runningsoft
Well-Known Member
Artfully Expanding
This is a story request involving weight gain between two males. If its not for you, read something else.
++++++
--ACT ONE--
Holy Fuck! Steve gasped as he rounded another corner in the stairwell, the third of seven, before he reached his destination.
There were several other students who were either ahead or behind him, all rushing to get to Sculpting and Canvas 201E, room 734B, not A.
Why did the elevators need to break down today, he grunted re-shouldering his book bag and plundered on upward. Two floors to go, one floor
With squeaking shoes, owing to the downpour that came out of nowhere, Steve speedily made his way past the open classes. He rounded the corner and tried the handle.
Thank god, not locked, he muttered twisting the door open and glancing up at the clock. It read 6:00pm, not 5:50pm like it did on his and everyone elses mobile phones.
Late again? came a lilting voice to his left. The Asian girl hed sat next for the better part of this semester.
You wish, Kim. Itll take more than a broken elevator to stop me getting to this class, Steve grinned, shaking his shaggy dirty-blonde hair at her and managing to land a few droplets on her sweater.
Ohh, you splashed me. And you smell like a wet dog.
You smell like wontons, he stuck out his tongue and she threw her eraser at him playfully.
They both looked at each other and grinned, the clock now reading 6:00pm precisely the time when their instructor, Associate Professor Pamela Connors, locked the door.
Connors, a slim woman of 33, today wearing a dark pencil skirt, thin leather belt, heels and white blouse, checked her watch and clicked the lock once she reached the door.
*BANG BANG*
Come on, let us in Miss, the elevators busted. Again. How is that our fault. Came the faint whine of several stragglers.
Today students, we will be moving on to the next section of our syllabus canvas art, she said, oblivious of the still-pounding fists on the door, which seemed to be growing fainter and fainter as the defeated students knew there was no hope once that door was locked.
Hah, serves them right; we should all know by now shes a stickler for time, said Kim uncrossing and re-crossing her legs on her stool and tapping her foot again to an invisible rhythm.
Steve rolled his eyes, Umm, itd be nice if shed change her friggin wristwatch to the right time, like everyone else.
Prof. Connors continued on, stepping into the center of the class, for all the present students were in a giant circle, with a small stool sat atop a small wooden plinth.
Today we will be switching from modeling clay back to pencils; I think some of you are really weak here. And if you want to pass my final, youll take this gift and not disappoint me next month.
Ohh, I wonder if its another guy said Kim, resting her head on her hand and looking dreamily at the center of the room.
Youd like that wouldnt you! scoffed Steve, unslinging his book bag and removing the necessary items for todays illustration.
Steve was a sophomore at a liberal Arts school, with aspirations of becoming an animator. Why in hell he needed to still be working with clay and pencil was a complete mystery to him. Besides, he was a killer-genius with a Mac anyway when the hell would his degree finally specialize to more computer courses, not these designer shit courses.
Steve was 19 and of average height and build. He had a clear complexion and loved his shaggy hair. He had strong wiry arms and legs from running on the track and field team, but since the season had ended, developed a little pot belly from overindulging since he was no longer in season, training.
He came out of his reverie as Professor Connors slapped her hand on the stool in the center of the room, snapping his and all others wandering attentions.
as I was sayingour usual model for this class has taken ill and we have a temporary replacement. He is new and you will show him every courtesy that I have come to expect from you.
A few of the girls sniggered into their hands, Kim was one of them.
Hah, remember Mopey-Big-Eyes? she said, spreading her eyes wide and mimicking overly-large glasses with a vacant expression on her face.
Who could ever forget the only model weve had who was a narcoleptic and fell asleep and fell off the damn stool. Said Steve laughing slightly.
Prof. Connors had walked over to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers.
Ugh, this isnt good. Said Kim nodding her head to the stack of papers that was now being handed out.
Papers meant more work, new work. Harder work.
Todayhere Veronica, said Connors handing a sheet to a particularly large girl, I am asking of you to focus your skills on drawing the male anatomy and lower body region. You will of course, illustrate the usual anatomy, but for this assignment, you will draw the muscular anatomy.
The class groaned.
In particular, you will focus on the leg and thigh muscles, including lower abdominals and genitalia. Said Connors handing a paper to a particularly sulky boy whom Steve did not know very well.
At this last sentence, Steve perked up. Steve was gay, and had just gotten out of a really lousy relationship with a kid studying Engineering.
As Prof. Connors passed Kim and Steve, Kim let out an excited squeak.
Oooh, you know what this means? she tittered.
Yeah, I do.
The fact that they were focusing on the lower anatomy meant that they were going to have a particularly well-endowed model today. And that meant they were usually really old.
Kim nudged Steve in the ribs, No enjoyee-artee-classee-for-youee she said, mocking her own heritage for his amusement.
But he just sighed and waited for Prof. Connors to finish so that he could see the model and get it over with. Why couldnt the faculty pick a hot guy once in a while give the girls something nice to look at, and him also.
You will be working with this model for the final four weeks of term. There will be one week of review of clay and oil paintwe will be bringing back Stephanie; and then your finalfor which we will be using an entirely new model.
Steve re-arranged himself on his stool, adjusted the easel the way he always liked it and turned sideways to await would he would now be forced to obsess over for the next month.
Shoot me now. He mimed putting two fingers to his temple, making Kim laugh.
Professor Connors motioned over to the dark corner of the classroom. There, shrouded in a long robe and hooded, a man got up and approached the center of the classroom. His movements were slow and graceful, like a runway model.
He pulled back the hood and shook the outstretched hand of Prof. Connors, gave a brief smile and undid his robe, handing it to her and sat on the center stool in the pre-arranged pose he and Connors must have discussed at an earlier time: The Great Thinker.
Steve looked up and had to catch his breath.
Oh my god, he breathed, his mouth agape.
Woah. Hes fucking hot! said Kim, a little too loudly, for the model turned in her direction, and the briefest of smiles played across his face before resuming his position.
But he was so much more, thought Steve. This was an Adonis. A Greek God. And for the next 4 weeks, he would be enjoying art class very, very much.
This is a story request involving weight gain between two males. If its not for you, read something else.
++++++
--ACT ONE--
Holy Fuck! Steve gasped as he rounded another corner in the stairwell, the third of seven, before he reached his destination.
There were several other students who were either ahead or behind him, all rushing to get to Sculpting and Canvas 201E, room 734B, not A.
Why did the elevators need to break down today, he grunted re-shouldering his book bag and plundered on upward. Two floors to go, one floor
With squeaking shoes, owing to the downpour that came out of nowhere, Steve speedily made his way past the open classes. He rounded the corner and tried the handle.
Thank god, not locked, he muttered twisting the door open and glancing up at the clock. It read 6:00pm, not 5:50pm like it did on his and everyone elses mobile phones.
Late again? came a lilting voice to his left. The Asian girl hed sat next for the better part of this semester.
You wish, Kim. Itll take more than a broken elevator to stop me getting to this class, Steve grinned, shaking his shaggy dirty-blonde hair at her and managing to land a few droplets on her sweater.
Ohh, you splashed me. And you smell like a wet dog.
You smell like wontons, he stuck out his tongue and she threw her eraser at him playfully.
They both looked at each other and grinned, the clock now reading 6:00pm precisely the time when their instructor, Associate Professor Pamela Connors, locked the door.
Connors, a slim woman of 33, today wearing a dark pencil skirt, thin leather belt, heels and white blouse, checked her watch and clicked the lock once she reached the door.
*BANG BANG*
Come on, let us in Miss, the elevators busted. Again. How is that our fault. Came the faint whine of several stragglers.
Today students, we will be moving on to the next section of our syllabus canvas art, she said, oblivious of the still-pounding fists on the door, which seemed to be growing fainter and fainter as the defeated students knew there was no hope once that door was locked.
Hah, serves them right; we should all know by now shes a stickler for time, said Kim uncrossing and re-crossing her legs on her stool and tapping her foot again to an invisible rhythm.
Steve rolled his eyes, Umm, itd be nice if shed change her friggin wristwatch to the right time, like everyone else.
Prof. Connors continued on, stepping into the center of the class, for all the present students were in a giant circle, with a small stool sat atop a small wooden plinth.
Today we will be switching from modeling clay back to pencils; I think some of you are really weak here. And if you want to pass my final, youll take this gift and not disappoint me next month.
Ohh, I wonder if its another guy said Kim, resting her head on her hand and looking dreamily at the center of the room.
Youd like that wouldnt you! scoffed Steve, unslinging his book bag and removing the necessary items for todays illustration.
Steve was a sophomore at a liberal Arts school, with aspirations of becoming an animator. Why in hell he needed to still be working with clay and pencil was a complete mystery to him. Besides, he was a killer-genius with a Mac anyway when the hell would his degree finally specialize to more computer courses, not these designer shit courses.
Steve was 19 and of average height and build. He had a clear complexion and loved his shaggy hair. He had strong wiry arms and legs from running on the track and field team, but since the season had ended, developed a little pot belly from overindulging since he was no longer in season, training.
He came out of his reverie as Professor Connors slapped her hand on the stool in the center of the room, snapping his and all others wandering attentions.
as I was sayingour usual model for this class has taken ill and we have a temporary replacement. He is new and you will show him every courtesy that I have come to expect from you.
A few of the girls sniggered into their hands, Kim was one of them.
Hah, remember Mopey-Big-Eyes? she said, spreading her eyes wide and mimicking overly-large glasses with a vacant expression on her face.
Who could ever forget the only model weve had who was a narcoleptic and fell asleep and fell off the damn stool. Said Steve laughing slightly.
Prof. Connors had walked over to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers.
Ugh, this isnt good. Said Kim nodding her head to the stack of papers that was now being handed out.
Papers meant more work, new work. Harder work.
Todayhere Veronica, said Connors handing a sheet to a particularly large girl, I am asking of you to focus your skills on drawing the male anatomy and lower body region. You will of course, illustrate the usual anatomy, but for this assignment, you will draw the muscular anatomy.
The class groaned.
In particular, you will focus on the leg and thigh muscles, including lower abdominals and genitalia. Said Connors handing a paper to a particularly sulky boy whom Steve did not know very well.
At this last sentence, Steve perked up. Steve was gay, and had just gotten out of a really lousy relationship with a kid studying Engineering.
As Prof. Connors passed Kim and Steve, Kim let out an excited squeak.
Oooh, you know what this means? she tittered.
Yeah, I do.
The fact that they were focusing on the lower anatomy meant that they were going to have a particularly well-endowed model today. And that meant they were usually really old.
Kim nudged Steve in the ribs, No enjoyee-artee-classee-for-youee she said, mocking her own heritage for his amusement.
But he just sighed and waited for Prof. Connors to finish so that he could see the model and get it over with. Why couldnt the faculty pick a hot guy once in a while give the girls something nice to look at, and him also.
You will be working with this model for the final four weeks of term. There will be one week of review of clay and oil paintwe will be bringing back Stephanie; and then your finalfor which we will be using an entirely new model.
Steve re-arranged himself on his stool, adjusted the easel the way he always liked it and turned sideways to await would he would now be forced to obsess over for the next month.
Shoot me now. He mimed putting two fingers to his temple, making Kim laugh.
Professor Connors motioned over to the dark corner of the classroom. There, shrouded in a long robe and hooded, a man got up and approached the center of the classroom. His movements were slow and graceful, like a runway model.
He pulled back the hood and shook the outstretched hand of Prof. Connors, gave a brief smile and undid his robe, handing it to her and sat on the center stool in the pre-arranged pose he and Connors must have discussed at an earlier time: The Great Thinker.
Steve looked up and had to catch his breath.
Oh my god, he breathed, his mouth agape.
Woah. Hes fucking hot! said Kim, a little too loudly, for the model turned in her direction, and the briefest of smiles played across his face before resuming his position.
But he was so much more, thought Steve. This was an Adonis. A Greek God. And for the next 4 weeks, he would be enjoying art class very, very much.
