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The Gigolo

“I guess he’s hung like a horse.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Professor Bell used him last quarter too.”

“That’s all I need right now.”

“What’s that?”

“Looking at an over-endowed naked stud for ninety minutes.”

“I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I guess.”


Mia and Anne completed their walk across Red Square and headed up the stairs to the art building. Mia had outwardly dismissed Anne’s very personal report on the model they were about to draw, but inwardly it jump￾started the engine. She discreetly dried her moist palms on her jeans and felt her heart rate quicken. Okay, then, ninety minutes drawing a well-endowed man.


They walked into the classroom with theatre seating on four levels. Desks were oversized with adjustable tops, specially designed for drawing. In front was a stage and circular platform for the model. Professor Bell had preset the room. The bad news was that the room was full and the only available desks were in the front row, the last place Mia wanted to sit. She groaned and looked at Anne who shrugged her shoulders and led the way to the front. They settled into two adjacent desks. Mia groaned again. The model would be ten feet in front of her. She’d be looking right up his oversized appendage. Served her right. She should have thought of this and arrived earlier. She sighed. Nothing to do now. Her mistake.


It was her senior year at the University of Washington. With a major in design, she’d completed her course requirements and was taking electives spring quarter. Chinese 101, Sociology of Gender 350, Art 390 Intermediate Drawing. As part of her design major, she’d taken a lot of art. She had natural talent and enjoyed drawing, so why not? But she’d never drawn a nude male. Her heart was still elevated, her senses alive.


She felt the sexual tension in the room. She was pretty sure the word had spread about the pending eye candy. In a class of fifty, eighty percent were co-eds. So, the air was crackling with anticipation. Professor Bell was not in the room yet, nor was the model. The assignment had been made clear the prior week. Students would get ninety minutes to do a pencil drawing of the model. They were allowed to have a 18 x 12 design notebook, two No. 2 pencils, a manual sharpener, and a plastic eraser. A clock would post the time. Professor Bell would announce the start and, at exactly ninety minutes, pencils would go down while the drawings were collected by a teacher’s assistant. The assignment was an observational drawing and would be graded as one of three midterms.


Mia wasn’t too concerned about the grade. So far, she’d gotten an A on every assignment and was pretty much assured of an A in the class. But drawing a naked man would require an element of discipline. She didn’t like her position in the room and didn’t like being rushed. Never mind. She’d practiced observational drawings at her apartment under a time constraint. She could do this.


The room fell quiet when the door opened and Professor Bell entered followed by a tall stunning male model in a full length bathrobe. The murmurs bubbled through the room. Mia couldn’t take her eyes off the guy. Oh my God. What an amazing specimen. She felt it simultaneously in her gut and groin. Shockingly sexy thick black wavy hair, dark skin, facial bones of a GQ model, high bold cheekbones, lean narrow face, thick bushy eyebrows, straight perfect nose, strong chin. Almost too perfect. She was mesmerized.


Professor Bell stopped at the platform. As she explained the test requirements, Mia’s eyes never left the model, drinking in the incredibly perfect features of his face and anticipating the dropping of the robe. Silence had fallen on the room. She suspected every student was experiencing the same fascination. Then, Professor Bell stopped speaking and signaled the model who untied the robe and slipped it off his shoulders as the gasps, giggles, and murmurs swept through the room. He stepped on the platform and let Professor Bell position him for the assignment. After about thirty seconds, she stepped away and he held the comfortable pose.


Mia was temporarily paralyzed. His muscular frame was as perfect as his face. Not an ounce of fat, beautiful long lean muscles, thick shoulders and chest, marbled six-pack muscle across the torso. And below. Oh my God. She’d never seen such a long thick sexy package. He’d done some modest grooming so the presentation was perfect. And it was pointing right at her, just a few feet away. Oh my God. She put her pencil down and studied the project. The model was looking into space.


The room was quiet as the students studied the assignment. They’d been taught to digest the subject before beginning. Mia heard pencils scratching a full minute before she engaged. Slowly, she picked up her pencil. She divided the project into six phases, allocating fifteen minutes per phase. She needed to get started. Her plan was face, hair, upper torso, lower torso, legs, and feet. She made light pencil marks on the side of the paper indicating proportions. Couldn’t end up with no room for the feet, or having to make the legs disproportionately short. She would erase the markings later.


Focused on the face, she started in the middle, a light sketching of the nose, then working out, up, and down to complete the facial outline. Then, back for detail. He stood still as she sketched, and she watched her time carefully. He was so handsome it was almost numbing. How could a human creature have such perfect features? No wonder he was selected and that Professor Bell brought him back.


At minute sixteen, she turned to the hair. She’d allocated a full fifteen minutes for the hair because it was so spectacular. Big, bold, wavy, and black, it needed to be as dramatic on paper as it was in person. She didn’t sharpen her pencil after doing the face, wanting the dull thick lead to shade the hair dark and wild. The hair in place, she added highlights to the face, thickening the eyebrows, darkening the beard.


She lightly sketched the upper torso, ensuring she had the proportions before filling in detail, square muscular shoulders, big square upper chestplate, long arms slightly bent. She was feeling the time urgency. She wanted to do more with the hands, thinking of Michelangelo’s David, but time wouldn’t allow. She quickened her pace. She’d come back for detail if time allowed, but she had to move on.


Her heart quickened as she turned to the lower torso and upper legs. She had fifteen minutes to capture the most beautiful package she’d ever seen. Her body was not cooperating, erotic pulses affecting her hands and concentration. After several deep breaths, she focused as intensely as she could to stroke the long beautiful curvature of his member, sketching in detail and boldly capturing the thick black hair.


As she was drawing the oversized knob, she looked up to discover he was looking right at her. A lightning bolt hit her in the gut. He was studying her face as she was drawing his most personal part. Oh my God. She felt the blood rushing up her neck, her face burning. When she returned her eyes to the package, the knob was bigger and hanging lower. She heard some titters. She glanced sideways, and Anne was giggling and looking at her. Mia’s face was on fire. She looked back up to see his gaze had returned to outer space. Had she caused that? Now she was flustered and time was running out.


She refocused and did broad strokes to ensure he had legs and feet. She’d fill in as best she could. Fully focused on her project, she quickly sketched the final phases. She only had five minutes to go. She went back to the top and added detail in each phase, deciding the hands would remain outlined. When the bell sounded, she put her pencil down, took a deep breath, and looked up at the model. He had stepped down and was slipping the bathrobe on but was again looking at her. Not around her, but right at her. Oh my God. Her face completely flushed, she heard Anne giggling and looked over. When she looked back at the model, Professor Bell was escorting him out of the room.


Mia sat in her chair, spent. The teacher’s assistant reminded her to put her name on the bottom and collected her drawing. She hadn’t expected such an intense experience and she certainly hadn’t expected personal attention from the model. Professor Bell returned to give the next homework assignment and excuse the class. Rather than instantly rising, most students fell into animated discussion.

“I had to adjust my drawing after he started checking you out. It grew about three inches.”

Anne was exaggerating, but she wasn’t the only one who noticed the difference. Another girl stopped by and patted Mia on the back. “Nice job,” she giggled. “You straightened him out nicely.” Oh my God, she was a celebrity.


To Anne, she asked softly, “How long was he looking at me?”

“When Professor Bell stepped out of the room, he started scanning but stopped when he found you. He was staring at you the entire time you were sketching his package. Didn’t you see it growing?”

“I didn’t notice till I was almost done. How embarrassing.”

“Then he looked back up when she returned. I’d take my time getting out of here in case he just happens to be waiting outside.”

“Yeah, in my dreams. What’d you think?”

“Most perfect man I’ve ever seen. I mean, really, unbelievable.”

“Probably dumb as a stump. Isn’t that how it works?”

“No clue. He sure noticed you. That shows some level of intelligence.”

“Yeah, right.”

A couple other girls came over to kid her, confirming that, for some reason, he had selected her from the crowd. Subconsciously, she did linger, gathering supplies, talking with friends, before making her way out the door. Anne had left right after, so Mia walked out alone, taking her time. She didn’t see him as she made her way down the stairs. She paused at the bottom as if deciding where to go, then headed toward her car.


Her mind was racing. That had been more intense than she’d expected. She knew there’d be a nude model, and the idea had been titillating through the week. But she hadn’t expected a dreamy stud and certainly had not anticipated the personal attention. She turned and headed down a walkway to her parking lot, but heard quick steps behind. Being in a secluded forest area, she took a cautionary look to make sure it was safe, and her mind exploded. He was walking quickly toward her with a big smile. Oh my God. She wasn’t sure if he was in a hurry or catching up to her. She self￾consciously turned again and saw him signal. Oh boy, he was coming to see her.

On the quiet walkway, she was guarded, but he was smiling. She stopped and let him catch up.

“How was your class?” He was gently teasing her, his smile warm, safe, and disarming. He was so handsome.

“Oh, kind of boring.” She teased him back, not wanting to reward his ego.

He loved her response. “Hope you didn’t fall asleep.”

“Almost. Feeling kind of drowsy now.”

He reached out his hand, “Dack Crosby.”

She took his hand, “Mia Darlington.”

“Can I buy you a coffee or drink?”

It was late afternoon. She had a couple hours. “Sure, a drink would be nice.”

“More inclined toward a beer, a glass of wine, or a drink?”

“Maybe a glass of wine.” She didn’t care, but thought the wine might lead to a nicer place. He was older and seemed refined.

“Piatti has a nice wine selection and is close by.”

“I love Piatti.”

“Meet you there in ten minutes?”


* * * *

She got in her car and just sat for a minute. She saw him back a beautiful black Porsche out and drive down the hill. Piatti was a casual but upscale Italian restaurant in University Village, just five minutes away. It was light, open, and had excellent outdoor tables. She’d always liked it. It felt safe and elegant with just the right touch of casual. It was where she took her dad when he was in town.


Well, she hadn’t expected this. She wanted to give him a chance to arrange a table so she wouldn’t have to stand around waiting. It was a little unnerving having him rush to catch up with her on a wooded trail. How did he know she was there? She would ask. How did he pick her out from the crowd? What was that all about? Lots of questions. It was in her nature to ask questions and get straightforward answers. Otherwise, there’d be trust issues.


But despite his wolfish good looks and confidence, she felt safe, and flattered. A guy like this didn’t have trouble finding women. She was selected out of a crowd. That felt good. She pulled a hand mirror out of her purse and did a light touch-up. Natural was her style. She freshened highlights on her eyes and tossed her short light brown hair. She was in jeans and a simple top that worked for Piatti and a simple glass of wine with a handsome guy. She started the car and slowly wound her way down the hill toward University Village, looking forward to hearing this guy’s story.

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