Fire Drill

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Fire drill during a life drawing class.
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NakedDan
NakedDan
437 Followers

The numbness starts in my toes and creeps up the length of my foot. Somewhere in my upper thigh or lower buttock, the weight of my body is pressing on and constricting the major veins and arteries carrying blood to and from my foot. But I don't move my leg or any other body part. My job is to stay still. I glance up from the base of the easel that I have been staring at for what has to have been twenty minutes by now, letting my eyes move around the room. The twenty-one students, fifteen girls and six guys, are all busy drawing me with their sticks of charcoal. The ones that I see looking at me are looking at something besides my face, so I feel free to let my eyes wander, without moving my head. I look at my toes and try to wiggle them. The big toe moves slightly, but the smaller ones are motionless. Losing feeling is one thing; losing mobility is worse. Jenny had better call for a break soon, or I might have to ask for one. And I don't want to ask for one. I have a reputation as the art department's best model. I have never been late, and I take and hold interesting poses. At least, that's what all the teachers have told me.

Jenny is walking around the room, looking at the students' drawings and giving pointers to a few of them. She reaches the end of the semi-circle and approaches the model stand.

"How are you doing Dan?" Jenny asks me.

"I could use a break," I tell her.

"OK," she says. "Let's mark you though, because I think I want to keep this pose for the rest of the class. They're really getting some good drawings."

Great, I think, as Jenny grabs some masking tape and uses it to mark where my feet rest and the position of my butt on the chair.

"OK," she says and turns to the class. "Dan is going to take a short break, but I want you to keep working on these. I want you to think about composition, how the figure fits into his environment."

I slip off the chair, but I know that I can't put any weight on my right leg. I sit on the edge of the platform and stretch that leg out to my side, keeping it parallel to the platform. I know that if I stand up, the blood will rush into my foot causing a painful pin pricking sensation. I rub the muscles of my thigh as the blood gradually returns and start wiggling my toes as the students continue to draw. When I finally feel like I have full sensation in my foot, I stand and turn to get my robe but quickly realize that I had sat on it for the pose. There are now multiple pieces of tape on it as it rests on the chair. I look over to Jenny, but she is talking with a student about a sketchbook assignment. I look down at myself, nude, legs shaved, pubic hair trimmed, penis and scrotum hanging low in the warm room. The students have been studying my body for an hour already, and I don't need to leave the studio to go to the bathroom. I figure that I can just go without a robe.

I almost always wear the robe for each break, so this sensation is new to me. Still, I don't want to make any of the students uncomfortable, so I stay by the platform rather than walking around the room looking at the drawings like I usually do. I look at the clock and note the time, 11:56, and resolve that at 12:01, I am going to get back in the pose. Most of the other art models stretch their breaks out as long as they can before the instructor asks them to resume posing. I don't want to be most models; I want to be the best. I love this job too much, in spite of the tedious poses, sore muscles, and lack of circulation, and I want as many hours as I can get.

I've just about got my foot feeling back to normal when 12:01 arrives. Without waiting for Jenny to tell me, I climb up onto the platform and get back into position. When it feels like it did earlier, I say, "How's this?"

Jenny looks up from one of her student's drawings and looks surprised to see me back on the platform.

"Oh," she says. She looks at the drawing and back at me. "That looks right from here. Anybody else?"There is a smattering of "Good's," and Jenny nods and says, "OK. This is it then."

The students resume drawing, and I think about whatever comes to mind, the movie I watched the night before, the book I'm reading, and the story I'm writing now. My head is turned so that I can't see the clock. When my foot starts losing feeling again, I start counting, to both mark the time and to see how long I can go from there. I've done this enough times to know by heart that 300 seconds is five minutes. When I get to six hundred, I begin to wonder how much time had passed before I started counting. I do know that in the last ten minutes, I have lost all feeling in my foot.

Just before I get to seven hundred in my count, a bell rings throughout the building in three short bursts.

"Oh, what is this?" Jenny moans.

The students stop drawing and look at each other.

"I think it's the fire alarm," a girl says.

Jenny strides to the door and says, "Stay here while I go see if we have to leave."

I start to ask her if it's OK for me to take a break, but before I can speak, she slips out the door, closing it behind her. Some of the students have resumed drawing while others talk to each other. Jenny returns less than a minute later.

"We all have to go outside," she says, and I can detect the irritation in her voice. "So let's go."

The students all put their charcoal down and start heading toward the door. A couple of them stop at the sink in the studio to wash their hands; others just go as they are. I stand up out of my pose, doing my best not to disturb my robe as it sits on the chair. When I step down off the platform, I almost fall over. I can't feel my foot, nor can I put any weight on it. Thanks to gravity, the blood rushes back into it, which hurts. It feels like thousands of pins piercing the skin on the sole. I sit down on the edge of the platform and put my foot up, trying to slow the rush of blood down. But it's too late, so I sit and wait for the agony to pass.

Jenny and the students are all gone by the time I can stand again. I still can't put all of my weight on my foot, so I limp over to the door of the studio and stick my head out. The model's dressing room is around the corner at the end of the hall. I could make a mad dash down to it, get my clothes on, and get outside. I don't want to move my robe since that would ruin the pose. Just before I am about to leave, a woman carrying a walkie talkie rounds the corner, heading toward me.

"You need to get outside," she says when she sees my head sticking out of the door.

"I need to go and get my clothes from down there," I say.

"Nope. That part of the building has been cleared. You have to go that way to the stairwell."

"Can't I just stay here?" I ask. "I haven't got feeling all the way back in my foot yet."

"Nope. You have to go outside right now."

She says it forcefully, as if it's an order. I'm not going to mess up Jenny's pose. She still wanted the students to draw it for at least another hour. So there is only one thing left for me to do. I pull the door open and limp out into the hall. I catch the lady's shocked, open-mouthed expression before I turn away from her and head toward the stairwell, my genitals swinging freely.

"Um," I hear the woman say, but I keep walking.

I get to the stairwell and open the door. I don't see or hear anyone, so they must have all made it outside. It feels strange being here naked like I am. When I model, I try to be as pure as I can, no jewelry or anything. I even take off my wedding ring. So I am wearing absolutely nothing as I bound down the stairs. My foot is feeling better, so I pick up speed, my penis bouncing with each step. The motion causes it to expand just a bit. I expect the lady upstairs to come after me and stop me, but I don't hear anything behind me. She's probably used her radio to tell someone down below to expect a naked man.

The life drawing studios are on the third floor, but I make it all the way down to the bottom and emerge from the stairwell next to the architecture department office. The building's glass exit doors are to my left, and I can see crowds of students outside standing around talking. I hadn't expected so many. There has to be at least three hundred people out there.

This suddenly seems like a bad idea. The building is shared by three different departments, so not everyone outside are art students. I realize what kind of trouble I can get into if my going outside like this causes the art department any embarrassment. Still, I was following that woman's orders. I can see no one in the building, so perhaps she didn't call down for anyone to intercept me. I take a deep breath and push through the glass doors.

The warm breeze feels good on my bare skin as I walk toward the crowd. I see three girls' eyes widen when they see me. I don't recognize them from any of the classes I've modeled for, so they've never seen me nude like this before.

"Holy shit!" I hear someone say.

Girls keep nudging one another and pointing at me. I see two students from the life drawing class and I head toward them.

"What the hell?" one guy from the drawing class says.

I shrug and say, "I couldn't take the robe and mess up the pose, and they wouldn't let me go get my clothes. So I came down like this."

"Awesome," a girl from the class says.

The drawing students make a space for me to stand, and I turn and face the building like almost everyone else had been doing. But most people have turned and were now trying to look at me. Three girls push past the drawing students and stand next to me.

"Ummm, why are you naked?" one of them asks.

"I was modeling for a drawing class, and I they wouldn't let me go get my clothes."

"I didn't know they had nude models," the girl says. "I may have to take some art classes."

The other girls laugh, and I feel a hand caress my butt. Shocked, I turn and look at the girl who did it.

"Sorry," she says. "Accident."

She is a gorgeous blonde, and I suddenly don't mind that she touched me. "It's all right," I say.

Her eyes go down to my crotch and the sensation I have at the facial expression she makes feels almost like an orgasm. I think I am going to pee right there, but nothing comes out. I look down and see that I'm almost erect. The girl has taken my "It's all right" statement to mean that she has permission to touch my butt again. I want her to keep touching me, but I don't want everyone seeing me with an erection. I glance around, wondering how many people would notice if I did grow erect and see at least fifteen pairs of female eyes on my penis. My knees suddenly weaken.

Since I started modeling for the art classes, I have always been as professional as possible. But honestly, I got into it because I loved the thought of college girls looking at my naked body. Still, the academic nature of life drawing classes makes it easy to act professionally. But this is different. These girls aren't interested in art or in trying to capture my form. They just want to look at my penis, and I can't help but love every nanosecond of it.

The girl caressing my butt moves her hand around and brushes my now erect cock.

"You'd better not do that," I say.

The girl pushes her bottom lip out in a pout.

"Kristie, you're such a slut," one of her friends says.

"I can't help it," Kristie replies. "Look how big and hard he is."

I'm suddenly afraid of getting into legal trouble. It is one thing to have been told to exit the building naked, which is what I would claim happened if a police officer shows up, but it is another to be standing in the middle of a group of girls with a hard on. I take a step forward to get away from the group, my erect penis stiff and bouncing in front of me. I walk around the group, trying to get away from Kristie, but everyone I see, male and female, looks at me with wide eyed astonishment.

"Impressive," one guy says. He holds up his hand to me, and, without thinking, I high five him. "If I was hung like that, I would go naked too," he says.

"Dan!" Jenny says when she sees me. "Oh my God, what the hell!?"

I shake my head to her. "I couldn't grab my robe without messing up the pose, and the lady up there wouldn't let me go get my clothes," I tell her.

"Why didn't you just stay in the room?" Jenny asks with alarm in her voice, and I realize that, as the model for her class, she could get in almost as much trouble as I could.

"She practically ordered me to go outside. So I did," I say with a shrug.

"Oh my God," Jenny says, looking at my erection.

"Sorry about that," I say. "Some girls were feeling frisky."

"I'll bet."

Another three bells sound in the building, and the crowd starts to move forward toward the building.

"That's the all clear," Jenny says, taking my hand. "Let's get you back upstairs."

She breaks into a jog, trying to get inside ahead of the crowd. The only problem I have keeping up with her is the bouncing of my erection. I hear laughter from everyone around me, and I see several people with cell phones pointed right at me, taking pictures or videos. Looking down at myself and how obscene my bouncing erection seems, I pray that they are only taking still photos. We get into the stairwell ahead of everyone else and start heading up.

"The pose wasn't that important," Jenny says.

"I know, but you seemed so excited about the drawings they were doing."

"I know."

We get to the third floor, out of breath. Jenny seems to suddenly realize that she's still holding my hand and drops it like a hot potato. I feel safe once we get back to the drawing studio, and my erection has subsided just a bit, although I am still hanging low. Jenny looks at it and shakes her head.

"It serves them right for having a fire drill during my class," she says, laughing.

We both feel better about things now that we are back in the drawing studio. I wait for the students to come filing in before resuming the pose. Once I'm back into it, I can't help but think about what might happen when the art department dean hears about what happened. Then I decide that I'll deal with the consequences when they come.

NakedDan
NakedDan
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NaturallyGroovyNaturallyGroovyover 3 years ago
Needs a follow-up...

Like Dan and his girl posing together, since everybody seeing him has doubled/tripled enrollment in Jenny's class!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago

Cute! Really cute!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
art model

I worked as an artist figure model for 20 years, and I can tell you that this is exactly accurate to the way things work. The person who wrote this story has obviously written from some level of personal experience.

AnonymousAnonymousover 8 years ago
Married

I was looking for a continuation of https://www.literotica.com/s/class-demonstration-ch-07 so it came as a surprise that the make character is married.

rso13rso13almost 9 years ago
Looking forward to the next instalment

Very nicely set up. Have added you to my favourites so that I can see where this one goes. I have already read some of your other work and will re-read them while waiting for this one to develop.

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