Modeling for an art class.

Candace shivered, even though it wasn't cold at all. She rubbed her shoulders, feeling them through the thin silk robe she was wearing. This was alright, she reminded herself, this was normal. People did this. She'd been on the other side of this situation countless times.

Candace was in her last year of art college, ready to graduate and take on the world. She was a painting major, and with that came class after class of nude models. She'd seen more naked people than she could count, people of all different shapes and sizes and genders and ages. Before she'd started school, the idea made her blush, but she was surprised of the un-sexiness of the situation once she was actually there. Sure, in reality she was being faced with skin and dicks and asses and pussies, but all she saw was shape, shadow, positive and negative space.

Now, though, she was about to be on the other side.

She'd long thought it would be right of her to pay her dues, having stared at so many nude models. With her tenure at school nearing an end, she figured this day was as good as any. She'd been very embarrassed when she asked the teacher if there were any openings - god, her face had been red as a tomato - but still, she knew it was the cosmically right thing to do.

But now that she was actually there, in the smaller-than-she-thought classroom, wearing nothing but a thin robe, her stomach was doing back flips. The students were setting up their easels, surrounding a platform in the middle of the room. The platform was bare and white, and lit by a couple of clamp lights. No doubt all sorts of interesting shadows would spring up on her exposed skin. She took a deep, stabilizing breath, then massaged the back of her neck. This was going to be an experience.

"Alright everyone," the professor said, clapping their hands to get the students' attention. "Let's get this show on the road."

Candace looked around at the class.