I have passed the 10,000 word mark for November a full day ahead of the pace. And as I said in the last post, I had 4000 words done before November started, so the manuscript is actually over 14,000 words now. Here's an excerpt from the first draft of Chapter One (it very much revolves around art modeling, but it is fiction):
The first time I ever laid
eyes on Lydia Nelson, she was as naked as Lady Godiva on her famous ride
through Coventry. Of course, I could
also say that the first time Lydia ever laid eyes on me, I was as naked as
Michelangelo’s David. So in that, we
were even.
I had been modeling for the figure drawing classes at
the university for almost a year when she stepped into my life. Late in the semester most of the classes used
two models in some sort of long pose. I
had already done one such class earlier that week, with a young waif of a girl
named Kelsey. I had known Kelsey before
we shared a platform; she and I had met several times in the little changing
room that was shared by all the models.
The University of North Texas had what was probably the largest art
program in the state. There were at
least two classes using models at any one time during the day from Monday
through Thursday. So the models’
changing room was very busy whenever one set of classes, say the eight o’clock
to ten-fifty period, ended and then next classes, like the eleven o’clock to
one-fifty period, began.
I show up early to every class, and that Thursday two
o’clock class was no exception. Two
other models were in the changing room when I got there, getting dressed from
the previous session. One of them was Walter,
who was a fixture in the art department.
He had been a model at UNT for at least twenty years, and was the only
person on the model list older than I was.
The other model was a beautiful blonde student named Rochelle. She was topless with a bra in her hand when I
gave a courtesy knock and entered, her large breasts, with the colorless almost
white nipples, seeming to defy gravity.
“Hey
guys,” I said as I slipped into the room, being careful to make sure that the
door didn’t swing too far open, not that Walter or Rochelle would have minded
an audience that much after having just spent three hours in their birthday
suits in front of a classroom full of people.
“How
goes it?” I said in polite greeting.
I found
a spot on the counter next to Rochelle’s stuff to set my bag, zipped it open,
and rummaged around for my robe.
“Ready
to go home and soak in a hot bath,” Rochelle said as she slipped into her bra
and tried to fasten it in the back.
She continued
to struggle as I pulled my shoes and socks off.
Finally, I stepped behind her.
“Here,” I said and fastened the bra for her.
“Thanks. One long three hour pose,” she said, shaking
her head. “My left arm doesn’t want to
bend like it used to.”
“How
many breaks?” I asked.
“Just
Three.”
“You are
an iron woman,” Walter said. He slung
his backpack on and started for the door.
“Catch y’all later.”
Rochelle
and I both said bye as Walter slipped out.
I looked at the schedule on the wall as I slipped out of my pants and
saw “David Michaels & Lydia Nelson” under the 2 to 5 Room 324 column.
“Do you know this Lydia I’m supposed to be modeling
with?” I asked Rochelle.
“Nope. I saw
her name on the schedule last week, but I’ve never met her.”
“You should hang around,” I suggested. “If she doesn’t show, you might get some
extra hours.” The thought of sharing a
platform for three hours with a nude Rochelle was a very pleasant one.
“I would if I wasn’t already tired as hell. Besides, she must have showed up last week,
or she wouldn’t have been on the schedule this time.”
That was true.
The UNT model coordinator was very unforgiving of models who didn’t show
up when they were scheduled. Rochelle
pulled her t-shirt on as I slipped mine off.
“Good luck with ‘Lydia,’” Rochelle said.
I was naked by then, shaking my robe out and trying
to find my sleeve, which had been turned inside out after my last session. Rochelle backed out the door, looking at me and
winking as she went.
“See ya,” I said, and then I was alone.
I put my robe on and tied it closed. My house slippers were still in my bag. I pulled them out, dropped them on the floor,
and put my bare feet into them. I
thought about staying in the changing room and waiting for Lydia, just so I
could introduce myself before we had to spend three hours naked together. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw
that I had four minutes until the schedule start of class. I started folding my clothes and setting them
on the top of my modeling bag.
