This is the second excerpt from my “The Naked Truth”. Read Part One first if you’ve not done so. It’ll make more sense…well maybe …ha!
I’m in trouble, not the kind of trouble that you get into when your little sister tells mom you’ve stolen from the cookie jar, or even the kind that gets you invited into the bosses office because you told your immediate supervisor to go fuck himself. No, I mean trouble like I am standing completely naked in front of a classroom full of female college students in an art class and a young, dark complected girl with long black hair and gorgeous eyes is chewing on the end of her pencil as she stares wildly and intensely up at you. There is that feeling a guy will get when the blood begins to rush to certain areas of the body and there is no turning it around, well there I am, she’s hot, she’s playing me and although I am enjoying the attention I am also trying desperately to think of something horrible and ugly and gross and it isn’t working. Suddenly a voice from a Monty Python movie echoes in my mind…”run away, run away”. Only in this scene there isn’t a crazed blood thirsty rabbit, instead its eight inches of crazed blood thirsty manhood.
At this point I am only 2 minutes into my 5 minute pose and God help me if she does the tongue thing I’m screwed. So I avert my eyes, I’m looking far off into the corners of the room, but unfortunately like all men, there is some dumb biological bullshit thing that makes us do shit we know we shouldn’t do. It’s the same thing that makes us look directly at the sun when we step outside and are surprised by how bright it is. So my gaze begins to drift again, and that same girl whose sitting there straddling the painting horse, is now leaning forward, with her blouse gapped at the third button and her cleavage exposed, pointed straight at me, and just as if it were scripted, I look at her eyes and she smiles a wry smile out the corner of her glossed mouth and licks her bottom lip.
The sweat starts to roll down my back at this point and my scalp grows itchy as my groin is flooded by every last drop of A Negative I have in reserve. I’ve got one minute left in this pose and I can feel the King, yes I have named it the King, please as if you don’t have your own over achiever pet name for the little monster, the King begins to coil like some Cobra from the Indian flutists snake basket in the town bazaar. I’m begging God at this point, and then I thought to myself I wonder if Jesus ever had this problem, out roaming the streets in his sandals and robe checking out all the faithless prospects, I think there was a reason his posse were all men, because every time he got together with the first twelve who happened to be the backup singers for the Original Temptations, they didn’t get any work done and they weren’t drinking the dudes blood either. Let’s face it; he’s Gods only son, I don’t think he would’ve let his familial prodigy strut around without a magnificent package.
Suddenly I heard some commotion and looked down to see the girl walking out of the room, I looked down ever further and noticed the King has retired for the evening, ahh religion has its way doesn’t it, I was proud that I could handle the situation but felt bad at the same time for feeling pride over not sporting a rager. I’m confused and relieved.
You might think that modeling is all glamour, spotlights and applause, you might also think that the girl on the other end of the phone when you call the dating night life hot lines is actually as hot as she appears on TV, well you are either stupid or sadly mistaken my friend. Fact is I was looking for a part time job to cover the costs of some ungodly expensive special diet dog food to put in my rescue poodle’s fancy dish when I came across a Craig’s List ad for modeling at the local university, yes I was on Craig’s List, me, the cop acting like an underage girl fishing for perverts and that guy trying to sell his booger art. As unglamorous as that is it wasn’t as bad as my first gig at the Lutheran College.
to be cont…