Chapter 2: Discovering the Dark Side

I’d known Jas most of my life, I guess. We met on a play date at a shopping center. Her mom was almost as weird as mine. I was glad I still had my grandfathers and could act pretty normally with them. Jas only had her mom. Still, we’d seldom been alone together for more than a little while. We’d slipped away from our group once or twice to do a little kissing, but as much as we—and all our friends—talked about sex and looked at each other online, neither of us was particularly experienced with the physical side of the human interaction.

So, when we got to the room, I busied myself with setting up my easel and looking at the lighting in the room. I pulled the drapes, but I let a crack remain so a thin band of light fell across the bed. That was pretty cool. I could just see how it would hit her when she stretched out. I pulled the comforter off the bed, but just pulled the top sheet back. I thought it would be cool to have the sheet partially draped over her. I turned around and Jasmine was still standing there, just inside the door with all her clothes on and her little bag clutched in front of her. I don’t know. I guess I just assumed she’d get undressed while I was getting things ready.

“Jasmine? Are you okay?”

“I’ve never done this, Jett. I’m nervous.”

“You don’t really have to do anything. It’s not like you’ll be online and teasing your pussy while we both come. All you have to do is lie in one position for a while,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean. I’ve never undressed with a boy in the room. Or anyone else. I’ve never been naked with someone.”

I hadn’t thought about that. I was completely comfortable stripping off my clothes and even putting my webcam between my legs so she could see me come when she was showing me her pussy. But I’d never been naked in the actual same room with someone, either. Suddenly, I was embarrassed.

“God, Jas! I never even thought about it being different. I just thought you’d undress and we’d start working. I ... I never thought about how I’d feel if it was me. I’m so sorry.” I was afraid this was all a bad idea and I should just pack up my stuff again. There was a sparkle in Jasmine’s eye and I went to her slowly and wiped away the tear that escaped before it could get to her cheek. “We don’t have to do this. It was a dumb idea,” I finished lamely. She held out her arms.

“Hug?” I walked into her arms and held her tightly against me. “It’s okay. I promised to do this. I’m just a little nervous.”

“I won’t make you do it, Jasmine. I just never thought about how I’d feel if I were you. I mean, we do it all the time online, but this is different.”

“I’ll do it. Online it’s different. I know you’re looking at me, but I never really see you. I mean, I see your penie, and I know you’re looking at my snootch, but we don’t really look at each other. And there’s always a goal, you know? In ten minutes, we’ll both pop and shut off the computer. But here, I’m going to be naked in front of you and you’re going to look at me... Me! For like four hours. I’m just nervous about that. Actually, I’m terrified.”

“I guess I kind of have to look at you if I’m going to paint you. Do you...”

“Just don’t watch me while I get undressed, okay? Like, go in the bathroom and I’ll call you when I’m posed. Would that be all right?”

“Of course. If you’re sure. Jasmine ... God! They beat this stuff into us for the past eighteen years. I won’t do anything to you. I won’t try to make you do something. Anything. I’ll ... I’ll just go into the bathroom until you say you’re ready.” I gave her a quick squeeze and ran to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door. As if she was going to come in and look at me! Fap! What a disaster.

I pissed and washed my hands and then just sat there. It seemed like it took her forever. And the more I thought about it, the worse it got. I was going to be in the same room with a naked girl! What kind of an idiot was I? What made me think that I could just look at a naked model and paint her? What if the painting sucked? What if it didn’t look anything like her? What if I just stick my head in the toilet and drown myself?

“Jett? You can come out now. I guess I’m ready.”

I opened the door cautiously and went straight to my easel without looking at the bed. I squeezed my eyes tightly until I started to see little shooting stars behind my eyelids. I finally took a deep breath and turned to her. She was lying in the bed with the sheet pulled up to her chin. It wasn’t that she wasn’t cute, but ... Well, maybe it was better this way. I’d just paint the picture of the shape of her body under the sheet. I guess I was looking puzzled and hadn’t said anything.

Jasmine took a deep breath and just kicked the sheet off her. She lay back like a dead person with her legs spread. I could see that even as nervous as we both were, Jasmine’s bare pussy was pretty shiny.

“Um ... I ... Uh ... Maybe you could roll to your side? No. The other side,” I said as she moved.

“I can’t ... um ... open my legs in this position.”

“Jasmine, I’m not going to paint a picture of just your pussy. God! That would be a whole subject by itself. This is a figure painting. I’m going to spend as much time on painting your face as your breasts. I think. I mean...”

“I’m such a dope! I don’t have any idea what I’m doing!”

“Neither do I,” I said. We looked at each other and both started laughing.

“Okay. Well, that’s comforting. Just tell me what position you want me in, okay?” she said. “For the painting!”

My eyes popped open and we busted out laughing again.

“Let’s ... have you scoot up in the bed a little and prop a couple pillows behind you so you aren’t down flat.”

“Um ... Help me put the pillows where you want them. You want me sitting all the way up? So my boobs aren’t squashed flat?”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that. I was just trying to make you look comfortable.”

“I was kidding. I think. Just show me what the artist wants.”

“Okay. Let’s put these two up behind you so you can recline gracefully. Then put this one in front of you to rest your hand on. You can even hold your iPhone if you want to surf,” I said.

“That would be nice. I don’t want to talk to anyone, though. I’m afraid of what I might say. It would be nice to look at their Snaps and Instagrams, though, since I can’t really do anything else.”

“I might ask you to look up for a few minutes while I do your face,” I said. “But first, now that you are on your side, bring your left knee up a little.”

“You won’t even see my snootch!”

“I’ll see your butt.”

“Oh! Is it ... you know...”

“It’s beautiful. Um ... Can you hold your phone in your right hand?”

“Of course.”

“Here. Take this corner of the sheet and tug it toward you a little. Right there! Stop!” I reached over and tugged another part of the sheet down so I could see the arc of her butt and the streak of daylight falling across her. Wow! “That’s beautiful. Can you hold that position?”

“I’m pretty comfortable. Except for having you stare at me.”

“Jasmine, I have to look at you in order to paint you.”

“I know. I’m still ... Why didn’t you have Kelly do this?” she asked abruptly. I was already sitting at my easel and sketching in the gentle curves. She really was beautiful.

“Oh. Well, I did a sketch of her. From one of the photos she sent me. But ... I don’t know how to say this without it sounding racist.”

“You don’t like the Irish?”

“Haha! That’s funny.” I drew the outline of Jasmine’s breast, just above her left elbow. “She’s so pale. I didn’t want to run out of white paint. I mean, your skin is so beautiful and the color is so rich. I just thought it would be nicer to paint.”

“Wow! That is kind of racist,” she laughed. “Um ... Do you really like the color of my skin?”

“Yes, really.”

“Guys and girls have both told me they like my pussy and my boobs. One even said he liked my butt. You said you liked my eyes that one night we were kissing, but when we got home and Skyped, we weren’t looking at our eyes. I don’t think anyone has ever told me they like the color of my skin,” she said.

“It’s part of the racist stuff we’re taught not to say,” I said. “Lift your face toward me for a couple minutes, please?” She tilted her face up at me and I started drawing the eyes she mentioned I liked. I still did. “Mr. Williams made us do that exercise in seventh grade where he’d show a photo of a group of people and then ask us to tell him about the third one from the left, or something, and we couldn’t mention their color or nationality. We could say, ‘The tall dark-haired one with her arm around the short guy next to her, but we couldn’t say ‘The black girl,’ even if she was the only dark-skinned girl in the picture. We had to talk about the ‘short girl with the black hair and straight bangs’ without talking about the ‘Asian’ girl. It was a real pain, but I guess it got us thinking about other characteristics than skin color.”

“Yeah. The problem is that you can’t recognize skin color then,” Jasmine said. “I like the color of my skin. I like yours, too.”

I’d laid in my rough sketch and started mixing paints on my palette. Talking about the color of her skin made me realize that it wasn’t just one color. There were places where it seemed much lighter and where the streak of light fell, it had spots that looked almost white. I wondered if I painted Kelly if I could see those differences in skin tone from one part of her body to another and if the variation was as great as on Jasmine.

“Um ... Jett?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you usually paint ... um ... in, like, your underwear?”

“Yeah. Mom hates it if I have paint on my clothes.”

“So, why aren’t you in just your jockeys now?”

“Oh ... uh ... well, I thought you’d be more comfortable...”

“I think I’d be more comfortable if I saw you like I do online when you’re painting.”

“Okay.” Now I was embarrassed. I know I blushed a thousand shades of red while I stripped off my jeans and T-shirt. Jasmine giggled. “What?”

“It looks silly with your socks on.”