From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:23:51 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: NEW STORY by Maggy <POSER> romance, f/m, exhibitionism
From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J)
Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:23:51 GMT

Disclaimer
This is a fantasy written down. Any similarity between persons living and
dead are purely your imagination. Warning, contains graphic decriptions of
consentual sex between adults. If you are under legal age or are
uncomfortable with explicit sexual material, don't read this. 

Poser, prt1
	People always tell me they can't believe I have trouble meeting
guys. I'm 32, but I still have a terrific figure thanks to my bicycle and
the local gym. Being blonde, blue eyed and easy to look at, and having a
fun-loving personality, they just can't believe I haven't met a guy.  And
it's true, I meet men every day, sometimes flirt with them. Once in a
great while chemistry and biology take over, and I start dating someone
until the novelty of having sex again wears off and I start noticing how
incompatible we really are.
	So on the advice of a friend I started taking classes at the local
college. With a full time job I didn't want anything like a heavy
curriculum, I was just taking some art classes in the evenings, and
sometimes taking advantage of the school's gym and pool. I must've made
very bad choice I could in choosing classes though. The beginning ceramics
class was the last place I was going to meet anybody. The only man in the
whole class was obviously gay. Beginning watercolors was full of people
young enough to be my children. One or two looked gorgeous and probably
would have been willing, but I wasn't looking for that, it was too easy to
find a one-neither my own age.
	But one evening as I was waiting for a friend's class to let out
so we could go to the gym, I started perusing the bulletin board in the
hallway. It was mostly artsy stuff that I didn't care about, notices of
seminars on various artists or whatever, a few requests to share rides
here or there, three-by-fives listing things for sale at one dorm or
another. One notice fluttering among the cards caught my eye. 
	BE A MODEL! EARN EXTRA MONEY!
MATURE WOMEN 18-35 WANTED TO SIT AS FIGURE MODELS
FOR PROFESSOR ROBERTS CLASSES. EARN TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS PER SITTING.
INTERVIEW WITH PROFESSOR ROBERTS ANYTIME BETWEEN CLASSES

	Well twenty-five bucks was nothing, but I had seen Professor
Roberts. He came into my ceramics class one evening to confer with the
instructor. He was tall, lean and had a certain classical charm. Perhaps
it was the neatly trimmed beard or the sadness deep in his brown eyes. I
don't know, but I felt a certain attraction to him as soon as I saw him.
Of course at the time I felt that he was unapproachable. He wasn't even
one of my instructors. The fact that he was my age only made the situation
more frustrating.
	I wasn't thinking about much of anything right then except the
nervous tingling in my tummy. His office was close by and my friend's
class was dragging on longer than expected, so I sidled over to the
frosted glass door and tapped.
	A muffled "come in" was immediate. I was a little surprised that I
had caught him so easily. I wasn't exactly dressed for anything but
slopping glazed onto a ginger pot, but I couldn't back out now. Oh I
suppose I could have walked away like a student prankster, but that didn't
come to me at the time. Like I said, I was full of hormone feelings and
fantasies of seducing the handsome teacher.
	I slipped into the tiny office. I think it must have once been a
broom closet transformed into a tiny workspace. There was room for a desk
and a couple of chairs, a single tall filing cabinet and a wall of shelves
full of supplies.
	He smiled up from a stack of mail introduced himself and asked
what he could do for me. I sat down on one of the little wooden chairs. It
was tiny and made me sit oddly upright. "Well I Margaret, and I saw your
note on the bulletin board. I think I'd like to be a model for you."
"Do you have any previous experience?"
	"No, but I fit all the other criteria. Mature, 32, female."
"Oh that's fine, I just wanted to make sure that you understood exactly
what would be involvednews.groups.reviews                                6
    6aid anything about that! But then, what better way to seduce him
casually? "Actually no, I went to a nude beach once or twice, but that's
about it."
He didn't write down anything, but fired the next question at me, "Married
or single?"
"Divorced, no boyfriend or anything." I was trying already, but he took
that his own way.
	"Good, I hate it when jealous mates cause problems for the models
or the class. It's happened."
"What other classes are you taking right now?" I told him about my two
classes and we chatted about them and how I thought I was doing for a few
minutes. Being a department head, he could of course pull rank and see
anything I had done personally. I wondered if he would bother. He leaned
back silent for a moment, and scratched absently at his chin. When he lean
foreword again I knew he had decided.
	"You know, we really pay the seventy five dollars a week for the
benefit of the younger students...but finding a mature person would be
such a novelty. I don't see how it could possibly effect your other
classes...."
"I don't need the money," I blurted out. I wasn't getting much out of my
ex, the least the law would allow in fact. No children made things easier
in that at least. But my job was more than adequate to cover my lifestyle.
	"All right, we'll give you a try." Gee, thanks. Of course, my
glaze spattered sweats didn't do a lot to show me off. He handed me a
little typed list of instructions, what to wear and to bring. "Of course,
the school requires at least a token fee be paid our models, I'm not
entirely sure if it's possible for you to waive the sitting fee. I'll
check if you really want me to, but you might as well get something out of
it. It's not nearly as glamorous as it sounds."
continued...
Margaret J@aol.com

From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:26:53 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: New Story by Maggy <POSER> M/F romance exhibitionism
From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J)
Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:26:53 GMT

Disclaimer- Don't read this if you are under legal age or don't like
graphic descriptions of sexual activity.



POSER by Maggy part 2

	I've been nude in front of people before, like I said, I've been
to a nude beach and I've had bikinis come off at the pool or skinny dipped
when I was younger. Locker rooms don't bother me at all. Every time I get
on my bike I wear revealing clothes, lycra and spandex, and neither of
those materials leave anything to the imagination, particularly if you get
caught in a sudden downpour. 
	As I rode my bike home, I found myself getting turned on, by the
saddle and the idea of showing myself off to MY professor. And twenty-odd
others in the class. Regardless of what you've heard about "bicycle smile"
they just don't hit the right spots to do more than tease. I was just glad
it was late enough when I got home that I didn't run in to anybody,
because my bike pants had an embarrassingly large dark wet stain between
my legs and I couldn't get inside fast enough to finish the job my bike
saddle had started.

	My first sitting was the very next day, and I was as nervous as a
cat and excited as a child at Christmas. I wanted to get the professor off
by ourselves and show him how mature I was. I dressed for the ride to the
school in a pair of bike pants and jog bra, threw  my robe and slippers
into a pack and headed off.
	I got there early, and got a chance to look around before the
students got there, as well a chance to visually tease and titillate my
prey. I know he was taking every opportunity to look at my body like when
he helped me up the stairs to the posing "stage". This was just a wooden
box maybe four feet square and about that high, surrounded by lights hung
on a wooden frame. It looked very home-made, but it was sturdy. He handed
me up a little cushion to put on the stool I was to pose on, and I could
feel his eyes moving up my body as he did.
	The students began to arrive, many of them checking out the tall
woman in the black bike pants who was to be their model. "Where should I
get ready?"
It seemed silly to be modest, since I w as about to bare all in front of
everybody. he ushered me into his little office, locked the outer door and
stood outside the inner one, like a guard to insure my privacy. What a
laugh!
	I put on my robe though, and again went to the little stage. I
slipped it off and handed it to him as I mounted the little platform, just
to be sure he got a good close view. A couple of the students cleared
their throats nervously. He had warned me to move around a good bit, find
a comfortable pose, and hold it. I was going to be holding it a long time,
and I had to get back into the pose after breaks.
	I had never thought about having to look sexy while being naked,
or how best to sit on a barstool nude. I realized that my knees were not
exactly in the most modest position, and that every student within ten
feet had an intimate view. But I eventually settled on a "tasteful" pose,
very upright, knees together. I couldn't figure out what to do with my
hands, so I ended up with them on my hips. In retrospect it wasn't the
easiest pose to hold, and it must have seemed I was thrusting my breasts
out at the class. If only they all knew how badly I had to go to the
bathroom by the first break they wouldn't have worried about my breasts. I
grabbed my robe and practically ran to the bathrooms.
	It was kind of an odd feeling to walk around at school, nude but
for a bathrobe. I had done so in college, but only in the dorms, never in
a public hall. The halls were deserted at the time, or someone outside the
art class might have seen me as I dashed, robe not even nearly secured,
into the bathroom.
	It was pleasantly boring actually, to sit still and quiet and let
my mind wander were ever it would. Usually it wondered into idyllic
interludes involving a certain bearded artist and his model. I'm vaguely
aware of the fact that at times my nipples must have become puckered into
tight points as I fantasized, and when I got up for the last break of the
evening's sitting I noticed a damp spot in the middle of the cushion. No
one commented on this though, not even a snicker.
	My first ever nude sitting was over, and I was anxious to see what
the students had done with me. I didn't get the chance though, as they all
flipped covers over their boards and stacked them up in a wooden rack.
Even the one my "boss" was doing was gone when I came out of his office. 
	"Can I see some of them?" I asked.
"When they're done...artists are...sort of superstitious about things like
that. Hey you must be starving! Can I buy you dinner? Nothing fancy, just
a little place around the corner."
I was hungry, and I was glad that no one had even snickered at my rumbling
tummy. "Sure, sounds great. I didn't exactly bring evening wear though."
	"Nothing new here. You'll see clothes a lot more revealing than
that on a Friday night.."
	It felt good to be walking beside a handsome man again, and he was
right. Even on a Tuesday, There were some outrageous people in place. It
was dark, mostly lit by neon beer signs and T.V.s, but cozy. The booths
were huge, enclosing dark wood, and each table was lit by a single candle.
I suppose he had no choice but to sit on the other side, given his
position with the school. It wasn't likely that anyone would mistake me
for a young co-ed, but I was a student...
	Over pizza and a pitcher we talked about our lives and got to know
each other.
"Just call me Bob," he said. "My parent's idea of a little joke."  It
might have been just my hyper-active hormones, but I think I knew right
then that he was more than interested. I would lay my hand on top of his,
softly brushing it, trying to be casual. I wanted to slip my shoes off and
become more demonstrative of my desires, but my damn laces only knotted
when I tried to reach down and untie them. It didn't matter anyway, he
pleaded an early morning and walked me back to my bike, all alone triple
locked to the wrack outside the building. He offered me a lift home, and I
was tempted, but I assured him that I could get home safely. I hoped he
was watching my ass as I pumped smoothly away.
	When I got home I took a long hot bubble bath. I relaxed in the
steaming mass and had the most delicious fantasy of making love to Bob in
this very tub. I slipped my fingers between my legs and gently explored
the opening of my pussy, teasing my clit. My nipples ached to be licked,
but all I could do was stroke them gently with soapy fingertips as I
brought myself to orgasm after orgasm, until the water started to get
cool.
Margaret J@aol.com

From magaretj@aol.com Fri Feb 21 23:29:30 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: NEW STORY by Maggy <POSER> M/F/prt 3
From: magaretj@aol.com (Magaret J)
Date: 22 Feb 1997 04:29:30 GMT

Disclaimer-Do not read if you are under legal age or are uncomfortable
with explicit sexual descriptions


<POSER> by Maggy prt 3
	At work people asked if I had a new boyfriend (my response is
always the same...maybe). I must've been mooning around like a teenage
girl. Without realizing it I had dressed a lot more provocatively. Instead
of my usual professionally proper blouses, I had worn a lacey silk blouse
that didn't quite hide my bra unless I kept my jacket buttoned. If I had
ridden my bike to work, this probably wouldn't have happened, but I had
been lazy and driven, so I didn't have to concede to changing in the
bathroom at work.
	At my watercolor class that evening I couldn't concentrate on my
silly little barn. I kept imagining it as a place to roll in the hay with
Bob. I knew he wasn't going to show up tonight, he had had day classes.
After my workout in the gym, as I stood enjoying unlimited hot water and
yet another sexy daydream, two young women came in and went to the far end
of the showers. Out of the corner of my eye I watched them as they quickly
showered, and then slipped off into a steamy corner together. I casually
watched them as I luxuriated in the steamy heat, sharing their tender
moments in each other's arms. I left them to their steamy hideaway, and
raced home to my own.
	I was able to control myself a little better the next day, partly
because I knew I had made some embarrassing mistakes yesterday, and partly
because I had willed myself to behave. At five 'o one I was a block down
the street from work and picking up speed.
This time I wanted to be prepared, so I added some sexy undies, a pair of
jeans and a blouse to the kit. And a toothbrush. 
	I wore a bright pink body suit, and instead of looking less
seductive, it made me feel moreso today. I saw my reflection in a
storefront as I flashed past and it looked as though I was nude from a
distance. No wonder there seemed to be so many more horns honking today!
All I seemed to have on was a helmet and shoes! Talk about Lady Godiva!
	This time as I undressed in Bob's office, I noticed that he had
tacked up some sketches. None of them had faces, but all had vaguely
female features. None on a stool though, and that made me wonder if maybe
I was wasting my time.
	It was the same pose again, but it was a shorter session. I snuck
a look at Bob's board as I went out to the fountain, and saw the same
vague female shape sketched in charcoal. Seated on a stool, but not quite
in the pose I was in. He had reposed me into a more defiant pose still.
Almost aggressive.
	That night I put on my street clothes instead of my bike clothes,
and invited him to dinner. If I know anything about college men, student
or faculty, it's that they seldom turn down a free meal. After checking
that my bike was secured to the rack (it's such an old beat up thing you
wouldn't think anyone would steal it, but people have tried) we rode in
his car to a dollar sushi bar near my place. I was hoping that a dose of
sea protein would fire him up and he'd suggest a trip to my place or his.
It may be my imagination but sushi is a turn on for me. It's like power
food, perfect for the body. Also there is something romantic and symbolic
in sharing one or two of those big dark beers.
	But he dropped me off at school with only a quick peck on the
cheek and a good night. DAMN! It isn't impossible to ride in jeans by any
means, but they were tight jeans and the pressure the seam brought against
my clit and lips was making me crazy. It seemed like I never went to sleep
or took a bath anymore without masturbating like a fifteen year old boy.
	The following day was Ceramics, but it was a very short class
because we just had to see the kiln loaded with our projects to be fired.
This process took about three days, but we would be starting new projects.
We had been warned that our first project might be destroyed, since things
sometimes burst in the heat, and this would give everyone a chance to get
a g
Margaret J@aol.com

