I began to feel a little more at ease again as we let the moonlit sky guide us to the art class areas. I’m sure my relaxed, casual attitude was enhanced by the punch at the party that his friend had tampered with, but it was ok. I was enjoying my time with him. He seemed nice, down to earth. I wondered if maybe, we might continue contact, like pen palls or something even after he goes back. Somehow I was too shy to ask him that, but I wasn’t too shy to let him paint a nude of me.

I hadn’t even considered that it might be locked for the night, but conveniently enough, the doors were open.

“I don’t know what my major will be just yet. For now I take the basics, English class, a Trig, and Physics. And you? What are your studies?”, I asked quite curious, although I assumed some sort of art.

The reason why the doors had been opened had been Amos' doing of course. He had found them to be locked but applied his telekinetic ability to the situation to unlock them, then entered already finding his way to the art department and the room that he intended on using, hiding there.

He would have masked himself with an illusion but would probably loose control of the hold he had on the hijacked image. As it was something as simple as opening the doors had been difficult enough.

Deke entered as he lead the way turning on the lights where applicible. He tended to know where they were as if he had been here before as he virtual lead her to one of the classrooms, the one he had been hiding in beneath the only desk here a large wooden desk that was for the teacher. There was even space for him as there had been a huge gap where someone would keep their legs.

"Graphic arts and visual arts ..." he answered as they went along the hall way of the building, opened the door to one of the classrooms and then flicked the lights on that went on with a flicker. "Double major so I usually don't have a ton of free time because of it, all the projects you know."

“That’s great. I have taken art in the past. I love to paint, although I’m not good at it. Surely nothing I could major in”, I replied, as the room became illumined. I began walking around to all the paintbrushes. I enjoyed how the bristles felt gliding against my fingertips. Some were stiff and some were so very soft. Art rooms are always so full of life and color. Even if they have a tinge of messiness added to the mix, with paint splashes you know have been there for years, I always have felt right at home there.

After pacing the room a bit, taking in all the sights and smells, and having completely forgotten the original reason we come here, I plopped down on top of one of the desks. “UOOo!”, I yelped as the frigid cold met with the backside of my thighs and ass as my skirt floated up over the desk’s surface. My chest jerked left and right, as I began to franticly tuck the fabric under my butt as much as I could with a skirt that short, while also making sure to keep the front down in the process. “Woo, that was sure cold” I explained my outburst.

“So what year are you?”, I asked returning my attention back to him.

Are you alright? He would have asked but she explained her outburst as being cold and not hurt or feeling pain or sickness. Thus far Amos played the role of concerned yet shy nerd rather well. Of course he couldn't wait to carve her up and make her his subject in more ways then one but the timing was not right for it. He still had some fun to lead up to the moment ...

He drew a stand closer that had a pad of paper already set in it propped up by a back drop. He flicked to a blank sheet and looked over the selection of brushes and colored pencils. There were no paints as he suspected they would be stored away between classes he supposed.

"Sophomore 'wise fool and all'," he directed her with his hand away from the desk to a stool closer to the center of the room where no doubt models posed for aspiring artists. He thought for a second scribbled something on the pad with the purple pencil in all of 4 or 5 seconds, his eyes on her the whole time rather than the pad.

"Ta Da, finished," he turned the pad towards her so that she could see the stick figure etched on it with a bubbled head and a smily face. "Kidding ..." He flipped the page on the pad over then glance back at her then the blank pad taking up another pencil, this one a well used black one that had been whittled down half way or so.

Of course our purpose for being here came flooding back to me as the nice quiet boy gently took my hand to guide me to the stage of models. I was a tiny bit tipsy thanks to the punch. I’d had little to no experience with alcohol in my life up till now, and even though it made me quite relaxed, the butterflies still found their way to my stomach, but I laughed at his pretend drawing, and it helped me feel more at ease.

I sat on the stool on stage, resting one foot on the highest rail of the support below me, and my other foot stayed firmly planted on the ground. I placed one hand on my lowered bare thigh at first before shifting to join my other arm that was now wrapping around the elevated knee. I wasn’t thinking that he might have a nice view if he was peaking under my skirt at the tiny sheer panties, as he sit slightly below me. I was however aware of the extra cleavage he might see, with my full tits now smashed and trying to escape my bra and buttoned blouse.

I was no model, and blushed uncontrollably, smirking shyly at him. “So … how is this?” I asked still in my clothes, despite my earlier request to be sketched in the nude.

"Nice ..." he commented though he had yet to take his eyes off her as he remained motionless, the pencil dangling before the page though not touching it as he seemed paralyzed for a moment. His eyes rested on her added cleavage then after a few seconds he began to sketch looking back and staring at her for a few seconds at a time.

His cheeks had flushed with color though as he worked onward it was apparent by the way that he shifted in his stole from time to time that he was trying to make himself comfortable in light of his rising problem as his blood boiled over and his pants pitched a tent so to speak.

He tried to draw but she would note that there seemed to be a small tremble rising up in his hands ...

I tried to sit perfectly still, so as not to disturb any particular feature he might have been trying to draw at the time. At first completely consumed only by my own body’s positioning, my smile, stomach in, shoulders back, but I saw him pause a few times causing my focus to shift to him.

I wondered what he was thinking, quiet, but seemably in deep thought as his eyes traced my shape with his eyes more then with his pencil. His complexion changed, blushing it seemed, and the bulge that made itself visible, silently answered my question. I wondered if the blood from his now still hand was being used elsewhere.

I became very self-conscious again, and the concerns of whether or not I should have left the party returned, but I held still, holding my pose. Maybe he would once again assure me. “Are you okay Deacon?”, I said in a tone just above a whisper, the throat drying from the echo in this empty room holding just us two.

"Yeah ... I'm fine ... just got distracted there for a second or so thinking about the upcoming movie I got due for my visual arts course." Distracted, of course, though from his upcoming assignment that had been unlikely though he went back to the sketch afterwards as his pencil danced over the page.

He changed up a few times with the colors then shaded with the black one a few times though it him about ten minutes he paused, lowered his pencil and looked from her to the sketch then back again.

"Finished."

My body was fatiguing already, as I tried to remain in one position. My eyes blinked, my chest lifted and fell, and every now and then an embarrassed curious smirk floated across my lips, but I remained like a mannequin otherwise. Then suddenly he was finished.

“Oh, great, let me see!”, I erupted as I sprung off the stool. I paused for a second before I reached him, to stretch my arms high in the air, causing my blouse to lift, stressing my buttons as I arched my back, exposing my stomach for a moment. Then I was there, right next to him with my hand on he shoulder, pressing my boobs against his back as I peered over to get a look at the master piece.

He held his breath, shuddered a little, as he closed his eyes for a second or so as he felt her breasts press up against his back as she moved closer to him in order to get a better look at his sketch. It had been quick but life like almost like a photograph.

Some of the colors were rather bland though and could have been better and probably would have if he had access to his own stuff rather than what they had been using here at the school.

"Not my best ... the shading isn't right and the colors are less vivid than those I'm use to working with ..."

I enjoyed the way he felt pressed against me. I could feel him breathing, and as if I was listening to our breaths co-mingling, there was silence for a moment before he began to almost apologize the portrait he had done. Then I kissed his cheek gently, “it’s amazing Deacon. I don’t believe you captured my image on paper so well, and so quickly. You are gifted”, I said smiling as I slowly backed away from him.

“Do another …”, I requested, hoping he was up for it. “How shall I pose next time?”, I stood ready for his art direction, as I played model, striking pose after pose, waiting for him to say freeze.

He blushed at the kiss. "Ok ..." he flipped the pad over to a blank piece of paper then paused for a moment as he pondered. He watched as she posed for him, considering on each one then careful saw things in his mind.

"That one, where you've got your hands pressed to the stool and slightly bend over it ..." he hummed to himself nearly silently as he took up one of the pencils he had been using. "I ... I would like to do ... I would perfer to um ... do a nude now."

I felt my whole body flush as his words washed over me skin, as if his fingertips were actually touching me. My cheeks now matched his, in pinkness. “Ahh … ok”, I said swallowing hard, knowing I should follow through with this, it was my idea after all. The room was instantly 20 degrees hotter, my body begged to feel the free flowing air outside my clothes, but my fingers moved as if they had forgotten how to slide the tiny flat circles through the tiny straight slits in the fabric tightly wrapped around me. There was no rush I figured. The longer it took me the more he would want to see what is underneath the veils we call clothes.

I slowly slid the open shirt over my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor. I undid the zipper on my skirt and it fell to join my shirt as I stepped out and over them. My nipples protruded the sheer fabric still binding my heavy chest, and the tiny straps at my hips holding the small triangular peaces of lace over my pussy and backside did little to hide my form from the boy studying his subject mater so intently. “All the way nude?” I whispered, glancing up playfully aroused now.

"If ... if you don't mind ..." he said a bit distracted as he watched her. This of course would be easier, Amos believed given that Anna was about to get naked and thus making it easier to assault her. He watched on as best as he could from beneath the desk.

There had not been too much to see other than the legs of the illusion and the subject at this stage though he was still able to respond easily enough with the hijacked illusion making it act accordingly.

He still had Deke respond as a timid man-boy. His gaze flickering shyly away to the pad then back at her and the pad again as if he had been distracted.

Sure that I had his attention, whether I was really ready for it or not I wasn’t sure, but I continued by pulling the straps of my bra over my shoulders before freeing my breasts from their supportive cups. With the band now looser around my small waist, I easily spun it around to unclasp it, so it could join the pile on the floor. Last but not least, my panties. I slid them slowly over my hips and ass, and bent forward to pull them passed my touching thighs, to step out and away from the tiny pink bands that shielded the last private part of my body.

More aware of my own nakedness then ever before, I blushed again, as the real temperature of the room covered my body in goose bumps. My nipples hardened, and I instinctively reached up to console them with warm hands. I took the pose he said he liked. I placed my hands firmly on the seat of the stool, which forced me to bend over slightly. My tits left their resting position against my chest, and the room’s air brushed against my tenderly exposed slit between my thighs. I took stage so that the view he had was of a slight profile, and then I turned, looking directly at him, twisting at the waist, “how is this?”, I said with a coy smile in place.