The Overtly Erotic Life Drawing Model

Another quickie. WARNING!! This is going in Incest, but it is SOFTCORE... well, mostly softcore, anyway. It's so soft, the story might be better suited for "Exhibitionism," had it not been for the underlying theme.

Many of you enjoy a big, bonding, climactic scene at the end. This doesn't work with one, so I left it out. All characters are of age, but one more warning: this story is too ridiculous and fantastical to take seriously. For those with reading comprehension problems, all sexual acts are consensual, and no fictional characters were harmed in the making of this story. In fact, they told me they loved it.

Hope you folks like it, regardless of how silly it is. :)

*****

My brother came through the front door moaning, tossing his backpack to the floor. I was in the kitchen, just off the foyer, starting dinner. The macaroni was boiling.

"You okay, Pete?" I asked.

"No. Not at all. I am in so much fucking trouble." He sauntered to the kitchen table, plopping in a chair. "I am so fucked tomorrow."

"What's going on?"

Pete and I shared an apartment while we attended university together. Being twins, we had always been close, but we weren't the type to share our darkest secrets. I suppose it was like most other healthy sibling relationships.

"Debbie dumped me."

Debbie Powell had been dating Pete for almost six months. As far as I could tell, they were happy together. "Oh, no, I am so sorry," I said, giving my brother a quick hug. I had to lean forward to do it, and I'm sure he got a glimpse of my cleavage. Big boobs, can't help it. My brother, along with a thousand other men in the world, saw my cleavage on a regular basis. Eyes were like magnets to my breasts. I had long been accustomed to it, though I only took them out for boyfriends.

"It's not the break-up that I have on my mind right now, Tabitha" he said, hammering his fist on the table. "I'm in a fucked-up predicament. Big problems!"

I walked back to the stove, turning the heat down. The boiling water in the pot began to settle. "What is it then?"

"That life drawing class I'm in. We get a different model every week. Two weeks ago, the professor tells us that one of the models had to drop out, and rather than scouring the campus with ads, she asked anyone in the class if they would do it."

"You're telling me you volunteered or something?"

"No, not me, Tabbi. The teacher was asking if any of the girls in class would be willing. We've only had one female model so far this year. Anyway, none of them would volunteer, but... well... you don't know this, but Debbie is kind of an exhibitionist... or something... anyway, she's always flashing at parties. It's how we met, actually."

"You're kidding me," I said. "And she was going to...?"

"I texted her right away during class. She agreed on the spot, so I told the teacher that I knew someone who would model. I wasn't going to tell them she's my girlfriend, but I told the class it was someone I trusted. The professor asked me, not once, but twice, if was I absolutely certain. Apparently, there have been incidents where volunteers have backed out, so she wanted to be absolutely sure she could trust me to secure the model."

"She?"

"The professor. A woman."

"Ah, okay... and... oh... oh, shit! Now that Debbie broke up with you, she won't do it. That's the problem?"

"Told me right to my face. Said I could fuck right off about it."

"Jesus, why did she break up with you? What happened?"

My brother let out a deep sigh and slapped himself on the forehead. "I fucked up. She read a really offensive text that I had sent to Chad."

"What? Really?"

"I totally admit it was wrong, and I begged forgiveness, but she wasn't having it."

"What did it say?" I asked.

"It was just me being stupid. I texted Chad, telling him that Debbie volunteered to be a life model. He texted back 'Naked?' and I followed with 'Yeah, she's slutty like that.'"

"Fuck, Pete, no wonder she's pissed!" I screamed. "Where's your tact? Much less appreciation?"

"I know, I know. I'm an idiot. Everything about that stupid text was just to get a cheap laugh, it wasn't serious at all. I don't think Debbie is a slut. She's my girlfriend, for fuck's sake."

"WAS your girlfriend."

"Yeah, I am so fucked. So fucked."

I pulled the macaroni off the burner and added the cheese powder. As I mixed, I saw Pete perk up.

"Hey, wait a minute," he said.

"What? Think you can win her back?"

"Not anytime soon, I can't. She's already blocked me on her phone and everything else."

"You better send her flowers or something."

"I will, but look... I am not sure how to come out and say this, but..."

Being siblings, maybe helped me to read his mind, or perhaps it was the context of the conversation, but I snapped my head to him. "No way, Pete! You cannot be asking me!"

"If I fail to bring a model - and I have less than a day to find someone - I am going to be in so much trouble. Please, I wouldn't be asking if..."

I reeled back. "If you hadn't insulted your girlfriend? Why would you think I would be anymore compelled to do it than Debbie?"

"Well, for one, you're a lot hotter than Debbie."

I almost dropped the macaroni I was mixing. "What?" I yelled. There was an avalanche of thoughts in my mind. One, Debbie was pretty fucking hot. Two, my brother compared me to her. Three, that was wrong on so many levels.

"Pete, sheesh, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm being pragmatic, Tabbi. You're fucking hot. If there is anyone on this planet who should be comfortable being naked in front of people, it's someone with a body like yours." I was shaking my head in disbelief as he continued. "Please, Tabbi, I'll do the chores for a month."

Now that would be for a change, considering I usually did most of his share, too. "Sorry, Pete, you and your friends may think I'm hot, but I'm not perfect."

"Please, Tabbi? What will it take? I swear I'll never ask anything of you again in my life!"

"You're really being serious, aren't you? You think I have the guts to do something like that? And gross, you're my brother!"

"No one in the class has to know you're my sister. Please, Tabbi?

I couldn't believe I was agreeing to this. I think it was because I had never seen my brother so desperate. "Chores for two months, starting tonight! You clean the dishes and do laundry. Vacuum tomorrow."

"Yes, you can make me a daily list for all I care. Thank you, thank you!"

I guess I hadn't thought things through, because Pete scampered off to start the laundry, while I finished plating the meals. He came back, ate fast and cleaned everything behind me.

"Settle down, brother," I said.

"No, I mean it. I'll meet my end of the arrangement. Just come with me to class tomorrow."

"Are you going to introduce me to the teacher and class?"

"Likely. I'll call you Tabitha and offer no last name. Sound okay? I'll tell them the truth. You're typically shy, but agreed to help us."

"I guess that's true."

"They'll respect the short introduction. Class is only ninety minutes, and then it's behind you forever."

"While you have to do the chores for two months."

"I said I would," he sighed. "I promise."

My brother and I didn't often lie to each other, and we never intentionally took advantage of one another. At least, not up to this point in our lives. I believed he would make good on his promise, and I realized I was really committing to this.

"It's just ninety minutes?" I asked.

"Ninety minutes, and we usually get a break somewhere in the middle."

"I suppose there are worse things in life than being seen naked by my brother..." I began to say.

"Yes?"

"But fine. One other condition then. You never breathe a word of this to anyone. I'm saving your ass here - and yeah, you have to do chores for two months - but this kind of favor demands discretion. I swear, if I ever hear about you joking with your friends or something about this, I will disown you."

"Okay, I swear," Pete insisted. "Whatever it takes. I'll sew my lips shut if I have to, but thank you. I mean it, thank you.

To be truthful, it was nice to be appreciated. It gave me a sense of pride to be helping my brother out of a jam. I probably would have felt more comfortable if I had agreed to go fully nude, and shake my tits and ass in some Spring-Break type setting, rather than posing in an intimate room of people, all just staring at me.

Still, I was doing this...

***

When we arrived at class, I was escorted behind a divider, allowing me to discretely change into a robe. I stepped out and the instructor, who I was surprised to discover was quite young and beautiful, came forward with my brother next to her.

"Hello, I am Professor Anne Hitchens. I'll allow Pete to introduce you."

Pete stood next to me, turning to the class and spoke loudly. "Hi everyone, I'd like to introduce you all to my sister, Tabitha. We're twins, and she has agreed to help out today."

'What the fuck?!' I was screaming in my head. Had Pete somehow slipped, or did he just intentionally humiliate me? He had said he wouldn't tell the class we were siblings. It felt very awkward knowing strangers thought I was "okay" with my brother seeing me naked. They didn't know I was here saving his ass. Context was important. There were audible gasps coming from a few people in the chairs surrounding me.

The professor spoke, "Thank you so much for coming in today, Miss Raleigh. That is your name, correct? Miss Raleigh?"

I nodded, blushing. Now they all knew my name. "You can call me Tabitha," I squeaked.

"Well, thank you so much, Tabitha. When I mentioned we were looking for a top-heavy model, Pete assured us that he knew someone who would volunteer. Now that the class knows you are his sister, I am sure they can appreciate the sacrifices some siblings are willing to make for each other."

There was a hearty laugh around the room. I suppose the teacher, by getting it all out in the air this way, did help to ease my tension. The class seemed truly appreciative I was there. Then it dawned on me. Pete said Debbie had agreed to do this, but Debbie was barely a b cup. The professor just said Pete had claimed his model was top heavy. Things weren't adding up, and I desperately wanted to pull my brother aside to have a word with him.

"Let's get started," said the professor, snapping her fingers. In her long overcoat, it was hard to make out her figure, but she was definitely thin, with sharp facial features and full lips. "Please remove your robe. Try placing your hands behind your hips, and arching your shoulders back."

I was shaking as I removed the one thing covering me, putting it to on a chair nearby. I stepped to the podium and stood into position as asked, leaving me to be seen fully naked by everyone. There were at least a dozen students scattered throughout the room, sitting in chairs, with their easels and canvasses near them.

My breasts are large, but my nipples are not symmetric. One stands proudly centered, yet the other is an inch or two lower, and off to the left. Standing up makes it more noticeable than in other positions. I felt very uncomfortable as I stood there, waiting for more instructions.

"You have a lovely body," said the professor. "Thank you so much for doing this."

I nodded and asked. "Are we starting now? Is this how you want me?"

I hoped it would be something different, maybe something that didn't expose me entirely on the first pose. The teacher came up and only made a few slight corrections, before leaving me there, presented fully to the class for their first sketch. It was clear she wanted everyone in the room to get a good angle of my nude form. My brother was closest, directly in front of me, perhaps only four or five feet away. He glared at my tits, and didn't notice me looking back at him.

I stood in this perched position for almost two minutes, when the professor finally moved me to a more modest position. She turned my torso to one side, with an arm against my chest. It was another two minutes in this pose, before Professor Hitchens barked out a new one, "Please, face center and raise your hands, while spreading your legs... oh, about three or four feet apart."

Considering I shaved this morning (I didn't want to go in looking unkempt), my clit would be in full view of my brother. I barely believed my actions, as I allowed myself to follow the teacher's instructions. She wasn't forcing me, yet somehow I felt obligated. After a couple minutes, she said, "Same pose, but drop one hand in front of the crotch, as if you're hiding your flower, caught naked by surprise."

Again, I found myself following along... and getting slightly damp. One man off to my left had a boner. I saw it clearly from my angle. Thankfully, I couldn't see my brother's crotch. It was hidden from view by the angle of his canvas.

She continued with her suggestions. "Put the other hand on your breast please... no, not covering it, lifting it from the bottom, squeeze it, holding it out, and away from your chest. Hold that pose for another two minutes, please."

I followed the instructions to the letter, settling into it before fully realizing how flagrantly vulgar it was. At certain angles, it would appear I was masturbating. The professor got up, and made her way next to me. "We haven't done many erotic poses with this class. Not over this term, anyway. Miss Raleigh, you would make a fine model for such a task today. Would you mind?" She grabbed by fingers and pressed them to my vagina. "Just hold those there, while angling your head back, eyes closed, as if in a moment of ecstasy."

Was I being used? Is this normal in a life model class? It seemed much more risque than I had seen before. Yet as I stood there, arched back, face up, eyes closed, with two fingers in my vagina, I felt myself becoming more comfortable, not less. I heard the scratching of pencil against paper as the students hurriedly sketched on their canvasses in the two-minute time frame. My breathing calmed as the class quietly continued on.

"Tabitha, same pose, but on your knees. Perhaps arch back a little more, if you can."

My right, middle two fingers were curled into my pussy. They remained there while I dropped down to the floor. Now on my knees, I spread my legs slightly further and leaned back. I used my left hand to push my left breast up. "How's this?" I asked.

"Hmm.. yes," said Anne. She walked towards me, circling around. She reached down and arched my right shoulder back another inch or more, before coming to my other side. There, she grabbed my left arm at the elbow and gently pushed it forward. "Hold the hand where it's at, just present this a bit more."

I followed along, this time opening my eyes as she assisted. While nearer to the floor, I finally got a clear view of my brother, specifically his crotch, rising hard in his pants. Seeing how high it tented the material made me realize that I had never, in all our years together, witnessed my brother sporting an erection. Believe me, I would have remembered it.

Instantly, involuntarily, juices poured out of my pussy, dripping down my inner thighs, and a shiver raced up my spine. I had to get my mind off that cock, stat. For whatever reason, while I had allowed myself to be posed in such scandalous ways, I was becoming more and more aroused.

"Okay, hold there for two minutes," said the teacher, walking away. I closed my eyes and once again, breathed in. It was like little intervals of meditation between poses, and helped to calm me.

'I'm really doing this,' I thought to myself. Never had I envisioned I would be willing to show off my body to a room of strangers. I think I would have felt more comfortable if my brother wasn't here. His presence kept invading my mind.

While I stayed frozen in pose, it felt like time slowed down. 'Do they like my body?' I would ask myself. 'Is this pose too much?' 'I wish I could see what they've drawn so far.' Thoughts scattered my mind as I somehow got accustomed to the overtly sexual poses.

Anne barked more instructions that I followed, "Okay, Tabitha, would you mind getting on all fours? Yes, that's right, but turn ninety degrees to the right. Okay, arch your back down, but tail up... no, not all the way down, we don't want your breasts touching the floor."

I dropped my head, looking at them hanging there. At this angle, my brother saw my left tit clearly, as I was bent forward on my knees, with my ass angled slightly up in the air. I don't think I had ever posed this sexy for a boyfriend, much less strangers, and with my brother in the center of it all. I think the taboo nature of it was adding to my problems, because I found myself getting wetter as I thought about it.

"Turn towards me," said the professor. She was standing just left of my brother. I was low to the floor, and if I drew my attention away from Anne, I was bound to see my brother's achingly hard cock, still tenting his pants. He was only a few feet away.

"Like this?" I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on hers.

"Yes, that's good, like you're looking up, pleading. Push your bottom out more."

It was effortless for me to follow her commands. As degrading as some might find these poses, I simply succumbed to her authority, trusting in her. I managed to shift my eyes to some of the other students, watching as they scribbled behind their canvasses. How exciting it was to pose in such a manner, and get away with it, to strangers. I believe it woke a kink in me I didn't know I had.

Finally, I glanced to Pete again. His cock was rising so high in his pants, it practically touched his kidney-shaped paint palette. Realizing my eyes were fixated on my brother's crotch, I snapped out of it, quickly looking to the teacher instead.

"Ah, you must have noticed the paint palette," she said.

'No, not what I was really noticing,' I thought to myself, but saying nothing aloud. I wondered if she also noticed my brother's predicament.

She continued. "After thirty minutes of sketches, we always move to paint. We'll need you to hold your poses for five minutes, from now on."

I nodded.

"Any suggestions for poses?" the professor asked the class.

At first, the students just looked back and forth at each other, murmuring, when one boy on the far end asked, "Are we allowed to use props?"

"I don't see why not, as long as they aren't too burdensome," said the teacher.

"How about that broom in the corner of the room over there? Have her stand with it between her feet, the handle rising, pressing against her crotch. She can wrap her breasts around the end of the handle, too. That would be erotic."

"Did you just come up with that on your own, just now?" asked a girl next to the student.

"Uh.. I guess... I just thought we should try props. Do you have any suggestions?"

"I like that one actually," she replied.

She should trade places with me, I thought. Posing with a phallic symbol isn't exactly my thing... I didn't think...

The broom was brought to me and I stood up, dropping the thistled-end to the floor, between my feet. I pressed my hips forward, while pulling the handle towards my breasts, squeezing it into them, surrounding the end of the broom with my flesh. I suppose it gave an imagery of a tit-job, and could be considered somewhat erotic, but still, a bit much, maybe? Regardless, I held the pose while the students began working, painting my nude figure.

I did my best not to look down to my brother as I stood there. I didn't want to risk seeing his erection again. For whatever reason, I feared my reaction more than his. I stayed in this pose, with the broom's end between my tits, while my hands held the stick near my waist. I pressed my crotch into it. Holding it there for so long, of course, induced a reaction. I felt dampness accruing where my crotch rubbed against the shaft of the broom. Finally, teacher called out, "How are you doing, Miss Raleigh? Would you like to take ten?"