Nude - Jenlisa

Chapter 1

Maybe this was a bad idea, Jennie thought even as her finger pressed the button underneath the dull brass 701. The old fashioned ding-dong thudded against her ribcage. She held her breath as no immediate response came. She could still run away. She could be a block an a half away before -

Footsteps. They echoed on the other side. Hardwood.

She realized that her hand still hung in the air and withdrew it back to her side as the deadbolt slid back with a heavy click. The antique doorknob turned and the door swung open.

"Hi," Jennie said. The other words dropped from her tongue and landed on the porch without a word.

She hadn't been sure what she expected the art student to look like, but it wasn't the young woman she saw in the doorway. This "Lisa" was lean, tall, and had the most striking doe eyes she had ever seen. Long blonde hair fell over her shoulders and needed to lose about an inch.

"Hi," The tall woman said. She spoke with a kind smile, timid, slightly unsure.

Jennie cleared her throat. "I'm Jennie. We spoke on the phone?"

"Oh!" the latter's smile widened. Her teeth weren't completely straight and the front two were slightly too large, but it fit her uneven grin well. Handsome, Jennie might have said, if only to herself. "I should have known, I'm sorry. Uh, come in."

The woman stepped out of the way and she crossed the threshold into the small, rented house. Her chances to escape dwindled as the other girl closed the front door behind her. The main room smelled of turpentine and paint. Blank and half-painted canvases lay against the walls. Tubes of paint filled stained plastic crates. A half-eaten sandwich sat on a wooden stool.

"Did I interrupt?" Jennie asked.

"My bologna?" Lisa smiled. It was more of a smirk, but without any sort of pretension, timeless even. "Not at all. So uh, are you ready to begin? The light is perfect right now."

Her chest tightened. She could say no. "Sure."

The blonde scooped up the sandwich with one hand. "Are you thirsty? Hungry? I can make you a bologna sandwich."

Jennie smiled without realizing. The knot in her stomach relaxed, but quickly tightened again. "No thank you."

The latter nodded "Okay, I…uh, will leave you to it them. Just shout when you're ready."

She ducked into the kitchen, Jennie assumed from the glimpse of off-white tile, and left her alone. She sighed, forcing the air in and out slowly. She could still run. On the way, she had taken time to think over every possible escape plan and survival technique in the scenario that the mysterious artist turned out to be a creep. To her relief, there didn't seem to be anything of the sort about her. She had appeared as nervous about this as she was.

With the last of her prolonged sigh gone, she pulled her feet out of her boots. She worked methodically and kept her eyes on the swinging kitchen door. She unbuttoned her jeans, hesitated, and pushed them down her legs. Her underwear followed.

Why she had done it she would never be certain. A last attempt at freedom before the real world, perhaps. Maybe for the story to tell the girls on margarita night. Maybe because she could. When she had stood in the student's center coffee shop staring at the wanted ad for a nude model, something screamed in her head. Why not? She had ripped the slip of paper with the artist's number and called before her coffee was ready. Had she waited until after, she might not have done it.