Literotic asexstories – Rebuilding Ch. 05 by HStoner,HStoner
Warning: there is some incest at the end of this story. Hopefully, it fits in the story. I also apologize for this being a relatively long story. It took more words than I had expected to bring Caitlyn, Amanda, and Peter to rest.
This story is a work of fiction. Real places and institutions are mentioned or implied, but they are used fictitiously here. As far as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those places or institutions has done anything akin to what is described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.
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In mid-May, Caitlyn got a call from Kate Berry. Although Caitlyn talked to Kate every few months, I hadn’t seen or talked to her since she and Caitlyn graduated. At Kate’s request, Caitlyn put her on speaker.
“Peter,” Kate said, “I asked Caitlyn to put me on speaker because I want to talk to both of you. I have something you two may find interesting.”
“My curiosity is piqued,” I replied with a chuckle.
“Ok,” Kate continued. “There is an agency here in New York that finds things I can make money doing between acting gigs. The things this agency gets me are short-term and, while not acting, usually involve an element of performance. Anyway, they called me about something which I thought the two of you would find interesting.”
“Ok,” Caitlyn said.
“At the end of the month,” Kate explained, “one of the major museums in the city is doing a ten-day special exhibition of erotic art, mostly by a woman artist who lives upstate. I really don’t know anything about the artist or her art. But the exhibition will be in a separate room in the museum. Access will be controlled and limited to people over eighteen. The artist wants, and the museum has agreed to hire, three docents, one man and two women, to work only this exhibition.”
“Kate,” I said, “how can we be docents? I don’t know a thing about art and Caitlyn’s art is music.”
“You don’t need to know anything about art,” Kate replied. “The artist will give the docents a couple of days’ training before the exhibition opens. Oh, and it pays $30 per hour. Add the two days of training and that’s almost three thousand dollars. Here is the reason I thought of you two: the docents are going to work completely nude. Eight hours a day in a museum in Manhattan, stark naked, answering questions from the clothed people who come to see the exhibition.”
I looked at Caitlyn. Her smile told me she was interested. I was too, although I thought whether it would be fun depended a lot on who they hired as the third docent.
“Kate,” I asked, “do you have any idea who they’ll hire as the third docent?”
After a moment’s silence, Kate answered, “I do know. If you two agree to do it, I’ll be the third. I haven’t been nude in public since we did that band gig in Michigan. I thought it might be fun and, well, I can use the money.”
“What does your boyfriend think?” Caitlyn asked.
“Trent took a job in Houston back in March,” Kate replied. “I’m not moving to Texas, so we broke up. I’m not seeing anyone now. That makes it a good time to show my bare ass in public. Maybe I’ll generate some interest.”
“Kate,” I asked, “you live in New York. Aren’t you afraid of someone you know coming to the exhibition?”
“It’s a huge city,” Kate replied, “and the people I know are either in shows or working three jobs to cover their rent. No one I know has the time to go to museums.”
Once Caitlyn and I agreed to be nude docents, Kate told us, “My apartment isn’t very big, but you probably want to stay with me. The cost of twelve nights at a Manhattan hotel will be off the charts.” We were fine with the idea of staying with Kate. Who cared if her apartment was small? The three of us were going to work together nude for ten days.
Caitlyn and I flew into LaGuardia and cabbed to Kate’s apartment the evening before we were supposed to meet with the artist. Kate’s apartment was small. It was in a marginal neighborhood, and we had to take the subway or a cab to the museum. I insisted on using cabs. Neither Caitlyn nor Kate argued. Kate’s apartment also had only one bed. Kate offered to let us use it, but that didn’t seem right. I slept that first night on my back on a lumpy sofa. Caitlyn slept on top of me.
We were met in the museum lobby by a very attractive brunette, probably in her early thirties, named Rachel Steinman. She was assistant director of special exhibits. She took us to the third floor of the museum. In what seemed like the rear of the building, there was a doorframe into another exhibition space with a rope across it and a “NO ENTRY” sign. On a wall past the rope was a large oil painting of a full-figured nude woman with a hand between her thighs. “That’s the tamest piece,” Rachel said.
Rachel let us into the space. Three empty folding chairs stood in the middle of the room. Facing them was a fourth chair. A tall, slender women with a weathered face and completely grey hair sat in it. Rachel introduced the woman to us as Alicia Wylde, the artist.
After introductions, Alicia stood and said, “I’ll teach you about the pieces in this exhibit.” Alicia’s manner of speaking was stern. I would learn that she always spoke that way regardless of her mood. I also learned later that Alicia had a hearing impairment which explained why she spoke in a loud voice. She was a little intimidating.
“This exhibit,” Alicia announced, “is about the beauty of the human body when it is sexually stimulated. We cannot have live sex as part of the exhibition. The museum also refused to allow the visitors to disrobe. The museum accepted my argument that the docents should also display the beauty of the human body by working nude. You understand that?” Kate, Caitlyn, and I nodded affirmatively. “Fine,” Alicia said. “You are working now. Why do you still have clothes on?”
Not expecting to have to strip off for our training, all three of us had come to the museum professionally dressed. Caitlyn wore a summer weight dress. Kate wore a pantsuit. I was wearing a sport coat and tie. The three of us took all of that off. I know Caitlyn and I felt better in the nude. Looking at Kate, she seemed to share that feeling. Rachel Steinman had watched us strip off but now excused herself to “get back to work.”
Looking over the three of us nude, Alicia came as close to a smile as I ever saw from her. “Ok?” she asked. We all nodded. “I prefer to be naked myself.” Alicia said. “I can only be creative when I’m naked. Since you will be working for ten days before the clothed visitors to the exhibition, I’m staying clothed to acclimate you.” Alicia then walked slowly around the three of us. Back in front of us, she said, “I did not specify that the docents be physically attractive. I should have. I’m glad someone else thought of that. The three of you will be the living artworks in the exhibition.”
The exhibition included paintings, sketches, photographs, and pieces of sculpture. For two days, Alicia taught us about each piece in incredible detail. Most of the work was Alicia’s. The rest was produced by her friends. Alicia explained the inspiration for each piece, how it fit in broader art history, how and when it was created, and who modeled for it.
The artists whose work was in the exhibition were also the models for most of the works, many of which were explicit. One piece I remember was a sculpture, roughly 30 inches high, of a woman who looked a lot like Alicia sucking the dick of a slender man. With some pride, Alicia said, “I spent about thirteen hours with the male model’s dick in my mouth to produce that piece.”
Caitlyn whispered, “maybe I should have gone to art school.”
I don’t think Alicia heard Caitlyn, but her next words were, “of course, we are always looking for new models. If any of you or, better, all of you are interested in posing for works like these, we would be thrilled to have you.”
We worked with Alicia the first night until Rachel Steinman told us the building was closing. As we started dressing, Kate said, “I’d forgotten how strange, and unpleasant, it feels to get dressed after you’ve been naked for several hours.” Caitlyn and I would have preferred not to get dressed, but you can’t walk around Manhattan or take cabs in the nude.
We went to a small restaurant about midway between the museum and her apartment. Kate knew the server from “innumerable auditions.”
After the server took our drink orders, Caitlyn asked Kate, “so, what do you think about this job so far?”
“I just remember thirty bucks an hour,” Kate said a little sarcastically. In a more sincere tone, she added, “I’d forgotten how nice it is to be naked around other people. I’m looking forward to people coming to the exhibition and seeing me naked. Is that perverted?”
“No,” I said.
“Peter and I feel the same way,” Caitlyn added.
We ate and talked about other things. I picked up the tab for all three of us. I sensed money was tight for Kate.
Arriving back at Kate’s apartment, we all realized we were exhausted. “We spent all day together naked,” Kate said. “We can share the bed. I know that sofa is lumpy as hell.”
“Peter and I sleep nude,” Caitlyn said. “Is that a problem for you?”
“I expected that,” Kate replied. “I usually sleep in a tee shirt and panties. I guess I can leave the panties off.”
The next morning at the museum, Rachel made the three of us get photo IDs, clothed. When mine came out of the machine, it had my name and photo along with the title “Exhibitionism Exhibition” and an expiration date in eleven days. We went up to the third floor, stripped naked, and spent another intense day with Alicia.
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