'How do you want me?' Nina breathed as Miranda set up her easel.

'However you feel comfortable.' Miranda squeaked, her voice quiet and nervous.

'Like this?' Nina leaned over a stool in an awkward pose.

'If that works for you.' Miranda said, hesitantly. 'But...'

'Please, speak. You are the creator.'

'The pose is too unnatural. Be yourself. Here.' Miranda stepped from behind the easel and took Nina's arms, leading her to the couch. 'If you lie across the couch, it will accentuate your legs.'

'You like my legs?' Nina smiled as the artist blushed.

'Your legs are long, smooth and toned. They are perfect.' Miranda murmured as she subconsciously rested a hand on Nina's hip.

Nina's eyes burned into Miranda's. Embarrassed, the artist whipped her hand away.

'So, uh, sit down on the couch and I'll tell you which pose suits you the most.'

'Of course.' Nina said as she slowly untied the belt of her dressing gown. She shrugged the gown off her shoulders and the black silk pooled at her feet.

Miranda's breath was taken away. Nina clearly treated her body like a temple. Her breasts were small and pert, her waist slender with not a stretch mark or blemish to be found. She couldn't take her eyes off Nina's body, couldn't stop them from flicking down to her groin. Her pussy was completely shaven.

'Damn.' Miranda thought. 'She's in better condition than me.'

Nina sat down, gracefully swinging her legs onto the sofa. Miranda stood back, the better to see how the Frenchwoman would look on canvas.

'That's good.' The artist admired. 'But, raise your arm up to your head, rest your hand over the side of the couch.'

Nina obeyed.

'Now adjust your other arm. Use it as a prop for your breasts.'

'Like this?'

'Not quite.' Miranda knelt down and took Nina's wrist. She angled her arm in such a way that it kept her breasts from falling to one side. As she did so, her fingers accidentally grazed her subject's nipples. She could feel her own nipples harden beneath her bra.

'You are good at this.' Nina smiled.

'I'm making it up as I go along. Now, part your legs slightly. I want, I mean, Jacques would want to see just a hint of your...'

'My cunt?' Nina ventured naughtily.

'Yes. That.'

Nina parted her legs, revealing the full slit of her vagina. Miranda's mouth dried instantly at the sight.

'Not so much. It's better to tease, to make the imagination run wild, than to be explicit.' Unable to tear her eyes from the sight, she placed a hand on Nina's knee and slowly pushed her leg closed until just a hint of clitoris could be seen.

'Perfect.' She breathed as she tore her eyes from Nina's groin and gazed into her eyes.

There was something about the way Nina looked at her. Almost like a smug satisfaction that broke the spell the artist seemed to be under.

Miranda cleared her throat - back to business. She took up her pencil and began to trace the outline of her subject.