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2010-06-08
I'm 28 years old andI moved out west about two years ago, where I'm just starting to enjoy earning my living as an artist. As I have found, being an artist is always popular with people who admire your skills and talent. Several months ago a casual admirer turned up at my studio, which is in my house. I recognized him. He lived close by and often walked past my studio. His name was Juan. He was nineteen, although he looked much younger. To me, he looked about sixteen, but he had his own apartment down the street, and he worked in a liquor store. He stopped by one day, curious about art and what I did. He came into the studio and looked around and saw what I did, and was quite impressed. We talked for a little bit. He seemed nice enough, sort of quiet and a little shy, but he seemed sincere and expressed an interest in art. That was about it, just another casual visitor.
A few days after that I saw him walking by again, waved at him, and he came in to see what I was doing. Although still shy, this time he seemed more relaxed. He asked some more questions about art and what I did.
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Grinning a little self-consciously he asked if I painted nudes. A frequent question that always seems to fascinate people, I can tell you. I told him no, that I painted landscapes, and never really did people as such. He looked somewhat disappointed, which was natural enough, with my suspecting that maybe he was hoping at some point to get to see some lovely female posing in the buff. Not that I could blame him. Being sort of practical-minded about it, though, he asked if it was too expensive and difficult to get models. Being honest, I told him that getting a model was no problem (knowing myself that there are plenty of people willing to pose even for free, just to Say that they've been an artist model), but that I preferred to paint landscapes and such. Juan said that was too bad, because he thought that I would be good at doing that. I made the remark that if he was interested, that maybe he should go down to the local college, where they have life classes and models. He misunderstood, though, and thought that I meant that he should go down and model himself.
When I explained that I meant that maybe he should try taking up drawing and painting, he looked embarrassed over the mix up. Anyway, that was that.
The next week he happened to stop by again. We talked while I was working, and I asked him if he had given any thought to taking some art classes. He said that he was thinking about it, and we sort of laughed about the misunderstanding, and his being a model.
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A little self-consciously he admitted that he would be too shy to ever do that, to sit in front of an entire class like that in the buff. Although he said that it would be different, maybe, if he was posing for me, with no one else around. I could see what he meant, but said that I wasn't thinking of doing any work in that line at the moment. Juan said that he thought that was too bad, because he was sure that I would be good at doing that. Well, I have to admit that sort of stirred my creative interest and got me thinking that maybe I should give it a try, just to see what I could turn out. It might be something nice to try for a change and keep me fresh. Also, thinking about Juan as a model did have a certain appeal. His youthful looks did lend themselves to modeling. He was on the shorter side of average, slender, and his features were certainly pleasant enough. The fact that he usually came over wearing a t-shirt, cut-offs, and flip-flops told me that his physique was appropriate. I remarked that maybe I would give that a try, and inquired if he would be willing to pose sometime. He looked self-conscious, but said that maybe he would try, so long as nobody saw him or anything. I assured him that would be no problem, and before I think either of us knew it, we had agreed that he could come over tomorrow and we would both give it a try.
The next day came and Juan showed up. I fixed some curtains over the studio windows for privacy and we got down to it.
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Juan nervously started to undress, kicking off his flip-flops, telling me that he didn't mind being naked, that he sort of liked it, only he was afraid that he might get an erection.
That was a natural concern, and I told him not to worry about it, that it wouldn't bother me, and that there was no one to see him. My assurances made him feel better, and he slipped off his shirt and shorts, revealing his lean body. I had to admit that I liked how he looked. I was admiring of his deep copper skin coloring that was from head to toe. His body was trim and smooth and flowed without angles, and his buttocks were firm and tight. He had a compact dark bush of pubic hair, and his dangling penis was not especially large nor overly distracting from his overall form.
He grinned somewhat modestly and I grinned back, letting him know that I was pleased by what I saw, and I had him take a seat on a stool, instructing him to just sit there. He climbed on the stool and, even just sitting there, he had this just natural provocative look about him. Innocent, but sweet, with his hands resting on the back edge of the stool, his slender legs trailing downwards, and bare toes bending on the wooden rung. His penis was not especially obvious, but peeking out from between his lean thighs beneath the dark hair, small, with an acorn-like tip. I ignored the more provocative aspects and set to work sketching an outline onto the canvas as Juan held his relaxed pose. I told him he was doing fine and I was happy with what I was turning out, concentrating on that . .
