husband passed a few years back, she lives alone with the exception of her domestic help, which consists of her maid, cook, driver and of course her butler, Charles, who manages the household affairs for her. Now. About her past. When Lizzy was in her thirties, she would commission 'Life Model' paintings of herself". "Lizzy was a 'Life Model'?", I blurted out. "Not only a life model, Jenifer, but quite an accomplished painter in her own right. Still is, as a matter of fact". She then snickered a bit, as she said, "We could barely keep clothes on that girl back in those days", obviously remembering the nostalgic time, with great fondness.

"Lizzy would pay the artists in cash, thus, owning the works outright, once they were completed", Mrs. Slate, went on to say. "Many of those painting have been sold for quite a bit of money over the years, and many an artist got their professional start, painting Lizzy's nude form, back in the day. I have personally witness some of those sessions and believe me, she's of the same mindset as Felix Laconia, when it comes to the subject of robes. She never wore one, no matter how many people were in attendance. Some thought it inappropriate for the times, but Lizzy didn't care. If you decide to pose for her, you can expect that same type of atmosphere.

Wine and cheese will be served to about a dozen of her contemporaries, as she paints your nude physique, whether in the main hall of her home, or out in her gardens. The breaks can last up to an hour, so you should be prepared to be left fully nude, while mingling among the guests. I think she is hoping to relive her past, vicariously through the right model", she said, as she winked at me. "She hasn't had that model whose physical attributes, along with her same carefree attitude, bring out the best in her paintings, for quite some time now. Come to think of it, I don't know if she ever has. The experience however, I feel may benefit you greatly", she said. This was the second time Mrs. Slate told me I would benefit by being among fully clothed people, while completely naked. I was really starting to like her.

I hadn't realized we had walked about 50 or 60 feet down the hallway, as Mrs. Slate told me about Lizzy, and what to expect if I decided to pose for her. I felt self-conscious and utterly exposed, as we made our way back towards her classroom. But somehow, I felt completely safe in her company. I started remembering how Lizzy had told me to bring my husband along, I felt it would be a win-win scenario for both Paul and me! I would get to enjoy my newfound hobby, while Paul could visually satisfy his private fantasies, about his wife being naked in public. Although I didn't say anything to Mrs. Slate at that moment, I had decided to pose for Lizzy at her home, knowing Paul would have no objection whatsoever.

I was imagining myself standing next to Paul, who is dressed in his best golf shirt and pants. We are standing in the center of Lizzy's 'Main Hall', surrounded by all of the fully clothed guests, along with the staff members. I... 'Of Course,'.... am completely naked. I can almost visualize my husband and I moving among the many clothed people. Suddenly, I was snapped out of my little daydream, by the unmistakable sound and vibrations of someone running up the 'Art Wing' stairs. I instinctively grabbed hold of Mrs. Slate's hand. Her next sentence would stick with me for years to come. "Jenifer! I won't be there to hold your hand in San Fransisco! Now stiffen your nerve and be the 'Life Model' we all know you can be!", in a low but stern tone.

I took a deep breath and held my shoulders back, as if that would do anything to enhance the view of my tiny little breasts, to whoever might be running up those stairs. I heard the footsteps passing the second-floor landing and heading right up towards us. I held my position fast and resolute, even though I was petrified! A geeky looking man in his early to mid-thirties appeared from the third-floor stairway landing, into the hallway in front of us. Just when I thought I would die of embarrassment, he barely gave me a thought, and walked right up to Mrs. Slate, and said, "Is this the girl who's posing for Felix next month?", in the tone of a man twice his age. She simply replied, "Yes Mr. Franks. This is Jenifer". He barely looked at me, then turned back to Mrs. Slate, and said, "You've filled her in on the 'pubic hair' requirements, I trust?" "Of course, Mr. Franks", she replied. With that, he just walked off mumbling, "Good luck to you, young lady". I heard every one of his footsteps echoing throughout the college's art wing, as he briskly walked down the hallway.

I had barely come to terms with what had just happened, when Francesca stepped out into the hallway. Mrs. Slate immediately took the initiative, and said, "Now Francesca! No cameras today! You know better than that." Francesca replied, "Oh, come on now Mrs. Slate. That was just a harmless prank between two old high school buddies. It's not like would post Jenifer's naked pictures on the internet for everyone to see, or anything", as she gave me a sinister grin. I cringed, as I thought about what had just occurred. Some guy named Mr. Franks, just had a brief conversation with Mrs. Slate, concerning 'MY' pubic hair, as I stood naked before them both. Yet! I was completely ignored. Francesca was now subtlety reminding me that I was the one who posted my own naked photos on the internet. I have never felt more physically, emotionally or psychologically 'EXPOSED and HUMILIATED' in my entire life!

Mrs. Slate continued to her classroom, and I followed as closely as possible without it being weird. I didn't want to be left alone in the hallway with Francesca. Just as were about to enter the classroom, Francesca said, "Hey Jen", like we were the best of friends. "You need to see this", as she held up her phone. Mrs. Slate said, Francesca, why don't you joint us?" "I've got to go to the main office, Mrs. Slate, to check on a supply order I place for next semester, but I'll be back in a few minutes", as she grabbed my hand. I helplessly watched as Mrs. Slate walked into the classroom, leaving me totally naked with Francesca, who already had her phone out. She looked at me, and said, "You have more comments on your post Jen, but this one is hilarious. You really need to read it". I look at her phone, and read,

..... "Damn! Check out those 'NIPPLES! You could lay this girl down, facing up in the back yard and use them to play a ring toss game! Has anyone ever seen nipples that stick out so far? They're Awesome!!!! .....

My mouth fell open as I read the comment, while Francesca started laughing, as she said, "A Ring Toss Game", mimicking a person tossing an outdoor game ring, hoping it would land around my now erect and sore nipples. She leaned in, looked me right in the eyes, and said, "They are awesome Jenifer", as she walked to the stairway, saying, "See you in a bit". I slowly walked into the classroom, well aware that some of the eighteen student artists had not seen me naked yet. This was because I was towards the back of the room when I removed my robe, and Lizzy was sitting a few rows back from the subject of the class, the table holding the fruit bowl. Now I had my rock-hard nipples to worry about, while steadying my nerves, so I didn't cover my tits or pussy, even subconsciously.

I knew now that it was a short trip from "Total Arousal' to 'Utter Humiliation' and I was a searching for a mental, 'Happy Medium'. I looked at the clock in the classroom to see the class had 45 minutes left. I decided to make the most of my permitted nudity, in the time that was remaining. I actually held my hands together behind my back and strolled around the back half of the classroom, looking at the student's paintings, hopeful that some who had not seen me naked, might take notice. A second later, one of the senior male artists stood up to stretch and noticed me. He smiled and waved, as he made his way over to me. I had already met him, but now I didn't have the protection of my robe. I glanced around the room for a second as he walked up to me. My quick glance gave me a sense of safety and security, so I was all too happy to speak with him in my naked state. This was the fun part for me.

I found out his name was Harold, and we quietly talked for almost five minutes, in the back of the room. These moments were scarce, so I enjoyed every minute of our conversation. We were soon joined by what I would later find out was a husband and his wife, both in their mid to late forties. We re-introduced ourselves, and I found myself feeling somewhat relaxed, even comfortable, yet somehow sexually stimulated. I was naked! But most importantly, they knew why I was naked, which eliminated so many awkward questions. Mrs. Slate surely must have noticed the four of us gathering in the rear of her class but said nothing. I think she felt any experience I might gain was worth a few poorly painted fruit bowls, and let it continue.

The remainder of the class went as good as I could have possibly hoped for. I was interacting with strangers, completely naked, yet everyone was fine with it. The student artist expected me to be nude, so therefore, made no mention of the fact, that I actually was! The sensation was rapidly becoming addicting! I must admit that very little 'Real Artwork' came out of that mid-summer session. However, thanks to the graciousness of everyone in the room, I was completely relaxed in my nudity, and having the time of my life. That's when that 'Short Trip' I mentioned earlier, would rear its ugly head, in the person of Francesca, who just walked into the classroom.

I could tell she was up to something but had no idea what it was. I gave her a friendly glance, then returned to the conversation I was having with two nineteen-year-old girls from the college. As much as I tried to take no notice of Francesca, an ominous feeling came over me. The pleasure my public nudity was providing me, was now turning to the dread I had hoped never to have experienced. "I was naked! Why was I naked? Why didn't anyone care that I was naked!", I asked myself, still struggling to carry on a conversation with the two young girls. I started to relax again when I saw Mrs. Slate walk over and stand next to Francesca. They even started having a little chat, which I felt was promising for me, in my present situation.

While the two of them were chatting, I made my way around the room. I had short, one-on-one conversations with men and women of all ages, along with a group chat, where I was among eight clothed people that were thoroughly involved in a group dialogue, concerning Felix Laconia! I was totally at peace with my nudity. It was invigorating! I then noticed the clock on the wall was at 2:00, and I was afraid my naked escapade was soon coming to an end. Just then, Robert and Elaine Sullivan walked into the classroom. They caught one glimpse of me, then started waving as their smiles seem to light up the room, at least for me. I knew immediately that Mrs. Slate informed them I had decided to pose for Felix. I waved back, then nonchalantly returned to our group's discussion, feeling I had shown I was up for the job.

The Sullivan's were with Mrs. Slate and Francesca, near the classroom door, having a discussion of their own. That's when it occurred to me, that no one seemed to be concerned about the time, which was fine by me. "I was having a blast!" All that would change at 2:12 p.m. that afternoon. Mrs. Slate asked everyone to join her for an announcement. I felt confident, as we gathered around her, that I had displayed a carefree attitude, while getting some of that 'Much Needed Experience', I had been hearing so much about. My casual naked endeavors were about to become some serious 'Life Model' training, unbeknownst to me. The cold tile floor beneath my bare feet, stirred up feelings of vulnerability, but also confidence in my nakedness, as I waited for Mrs. Slate to speak.

"We have great news everyone!", she said. "Francesca was returning from the main office when she heard a ruckus in the gymnasium. Lucky for us she decided to investigate. She found the volleyball team was preparing to practice, so she approached the team's coach. As it turns out the team will be practicing on one half of the court, and the coach has agreed to allow us to use the other side, for the purpose of having a 'Life Model' session! Isn't that great?", she asked, with such exuberance. Everyone, including the Sullivan's started to applaud, while I was far less enthusiastic. I knew Francesca was using her alliance with Mrs. Slate and the Sullivans for the sole purpose of humiliating me. "What I propose", Mrs. Slate continued, "Is that we all take our sketch pads and charcoal pencils down to the gymnasium and have an impromptu "life Modeling' class, so Jenifer can gain every advantage she may need, while posing for Felix Laconia".

What happened next would be just what you might have expected would happen in a situation like this. Four professional art instructors, along with eighteen novice art students of all ages, spoke among themselves in small groups, about the fate of the tiny little naked girl standing in their midst. I felt unintentionally disregarded, but that didn't diminish either the anxiety or the exhilaration, of the moment. Suddenly all eyes were on me. The twenty-two people in the room, all seem to come to the same realization, that I had to agree to pose, before there could be any 'Impromptu Life Mode Class'! I confidently put my hands on my hips, and said, "I would like to talk to my husband first, if that's alright with everyone?", as I scanned the room full of people, looking for the robe I had removed over an hour ago.

The room fell eerily silent, when I noticed there were at least seven people, casually assembled between me and my robe. I let everyone know my phone was in Francesca's classroom, with my clothing. They cleared the way to Mrs. Slate's classroom door, as they nodded in approval, concerning my question about talking to Paul, first. With my robe out of reach, I thought to myself, "Screw it! Everyone has already seen me naked! So, who cares?" I marched out of the classroom, took a sharp left, and walked straight into a giant. At least that's how it felt to me. I looked up to see a 6' 2", woman of color, well-toned and muscular, looking down at me. She was wearing a tight green tank top, white bikini style gym shorts, like the women beach volleyball players wear, along with green knee-high socks and white sneakers. Her physique was impeccable, and her hair was done up in beads.

"You must be de 'Naked Art Girl' Francesca talked about", she said, in a heavy Jamaican accent. I felt so puny in the shadow of this colossal woman, but managed to sarcastically reply, "Yup. 'The Naked Art Girl'. That's me!", in a patronizing tone. "Now if you'll excuse me", I said, hoping to pass by her, so I could call Paul. I froze as she blocked the way to the classroom door, and looked over every inch of my naked body, and asked, "All American girls shave their vaginas, yes?", with an expression of real curiosity on her face. "No!... not...all", I replied, in a somber yet somewhat emphatic tone, hoping to let her know I was offended by her question. While I was still attempting to reach Francesca's classroom, the incredibly fit, yet scantly clothed, towering Jamaican woman held out her hand, and said, "I am Amicia. What's your name?", with the most honest and sincere smile. My defenses melted away, as I shook her hand, and replied, "My name is Jenifer. Nice to meet you, Amicia".

Amicia casually looked over my naked body for the second time, and said, "I must tell you, Jenifer, 'the naked art girl', you have wonderfully large and erect nipples, for one so small". I was stunned, as her words seemed to echo throughout the third floor 'Art Wing' of the college. I grabbed her hand and dragged her into Francesca's classroom, then closed the door behind us. We looked at each other and started laughing like two schoolgirls. While we were still laughing, Amicia pointed to my bald pussy, and said, "You look like ten-year-old girl, Jenifer!", laughing even louder. I responded to her observation by playfully replying, "Well look at you, Amicia! Your bikini is at least a size too small, and your 'Camel Toe' leaves nothing to the imagination!", as we continued to laugh.

As our laughter quieted down a bit, I looked at her, and said, "Amicia. I have to call my husband". She put her index finger against her lips, indicating she understood. I usually text Paul, so I knew if I called him, he would pick up his phone immediately. Barely two rings later, I heard, "Hey Jen. Everything alright?", he inquired. "Yes, Paul everything is fine. Are you in the office today?", I asked. "Yeah. Why?", he replied. "Paul. I need you to listen to me without interrupting, until I am finished", I said. I went on tell him I had agreed to pose for Felix and filled him in on some of the events of that afternoon, without letting on that I was already naked, and have been for over an hour. I had Paul's full attention, when I told him how I had an opportunity to 'Life Model' in the college gymnasium shortly.

I explained to Paul how I would be posing for the student artists, while under the supervision of Mrs. Slate and the Sullivans, yet in full view of an entire volleyball team, who would be practicing at the other end of the gym. I asked him to meet us, if he was able to leave work. "I'll be right there!", he enthusiastically replied. Paul worked about two miles from the college, so I knew he would arrive in minutes. I turned towards Amicia, and said, "He's on his way", as I hung up my phone. She looked at me, and asked, "Jenifer. What is 'Camel Toe'?" I felt so puny and vulnerable standing there, naked in front of the 6' 2", well-toned Jamaican woman. Still, I blurted out, "Amicia! Camel toe is when the outline of your pussy is easily visible through whatever you're wearing. For instance, I can make out your pussy lips right through your ultra-tight sport bikini, right now!"

She looked down at her crotch, then turned her focus back to my clean-shaven pussy, and replied, "Jenifer. You may see the outline of my pussy as you say, but your vagina is not covered by anything. Not even pubic hair. It's out there for all to see! Just like your tiny breasts, large nipples and perfectly round buttocks!", teasing me as she pointed to my crotch and started laughing again. She then added, "I could hang my beads on your nipples while I wash my hair", laughing even louder. I was appalled, but for some reason felt completely at ease in Amicia's company and knew her teasing was all in good fun. I changed the subject and asked her a question that was on my mind since Mrs. Slate announced I had another 'Life Modeling' opportunity.

"Amicia. Did Francesca mention that taking photos of a nude life model, is inappropriate?" She replied, "Oh yes. She spoke to all the players as well". I started feeling satisfied that Francesca was not setting me up for the ultimate in public humiliation, when Amicia continued. "Don't get caught!", she said. "What?", I asked. She went on to say, "Francesca told us not to get caught taking pictures of you, but if we were able to get some, we should send them to her cell phone". "She, told you and all the volleyball players that?" She shook her head up and down, indicating her answer was, "Yes". I was becoming angry, when Amicia went on to tell me that Francesca said she was collecting nude photos of me in a public setting, so she could forward them to me. Amicia finished by saying, "She told us you like to post naked pictures of yourself on the internet, and that you would be pleased".

[Hooked6]

The story continues to be interesting and intriguing. I am glad that you are still adding to it.

Hooked6

[FunKelly]

Thank you.

[FunKelly]

My first instinct was to expose Francesca's plan to humiliate me to Mrs. Slate and the Sullivan's, knowing it was a major breach of 'Life Modeling' protocol, not to mention a pretty lousy thing to do. After thinking about it for a few second, I came up with a much better idea. I told Amicia that she should have any players who are able to procure photos of me, as I posed in front of the students, players, coaches and art instructors, send the photos to my cell phone. "Francesca means well, but I see no reason to bother her with all this", I said, as I wrote down my number on a 'Post It', note and handed it to her. "You like to show you naked body to others, huh Jenifer", she said, as she took my number. "Yup! That's me, Amicia! The naked American art girl with the bald pussy, who enjoys displaying her naked body on the internet!" She knew there was more going on here, but just warmly smiled at me and nodded her head.

I felt confident enough in the recent bonding between Amicia and myself, that I decided to drop the subject of Francesca's diabolical scheme. After all, even if some unauthorized photos were taken and ended up in the wrong hands, I was performing the respected, centuries old art form of 'Life Modeling'. "There was no shame in it", I told myself. Amicia told me she needed to rejoin her players, but that she had come to the art wing to let me know I would be safe and secure among her volleyball players. I was totally moved by her gesture, so gave her a hug, then she started walking down the hallway. "Hey Amicia!", I called out. "How many people are on a volleyball team anyway?", I asked. "Twelve", was her one-word answer, as she continued down the hallway. I, on the other hand, rejoined the instructors and students back in Mrs. Slate's classroom, having a new perspective concerning my, soon to be second official 'Life Modeling' experience.

I entered the room, and said, "Paul's on his way, so I guess we should head down to the gym". Everyone was already prepared to move the class downstairs, so I asked one of the male students who was closest to my robe, to hand it to me. "Mrs. Slate gave me a look that I was unable to discern, so I simply said, "I won't be walking to Felix's exhibition from my hotel room in the nude, so I won't be walking to the gymnasium that way today, either". Mrs. Slate smiled, and said, "Just the right amount of modesty, Jenifer. Just the right amount". I took my robe from the young male student and put it on, as everyone watched. That's when I heard Robert Sullivan say, "Felix sure knows how to choose his models". "He sure does", Elaine added. I felt like a celebrity, and knowing their compliments were infuriating Francesca, made the moment that much more special.

I kept in the center of the group as we made our way down to the gymnasium. I should have thought to wear my sandals, as the cold tile floors kept me distracted by my nearly naked body, rather than focused on the task at hand. Walking through the quiet, but not empty hallways and stairways of the college, gave me an ominous feeling. You never knew who you might pass along the way, or what they might be thinking, as they first witnessed a tiny girl wearing nothing but a robe, amongst a large group of fully dressed people. That's something you would rarely consider, unless you were almost naked in public. The further we walked, the more inadequate my robe felt. We had passed several individual students, a group of students, and a few college staff members, as we walked to the gym. It was a few minutes of calm, followed by a few seconds of sheer terror, over and over again!

We had one last obstacle before getting to the gym. The main office. During a regular semester, I imagined the line could be out the door. Fortunately, it was July, and I could see no line, as we approached. Still, I maneuvered my way to the outside of the group, as we passed the large glass windows of the main office. I let out a sigh of relief, as we passed without incident. Just to the right of the hallway before us, was the entrance to the gymnasium. "It's time to put on your game face, Jenifer!", I thought to myself. I could hear the unmistakable sound of sneakers screeching on the polished wood floors of the basketball court, along with the constant thump as someone was hitting the ball. The next sound I heard were the large metal entry doors of the gymnasium, being opened.

I was still among those in the center of the group, as we slimmed down to a single file line. At least nine people walked into the gymnasium before me. Once inside the cavernous place, I felt so small, yet somewhat inspired, knowing I would once again be posing nude. That inspiration would all but vanish, when I saw 'Two', yes 'Two', co-ed volleyball teams at the other end of the gym. Amicia's team, dressed in their green and white colors, and another team suited up in blue and gold. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that both men and women play volleyball, but I just assumed the players would all be female. Just then my husband Paul entered the gymnasium from the side where the volleyball teams were warming up to play. He waved to me and made his way around the players and down the court to me.

I could tell by the expression on my husband's face, which was permeating with excitement, that he was having 'No' second thoughts about his wife posing nude for an art class, in such a public environment. Overflowing with anticipation, he took my hands, and asked, "Are you sure you're up for this, Jen?" Any answer but "yes" would have been a disappointment for him, so I simply replied, "It's now or never, I guess". Truth be told, I was totally up for the experience. Mrs. Slate and the Sullivans joined us and introduced themselves to Paul. Mrs. Slate called Francesca over to where we were standing. Anxiety accompanied any and all encounters I would have with Francesca, ever since she discovered me in the hallway and took those naked pictures of me. Who could blame me. Right?

"Francesca. Since you were the one who arranged this 'Spur of the moment class', why don't you have the students take a place on the bleachers and choose a pose for Jenifer. Something dignified, please", she instructed. "Of course, Mrs. Slate", she replied, as she led me away from my husband and the three art instructors. To my surprise, she was very professional as she directed the students on choosing positions on the bleachers. She had them spread-out in a half circle and used the many levels of the bleachers as a sort of amphitheater, allowing everyone an unobstructed view of the area where I would be posing. As she approached, she gave me that same sinister smile I had seen before, and said, "O.k. Jenifer. Let's see how best to have you pose".

Paul seemed right at home in the company of Mrs. Slate, the Sullivans and Lizzy, who decided to sit this one out, as Francesca mulled over her options. "I got it", she said, "Jenifer. Place your right foot on the lowest bleacher and put your right hand on your knee. I did as she instructed, as she personally placed my left foot where she wanted it, while telling me to place my left hand on my hip. She stood behind me with her hands placed on the sides of my waist, nudging me right into the position she wanted me in. I was in view of all of the student artists while practically giving the volleyball team on the right side of the court, and almost full-frontal view of me. She then instructed me to turn my head to the left as if I were gazing off into the distance, leaving me looking in the direction of the team on the left side of the court.

I immediately recognized that she was making sure I saw the players, while they were seeing me. It was devious, yes, but not inappropriate, so I knew I would have to comply with her chosen position for me. Everyone was in place and the moment of truth had arrived. It was time for me to remove my robe and take my pose in front of the almost fifty people in the gymnasium at the time. It was nerve racking, but I knew I had to remain calm and somewhat nonchalant in my nudity, if I were to be prepared to model for Felix. I removed my robe, handed it to Francesca, then took my position. Standing stark naked in the immense space of the gym, while in view of everyone in attendance, had me feeling so puny and helpless. The sensations of vulnerability and empowerment are usually at odds with each other, but at that exact moment, they were at equally soaring levels, as I tried to come to grips with my present circumstances.

Paul had made his way into my view from the left. Standing totally naked in front of my new husband, in the midst of almost 50 clothed strangers, was nothing short of traumatic. Knowing the distance between fantasy and reality can be a single step or a mile long leap, depending on one's attitude and psyche at the time, had me on pins and needles. Paul had all but extinguished my anxiety when he gave me a subtle wink, a well disguised thumbs up, and an endearing reassuring smile, then faded off behind me, as if to say, "It's all good Jen!" I emptied every thought from my mind, just long enough for me to understand and accept my circumstances. "O.k. I 'm Naked", I thought to myself. "I was the one who agreed to pose in the nude, and now I'm naked", I continued thinking. "I'm supposed to be naked.", I reasoned, in an attempt to convince myself that my public nudity was somehow dignified.

Knowing Francesca strategically had me facing the volleyball player's practice, in an attempt to test my nerve, I decided to use the view to my advantage. Rather than allow it to become a hinderance, "I'll just watch the practice", I thought to myself. It wasn't long before I remembered only half of the players from each team were going to be on the court at one time, while the others were on the bench, once their practice began. This would leave the rest of the players, both male and female, time and opportunity to get in their short glimpses, long stares or even possibly acquire some ill-gotten photos, of my tiny naked form. The idea had me feeling so exposed, yet totally invigorated. Knowing my public nudity was sanctioned my Mrs. Slate, Francesca and the Sullivans (all members of the college art program staff), allowed me the chance to at least attempt, to enjoy the moment.

The one favorable advantage of my pose was the fact that my facial expressions were mostly concealed from those directly around me. Having to maintain a particular expression can be just as hard as holding a pose. The volleyball players had the best angles to see my face, but they were quite some distance away from where I was posing. I could barely see Paul and the others off to my left, yet still reminded myself not to appear to be having too much fun. Remember. It was only a few short days ago that I questioned my husband about his motives for having me remove my top on the Carribean beach and go topless among the crowd. I also remembered him replying to my question with an honest answer. He wanted to parade my naked body around the beach, because it made him feel lucky to be him, as he so eloquently put it. Well, there was no beach, but Paul's fantasy had been realized. His wife was naked in public.

I did realize while holding my pose, there was one major difference between this class and yesterday's class in Mrs. Slate's classroom, other than the number of spectators. It was the noise! The instructors were talking amongst themselves, the students were chatting on and off with each other, and the volleyball players were making all sorts of commotion at the other end of the gymnasium. You can't image what a stress relief 'Noise' can be for a nude model. You are reminded that people are going about their business, even if 'You' are naked. You are not under a microscope, even if it feels that way for a few minutes. After a short while, it can be quite liberating, if you let it.

My mind was racing yet my body remained still, as I held both my pose and my line of sight, while surveying the other end of the gymnasium. I was watching the two teams play, when I noticed one of the male players on the blue and gold team, was holding a drink cup and hand towel in his left hand. In his right hand was a cleverly disguised cellphone, that was pointed directly at me. Every fiber of my being, along with every instinct I've ever had, told me to cover up my shame and expose the young illicit photographer, yet I held fast in my position. I even turned my eyes slightly right, so as not to be seen looking directly at the young man's phone camera. I maintained a slight smile as I was hoping his photos would make their way to my cell phone. It was the closest I've ever come to my version of Utopia! Or so I thought at the time.

Knowing I had my husband's approval, I was finally able to relax and enjoy my circumstances, when I heard Francesca's unwelcome words, as she announced, "O.k. Jenifer. You can take a break now". I stood up straight and suddenly realized, I had no idea what it would be like to be totally naked amongst so many dressed people when not in my pose! I turned to Francesca for my robe. Almost in panic mode, I watched as she turned her head to her left, indicating my robe was on the bleachers, next to Paul, Mrs. Slate, Lizzy and the Sullivans. I had no choice but to walk across our side of the gymnasium floor, if I wanted to retrieve it, which I did. Knowing every eye would be on me, I turned my focus to Paul and started across the gym floor, hoping he would meet me halfway with my robe, but he did not.

Every ounce of my self-esteem, along with every shred of my dignity seemed to be siphoned from me, with each and every step I took across the gymnasium floor. I felt like such a spectacle, in the midst of so many clothed people whose prying eyes, I was sure, were focused on me. I made my way towards my husband, Lizzy and the three college art instructors, but most importantly, my robe. The emotional intensity of having no idea who might me looking, staring, or even snapping pictures of me, had me both uneasy yet utterly stimulated, as I was finally in reach of my robe. I looked to Paul, hoping he was still enthusiastic about my public nudity, as I felt the terrycloth fabric of the robe, that was draped across the bleacher seats.

Paul's expression revealed his continued approval of my public nudity. He has told me how this scenario was his fantasy, so I used the opportunity to explore my own agenda. That's when I suddenly felt a hand pull mine away from my robe. "Oh...Forget that silly thing, Jenifer!" It was Lizzy! She was preventing me from retrieving the robe, as she took my hands and maneuvered me right in front of her, and said, "Oh, Jenifer! It's like visiting my past!" Having no idea how to respond, I just smiled at the old lady, realizing we were practically the same size. Lizzy took me by the arm and started walking me away from Paul, Mrs. Slate and the Sullivans, and most importantly, the protection of my robe.

"Oh, how I miss the thrill of walking around totally naked!", Lizzy quietly admitted. "You mean 'Nude', right?", I meekly questioned, feeling more and more vulnerable as we continued to walk. "Forget that rubbish sweetheart!", she said. "When you are posing, you are nude. When you're not posing, you are naked! Period!", as she continued to lead me away from any possible cover for my nakedness. Every step away from Paul and the others, was a step closer to the volleyball practice that was going on at the other end of the gymnasium. Suddenly I heard Lizzy say, in a low tone, yet with such excitement, "Oh... The euphoria!", she whispered. "Can you feel it?", she asked. I knew the sensation she was referring too, but it had escaped me as we approached the half court mark of the gymnasium.

"Shouldn't I be getting back to pose?", I asked her. "Most of today's students are novices when it comes to life modeling", she replied. "Continuing to get you more exposure is more important right now. They can wait", she said. "I'm pretty sure I can't be any more exposed than I am right now", I whispered. "Not your body sweetheart, your mind and your psyche", she replied, as she led me across the gymnasium at the half court line, leaving me in view of everyone in attendance. Out of nowhere, she asked, "Will you be posing with or without pubic hair, my dear?" Feeling the question was overly personal, I replied, "I heard Felix doesn't like his models to be without pubic hair?" "Nonsense!" was her immediate response. "I've posed for Felix more than once without so much as a stubble of hair on my vagina, and that was before it was 'A Thing'. I admit, I mostly did it for the shock value. I knew those around us felt much more awkward about my nudity, than I ever did. It was both liberating and empowering", she continued.

Completely taken back by both Lizzy's admission and her candidness as she spoke about her past, I blurted out, "You've posed for Felix Laconia?" She was so cavalier in her reply, as she said, "Oh yes dear. Of course, that was many years ago, before he became so famous and respected in the art world. We met in our late twenties on the Italian Riveira. Felix would coax me into removing my clothes everywhere from the beaches to the public gardens. "Life Modeling' was such an admired form of the arts in Italian society, that no one ever said a word. People would stop to satisfy their curiosity, then go on about their business, as I posed in the nude for him. I posed in all sorts of public places. We were both so carefree in those days", she fondly remembered.

[FunKelly]

After leading me to the opposite side of the gym, Lizzy took a seat on the bleachers at half court. She tapped the seat beside her, indicating for me to sit too. I took a seat next to her, crossing my legs to conceal my clean-shaven pussy from the onlookers. "So .... Jenifer?", she questioned. "So what?", I asked. "Are you enjoying the liberation that comes from shedding those suffocating clothes? Isn't it empowering to be rid of the confines of the social norm?" I had no idea how to verbally respond, so I just nodded, "Yes", figuring that was the answer she was hoping for. "Good", she replied. Lizzy then turned towards me, and said, "I want you to pose for me this coming Saturday at my home. How about it?" Before I could reply, she added, "I've taken the liberty of checking with Paul first, and he is in agreement that any and all opportunities to prepare you for posing for Felix, should be utilized". "Of course, he is", I thought to myself.

Anxious to change the subject, I asked Lizzy, "When was the last time you were in contact with Felix?" Her reply should have been expected, but somehow came as a great surprise to me. "This morning", she said. "Felix and I first kept in contact by phone, while writing letters to each other on occasion. Then email came along, and we kept up that way. Now we pop in and out on each other through our phones". I couldn't believe it, but my next question just fell out of my mouth. "Were you two romantically involved?" "Everyone was romantically involved in those days sweetie", was her simple reply, as she instructed me to retake my pose, while she walked back across the gymnasium floor, leaving me standing there, naked and alone at half court.

I quickly made my way along the bleachers to the safety of the student artists and the posing area, then took my position. In a failed attempt to psychologically switch my psyche from 'Naked' to 'Nude, I tried focusing on my pose. Still, I felt like I was under the personal microscope of all who were present. I could only imagine what their individual interpretations of my public nudity was. I was naked and they were not! That's all I knew. It was an emotion I had been dreading. If you ask me, I graduated from 'Novice' life model to 'Semi-Experienced' life model at that exact moment in time. I say that because I held my pose with fortitude, regardless of the overwhelming urge to cover my shame.

I focused on the scoreboard that was mounted on the wall at the other end of the gymnasium. It was positioned up and to the right of where the volleyball players were practicing. I just didn't possess the courage needed to look at the player's faces, as they were looking at me, so I held my pose and continued to focus on the blank scoreboard. Just when I felt slightly at ease in my nudity, the steel doors leading to the gymnasium from outside, opened up. I almost fainted as I watched four friends of the volleyball players, three females and one male, walk into the gymnasium. Surprising as it may seem, they failed to notice the naked girl, stuck in her pose, at the other end of the gymnasium. I went from staring at the blank scoreboard to scanning the other end of the court and back again.

Making sure I had no eye-to-eye contact with the newcomers, I held my position. While going from focusing on the scoreboard to surveying the other end of the gym, I noticed one of the female newcomers was positionedt behind the male from her group and was taking pictures of me with her cell phone. I felt helpless to do anything, as I held my pose, refocusing on the scoreboard. Unable to calculate the time I had been posing for this segment, I could only hope the utter humiliation of my total naked exposure to these newcomers, would soon come to an end. Yet for some reason, I thought to myself, "I can't wait to see any of the naked photos of me, that may have been sent to my cell phone".

While I was still reeling from the recent turn of events, the door leading outside from the gym, opened once again. This time two young men walked in. They instantly recognized that there was a naked woman, standing at the other end of the gymnasium. They pulled out their cell phones to take pictures, when Francesca stepped between me and the afternoon's newest onlookers. My eyes became watery as I saw, she was holding my robe. Of all people to come to my rescue, it turned out to be Francesca! She looked me in the eye, and sternly said in a low tone, "Jenifer! Relax. Now casually take the robe, as you continue to talk with me". I was dumbfounded, as she continued, "Slowly take the robe from me and put it on as if you don't care if you have it or not".

I did as Francesca instructed and slowly put on my robe, while appearing to be making small talk. Finally having some cover for my naked body, I looked to Francesca, and asked, "Why are you helping me?" She started walking around and encouraging me to do the same, and replied, "Because you're going to let me taste your pussy, Jenifer". "No Francesca! No! I am not!", I insisted, as we both unbendingly whispered to each other. Her response was perfect for the situation. "A girl can hope, can't she?", she replied, as she winked at me, then walked over to assist the student artists. I felt abandoned, as I stood alone with only a single vestige of clothing, as all eyes seemed to be looking at me. Well, that's how it felt to me.

Standing in the gym amongst the many clothed people, but now wrapped in the security of my terrycloth robe, I started thinking to myself, "I can understand how walking into a community college gymnasium and finding a naked girl, posing for some art students at the other end of the court, would trigger the immediate reflex of pulling out your phone and taking a video and/or some pictures. I understand that! I get it! The problem with getting 'It', is that 'It' did nothing to alleviate my anxiety, since I was the one who has been, and will soon be again, totally naked in front of everybody in the college gymnasium!

Paul and the Sullivans joined me, while Mrs. Slate met up with Francesca and the student artists. Elaine said, "Jenifer. This environment is perfect for some 'on the job training', so to speak". As she was giving her synopsis, more people entered the gymnasium from the outside. There must have been at least a dozen individuals enter through the doors, as I felt every essence of courage drain from my existence. "Hello Jenifer!", came the heavy Jamaican accent of my new friend, Amicia, as she was waving for me to come join her. Robert looked at me, and said, "Well, Jenifer. Are you going to introduce us to your friend?" "Of course," I replied, as the four of us started walking to the other end of the gymnasium for the first time. Lizzy seemed content just watching from a distance.

The women's volleyball uniforms were skimpy at best, and the men's skintight shirts and snug shorts were hardly any better. For a split second, I felt protected from the shelter of my robe. New arrivals continued to enter the gym and I could feel the stares of all those around me. Knowing they must have already been informed that some girl was posing in the nude, for an art class in the gymnasium, I held fast to my robe, dreading the moment I would have to relinquish it. Many of those in the gym must have been wondering if and when I was going to remove my robe and resume my pose. The ever-increasing number of people in the gym had me feeling overwhelmed. The crowd of almost fifty people who were present when I first started posing, had now swelled to at least eighty.

Introducing Paul and the Sullivans to Amicia was a welcome distraction. I felt so puny yet somehow safe, when I was in her company. After the introductions were complete, Amicia took my hand, and said, "Jenifer. I speak to you privately, yes?", as she led me away from Paul and the Sullivans. Amicia's brawny grip on my hand was both reassuring, yet a bit unnerving, as she led me into a hallway right outside of the men's shower. She spun me around as if I were a ragdoll, and asked, "Jenifer! My new American friend! Do you like your surprise?" I was completely baffled, when I asked, "Surprise? What surprise, Amicia?", I asked. I almost fainted when I heard her answer.

"Jenifer! My new American friend! You said to me when we were upstairs, "Yup. That's me! The naked American 'Art Girl' with the bald pussy, who enjoys displaying her naked body! Is this not what you said to me", she asked, looking for my approval. "Amicia! I was being facetious!", I replied. "What is 'Facetious'? she asked. Amicia had reminded me of my ill-advised statement to her when we first met, but her genuine smile had put me at ease, so I quietly said, "It's fine Amicia. It's all good". We went back out to the court, only to find the number of people had increased by at least another ten individuals. Almost ninety dressed people were spread though out the vast space. I was petrified!

Mrs. Slate indicated it was time to re-take my position by the artists. Practically crippled with fear, I made my way up the court as she, Lizzy, Paul, The Sullivans and Francesca had all congregated near the bleachers across from the posing area. I met up with everyone, happy to have some privacy. I wanted to explain how I think we should move the class back upstairs, in light of the recent turn of events. Before I could utter a word, Elaine Sullivan said, with a controlled enthusiasm, "Jenifer! This situation is perfect! I don't know how they came about but the circumstances could not be better. You are very fortunate to have an opportunity like this. This is very close to the atmosphere you can expect at Felix's exhibition." She scanned the gymnasium, and quietly repeated, "Very fortunate".

All nodded in agreement, as I looked to my husband, Paul for help. The expression of anticipation, plastered across his face, affirmed I could not avoid the upcoming public humiliation. Francesca said, "I'll walk you over Jen", almost sounding empathetic to my plight. Once in the posing area, I waited to remove my robe while the artists re-took their places on the bleachers. Jenifer stood before me, and whispered, "It's time to take off your robe, Jen", once again, appearing to show compassion. The moment of truth was here. Lizzy and Felix were right. The indignity of surrendering my last vestige of cover, would be nothing short of being the most excruciating ordeal, I had ever experienced. With the number of spectators approaching 100, at least forty of them had not yet seen me naked.

Remembering how I had told myself earlier, that this was just a job, I stiffened my spine, removed the robe and handed it to Francesca. I quickly re-took my pose and stared back up at the scoreboard again. The fear running through my veins was the only thing keeping me standing upright, as I heard the unmistakable sound of cell phone cameras going off. Robert Sullivan headed down the court, and asked, "Folks. Please show our model some courtesy, and refrain from taking pictures. Thank you", then turned around and waked back to the others. Knowing Robert had no authority to uphold the rules of the art classroom in the public venue of the gymnasium, I could do nothing but appreciate his efforts as the clicking of the cell phone cameras continued. Even Paul had made his way to half court to take some of his own! WTF?

Knowing I was confined to this prison of utter shame and exposure, I decided to defiantly hold my pose. I then started to survey the crowd of spectators, most of who were observing me. Even with this mountain of shame and humiliation weighing upon me, I still started wondering how many photos were being sent to my phone, and would they allow me to remember this moment, fondly? On occasion, I even focused on some the picture taker's cell phone camera lens', hoping I might see 'Naked Me' staring back at 'Clothed Me', later, in my cell phone. How someone could possibly feel both euphoric and mortified at the same time is a mystery to me, but I promise you, one can. It's amazing what the mind will do, in order to distract the body, while it's going through such a humbling experience. I was actually becoming aroused again.

Just when I was enjoying what should have been my total shame and vulnerability, Francesca announced the segment was over. Suddenly emotionally thrusted from 'Empowered Life Model' to 'Embarrassed Naked Girl', I looked to her for my robe. How quickly we forget. Huh? She smiled at me and looked towards Paul and the others, where I saw my robe once more, placed on the bleachers on the other side of the gymnasium. Her empathy was short lived, as I found myself having to bear the indignity of again walking across the gymnasium, totally naked. I focused on Lizzy, since Paul was nowhere to be seen, as I walked across the gym to the sound of cell phone cameras clicking away on my right. Lizzy was giving me a look, as I approached her. I instinctively knew it was about me putting the robe back on.

Now in the company of the instructors and Lizzy, minus my husband, I did feel safe. I also knew I was faced with one question, and one question only. "Robe or no robe!" Since my husband was MIA, I decided 'Not' to wear a robe. Remembering the horrific ordeal, I went through the last time I had to remove it, I decided on the lesser of the two poisons. I mean really! Anyone who wanted photos of me, already had them by now. So....I remained completely naked but stayed with the instructors and Lizzy. I was starting to get concerned about Paul and his psyche, when he walked through the gymnasium doors. I quickly met him, then discretely moved him back through the gym doors. Once in the hallway, I looked at him with daggers in my eyes, and asked, "Where were you?"

He seemed so pleased to see I was still naked when he turned into the teenage boy, I knew all too well, and replied, "The men's room", still enamored with my naked body. "This long?", I asked. One look at his expression told me everything I needed to know! I screamed at him in a whisper, and said, "Paul! Did you just jerk off in the men's room?" Holding the same satisfied expression on his face, he replied, "I had to. I was getting a hard on". I took my husband's hand, leaned against him and looked up, and said, "I can't believe I married such a pervert!", as I reached up to kiss him. After our PDA moment, I looked up again, and asked, "So. You're good with all this?" His reply was exactly what I should have been hoping for, "Look but don't touch", was all he said, as he kissed me again.

I squeezed Paul's hand, then led my six-foot tall, twenty-five-year-old, adolescent husband back into the gymnasium, feeling relaxed and comfortable in my nudity. I remained with Paul and the others throughout the modeling session, whenever I was not posing. I don't know how many pictures of me were taken, but I was still hoping there was plenty of evidence of my second nude modeling experience, waiting for me on my cell phone. Francesca interrupted my mental bliss, and said, "It's time Jen". My new-found courage, thanks to Paul, allowed me the fortitude to walk across the gymnasium with my head held high.