Indecent Exposure

What happened when I modeled nude for an art class

When I was in college I would often take studio art courses, and it was not unusual to have a nude model posing for the class. They were almost always women, but in one class there was a guy who modeled for a while. The first thing that went through my mind when he dropped his robe, aside from the thought that his body was nothing special, was that if I ever tried that I'd have a rock hard erection. Still, I was captivated by the idea of modeling for an art class. The thought of a room full of people studying my nakedness was very appealing. It would also be very arousing, which is why I never really considered it.

Years later, however, after I had been working at Cornell University for some time, I saw a flyer in an athletic facility advertising for nude models to pose for an art class. I figured that maybe after all these years I should give it a try. I started thinking about why I shouldn't do it, but decided to shelve those concerns and just go for it. I took down the number and called as soon as I got back to my desk. I spoke to a secretary who took my name and told me that they would call me when they needed someone.

A week or so later I got a call from the instructor. She was a very nice woman, and she told me about the course. It was drawing from an anatomic perspective. For each class they would focus on a specific set of muscles, and the model would strike three poses for about twenty minutes each. The poses were taken from classical works that accentuated the muscle groups in question. She told me she had a few classes where she still needed models, one of which was for shoulders and back. I figured that this would be the safest, because if anything went "wrong" I'd have my back to the students. I decided to throw caution to the wind and agreed to do it.

In the days that led up to the class I began to play out scenarios in my mind. I knew from talking to people who had done modeling that the difficult part was staying absolutely still for twenty or more minutes at a time. I expected that the stimulation of the situation might cause some erection problems at first, but that the effort required to hold the pose would quickly distract me and that an erection would be unlikely from then on. Still, I wanted to minimize the possibilities of that initial erection in any way I could. My plan was to over-sex myself to the point that my penis would be too worn out to become erect. I began masturbating every day, sometimes ejaculating two or three times in a single day. The morning of the class I masturbated in the shower. Although the class wasn't until much later that afternoon, there would be no convenient opportunity to masturbate again once I'd left for work.

Hours before I was to leave for the class I was so nervous that I couldn't concentrate on my work. When it was finally time to go, I left my office and made the long walk to the building where the class was held. I tried to keep my mind off erections, but I could feel my dick pressing against my jockey shorts as I walked. I decided to use the meditation technique of breath counting to keep myself from thinking about my penis. The plan was to use that technique when I was actually modeling as well.

I finally got to the building and found the room. I was instantly aghast to find that the students were arranged in a large circle rather than all at one end of the room. This undermined my assumption that I would have my back to everyone in the event that I started having "problems." I was so nervous at this point that I really just wanted to get started, but I had to sit and wait through the lecture portion of the class where the instructor discussed the anatomy of the muscle groups in great detail, and covered the technical names for all the muscles in each group. I used the meditation to try to keep my mind off my penis, which still felt like it was already getting plump. All that masturbating in the previous days appeared to have absolutely no impact whatsoever.

Finally the lecture was over and it was time to get down to business. To my delight, all the students got up and congregated at one end of the room as I had originally expected them to. This was a relief, but the time of reckoning had come. I kicked off my shoes, removed my socks, unbuttoned my shirt, and pulled down my jeans. I lingered in my jockey shorts for a moment, but soon I pulled them over my butt, down my thighs, and then stepped out of them one foot at a time. There I was, bare naked in a room full of clothed people who were preparing to stare intently at my nude body. In all honesty I had no way to know the degree to which my penis was becoming erect, if any at all, because I had to keep my eyes off it. Glancing at it even for a moment would surely have caused it to spring into action.

I was very quickly distracted from my concerns as I listened to the instructor explain the way she wanted me to pose. I lay on the floor on my right side with my back to the students. My legs were extended to my left, and my right elbow was propped up on a chair, curving my spine and bringing my shoulders parallel with the floor. The students began to draw and I began to meditate. So far things were going according to plan. The fact that the students couldn't even see my penis removed a lot of the pressure, and with it a lot of the stimulation. The meditation, in addition to keeping my mind off my dick, also helped to pass the time as I remained as motionless as possible for minute after minute after minute.

Once twenty minutes had gone by I was starting to get a little restless. Eventually the instructor stood up. I expected her to say that this pose was done, but instead she said that there would be about five more minutes for people to finish up. About seven or eight minutes later she finally brought it to a close. At this point my thoughts were entirely on how sore my shoulder was after having been propped up like that for a good half hour. As the students put down their drawing utensils and got up to mill about, I very slowly and carefully took the weight off my shoulder. As my muscles began to loosen up I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. My penis seemed to be well under control. I rolled over onto my back lay flat on the floor with my arms still stretched over my head.

As I rolled over, however, my dick kind of flopped from one side over onto the other. This sensation stirred something in my loins, and all of a sudden my dick wasn't well under control anymore. I didn't panic, but rather just lay on my back and relaxed before I had to hold the next pose. I almost felt like I could drift off to sleep.

Soon the instructor called the students back to order and got me up to do the next pose. As I stood up I could feel that my dick was definitely not completely soft, but I ignored it as best I could as I walked over to the instructor in full view of the class. For the next pose I was to sit in a chair with both elbows propped up on a table in front of me, placing me in direct profile to the students. Although my dick was sort of in "chubby" status by this time, it was pretty well hidden down between my legs. But then the instructor had me keep my arms where they were and swivel the chair more toward the students to twist my torso. I swiveled just a little bit, but she kept saying, "Further... further." She didn't stop until my pelvis was practically facing the students, which made my penis much more visible. I knew this was going to be trouble.

I instantly went back to the meditation. As the students began their drawings I tried to keep my mind one hundred percent off my penis, but I couldn't help but feel it growing. The simple fact that I knew that other people could see it made the situation all the more stimulating. Slowly but surely I could feel it rising higher and higher, until it was up around the tops of my thighs. I tried to concentrate on the meditation, but it wasn't helping. My dick was on an unalterable course for boner city. The harder I meditated, the harder my dick was becoming. Eventually I glanced down and could see that it had risen above the level of my thighs and was in plain view.

My worst fears were being realized. I was in a formal academic setting, and I was getting a full erection. I don't have the biggest penis in the world, but when it gets hard it generally doesn't go unnoticed. I didn't know what to do. By this time it was practically stiff and the scene was quickly becoming pornographic. I knew that there was no way it was going to go back down again of its own accord. If I didn't do something it would stay like that for the duration of the pose.

I was becoming desperate. I contemplated saying something aloud to apologize and ask them to bear with me, but that would have only drawn attention to the situation and made matters worse. Instead I quickly broke my pose, tucked my dick under my left leg, and went right back to the pose again. Thank God it wasn't so hard that it wouldn't bend that way. I'm sure that people noticed what I'd done and knew exactly why I did it, but still no one said anything. The situation was more or less addressed and I began to relax, but I was essentially sitting on my fat cock and knew I would have to do so for the duration of the pose.

I continued to meditate as a way to pass the time. Once again the pose went on for about ten minutes longer than it was supposed to. As soon as the instructor brought it to a close I leapt up and ran for my clothes with my donkey dick flapping around as I went. I quickly threw on my jockey shorts and jeans. I sheepishly looked around the room, but no one seemed to be giggling or looking at me funny. I wanted to apologize to the instructor and make sure it wasn't too big of a deal, but she had disappeared through a door in the back of the room. I decided to just let it go. I wandered around the room to check out some of the drawings the students had made. In some my organ did seem to be conspicuously missing, but at least I saw no egregious erasures.

When it was time to do the third and final pose my penis had gone back to being more or less soft again. I was relieved to find that I would have my back completely to the students. I was to assume a standing contrapposto pose with one hand up above my head. I took my pants and underwear off and got into position. With my penis safely out of view it behaved itself this time. Once again I used the meditation to help pass the time, and once again it went on for about ten minutes longer than it was supposed to. By now my penis was pretty much completely under control and I half wished that the class would go on longer. After we were done and I got my clothes back on I contemplated pulling a student aside and asking if my erection in the second pose was really all that noticeable. Instead I just made a quiet exit.

A couple weeks later I got a call asking if I would model for a different class. I figured that at least the instructor hadn't reported me as being a disgusting pig that should be taken off the list. Although I knew the same thing would happen again if I did another class, I contemplated doing it anyway. I took down the instructor's name so that I could talk to him and warn him that this could be a problem, but I never wound up calling. I got one other call some time later, but declined that offer as well. I didn't received any more calls.

Epilogue

The preceding story took place before I had even created this website. After I started taking and posting nude pictures of myself, and once I adopted a practice of engaging in exhibitionist activities in exotic locations, it became more routine for me to be naked in front of other people. After a few years went by I decided to give nude modeling another try, assuming I would no longer have the problems I had the first time. I popped into the art department office one day and spoke to a secretary. She said they kept a list of people who wanted to pose, so I had her put my name on it.

I did wind up getting a call. I was a little nervous as I anticipated what would happen. When I arrived at the class and took my clothes off I got a little tingly down there, but I pretty much ignored it and it didn't become an issue. Holding the pose did distract me from it, and I didn't have to worry about it after that.

After that I would get a call every so often, and if I didn't have a work conflict I would accept. That period of time became quite interesting. If I had a gig I would just leave my office as if I had a meeting on campus or something, go get naked in front of other people for a couple of hours in the middle of the day, and return to my desk as if nothing had happened. No one was ever the wiser.

On one occasion, however, I was on a very busy project where we were in a group setting and generally glued to our desks all day. I had to specifically ask permission from the team lead to be absent for a couple of hours. She asked where I would be going. I could have made something up, but I decided to answer honestly, telling her that I would be modeling for an art class on campus. This was a little unusual, but since we were all working at a university it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. She agreed that I could spare the time, but she was curious and asked more about it. I said that it was a portrait class, so "...they'll let me keep my clothes on this time." You should have seen the look on her face when she realized that I routinely posed nude in front of classes of students. But she just shrugged her shoulders, said I was a very interesting person, and never mentioned it again.

I modeled for a number of classes under a number of professors. The experience was quite surreal. I was naked in front of a class full of clothed young men and women who were intently studying my exposed body. There was an erotic component to it, but it wasn't arousing. At least not while I was doing it. When the class went on breaks I wanted to stroll around nude, look at what the students were doing, and interact with them all the while naked as a jaybird, but that would totally have given me an erection. Instead I would usually pull on my jockey shorts and wait off to the side until it was time to start again. Once I was back home that night I would often masturbate to the thought of the experience, allowing myself to indulge in the erogenous aspect of it all.

But when I was posing I just saw it as work. And it was hard work. Holding the pose was a challenge in and of itself. I no longer meditated in my head to distract myself, but remaining motionless for a period of time was like a physical meditation. It was physically challenging first and foremost to use my muscles to hold my body in whatever pose I was in, but it was even more challenging to simply stay still. Try it some time. You don't realize how much you just naturally move your body without thinking until you try not to. You get fidgety after just a couple minutes. Doing it for an hour or more, even if the pose isn't physically challenging, still requires a kind of discipline that other people will never experience.

I developed techniques to try to help myself hold the exact pose the whole time. It started with focusing my eyes on a particular point in the distance. I found that if you keep your head still then the body will remain still in kind. It must have worked, because I would get compliments from the students from time to time. They said that other models would often sag and droop, or otherwise move slightly over the course of the pose, but I would stay rock solid.

I quickly learned the kinds of poses to avoid. My experience doing figure photography taught me that the more a pose hurt the better it looked. But there I only had to hold it long enough to snap the picture. It was a different story holding a pose for twenty minutes or more. A certain position might seem fine at first, but could become problematic after a little time. For example extending an arm out into space would become a nightmare after only a few minutes. In one case I was lying on my back with legs spread and knees bent. One leg lay flat on the ground while the other just kind of hung under its own weight. I thought it would be a breeze because I didn't need to exert any strength to hold it there, but it became very sore after just a little while. By the time the pose was finally over it was positively aching. From then on I was more judicious about the positions I got myself into. Picking the pose became a negotiation between me and the class. It had to be something that was interesting to draw, but still what I could realistically do.

The easiest poses were in the drawing classes. In particular, the "gesture drawings" were very brief. The point was that the students learn to quickly capture a gesture without getting into detail. The poses were literally just a minute or two each. The challenge was quickly striking a pose that was an interesting gesture, but one that was different each time. Because they were so brief I had to do multiple poses in quick succession, and it was tricky not to just do the same thing over and over again. But I found I was good at it. My practice photographing myself came in handy in those cases, because I was always trying to find a pose I hadn't done before, so I had some experience to work with. I didn't have to avoid difficult poses because they would be so quick, so I could do twist and flex without having to worry about holding it.

But even for the longer drawings the pose would usually only be for like 45 minutes max. Painting classes were harder, because it took longer for the students to complete the painting. I would have to hold the same pose for the full 3 hours class. I would get breaks in between, but then I'd have to get back into the same pose again. But the worst were the sculpture classes. Not only would I do the same pose all class long, but I'd have to return and to the pose again for like 3 classes in a row.

Different professors treated me differently. Many were very appreciative of my efforts, and conscientious about the physical demands. They would check in with me frequently and ask if I needed a break. Other professors treated me like a living mannequin. They expected me to just do whatever they wanted without complaint, and the acted very put upon if I needed to take a rest. I eventually developed a technique where I would break the pose momentarily to give my muscles a chance to recover, stretch a little, and then get right back into pose. It allowed me to do a pose for an extended time without having to take a full break.

One of the most problematic professors was one of the last gigs I ever did. Typically the teacher would give a brief lecture before the drawing started. I would sit patiently waiting for my part to start. When they were ready I'd just take my clothes off where I was standing like I was in the locker room, set them off to the side, and then step up onto the platform where I would pose.

This was quite routine. It was how I had always done it. No one had ever paid any attention to it at all. But on this occasion the professor freaked out. She came right over to me and said, "What are you DOING?"

I casually said, "I'm getting ready to pose." I didn't know what the problem was.

She said, "Well you can't just strip down HERE!

I stopped what I was doing and stood up. "Well where do you expect me to do it?" I asked.

"You're supposed to disrobe out of the room and come in wearing a robe," she said.

I couldn't believe it. "Well I didn't bring a robe with me," I replied.

She was absolutely nonplussed. She couldn't believe that I came there without a robe. It had never dawned on me. I didn't even own a robe. It had never been an issue before in any other class I had ever done. Not even once. But this lady was acting like I was being obscene.

She went off in a huff and dredged up a robe from somewhere. I snatched it away from her and walked out of the room. I came back in wearing just the robe, and as soon as I got in position I pulled it off, tossed it to the side, and said, "There, are you happy?" It was a total waste of time.

From that point on the class went pretty conventionally, except that the professor and I had a frosty attitude towards each other. As I stood there posing I pondered what it had all been about. I could envision the class all quiet and austere as the model entered wearing the robe, and a hush falling on them as the robe was dropped. It would create an air of formality, that the nude model was like a ceremonial object that they were to capture in art. By me taking my clothes off in front of everyone I was just some naked guy. I kind of got it, but I still thought it made her out to be a prude. The students paid no mind to it whatsoever. The only one who cared was her.

After that I did one or two more gigs, but then I stopped getting calls. It wasn't unusual for a prolonged period of time to pass before I would get another call, but after a year or so I inquired with the art department office. They said that they had outsourced to a temp agency in town, and I should sign up with them if I wanted to keep working. I gave them a call, but they said I would have to go through the whole hiring process, which involved submitting a W2 and everything. I decided It wasn't worth the bother. Nude modeling had been a fun and interesting part of my life for a couple of years, but it was time to leave it behind.

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