Task 5 – Tasteful Modeling

Task 5 – Tasteful Modeling

I have to say this task kind of came out of nowhere. From all the tasks I thought up on my list and ones that were even suggested by my fans, I thought of this one, but never thought I would actually do it. Modeling nude for a class at my actual university, and without a mask either. This was a position that’s always posted on some sketchy corkboard, with a written or half assed, but to be honest, I needed the money.

I was worried that I was going to chicken out again, this wasn’t a random strip club miles away. This was at my school where someone may have recognized me, seen me completely naked and would have some kind of proof of it, whether they were good artists or not. I just hoped no one was allowed to take pictures with their phones. It’s not that I cared if it went back to my parents anymore, but maybe having something in the future that would come out and ruin some great chance at a career I may want.

Anyways, I decided this time around, I would have an incentive to go through it with, other than just the money. No masturbating for a week before the modeling gig, I figured I’d be horny enough and crazy enough to do anything at that point just to find some release. My plan worked a little too well. For someone that masturbates at least twice, daily, going a week was like denying me water and on day 4, it was like I was suffocating. I was not a pleasant person to be around, that’s for sure.

I wanted nothing more to scratch the itch that was growing between my legs. Every day just got me more and more sensitive to the point where my nipples hurt with my usual rough skater shirts. I had to go to Victoria secret to get a silk undershirt, which was teasingly torturous but at least it wasn’t painfully so and still with my baggie cargo shorts, forgone panties as usual. I just prayed that every day as my juices leaked down my legs as I walked around school, people just thought I was sweating like everyone else.

Sitting in class, every touch against my bare skin just added to my desire to cum, the subtle breezes that would sneak they’re way up the holes of my shorts just reminded me of the orgasms I had been denying myself. Even worse was the bitter looks I had been giving couples as I walked around campus. I’m not against pda, what I was against was the idea that they were probably going to be going back to their dorms or apartments and fucking while I was starving for dick. Yeah, at this point, I needed red hot, all natural, meat or after a certain incident I’ll write about later, would have settled for a hungry mouth just as much, just so I could stop my brain from thinking about nothing but all the orgasms I owed myself.

On day 6 when I thought I would be worried about going through with what I was about to do. I was more staring at every crotch, chest and mouth while thinking of the possibilities and sometime biting my lip like a starving dog.

I must have looked insatiable as one of the few…semi friends I had in school must have noticed, “girl, you need dick, plastic, or real, you need to get filled.”

She wasn’t wrong, but comments like that still made me blush and I knew my reward would be bliss after the task I had to accomplish. There were times I almost slipped, woke up with my hand creeping down my pjs, a finger finding my clit and waking up to stop myself before I couldn’t. It was like trying to stop yourself from yawning, mid yawn, it’s just so natural and then you have to pull it back in like it’s not accepted by society.

During class my pen would find its way circling around the top of my leg through my shorts and wanting to go between my legs. I was so needy that I didn’t care that people were around, that someone may catch me, the guy three seats over would take a pic with his phone or the teacher may catch me under the table in the lecture hall. I just really, wanted, to fucking cum, was that too much to ask for?

Day 7 was the hardest, even though I was turned on beyond belief, a crackhead of lust that didn’t detox right. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered if it was really worth all of this, that not masturbating for a week alone was task enough, I could surely call that a task and get away with it. I knew I couldn’t do that though; I was too far invested to stop now and with butterflies stirring in my stomach, the next morning was going to be it. I wasn’t going to back out, I needed the money and couldn’t fail again, I had to do this. It was the closest thing to blackmail for me and yet I was the blackmailer.

I honestly didn’t know what to wear, part of me thought wearing the wrong thing would let everyone in the school know I was heading to be a nude model. You ever feel like, your brain is a giant billboard and everyone knows exactly what you’re feeling, that’s how I felt walking to the art building. I wore my usual t-shirt, shorts and sandals, but I felt completely naked to everyone I walked past. Their eyes felt like they burned across my skin and if it was that bad just walking around clothed, I worried how it would have felt actually being naked. My arousal kept butting its way in, the thought of someone in the class I knew both scared and excited me at the same time. I even wondered if they liked what they saw, maybe I would get my first sexual friend out of it. That’s when I hit the door to the art studio, literally, with my forehead.