The Private Sessions of an Art Nude Model

 The Private Session of an Art Nude Model

Long before my first private session, I had learned to read a room full of artists as an art nude model. I knew when someone was studying lines and when someone’s looks lingered too long. When it was professional and when it wasn’t. When he asked for a private session, I told myself that it would be the same dynamic. It would be one artist and all focus.

The difference became apparent immediately!

There was no one talking, no noises of multiple bodies doing artist things. Just the tension between two people as I undressed and took my position. It was a deliberate dance, a shift in the energy.

He studied me for a while, then instructed me into a pose. His words were quiet and careful. Adjust your leg, turn your face, raise your arm. Each instruction asks me to expose more lines, more angles, more of myself. Being an art nude model means following and trusting the direction and being able to take it.

As my body became fatigued, holding pose after pose, I became aware of my body. There was not just the ache of my muscles, but an ache in my belly. This man would touch me and adjust me, gaze at my nude body. Studying angles of my hips, the shadows my breasts made, and deliberately posing my body. I could feel his heat as I struggled to make my body hold in the places he asked me to.

Each contact was brief, clinical even… till it wasn’t. Then each touch became another poke to that building fire.

When he suggested a break for his art nude model, I welcomed it! I put my robe back on, but the thin fabric did little to cool the burn that had been building. He poured me some water, and we stood a little closer than we needed to. Our conversation of the piece fell away, and his hands touched my robed body. He touched me with a different intention, and the flame became a blaze.

As an art nude model, I’m used to being looked at.

Even posed sometimes, but his touch changed how deeply I felt it. His hand on my waist, his fingers pulling the robe away from my naked flesh, was slow and deliberate. Every moment of it was a silent study in art for him and a slow unfurling for me as his muse.

As he explored my body, I explored his. It was a give-and-take of touches and kisses. The pleasure burned bright. The attention he gave my form as he drew me was the same attention he gave our lovemaking. He wanted to learn me, he wanted to feel the curves and shadows he had been drawing as his art nude model, he wanted to memorize everything he saw and touched.

There was no performance and no expectation, no need to exaggerate the movements of my body or impress a class with my drawable lines. He was confident and unapologetic, and I was warm and receptive to every touch and sensation.

When we were done, I returned to the platform to be his art nude model.

I was naked as I had been before, but it was different now. My skin was warm and tingling from his touch. My poses were built from the intimacy we had just shared. I was vulnerable in a different way; it was not just a clinical vulnerability, it was a deeper feeling, the kind that comes from shared intimacy.

He resumed drawing his art nude model, but it was more focused and calm. He finished quickly as he no longer had to create the drawing from a body in front of him, but he had memorized my lines with his hands and his mouth in intimate ways that left little to the imagination.

Being an art nude model isn’t just about stillness and form; it’s also about when looking becomes knowing and quietly asks for more.

If you want to hear all  the steamy details of your fantasy girl as a model or when I was Santa’s Naughty Helper, call me!

Call Mya 1-800-244-0699