LIFE MODELLING

For many years I worked intermittently as a 'life' (nude) model.  The work was at various venues where I became acquainted with hidden communities made up of ordinary, friendly people which I got to know and like.  Poses were decided by the instructor, sometimes with suggestions from the model.  I found a wide range of sexuality in the positions; some were as modest as a nude can be; some people would regard others as pornographic.   I thought the art world ambivalent about sexuality.  On the one hand, most tutors I worked with seemed reticent about their classes being a sexually stimulating experience whilst many of the class clearly did appear to be stimulated, as far as I could tell.

Also there was the question of how far a drawing represents the reality of the model.  Many drawings, painting and sculptures represent some kind of de-sexualised version of reality - ladies with flat breasts, no pubic hair, no clitoris or vagina, men with penises more like those of young boys.  The reality of the models of course is that we are ordinary men and women with big penises, big exposed glans, hanging breasts, in some cases nearly to their waists and vagina lips wide open.

I often wonder what motivated tutors, models and artists.  Some models and tutors would probably regard it as an easy and enjoyable way of supplementing their income.  Some of them worked as nude barmaids or waitresses in gentlemen's clubs, or as nude cleaners, for example.  For ladies who enjoy showing their bodies, there are opportunities for earning extra money in the gentlemen's clubs near where I live.  The Internet has allowed an explosion in the number of people showing themselves in the nude, but a model at a club or at a drawing class gets the extra stimulation of seeing the viewers' reactions.  

Before working in art schools I had very little experience of modelling.  When I was in my 20s I worked for Brighton Council in a job which involved visiting people in their own homes.  One day I was visiting a lady in her 60s in her quite sumptuous flat on the seafront.  She wanted someone to chat with.  She made tea and told me about her hobby as an artist.  She was finding it difficult to get models.  I could see where she was leading and became aroused.  Before she asked, I volunteered.  I had got used to being naked on the nudist beach at Shoreham Harbour and enjoyed it enormously.  In the evening two days later I found myself naked in front of her and a group of her friends.  I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did.

Art Schools

Fast forward several years and a move to a new job 150 miles away.  I replied to an advertisement for life models in a local newspaper.  It was in a town about 12 miles away - in an art school in a narrow alleyway in the centre of town.  I had passed the end of the alley many times before without knowing the art school was there.  At the reception I asked for the tutor.  The lady receptionist directed me to the top floor, away from the other school activities. There I was met by two lady tutors aged about 25 and 40.  After a coffee and chat about their work I way taken to the studio where the artists, mostly young ladies, were assembling their equipment.  I was shown into a makeshift enclosure.  As I was to find out, models are always shown somewhere to undress in private: in the art world seeing a nude model in their underwear is frowned upon!

As I walked naked to the platform at the front of the studio, the class directed their eyes firmly on their work.  A naked man, completely shaven, walking past a class of around 20, mostly ladies, apparently did not distract their attention.  I was put in position by the tutors.  50 minutes in the spotlight was very enjoyable.  I put my clothes on for a 20-minute break talking to the instructors and some of the class.  This was followed by another session of about 50 minutes.  Afterwards, the tutors offered me another slot and told me about other venues wanting models.

Soon I learned that there was a whole network of art tutors.  I received a phone call from a male instructor in an art school about 15 miles away.  He asked about my measurements.  (Perhaps the organisers of life classes exchange comments on models' figures and told him about my big bum.)  He invited me for a session.   After the usual coffee and chat, I was shown into a small room off the studio where there was a screen for me to undress in private.   The tutor came to see me to explain what he wanted.  I went into the studio where the class was assembling.  I was put into position: I was sitting the wrong way in an armchair, one thigh resting on each arm and my chest resting on the top of the back of the chair.  It was a comfortable position giving a pleasant stretching of my thighs with my cheeks wide apart.

Another pose was leaning backwards, elbows on a high chair, legs apart.  The tutor showed his approval.  Another pose involved lying on a table on my side, head propped up by one arm and with legs apart.  We both always enjoyed ourselves and I think the classes did too.  

Above the Pub

Several years later, I found out that there were at least two groups running sessions near to where I live.  One was above a pub, the other in a church hall. 

I had a spell of appointments with a class organised by a lady of about 40 with neatly trimmed, short dark hair, in the upstairs room of a pub on weekday evenings.  She told me that models were not always reliable and sometimes she acted as substitute.  A problem for organisers of life drawing classes is that their lady models sometimes have to withdraw because it is the wrong time of the month for them.  Sometimes she would join the model as a twosome.  Clearly, she enjoyed showing her beautiful body.  She had worked as a model before becoming a tutor and also made short films for the Internet.  She said it excited her to think of being seen in all her glory any time of day or night.  Undressing was in the toilets adjacent to the function room.  As she took down her neat white knickers she revealed her open lips with her clitoris already showing her excitement.  Like me, she was completely shaven.

We walked out of the toilets and onto a raised platform in the corner of the function room.  She turned on the spotlight.  Her nipples already showing her excitement.  She showed her love of opening her vagina.  As the session progressed, her clitoris would usually become moist, perhaps with a spontaneous orgasm.  It was not a problem for me to maintain a decent erection in such company; more of a problem was to refrain from having a spontaneous ejaculation. 

After the class, we returned to the toilets.  We sniffed each other's knickers avidly.  Knowing that by that time of day, they would have been rubbing our private parts for several hours almost made me ejaculate.....

In the Church Hall

The appointments I have mentioned so far were in the evenings when people with daytime occupations could attend.  Another series of appointments was with a man in his mid 50s at a church hall.  Most of the class were mature ladies, some possibly connected to the church.  The tutor was always careful to cover the windows in the door with a notice 'Please knock before entering' in case someone connected to the church came along thinking it was a 'bring and buy' or coffee morning.

Like the classes above the pub, there were some short, 5-or 15- minute poses for positions difficult to hold, as well as a longer pose.  On about half the sessions I worked with lady models in relatively modest poses.  I was always happy to allow the artists to take photographs of me to finish their drawings; in fact, I encouraged them.  Most of the artists were reticent about asking to take photos in case I would object to them using them for purposes other than finishing their drawings.  I have no reason to think that any of them did, and didn't mind anyway.  In fact, I liked the thought of them and others wanting to see me naked.

Comparisons  

There were many similarities in all the appointments I have mentioned and in others I have had: the format was always a session of about 50 minutes, a break for coffee and a chat, then another session of about 50 minutes.  The break was an opportunity to talk to the members of the class about their expectations for nude modelling sessions and if they had been left unfulfilled, perhaps arrange private sessions. 

I always keep my body hair shaven.  The art world appears ambivalent about pubic hair.  Some regard shaving as immodest, perhaps because it makes the genitals more clearly visible.  I always keep my foreskin back, lodged under the overhang of my knob end.  I feel I have been lucky with the size of my knob end.  I guess there were mixed feelings about it, although the tutors or class never remarked on it - the tutors rarely remarked openly about our bodies - just an occasional compliment.

I was told that there were a few men working at the same venues as I did but I never met any other male nudes at these sessions.  At the church hall about half the sessions I attended also had a lady model.  They were of all ages from about 20 - 60s, all shapes and sizes: what they had in common was a lack of self-consciousness about their bodies.  Indeed, there was no reason for them to be: all were beautiful in their own special ways. 

Private Sessions  

I think that the positions chosen by some of the tutors were those acceptable to those wanting modest poses.  This left some of the class wanting something more.  Opportunities to strip off after the class were limited so some of the artists and myself arranged private sessions where we could all be naked and show everything unashamed. 

They started during the break at one of the sessions in the church hall.  One of the artists, a plus-size lady of about 50 told me that she was a member of a group which met in her home and asked me whether I would pose for them.  I accepted gladly.  When I arrived at her home, two ladies were already there.  They invited me to join them for tea. Others arrived, usually about 6 altogether.  Soon after, our host began to take her clothes off and invited us to take a shower.  I became very hard when she was down to her thong.  I almost had an orgasm watching our host's magnificent dimpled bum as she led the way upstairs.  The shower was rather crowded but very friendly.  There was a lot of touching, tit and penis fondling before we returned to the living room for the evening art session.  

Sometimes we used the same venues as those for the classes arranged by the tutors; but this time we were all able to show our bodies completely and unashamedly.  Showing, touching, fondling and masturbating using the most intimate parts of our bodies were not to be ashamed of: they were expressions of shared values and friendship.  Most of those attending were mature ladies, perhaps divorced or widows, some of them in their 60s or 70s.  Some remarked that they hadn't even touched a penis or shown their shaven lady parts to anyone for years.  For example, some liked to lie down on their backs, open their legs wide and show their vagina lips wide open with the experience of toys, masturbation, childbirth or whatever; others liked to show their bum crevices wide open.

Not far away there are several pools in an area which is often used for nude activities.  Sometimes on a warm summer morning we would meet for a swim.  It is not suitable for drawing but is a lot of fun and is good for photography.  Ironically, we found out about this by a letter in a local newspaper complaining of nudes having sex in and around the pools.  Maybe others were too: we were joined by several men and women.