The Perfect Erotic Muse: I Was His Mona Lisa!

My very first modeling job turned into much more than just that.

To make some extra money while I was in college, I was a hostess at a little French restaurant in town.  And while I enjoyed it enough, it certainly wasn’t paying a ton.  One of the other hostesses at the restaurant asked me if I’d ever consider modeling.  Specifically, nude modeling.  She said she did it for a few off-campus art studios for their figure-drawing classes.  And it was a much easier way to make money than dealing with hungry, grumpy clientele.  She suggested I reach out to the art professor at school for any leads.  So I did.  And that’s how I ended up being the perfect erotic muse.

As soon as I got home from my shift, I perused the college website until I found Professor Jefferson’s info.  I felt a flutter of excitement just looking at the photo in his bio.  He didn’t look much older than me, although I’m guessing he was in his thirties, with ice-blue eyes that felt like he was looking into my soul.  I scrolled down to his office hours and decided I’d stop by before my biology lab tomorrow.

But when I tried to drift off to sleep, all I could think about was Professor Jefferson.  It wasn’t just that he was handsome, there was something in his eyes that gave me shivers.  The good shivers, of course.  Lazily, I circled my finger around my clit through my panties.  And I envisioned what it would feel like to be completely naked in front of him, to become the perfect erotic muse to all the students in class.  Next thing I knew my alarm was going off, I must have drifted off mid-fantasy.  So after changing my panties, I put on a cute dress and headed to campus.

Nervously, I knocked on the professor’s door.

“Come in,” I heard a deep voice say.  I pushed the door open and saw the most handsome man I’d ever seen sitting in front of me.  Professor Jefferson’s picture didn’t do him justice!  If I hadn’t believed in love at first sight before, I certainly did then.  He looked up at me quizzically, clearly not recognizing me as one of his students.  “How can I help you?”

I smoothed down my dress and shut the door behind me.  After a quick introduction, I explained why I was there and asked if he was in need of a model in any of his classes.  Surely, he was going to turn me away, I thought, as he held his chin in his hand and looked me up and down.  Then he stood up and walked behind me.  I was afraid he was going to open the door and tell me to get lost.  Instead, he put a hand on my shoulder.  A bolt of electricity shot through my body as he touched me.

“Well, Kayla,” he began.  “I appreciate your tenacity.  And while I don’t need any models for my classes here currently, I’m definitely looking for the perfect erotic muse for my personal work. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

I felt my face flush and my pussy yearn as he looked at me.  He tilted my face to the side with his hand, as if looking for any artistic imperfections.  All I could do was nod.  The butterflies in my stomach were telling me to say yes to anything he wanted.  If he wanted me to be his perfect erotic muse, my answer was absolutely!

“Perfect,” he said.  “Why don’t you cover over to my studio later?”  Then he scribbled his address on a piece of paper.

All I wanted was to be Professor Jefferson’s perfect erotic muse.

I was practically floating all day.  And I must have looked at my watch a thousand times waiting until it was time.  Sure, I’d had high school boyfriends who I’d been excited to be around.  But nothing felt as intense as the feeling I had toward Professor Jefferson.  And we’d only just met.  I couldn’t wait to take my clothes off in front of him, feeling his eyes on me, on every curve of my body.

Promptly at 8 p.m., I knocked on the door of his studio.  It was a tiny shed behind a much bigger house, one I assumed he lived alone in as there was only one car in the driveway and no ring on his finger that I’d seen.  He opened the door looking even more handsome than before, in paint-covered overalls and no shirt.  My mouth dropped as I took in his muscular arms and chest.

As I undressed behind the screen he’d set up, Professor Jefferson told me that he’d been an artist since he was a child.  But more recently, he’d wanted to get into painting nude figures.  He chuckled as he said it was almost like I was a sign from heaven when I showed up at his office that morning.

Then I came out from behind the screen, the dim light creating shadows on my naked body.  My breasts were perky, nipples hard, and my pussy clean shaven.  Professor Jefferson’s gasp was audible as I situated myself on the couch and looked up at him.  He didn’t say a word, only picking up his paintbrush and letting me become his perfect erotic muse.  All while I had a hot role play in my mind about becoming his new year romance.

Want to paint me like one of your French girls?

Call Kayla 1-888-964-0397