Life modelling

You stumbled onto the stage, blinking under the powerful lights, and looked around the room.

All of the women are sitting behind an easel, looking expectantly at you.

"I know you've been asking for a life modelling class for a while, and Sam here has volunteered to stand in. It's his first life modelling gig, so he's a little shy, so let's give him a big hand!"

You smile weakly as the class breaks into applause, but your hands are still clasped over your crotch.

"It's OK, Sam, we've all seen plenty of penises before," the artist closest to you says.

"Move your hands, or I'm marching you over to netball practice," Ms Webb whispers in your ear.

Quick as a flash, you drop your hands and adopt the first position.

A chorus of disappointed sighs reaches your ears, mixed in with a few giggles.

"Such a shame," someone remarks.

"He's frankly being cruel to his girlfriend," says another.

"Actually, Sam here is a virgin," Ms Webb announced gleefully.

"That's probably for the best," a new voice called out. "He doesn't deserve sex with a penis that small!"

"Ms Webb!" you plead, tears in your eyes.

"Alright, that's enough," she says to the class. "There's nothing wrong with a LITTLE teasing, but we don't want to get poor Sam all worked up."

The conversation dies down, and a few minutes later, the room is quiet, the silence only broken by the noises of scratching pencils, shifting chairs, and low whispers. You keep your eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling, but the more you try not to think about your exposure, the more aware you become of it.

"Very good. Feet are always tricky to draw, keep trying." Ms Webb was walking around the class, offering advice and praise here and there. "You can draw it flaccid, just go from what your eyes are...Sam, please try to control yourself."

"I think someone is enjoying this!" someone joked, and a collective giggle swept around the

[room.

To

](http://room.To) your horror, you look down and see that you've become hard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-!"

"It's alright, Sam," Ms Webb says, patronisingly. "I'm sure it's just this cool air and all these ladies seeing you nude that's got your little guy overexcited. But please try to calm down, we need him nice and floppy."

You take some deep breaths, and a few minutes later, the class is able to resume. Resume sketching your totally bare body. You didn't even have a mask on. If these portraits ever got circulated, everyone would know-

"Sam, what did I just say?"

Your penis is standing erect once more.

"May I suggest something?" the lady nearest to you interrupts. "All this excitement is obviously arousing our little virgin. Maybe if we give him what he's after, he'll stay floppy."

"Well, I suppose it's worth a try," Ms Webb shrugs. "If you'd like to do the honours."

You were still trying to work out what they were talking about, but the mystery was solved when she stepped up onto the stage. Without asking for permission, she wraps her hand around your penis and starts to pump away.

You'd fantasised about several girls at school touching you down there, but you'd never considered for a second that the first person to pleasure it with their hand would be an old woman.

Momentarily forgetting where you are, you close your eyes and simply enjoy the sensation of your first handjob. The woman's many years of experience, allied to your never having passed first base before, means it doesn't take very long before you're wallowing in an orgasmic release.

"Wooo! There we go!"

The woman slows her tempo and eventually releases you, quickly patting you down with some tissues.

"Be honest, how do I compare to your other hand jobs?" she winked.

"Umm...well, actually...that's my first one..."

"Oh, wonderful! It's not often you get your hands on a virgin!"

As your heart rate slows, you realise everyone was watching you, and that two dozen strangers have now seen your cum face. You instinctively throw your hands back over your crotch, but this only leads to more laughter.

"Next pose, please, Sam," Ms Webb says, grabbing your hands as she contorts your body into the correct posture. Standing so close to you, you watch as she stares down at the place between your legs, grins, and winks at you.

xxx

"Please, no more!" you plead as another woman steps forward.

Despite the combined best efforts of both yourself and the class, you can't stop getting hard. Every single time, a new volunteer would step forward to finish you off, and any pleasure you may have gained from the experience was long gone. Your seed sparkled on the studio floor as a constant reminder to you, but you were barely adding to it now.

"Little Sam does look a bit sore. I suppose he's not used to being played with this much."

"So, what? I've just got to start my drawing again, because he's ruining it now!"

"Don't worry, ladies," Ms Webb declares. "I've got another solution."

The art teacher grabs a plastic container and walks over to the water dispenser. Opening the front hatch, she scoops some ice into the bowl. With that evil grin still on her face, she walks over to you and, without warning, plunges your junk into the ice.

You shriek as cold floods through your nether regions, which elicits the loudest laugh yet. When you're flaccid again, Miss Webb steps away. You hug yourself and shiver violently as water droplets sparkle on your frozen junk.

"Boy, I bet you wish you were wearing clothes now, aye, Sam?" came the cry.

"Actually, I think we've gone too far the other way," Ms Webb commented, admiring her handiwork. "Forget little Sam, he's more like tiny Sam now."

"Miniscule Sam!"

"Sub-atomic Sam!"

"Wait...never mind, looks like he's growing again."

"Please...please stop now..." you mumble, blinking back tears.

"Oh, Sammy boy," Ms Webb laughs. "We're only getting started."