Nude Life Model: MFM Hotwife Fiction

It was something my husband had set up as a joint birthday gift for the both of us.

We both loved art, and he wanted to have a painting of me, whereas I was looking forward to the experience.

This MFM hotwife erotica short is approximately 4000 words.

EXTRACT:

My husband knew me well enough to know about my exhibitionist fantasies, and together we’d go to some lengths to live them out. We’d go naked in public whenever we had the opportunity and have sneaky sex in places we shouldn’t.

Although I had many fantasies about being naked in front of strangers, I didn’t expect anything sexual to happen. My research told me the worst thing I had to fear was long hours of boredom, getting cold, or cramping.

When a stunningly handsome man opened the door wearing navy blue shorts and yellow flip-flops on his feet, I took a step backward with surprise. It wasn’t as much what he was wearing as all the missing items.

My hungry gaze feasted on his muscular chest and rippling abs that weren’t covered by a stitch of clothing.

The man had to spend half his life working out to keep in such shape.

Eyes on his face, girl.

“Maxine? Come on in; Jean-Paul is polishing his equipment in the studio.” The man held out a hand. “I’m Carter, his assistant.”

When I did not attempt to step forward, and my gaze once again fell to his sculpted torso, he seemed to understand the question in my mind.

“It’s very warm in here. JP has it warm to make sure you’re comfortable at work. He doesn’t want you shivering or your skin turning to gooseflesh.”

I don’t know why, but the roundabout way this strange man referred to the fact that I was going to be nude without actually stating my job involved me being naked made me feel a little weird.

His hand was warm. “That’s very considerate. It’s good to meet you.”

“Come this way.”

I stepped inside and followed Carter along a corridor until we reached the artist’s studio; the door was open.

The instant I saw him, I recognized Jean-Paul from his publicity photographs; he was a little bit famous in our town at least.

Despite his current lack of clothes, he looked exactly like his image on the internet; he was similarly dressed to Carter but with blue flip-flops.

He looked up as he heard us approach, and instantly, he greeted me as if we were long-time friends. Carter silently slipped away, leaving me alone with the great artist.

“Maxine! I’m so pleased you made it; I’m JP.”

Of course, I made it. We have an appointment.

“Come on in, and let me show you around. you’ll work Over there.” He pointed to a staging area with a white floor, a white background, lots of bright lights, and a camera pointing at it.

“And this is my workspace.”...

JP never closed the door to the studio.

When I went to strip off, he turned his attention toward his camera. It took only seconds to slip off my shoes and dress.

Holding my head up high, I rolled my shoulders and walked to the area he’d already told me was mine.

I gave a little cough to get his attention before asking, “How do you want me?”

JP barely glanced at me and replied, “Make yourself comfortable anywhere over there. Any position you like.”