Model Et Tu? - Sex Stories

Model Et Tu?

I had been nude modeling for art classes since I was in college and it as a quick way to make some money. It didn't bother me that I might be in a class where one (or several) of the students knew me, I was "just" the Model.

I was prepared for this particular session to be a two person set of poses, with me being the man, and a woman I didn't know being the other half of that.

What I wasn't prepare for, was that the woman in this case that I was going to be modeling with today... was my ex-wife. And since both of us had agreed to do this, she couldn't back out, no matter how much her dislike and disdain of me rolled off of her in rivers of intensity. Never mind her eyes shooting daggers at me.

"We have to go through with this, but you are not to touch me, in any way," she told me in no uncertain terms. "Do you understand?"

Sighing, I told her "Yes. This is a job only."

She was older than me by about ten years, her now being forty-two. We had been divorced for about two years, since our marriage had led to a whirlwind of regrets and shouting matches.

I realized too late that I should never have married her in the first place... But I had made the mistake of falling in love with her. Big Mistake.

But she had a body at the age of 40, that most women at twenty would kill for. Not very large breasts, but her tight little body was perfection (to me). She looked as if she were twenty-five, instead of the forty-five year old that she was rapidly becoming.

Of ...

... course I then found to why she had that body. Her mind was more like seventeen (at best). I'd married someone who had the body of a younger woman, but I came to realize it reflected her emotional age, and not her chronological one.

Now, normally I would be sitting next to a much older and usually out of shape woman in whom I had not interest in whatsoever. It was not hard to keep myself from getting hard.

Sitting next to my ex- was different. I had slept with this body. I had made love to it. I had heard it scream my name in ecstasy (in the beginning). And that body was hard to put out of my mind.

But I was a professional. And we weren't doing anything sexy in the privacy of our own apartment. I knew how to keep my libido in check. I wasn't going to 'blow it.' I was going to save that for when Sharon was dressed and I was alone in the back room later.

She had divorced me mainly because I would not take care of her, like a daddy instead of a husband. She always seemed to find a man who would fall in love with her, and then live to regret it. I was husband number three.

And she had gone on (was perhaps seeing him before we were even divorced) to marry husband number four. By the age of forty-two.

Which left me wondering why she was doing what she obviously hated doing. I found out later, that her next husband (from me), had had the audacity to die from prostrate cancer, six months after they were married.

"I heard that you were married. Is that not working ...