naked gl

一

Chen Jiao felt that she was born to be a prostitute.

For example, when it comes to taking off her clothes, she just takes off her clothes. She doesn't have any feelings of embarrassment or shame, and she doesn't have so much twitching.

She is a northerner, tall and long-legged, with a well-proportioned figure and a straightforward and bold temperament. She will give whatever the guests want, so many people look for her.

Two days ago, a guest introduced her to a studio as a nude model.She thought about it, and the job wasn't too difficult, and she was also curious about what it would be like to be in oil painting, so she went.

There were about a dozen students in the studio. When Chen Jiao entered the classroom, she could smell a strong smell of paint, and the marble floor was also covered in colorful patterns.Chen Jiao didn't look directly at the students. She took off her long windbreaker, undid the fabric on her body, and flicked her long wavy hair, and lay down on the leather sofa pointed by the teacher.

The sofa was also stained with mottled paint stains, one by one on the leather.The indoor air conditioner was not fully turned on, and many students were still wearing sweaters. Chen Jiao lay naked on the cool and slippery sofa, feeling goose bumps on her body layer by layer.

The teacher pulled down the curtains, the room became dark, and then a light came on, shining on Chen Jiao's head.Chen Jiao felt a little dazzling, and couldn't help but look up, and found that the teacher was squinting at her while adjusting the lights.

Chen Jiao was naked, and nearly forty eyes were staring at her in the classroom.Chen Jiao didn't take a close look at the expressions of those students, it must be hard to see where they are going, she doesn't care much, isn't everything full of meat?

The teacher adjusted the lights and came to adjust her posture.He was very close, standing in front of Chen Jiao, his two big hands passed through Chen Jiao's armpit, and his thumb quietly wiped her breast.

Chen Jiao glared at him, not daring to be presumptuous in front of the students, he coughed, hastily adjusted his posture, and stepped aside.

The students all started to write, their heads lowered and raised from time to time.Hold a pencil in front of you, squint your eyes and measure carefully.

They observed Chen Jiao, and Chen Jiao observed them.She was placed in a position lying on her side with her head supported, just in time to look at these people.This is an adult studio, with a wide range of ages.More men than women.

Sometimes someone's eyes met Chen Jiao's, and that person would just smile, not knowing what he was thinking.

Chen Jiao was a little numb from the cold, and her arms gradually stopped feeling sore.She seemed to have adapted to the low temperature air, but her lips were a little pale.

At this juncture, the teacher ordered a 10-[-] minute break, which made Chen Jiao a little relieved. She went to get her coat, rolled herself up sloppily, and returned to lean on the sofa.

At this time, a girl came over, looking about sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing a thin white sweater, black hair hanging down to the neck, and natural air bangs.The eyes under the bangs are dark and bright, with a little bit of clear water, very cute and soft.

Chen Jiao was a little dazed, and watched her approaching her step by step with hesitation without blinking, and then her heart beat a little chaotically.

The girl held a water glass in one hand and an army green jacket in the other, a little cramped: "It's too cold. You should put this on first. Then, cover your hands."

She stuffed both things into Chen Jiao's arms, and then her hands were empty, and she timidly put her hands by her legs, as if she was orderly standing as a punishment.

Holding the cup tightly in his hand, the temperature of the hot water permeated the glass wall, then passed through the palm, and flowed to his chest.She felt a little strange, she was always told to take off her clothes, but never asked her to put on clothes.

Chen Jiao pretended to be meaningless: "Anyway, I will take it off later."

As if she was afraid that she would not accept it, the girl hurriedly said: "Warm it up, or you won't be able to bear it. There is still an hour."

Chen Jiao actually didn't want to refuse, she was indeed very cold, and she couldn't bear to let go of the warmth in her hand.

She smiled slightly, and the girl was relieved when she saw that she had accepted, and turned to leave.

"Hey --" Chen Jiao called her to stop.

The girl turned her head, with a hint of doubt in her eyes, immature and soft eyes.

Chen Jiao began to regret that she didn't take a closer look at those students just now, why she didn't see her earlier.

"My name is Chen Jiao." She said.

The girl curved her lips, bringing up the dimples on her cheeks: "Fang Qingwu."

Time never passes at a constant speed.For example, it is also an hour, and the second half of the class is obviously faster than the first half of the class.

Chen Jiao finally understood why she didn't see Fang Qingwu just now. She was sitting at the farthest edge by the window. She was probably the youngest among these people, and the easel could cover her short body.

When Chen Jiao looked over, Fang Qingwu was pinching a pencil and measuring carefully.A ray of light leaked from the gap in the curtains, barely falling on the back of her hand.

Noticing that Chen Jiao was also looking over, Fang Qingwu blinked and smiled sweetly at her.The raised corners of her lips were as if she had been smeared with honey. Just looking at it, Chen Jiao felt...very sweet.

Chen Jiao pursed her lips, the light hitting her face was hot.She suddenly felt that her topless appearance might be a little indecent, so she subconsciously folded her legs slightly.

"Don't move around." The teacher next to her reminded her.

Oh, she forgot, she has no right to be embarrassed.

Chen Jiao didn't move any more, she just raised her face quietly, and all the bright yellow lights fell on her face and chestnut hair, making her look a little peaceful, like a beautiful and timeless scene in a classical oil painting.

Fang Qingwu was very focused when he was painting, his delicate face poked out from behind the easel, his thin bangs swayed slightly, and his small brows were frowned seriously.

Chen Jiao looked at it, and felt as if she could see her own shadow reflected in those clear eyes, and her mind drifted a little wildly.

The author has something to say: Organized from Weibo