Page 1 of Claiming His Muse

Chapter 1

Blake

When I sat down with my advisor to plan my classes for my last semester, I couldn’t believe that I managed to miss one of the foundational classes for my degree specialization. My advisor was even more surprised – apparently, I managed to get into the upper level studios with having a basic anatomy class. Despite all of my efforts to get the requirement waived, an exception couldn’t be made for me, so I’m taking Composition and Anatomy 101 as a senior.

The first few classes were mind-numbingly boring, introducing skills that I’d already learned in high school. I’ve been painting since I was a child, and when I started making plans to further my education, I knew I wanted to do everything I could to become a professional artist. I took classes at the community center, and by the time I was applying for universities, I had an impressive portfolio and a mastery of most basic skills.

I’m not the only kid that came in with a high level of skill. If there’s one thing being in college has taught me, it’s that I‘ll always have more to learn. Still, I can’t help but think I’m a little above this freshman-level course. At least it’s good practice.

I’m setting up my paper when the model walks in. In the past, I haven’t really paid them any mind. Sure, whoever it is sits up there naked, but drawing them in this kind of setting is a far cry from titillating. There are so many other students, plus the time constraint doesn’t really allow for any contemplation of their body past the best way to translate it to the page. But something tugs at my attention, tells me to get a good look at who I’m going to be drawing before class officially starts.

When I look at her, it’s like time stops. Our model is drop-dead gorgeous with curly blonde hair that lands just below her shoulders and legs that go on for days. She turns her head toward me, flashing her unique eyes – the left is blue, and the right is green. I’ve never wanted to paint anyone more. Her beauty is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

I want to get up and talk to her, but at that moment, the professor walks in and starts talking. I don’t really listen to him, too distracted by the model walking up to her stool. I catch her name from the professor’s introduction – Jenny.

When Jenny drops her robe, revealing a toned stomach and perfect, perky tits, my cock stirs in my jeans. I do my best to ignore it, though. The last thing I want is to be caught with a hard-on by my classmates. So I throw myself into drawing the best picture of her I can.

The class period flies by, and before I know it, Jenny’s standing up and shrugging back into her robe. I pack my things up as quickly as possible, intent on going up to her and introducing myself. She’s faster than me, though. By the time I get my sketch put away, she’s gone.

I curse myself as I leave the studio, knocking shoulders with my classmates through the doorway. Then, when I get out of the building, I decide to take the long way home. I need to clear my head. This crush I have is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. We haven’t even spoken to each other, and she’s consuming every single one of my thoughts.

When I get to my apartment, the front door is locked – a sure sign that Dom, my roommate, isn’t here. Since I’m alone, I think taking a different approach might be necessary. I might just be horny. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone, so it makes sense that I’m fired up after seeing someone as stunning as Jenny.

I head to my bedroom, locking the door behind me just in case Dom shows up, and pull out my drawing from earlier. I’ve captured her likeness fairly well, but since it’s in black and white, it’s not an exact depiction. Thankfully, I have a pretty good imagination.

My dick immediately starts to get hard at the sight of her. I trace my finger over the graphite lines as I picture her perfectly-sculpted face in front of me instead of on paper. I think about her plump, pink pout and round, soft cheeks. I wonder what they’d look like in the throes of pleasure.

Groaning as I pull myself out of my pants, I close my eyes and imagine her two-toned irises. I’ve seen photographs of people with heterochromia, but I’ve never encountered it in person. Somehow, it’s even more stunning up close. Add that onto Jenny’s beautiful body and gorgeous face, and it’s ethereal.

As I stroke my cock, my hips jut forward without my permission. I didn’t get a good look at her ass because of the angle that she was perched at. It allowed me to get a good look at her face, but I almost wish that could have seen her from behind. I’m willing to bet she’s just as beautiful from behind as she is from the front.

My grip tightens as I imagine what I’m sure is a shapely ass. I want to touch her everywhere and mark up that gorgeous, pale skin. I’m overcome with an intense desire to claim her as mine. I don’t care that she doesn’t know who I am yet; she will.

The last thought I have before I spill my seed all over my fist is that I have to find Jenny. Chances are, my class isn’t the only one she poses for.

Chapter 2

Jenny

The first time I modeled for an art class, it was on a dare from my roommate, Miranda. She said it would be good for my self-esteem, and even though I didn’t believe her, I still went along with the idea. The extra money sounded nice, and if I didn’t like it, it wasn’t like I had to do it again.

As luck would have it, I actually really enjoyed it. At the end of the first session, a few of the students came up to me to thank me for sitting in, and they even showed me their drawings. Like Jenny suggested it would, it gave me a major boost to my confidence. I signed up to model for more classes before I even changed out of my robe.

This semester, I’ve already modeled for a few. The students and professors both like having me sit in because of how still I’m able to hold myself. I wasn’t even aware that that was a talent someone could have, but from what I’ve heard, most models get twitchy around the twenty-minute mark. If the stool were more comfortable, I think I could stay in the same position for hours.

When I walk into the next class I’m scheduled for, most of the students are already there and set up. Out of habit, I scan the room – I figure if they’re going to be staring at me naked for nearly an hour, I can see who’s going to be drawing me. Usually, all of this faces blur together, but this time, one sticks out.

The man is handsome, with light brown hair that’s just the right side of long. His face is clean shaven, showing off his chiseled jawline. His eyes, chocolate brown, are already on me. In them, I see a kind of intensity that I’ve never seen in other students. It’s like he’s seeing me rather than a model. It makes my stomach feel warm as something like anticipation builds in my chest.

It might just be a coincidence that the handsome guy from the class I modeled for is here, but my hopeless romantic heart wants to believe he came for me.

That’s a silly notion, I know it. No one’s ever been seriously interested in me. If they have been, I haven’t been able to pick up on it.

When the professor starts talking, I drop my robe and settle onto the wooden stool, careful to pick a position that won’t kill my back. Intentionally, I turn myself toward the attractive man. While he’s distracted with his drawing, I’ll look to my heart’s content. Sometimes sitting for these sessions gets incredibly boring, it’ll be nice to have something – or someone – to entertain myself with.

The instructor finishes his talk, and the sound of pencils against paper fills the room. All eyes are on me, but I don’t feel uncomfortable. Everyone in this room is too focused on getting their drawings just right. Their gazes are more academic than anything else. I’m not sure how I’d react if their eyes were prying, if they were looking at me like they were interested in me.

I know it sounds strange considering how many people have seen me naked, but I’m a virgin. It isn’t because I’ve never been interested in anyone, but I’m shy. The thought of approaching someone that I think is attractive is terrifying to me.

---