I posed naked for an older woman artist who lived near me. I used to meet her when we walked our dogs. She invited me to her studio and while we drank coffee suggested drawing me. It didn't immediately click she meant nude. She asked me to come back next day. «Take your clothes off and stand beside the window,» she said. I hadn't expected this but thought I'd look foolish to refuse. So there I was, stark naked in front of a woman old enough to be my mom. She was all business; it was so natural that it was as if I wasn't naked at all. She produced a camera and walked round me clicking away, sometimes making a slight change with her hands to the way I stood. I was praying not to embarrass myself with a hard on. (I didn't, at least not that time.) When she'd done, she told me to dress and we had coffee again. This was before digital photography. She said to come back next day to view the developed prints. I liked them. I liked seeing myself nude and I liked having been nude for her. In fact, I liked it so much that I asked permission to be nude while we looked at the photos. «You have a very nice little cock,» she told me. I began to pose for her regularly to draw and paint as well as to photograph and I felt really good about. I've always thought of myself as a typically macho guy but I liked the feeling of submission I had when I was naked in front of her. When she asked me to touch myself, I did it although I didn't go so far as to masturbate. But I really liked it that I was nude and she remained fully clothed. One day, she showed me photos of some other male models, one of whom was an older guy, about her age, with a moustache and a very large erection. «I hope that doesn't embarrass you,» she said with a teasing smile. This was the first time there had been any sexual suggestiveness and she rightly guessed that my frown meant I was offended by the hint of homosexuality. She assured me coyly that the man, her exhusband, wasn't gay. I met him a couple of weeks later. In fact, he opened the front door. Of course, it was a set up. The artist was waiting in the studio and after the formal introductions nodded to the man who immediately took his clothes off. «I'd like you to pose together,» she told me. I felt I couldn't back out without looking stupid and stripped off. I'd been naked with guys before in locker rooms but this was different. The ex-husband might have been in his late 50s but he was in great shape and he shaved his pubes. He took his cock in his hand and got it hard right in front of us while the artist picked up her camera. She told us, or rather commanded us, to do some wrestling clinches. I was aware of her circling us and photographing while he grappled me close and clasped my naked body to his. I had a big erection as well by now. Suddenly, we were stretched together on the floor and he was kissing me. I resisted no more than a nanosecond before kissing him back, loving the soft wetness of his mouth. He reached for my cock and began masturbating me. I heard grunts of pleasure and realised it was me, then the bang of my orgasm and the jerk of cum spurting out of my body. It was only as I resurfaced from the pleasure of ejaculation that I realised the woman was still photographing us. I just lay there and let her.