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Foolish April

By: Seanathon



This short story is an entry for the 2015 Literotica April Fools' Day story contest.

All characters involved in sexual situations in this story are eighteen years of age or older.

* * * *

She took one last sip of coffee, grabbed her lunch bag and picked up the thick stack of papers she'd worked all night on. But as she hurried to leave, she noticed the calendar on the kitchen wall still said March. She shifted her lunch to her other hand, the same one securing the papers under her arm, and took a deep breath as she changed the month to April. 

As if on cue, raindrops started to patter against the window. She stared in disbelief at the shower that had appeared out of nowhere, and then felt the stack squeezed against her side start to slip. She frantically tried to stop it but was too late and seconds later all of her work and the contents of her broken lunch bag, which had also fallen, were scattered across the kitchen floor.

And as April stared at the gray day awaiting her, she caught her reflection in the window. "Happy birthday," she said, to the small sad face staring back at her. "Happy fucking birthday."

She swore again as she knelt and picked up the papers as fast as she could. She ignored the broken remains of her lunch; there was no time to try to save it or make another. She couldn't be late today.

Carrying the papers in a haphazard heap, she hurried to the front door. And when she opened it she saw the shower had turned into an outright downpour. April wasn't surprised. Birthdays had never been nice to her.

She always heard people complain about having their birthday on Christmas or Halloween -- try being born on April Fools' Day. Her parents were the first to get in on the fun, naming her April. She hated the name, a constant reminder of the month and day she'd been unfortunate enough to have been born on. 

And then there were the birthday parties. When you're born on the first of April, kids feel almost obligated to play a prank with your present. She still had nightmares of unwrapping them, wondering what kind of cruel gift was hidden inside.

But as she hurried toward her car, the papers hidden under her coat as she desperately tried to keep them dry, she knew nature had given her the cruelest birthday present of all.

She opened the door, placed the papers on the passenger seat, climbed onto her custom cushion, pulled her seatbelt across and put the key in the ignition. And as she turned it and heard the engine catch she reached her tiny feet down toward the metal extenders that allowed her to reach the pedals on the floor.

April was a midget. At least, that's what the kids at school had called her. The teachers had told them they weren't allowed to use that word and said the proper term for people like her was little person, but that just made the M word stick that much harder.

She honestly didn't care what they called her; she hated both terms equally. Sure, she was the shortest person in her class, if not the entire school, but she never understood why they had to come up with a special name for her. Why couldn't she just be a girl?

By the time she pulled into the office parking lot, the rain had mercifully stopped. April mumbled a thank you for small miracles, and then swore when she checked her hair in the mirror. The rain had ruined a morning's worth of work. 

Dark clouds still filled the sky far above her, menacingly rolling back and forth as if waiting for her to step outside so they could soak her again. She cursed at them as she hurriedly tried to straighten out the tangled mess, but it was no use. She growled in frustration as she shook her head, whipping her wet brown hair back and forth until her small shoulders slumped in resignation. 

"Why worry about it?" she thought. "When you're not even four feet tall the last thing people are going to be looking at is your hair."

April grabbed the papers, climbed down from the custom cushion that allowed her to see over the steering wheel and closed the car door. And as she hurried toward the entrance of the graphic design firm she worked for, dodging every puddle that appeared in her path, she threw one last glare at the clouds as if daring them to try to soak her again.

She looked up as she neared the front door and winced when she saw tall, blonde Rebecca waiting for her on the other side. She pulled the door open and as April hurried through, finally safe from the raindrops that had started to fall again, she prayed no one knew it was her birthday.

"Hey, there's my little princess," Rebecca said. "I was starting to get worried. You're late."

April glanced at her watch: two minutes to eight. She didn't say anything. She knew better than to argue with Rebecca.

"Oh, look at your hair," she said. "It's a mess. Here, let me fix it."

April flinched as Rebecca towered over her, tugging and fussing at her hair like she was a toy doll. When she was done she smoothed her hands across April's head and smiled.

"There you go, much better. We need to make sure everything's perfect for your big day."

April stiffened, suddenly worried that she'd somehow discovered it was her birthday. "What do you mean? What's so big about today?"

Rebecca arched an eyebrow. "You didn't forget that I'm taking you in the meeting with me today, did you?"

April exhaled, sighing in relief. Her secret was safe. "No, I didn't forget, and I made sure to get everything you need for the meeting finished. I was up working on them until two in the morning."

"Good," Rebecca said, without bothering to take or even look at the stack of papers April was holding out toward her. "I can always count on you, my favorite little girl. And that's why I want you with me in the meeting today when they make me the lead artist on this project. I want you to be my letterer."

April blinked in surprise. "Me? I'm just a proofreader. I'm not an artist."

Rebecca smiled as she smoothed a loose lock of April's hair back into place. "Don't worry about that, lettering doesn't take any talent." 

"Umm...I'm not sure that's true."

"Of course it is, and that's why I know you'll be perfect for it."

Before April could respond, Rebecca continued: "We all know how important it is that this firm wins the bid to illustrate this project; this could be one of the biggest children's books of the year. And when we make our proposal and the client sees we're letting someone like you work on it, we're sure to be a shoo-in. Maybe they'll even want to use you in the marketing campaign. I bet the kids would love you."

April stared up at her, speechless. Then Rebecca patted her on the head, and said, "The meeting is in half an hour, try not to be late again." She turned, strutting away with a self-satisfied smile on her face as her high heels clicked against the tiled floor, echoing down the hallway as she disappeared through a door.

* * *

A half hour later April was behind Rebecca as they headed toward the conference room. Every one of her steps was twice the size of April's, who felt a twinge of envy as she hurried to keep up.

Rebecca's flawless, impossibly long legs seemed to be the same height as April at times, and the high heels and dangerously short skirts she always wore only added to the illusion. April grimaced as an image of herself in the same attire crossed her thoughts. 

Rebecca strutted into the conference room and smiled as she sat in the seat that Ryan, the new assistant art director, pulled out for her. April headed to the far side of the table where there was only one seat left right beside Zander, the creative director and president of the firm.

"April," he said, watching as she seated herself, "I'm so glad you're joining us today. We can always use a fresh pair of eyes."

April smiled weakly. She'd never been in one of these meetings before, never realized how cavernous the conference room seemed compared to her own cramped cubicle. Seated opposite her on either side of Rebecca were Susan, another of the firm's graphic artists, and Ryan.

He'd only been at the firm a few weeks, replacing the last assistant art director who had suddenly and unexpectedly quit. April wasn't sure if Ryan had noticed her since he'd started -- she normally did everything she could to keep people from noticing her -- but she'd sure noticed him.

He was young, tall and so good looking. April couldn't help noticing his flawless smile, his short, styled dirty-blonde hair or the way his tailored button-down shirt fit his lean frame perfectly. She also couldn't help noticing Rebecca's arm beneath the table, her hand caressing the inside of his thigh as she leaned close and whispered in his ear.

His lips curved into a smile as he listened, and when his eyes flicked toward April she knew they were talking about her. She looked away, twisting the cap of her pen back and forth and wishing she could just sink beneath the table and disappear, anything to stop him from staring at her. She'd spent her whole life trying not to be noticed, and now was no exception.

But no one needed to worry about being noticed as long as Rebecca was in the room. Without even waiting for Zander to start the meeting she stood up, launching into her vision of their proposal as she proudly spread her preliminary artwork and layouts across the table for everyone to admire.

She was already starting on her plans for the marketing campaign when Zander held up his hand to stop her. "Hold on a second, Rebecca. I think you're getting ahead of yourself. We haven't even finalized the proposal we want to take to our client, let alone the artwork we'll be using."

She stared at him, taken aback. "What the hell are you talking about? This is the artwork we're using."

Zander rolled his eyes. "Rebecca, I've already told you -- "

"No," she said, her voice rising as she cut him off, "this is bullshit! I've worked my ass off on these, and there's no one else in this firm with a tenth of the talent that I have. So if you think I'm going to let anyone else -- "

"Rebecca, please," he said, holding his hand up to try to shut her up. "No one said we won't be using your art for the proposal, but the whole point of having this meeting is to make sure we're all in agreement before we do. You've done your job now, please, let me do mine."

She fell back into her seat and crossed her arms, glaring at him as he tilted his glasses lower and studied the preliminary artwork spread across the table. Susan was the next to look at it and April shrunk deeper into her chair when she noticed the glower on Rebecca's face, her eyes like smoldering coals as they scorched the table, daring every person who checked her work to say even one word of criticism. Ryan was the last to look at it, and he gave it only a brief glance before passing it back.

"It looks good," he said, with Susan nodding in agreement. "It looks really good."

"Well, now that we're all in agreement," Rebecca said with a smug grin as she went to gather up her artwork, "I'd like to -- "

"Hold on," Zander said, interrupting her again. "We haven't heard from April yet."

"April?" Rebecca said with a barely disguised laugh. "She's only a proofreader."

"She's also part of this meeting and, like I said, we can always use a fresh pair of eyes."

April had tried to slide even lower into her seat as soon as her name had been mentioned but now, with Zander pushing the preliminary artwork in front of her, she was forced to sit up. She tried to ignore Rebecca, knowing her eyes were burning into her as she stared at each piece. She spread them across the table in front of her, looking at them as a series. She knew what she should have said. She should have said it looks good, it looks really good.

But the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I think the color scheme's wrong."

"Thank you," Rebecca said icily, and April flinched as she jerked the pages away from in front of her. "We all appreciate your honest, even if completely ignorant, opinion."

"One second," Zander said, stopping Rebecca as she tried to put her artwork away. "I think April's right. I didn't even see it at first, but there is something wrong with the color scheme."

Rebecca laughed. "Are you fucking kidding me? There are four people in this room with art degrees and we're supposed to listen to the only person who doesn't have one?!"

"It was you who insisted she be included in this meeting," Zander said. "Why even invite her if you don't want her opinion?"

"Because I need a letterer that knows how to fucking spell! I'm sure no one has forgotten how well our proposal for our client's last book about the shy spoon and his best friend the happy little bowel was received?" 

Susan crossed her arms and grumbled, "How many times do you have to keep bringing that up? How was I supposed to know that bowl isn't spelled with an e?" 

"You see?" Rebecca said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "That's why I need April. And I hope the firm appreciates the sacrifice I'm making, working with someone like her just to make sure we land this project." 

On the other side of the table April had shrunk down in her seat again, nearly disappearing underneath the table in an attempt to avoid Rebecca's glare as Zander tried to calm her down. 

He said, "Rebecca, just listen to me for -- "

"No," she shouted, "you listen to me. I busted my ass to get this done and everyone in this meeting agrees that it's some of the best work they've ever seen. I'm an award-winning artist, and I refuse to sit here and have my work criticized by you and this little -- "

"Rebecca!" he shouted, slamming his palm against the table to shut her up. "I'm the creative director and the owner of this firm, and I'm telling you the color scheme's wrong. And I'm not even sure that's the only thing. I want new artwork by Friday. And if you don't want to do it I'll find an artist who does. Understood?"

She hesitated a moment, her eyes seething with anger, and then gave him the briefest nod before snatching her artwork off the table and storming out of the room.

April, who had sunk so low in her chair she may as well have been underneath it, was also about to leave when she heard her name.

"April," Zander said, "I wanted to apologize for Rebecca's theatrics. I know she gets carried away at times. And I also wanted to let you know I appreciate your offer to try your hand at lettering, but are you sure you're up to it?

"I mean, it isn't that I doubt your ability. I know you're one of the people here I can always count on. It's just that I don't want to see you getting overworked. Someone said you've been taking work home with you?"

April nodded. "I have been, but it's okay. I don't mind. I like the extra work and, if you'll let me try lettering, it would be nice to have something to do other than proofreading all day."

"Of course," Zander said, "and your comment on Rebecca's color scheme was spot on. Frankly, I'm impressed."

She couldn't help smiling, feeling like she was floating a foot off the floor as she left the room and went back to her desk. She was halfway there when a hand snatched her arm and pulled her back down to earth.

"We need to talk," Rebecca said, as she dragged her into an unoccupied office and closed the door. 

April went to fumble an apology but Rebecca stopped her.

"No, cupcake," she said, as she ran her fingers through April's hair. "I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you. I should have never brought you into that meeting, should have never forced you to have to watch that idiot attack my work."

Rebecca shook her head. "I don't know what's gotten into Zander, but he's had it out for me ever since Mark left, like he blames me for the fact that his assistant art director decided to quit. He's jealous of my work, and I think we both know who he wants to take over this project."

April hesitated, not sure if she was supposed to answer.

"That's right," Rebecca said, "Janelle -- that little slut Janelle. Do you even know how many promotions she's had in the last year? And I bet there's a bump on the back of her head for every single one."

April blinked in confusion. "Bumps?"

"Yeah, bumps, from spending all day beneath Zander's desk with his tiny dick in her mouth, trying to steal all of my projects away from me."

She took April's hands and squeezed them hard. "You saw how good my art was, right?"

April knew better than to do anything but nod.

Rebecca continued: "And don't worry, I'm not mad at you. I know you don't know anything about art or color schemes. You were just trying to say something so you wouldn't look stupid after he put you on the spot. I just wish you could have been smarter and kept your mouth shut. Can't you see how he's going to use that against me now so he can take this project away from me and give it to Janelle?"

April smiled weakly and pulled her hands away. "I'm sorry, but I should really get back to work. I've got a lot of pages to proofread."

As she opened the door, Rebecca strode past her and glanced down the hallway toward the lunch room. "That can wait, let's get a coffee first."

"But I don't drink -- "

"Come on," Rebecca said, nearly pulling her off her feet as she grabbed her sleeve and dragged her down the hallway. And as they walked through the door the shout from inside the lunch room made April jump nearly three feet off the floor.

"Surprise!" the room full of people screamed.

April stiffened, watching in stunned silence as her co-workers gathered around the candle-covered cake on the table and sang Happy Birthday to her. When they were done, and after everyone had taken the opportunity to congratulate her, Rebecca brought her a piece of cake.

April stared at it in dismay. Of course it was chocolate; she hated chocolate. "How did they know it was my birthday?" 

"I told them," Rebecca said, as she picked a piece of lint from April's sweater. "I was looking through some of the personnel folders a few weeks ago and noticed today was your birthday."

"Umm...aren't those supposed to be confidential?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Please, you sound just like Denise. You should have seen what a bitch she was when she found me in her office, acting like all of her files were top secret. But come on, who wouldn't want everyone to know it was their birthday?"

April forced a smile as she put down the uneaten cake. "I really better get back to work. I do have a lot to get done."

She turned to leave but Rebecca grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Leaning down, she whispered, "By the way, cupcake, don't think I've forgotten."

April flinched. "Pardon me?"

And then Rebecca smiled like a cat with a mouse under its claw. "Don't think I've forgotten your present. You won't get it until later, but I've got a big surprise planned for you."

April winced. She hated surprises. "I don't need a present. The cake was more than enough."

"Nonsense, I've got something special picked out for you. And when you see it," she said, as her lips curved into a cruel smile, "you're never going to forget it."

* * *

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully and as the clock neared four April hoped that Rebecca had forgotten about her present. But when she heard the tell-tale click of those high heels coming toward her cubicle she also heard her hopes come crashing down. 

Rebecca looked around, making sure she couldn't be overheard. "It's time for your big surprise, shortstuff. Let's go."

"I -- I really shouldn't," April said. "I've got to finish this work and then I -- "

"Nonsense," Rebecca said, as she lifted her off her chair like she was a child. "Our little birthday girl is going to get just what she deserves."

She strode down the hall and kept a tight grip on April's hand, pulling her after her as she struggled to keep up. Soon, they were at the door to the art storage room.


Foolish April



April stared at the door, afraid of what might be waiting for her on the other side. "Why are we going in there?"

Rebecca gave her a sly grin. "Because this is where your present is and, believe me, you're definitely going to want to open this one in private."

She opened the door and led her down the row of racks until they were nearly at the end. She stopped at the second to last row and turned to stare down it. "Happy birthday, princess."

April glanced down the hall and was surprised to see the new assistant art director, Ryan, standing at the end. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. He gave her a smile. 

"Why is he here?" she said, swallowing nervously as she took a step backward.

Rebecca grabbed her sleeve and pulled her forward. "He's here to give you your birthday present."

April blinked in surprise. "What do you mean? I told you, I don't want a present."

"Oh, you're going to want this one. Every girl in the office wants this one."

She let go of April and strutted toward Ryan, purring as she pressed herself against his side. The corner of her mouth curled into a leer as she slid her hand down past his waist, her fingers rubbing the thick outline trapped against his leg and showing through his pants. "Ooh, such a...mmm...big present."

April's eyes went wide. It was definitely big -- very, very big. But when she glanced up and saw the smirk on Ryan's face as he watched her she turned away, burning with embarrassment.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Rebecca said, grabbing her by her sweater.

April struggled to pull away from her and, trying not to look at Ryan or his crotch, whispered, "I don't want that kind of present."

"Are you kidding me?" Rebecca said. "Any normal girl would want what's in his pants. Consider yourself lucky he's even agreed to give it to someone like you." 

April turned a deeper shade of red, even more embarrassed than before.

"Unless you're trying to tell me there's something wrong with you. Maybe you need one more your size?"

April yanked her arm away. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Good. Then I'll leave the two of you alone so you can spend some time...umm...playing with your present."

She headed back down the hallway, the sound of her high heels fading away as the door to the art storage room closed behind her. April, bewildered by the unexpected turn of events, glanced back at Ryan who was still leaning against the wall, watching her.

It seemed like the only sound in the hallway was her heart hammering in her chest, but then Ryan uncrossed his arms, put them behind his back, and broke the silence.

"Go ahead," he whispered. "There's no one here but you and me. Pull it out."

April couldn't help herself as her eyes immediately went to the thick outline in his pants. He was watching her, waiting for her. Rebecca was right; every girl in the office did have their eye on Ryan. And that's all April wanted to be, just one of the girls. Besides, she could only imagine what Rebecca would tell everyone if she chickened out.

Her memory flashed back to another birthday party, her best friend's. They were only twelve years old. Her friend's older brother had gone in the closet and every girl had taken a turn spending two minutes alone in there with him. But when it was April's turn, with all of the other girls laughing as they pushed her toward the door, she panicked. She cried out and when her friend's mother realized what they were up to everyone was sent home. The party was over. And, as it turned out, so was the friendship. 

She learned later that nothing had happened in the closet. Every single girl had simply talked to her friend's brother, nervously waiting for their two minutes to be over. Only one had been brave enough to even kiss him. But that hadn't stopped them from teasing April, taunting her and singling her out for ridicule for years after.

She took a deep breath and stepped toward Ryan who was still watching her patiently, an inviting smile on his face. Her heart pounded as she reached out and pulled on his belt, her eyes locked on the swollen outline inches from her tiny fingers as she undid the thick leather strap. As his belt came open she reached for the button on his pants, afraid to make eye contact as she undid it and went to pull his zipper down.

And then a scream from behind her nearly scared her right out of her skin.

"April Fools!"

She spun around, terrified, and saw Rebecca. She was barefoot and carrying her high heels in her hand so she couldn't be heard. Behind her, three other girls from the office were laughing uncontrollably. Ryan was laughing too, and gave her an apologetic smile as he did his pants back up.

Rebecca pulled her heels back on, still howling with laughter as she hurried toward her. 

"April," she said with a look of mock astonishment, "I am absolutely shocked! I mean, I knew you were fun-sized but I never knew you were such a little horndog. Why were you so anxious to get in Ryan's pants? Don't tell me you thought that was your present?"

As April stared at the two of them, bewildered, Rebecca smiled and slid her hand into Ryan's pocket. "This is your birthday present," she said, and pulled out the thick purple highlighter that had been showing through his pants. "I thought it might help you catch up on your proofreading but, you know, you can use it however you want. My guess is it's just your size."

The other girls howled with laughter again, and were still laughing as April pushed past them and ran back to her desk, more embarrassed than ever. She didn't grab the proofs she'd already put aside to work on at home. She just grabbed her coat and keys and headed for the front door.

She was nearly through it when Rebecca intercepted her. "Hey, you're not mad are you, cupcake? It's April Fools' Day. I didn't want you to feel left out."

April forced a smile and tried not to make eye contact, afraid that she'd burst into tears. "Yeah, no problem, you guys got me. That was a good one. It's just that I have to get home, my parents are throwing this big party for me."

"Oh, isn't that sweet. Make sure to show everyone what you got for your birthday." She smiled as she pressed the giant purple marker into April's small hand.

She stared down at it as Rebecca headed back into the office, accompanied by a chorus of snickers and muffled laughter as one of the girls reached out and high fived her. As if on cue the clouds, which had been waiting for April all day, opened up and rain came pouring down.

This time she didn't run. She walked slowly, her coat under her arm, letting the shower soak her to her skin. Halfway to her car she let the marker fall from her hand and didn't watch as it rolled, carried by the water toward the gutter. And when she finally opened the door and climbed onto the custom cushion on the driver's seat her face was so streaked with raindrops that her tears were almost unnoticeable. She put the key in the ignition but didn't turn it; she just clenched the steering wheel and kicked as hard as she could at the metal extenders that allowed her tiny feet to reach the pedals on the floor.

* * *

The timer rang and April hurried to the oven to pull dinner out. She was carrying it back to the dining room table when a knock at the door startled her. 

Putting the hot dinner down on the placemat, she pulled off her oven mitts and went to see who it was. There was an unfamiliar silhouette in the glass sidelight beside the door and she was stunned when she opened it and saw Ryan standing there.

She winced as the painful memories from the hallway came flooding back. She checked behind him, almost expecting to see Rebecca hiding in the bushes, and fought the urge to slam the door in his face.

As if he'd read her mind, he held out his hand to stop her. "April, please," he said, a look of genuine concern on his face, "just let me talk."

Still fighting the urge, her knuckles white on the door handle, she said, "How did you know where I live?!"

"Denise told me."

April felt her blood pressure rising. "I think someone needs to remind Denise that personal information is supposed to be confidential."

"Yeah, believe me, she didn't want to tell me," he said. "She's still furious about finding Rebecca going through her files. But when I explained to her why I needed to apologize to you -- "

"You don't need to apologize to me."

"Yes I do. I should have never agreed to be part of that prank. I know it's no excuse, but...I'm still new at the firm and trying to fit in. I thought this would help. Rebecca said the girls play this prank every April Fools' Day. She said you'd think it was hilarious."

April wasn't smiling. "I didn't think it was hilarious."

"Yeah," he said, nervously sweeping his fingers back through his hair, "believe me, I could tell. I was actually hoping to get a chance to apologize to you at the bar. Rebecca said everyone was going out for drinks after work and I just assumed, with it being your birthday and all, you'd be there."

April glanced behind her where her dinner was waiting on the table. "I wasn't invited and I, umm, already had other plans."

"Yeah, that's what Rebecca said, something about your parents throwing you a big party?"

He glanced over her shoulder at the empty house behind her and she quickly closed the door halfway, blocking his view. "You could have just apologized tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to make sure I apologized before, umm, before you saw Zander."

April's eyes narrowed as she realized why he was on her doorstep. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone what happened."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much. I really want to keep this job, and I'd hate to think that -- "

April held up her hand to stop him. "I understand. Apology accepted. Now, I should really be getting back to my dinner. Goodbye."

She went to shut the door but he stopped her. "Wait, you're eating dinner all alone?"

She hesitated, trying to think up a lie, but she knew it was obvious there was no one else with her. "Umm...yeah."

"Well that's not right. No one should be alone on their birthday. Let me take you out and buy you dinner instead."

April blinked in surprise at the unexpected invitation. "I've already made dinner."

"I know, but...I have to do something to make up for what happened today."

"You already apologized."

"Please, I could buy you a hundred dinners and it wouldn't be enough. I know I embarrassed you today. That prank was way over the line. I was stupid to let myself get dragged into it and I want to make it up to you. Come on...let me take you out for your birthday."

April hesitated, and then quickly shook her head. "Honestly, I'm fine. This is how I like to spend my birthday. And I really need to go before my dinner gets cold."

"Are you sure?" he said, still trying to see past her.

April closed the door a little more and nodded.

Ryan said, "Okay, umm, I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

She forced a smile and shut the door. He seemed sincere, but she knew the invitation also seemed too good to be true. And she started to wonder if Rebecca was behind it, wondered if this was part two of her prank.

April wouldn't fall for it again. She'd already learned her lesson earlier today. She should have never left the house. She should have called in sick and stayed home like she did every year. It was only because of the meeting that she'd mustered the courage to go in and it had backfired on her, just like it always did.

But once the clock had struck twelve she'd thought she was safe. Didn't Rebecca know it was bad luck to pull a prank after noon on April Fools' Day?

She sat down at the dining room table where her dinner was waiting. She gingerly touched the corners of the plastic tray, making sure it wasn't too hot, and then peeled back the corner until the cover pulled free. A blanket of steam broke loose from inside and curled upward as April stared at her birthday dinner: Salisbury steak, instant mashed potatoes, peas and some kind of dessert.

She poked it with her fork, not sure what was hiding beneath the strange-looking crust. And then there was another knock at the door. 

She put her fork down and went to open it. She was surprised to see Ryan was back, a bottle of wine in his hand. 

"Hey," he said, "sorry to keep bugging you, but it just didn't seem right letting you spend your birthday all alone. And then I remembered I still had this wine in my trunk from a cousin's wedding a couple of weeks ago. Assuming you still don't want to go to dinner, maybe we could at least have a glass of wine together to celebrate your birthday?"

April stared past him, still thinking Rebecca must be hiding in the bushes.

Ryan glanced back too, wondering what she was looking at. "I wasn't sure what you were having for dinner, but I'm hoping red goes with it. Can I come in?"

She hesitated, still unsure. But she had a feeling he wasn't going anywhere unless she agreed. "Fine, but only one drink, and then you have to leave." 

He nodded in agreement, grinning as he followed her inside and waiting while she went to the kitchen. She knew there was only one wine glass in the cupboard; one was all she'd ever needed. So she knelt down and reached back behind the pots and pans until she found the cardboard box the glass had come in. There were three others inside it and she quickly unwrapped one, rinsed it and hurried back to the living room with both glasses and a corkscrew. 

Ryan was standing beside the table staring at her meal with a screwed-up face.

"Umm, what the hell is this? It looks disgusting."

April blushed with embarrassment. "It's a Hungry-Guy frozen dinner."

"You're having a TV Dinner for your birthday?"

"Yeah, I like them. They actually taste a lot better than they look. The secret is to do them in the oven instead of the microwave. I have more. Do you want me to make you one?"

"Oh god...no, I'll stick to wine thanks."

April waited in her chair as he poured them both a glass. She was used to eating alone, but she felt a little uncomfortable being the only one eating. She pushed the untouched meal away, too embarrassed to admit that the frozen dinners were her guilty pleasure; whenever she felt sad they always made her feel better. She had a freezer filled with them.

He handed her a glass of wine and she took it with both hands, holding it close as she savored its bouquet. But as Ryan leaned close and touched his glass to hers, she caught a whiff of his own boozy bouquet.

"Wow," she said, waving her hand back and forth in front of her face. "How much did you drink at the bar?"

"Probably too much," he said, putting his wine down after barely taking a sip. "It took a few doubles before I was able to work up the nerve to come over here."

"And you drove?"

"I know. I shouldn't have. I'll take a cab home, I promise. But I'm thinking now maybe the wine wasn't such a good idea, either."

"Wait here," April said, and ran back to the kitchen. She soon returned with a glass filled with ice water.

"Thanks," Ryan said, as he took it. "Your parents have an amazing house." 

"Oh, this isn't my parents' house. It's mine."

Ryan nearly spit out his drink. "This place is yours? It's huge. How much do proofreaders get paid?!"

April laughed. "I didn't buy it, my parents did. But one day they went on a round the world cruise and never came back. So now it's mine."

"Oh, shit. You don't mean they..."

She laughed again and took another sip of her wine. "Don't worry, they're still alive. The ship didn't sink. They just found a place they liked near the coast of Spain and decided to buy a house and stay there. I'm flying over next month to spend a couple weeks with them. We'll celebrate my birthday then."

"And they just gave you this house? They must be loaded."

"Yeah, they kind of are." She pointed at a photo on a side table. "This is them."

"Your parents, they're both..."

"Normal-sized? Yeah, I'm the one who got the short straw."

He winced and she laughed at his reaction. "Don't worry, short jokes don't bother me. I've lived my whole life this way. I'm pretty used to it now."

"But, honestly, you don't even look like..."

"A midget?"

He winced again. "I thought we were supposed to call you little people?"

She rolled her eyes. "I hate when people call me that, it sounds like I'm a leprechaun. Technically, I'm a dwarf. Anyone under four foot ten is."

"But still, you don't look like one...you know...a dwarf. I mean, of course you're short, but..."

April smiled patiently. She'd been explaining her size her entire life. "It's called pseudoachondroplasia, and I was born with it."

As Ryan struggled to pronounce it, she continued: "It's a different disorder than the dwarfs you're probably thinking of, they have what's called disproportionate dwarfism with disproportionate heads and limbs. I have what's known as proportionate dwarfism; everything I have is in proportion, just smaller."

She could almost feel his eyes on her, studying her like she was on display. She was used to it. She couldn't go anywhere without everyone staring at her as if she'd wandered away from a circus. She took a deeper sip of her wine and turned away.

"I used to let it bother me. I used to get angry and bitter and think, 'Why me?' But now that I'm older I've grown to accept it."

She glanced up and saw him searching for the right words to say. She knew whenever her height came up the conversation always went short. She was about to change the subject when he did it for her.

"Oh, wow, whose are these?!" He stepped past her into a hallway, where an array of artwork covered nearly every inch of the walls.

"They're mine."

He stared in awe at the varied collection of charcoal sketches, pen and ink drawings, watercolors and oils. "Where did you find them?"

She blinked in surprise. "Find them? I didn't buy them. When I said they're mine, I meant they're mine."

He stared at her, dumbfounded, and then he noticed the small stylized A in the corner of every piece. "You mean...you made these?"

She gave him a tiny nod and took another sip of wine.

He bounced from work to work, spending mere moments on one before being pulled to the next. A look on his face as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. But his astonishment at the treasure trove that lined the walls was nothing compared to the surprise that awaited him at the end of the corridor. And as his jaw dropped the glass of water nearly slipped from his hand. 

At the end was a huge studio, loaded with trays and racks, tables and easels and all kinds of art supplies. Half-finished works leaned against every wall. He stared at them in disbelief. "Why are you only working as a proofreader when you can do this? You're an artist." 

"No I'm not," April said, shaking her head. "I never finished art school."

He did a double take. "Are you kidding me? Finishing art school is hardly a requirement for being an artist. Look at these...they're amazing!"

"Thanks, but I just did them for fun. I know I don't have half the talent or training you or Rebecca have."

"Talent? Are you kidding me? And training -- you can't train this," he said, as he went from piece to piece in awe. "Your line work, your brush work...they're amazing, and so many different techniques. I can see now how you spotted the flaw in her color scheme when none of the rest of us did."

"I just made a lucky guess."

"No," he said, as he approached a large gouache on canvas, "you have an eye for art. I can see it in everything you've done. Like this piece, it's stunning."

He stared at the large work before him, detailing the interior of a small beach house on a bright summer day. There was a girl stretched out on the couch, her face turned away from them, asleep or falling asleep as her long arm lazily stretched toward the book she'd abandoned on the floor beside her. She was dressed in a light summer dress which had ridden high on the bare thighs of her impossibly long legs, and her sun-kissed hair was the exact same shade as April's. 




Foolish April



And then he noticed more and more drawings and paintings of the same girl, tall and thin, her face always turned away. He turned toward April. "Is this supposed to be you?"

Her eyes went wide and she took a bigger gulp of wine, draining the glass. "No, of course not, it's just a girl."

"Then why don't you ever show her face."

"Because I suck at drawing faces. Like I said, I never finished art school. And feet, I can't draw feet."

Ryan took one last lingering look at the large canvas, so vibrant that he felt he could step through it like a window, feeling the warmth of the summer breeze as he imagined the softness of the girl's shoulder. And then he turned away from it, shaking his head as he went to look at some of her other pieces.

Nearby, he spotted a thick cardboard folder tucked under a table and went to pull it out.

"Wait, not that one!" April cried.

But it was too late. An assortment of slick, glossy pages spilled out from the folder and scattered across the floor. April hurried to pick them up as Ryan knelt to help.

"It's okay, I've got them," she said, covering them up with her hands as she tried to hide the photos.

But he'd already seen them, page after page of young, good-looking male models. Every one of them completely naked, their muscular bodies perfectly cut, every single inch on full display. 

Ryan fought back a smile. "I don't even want to know what magazines you cut these out of."

April burned with embarrassment as she snatched them up as quickly as she could. "I just use them as models for my sketches, that's all."

Ryan opened the folder and sifted through dozens of half-finished charcoal sketches inside, all of them male nudes. "They're good."

"No, they're not," she said, "the proportions are all off. I tried to get them right, but it's impossible when you're working from a photo. It was a lot easier at art school. We had real nude models and the stuff I did there was way better."

"Oh yeah? Can I see those?"

She shook her head as she stuffed the last of the photos back into the folder and shoved it back under the table. "I left everything behind when I quit."

"Quit? Why did you quit?"

"It just...it just wasn't for me."

"Well, you don't have to go to art school. There are night classes at the local college."

She shook her head. 

"But I saw your sketches, with just a little more practice -- "

"Please, Ryan, stop. I'm not going back to school. I don't want people staring at my art and I don't want people staring at me."

She walked toward the large canvas and lightly touched her finger to the edge as she stared at the girl on the couch. "Other than my parents, you're the only other person who has ever seen my art. And it isn't because I'm embarrassed by it, it's because I do it for me...no one else. And if some of my drawings aren't perfect that's fine, because neither am I."

"April -- "

"Thanks for the wine," she said. "It was nice. I'll call you that taxi now." 

He shook his head. "No, not yet. I know how I'm going to make it up to you, make up for what happened today." And then he started to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

She took a step back. "What are you doing?!"

"I want you to be able to draw, but not from a picture in a magazine," he said, as he pulled his shirt and tie off. "I want you to be able to draw like back when you were in art school. I'll model for you."

April's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as he reached for his pants. Quickly turning her back, she said, "Stop that! You're drunk."

"I'm not. I mean...well, yeah, maybe just a little bit. But that's not why I'm doing this. I'm doing it because I want to make right what happened between us today. And if I have to get naked to do it, I will."

She cautiously glanced over her shoulder and her eyes went even wider when she realized he was naked. Quickly looking away again, she hissed, "Put your clothes back on!"

"No, not until you sketch me. Just one sketch."

"I -- I can't. I don't have the right materials."

"Are you kidding me? This place is like an art store."

She nervously licked her lips, wishing she had more wine, and glanced over her shoulder to see where he was.

He had his back to her, heading toward a couch on the far side of the room. "How about here?" he said, and as he turned back toward her she quickly looked away.

"I haven't drawn using a nude model in so long. I won't be any good."

"What does that matter? Like you said, it's just for you. How about this? Is this okay?"

April slowly turned around, afraid of what she was about to see. But she sighed in relief when she saw him lying sideways on the couch, his knee raised and tastefully blocking the view between his legs.

"Is this okay?" he repeated.

"Sure, that's fine just, please, don't move."

She went toward her easel and felt light-headed as she pulled it into position. She hoped it was from the wine but suspected it might have something to do with the gorgeous man lying naked fifteen feet in front of her.

She secured a fresh sheet of paper to the easel and picked up her box of charcoals. Sifting through the pencils, she couldn't help glancing at Ryan. His lean, well-muscled torso made it seem like he'd stepped from the pages of one of her magazines. And when he glanced up at her she quickly looked down and kept sorting through the sticks and pencils.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Putting the box aside, she said, "Just one sketch, and then you promise you'll get dressed and go home?"

He grinned. "I promise."

April licked her lips and touched the charcoal stick to the paper, tracing light circles across the page as her eyes flicked between it and the couch. This wasn't the first time she'd sketched Ryan. She'd already sketched him a dozen times in her imagination in the three weeks since he'd joined the company.

But none of them had ever looked like this. And as her hand came alive, darting back and forth, shooting dark trails and thick lines across the paper, she felt it rising inside her, the same excitement that filled her every time she created art. But this time it was even more intense, and she knew the reason why.

Ryan was sprawled across the couch, trying to keep still as he watched her. "How's it coming?"

"Good," she said, barely breaking stride as she switched sticks on the fly.

The new charcoal scratched across the page as her gaze slid across Ryan's flesh, etching it in her mind as she captured it on paper. But she winced when she reached his feet. The leg with the knee in the air was fine, but the other leg was on its side so his foot was toward her. She hated drawing feet.

"Can you move your leg?" she said. The words were barely out of her mouth when she realized her mistake.

Ryan didn't argue. He just did as asked, lowering the leg closest to her as he stretched it toward the floor. Now, he was truly naked in front of her.

April ducked behind the easel and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about what she'd just seen. She'd meant for him to move his other leg, and now she was too embarrassed to correct herself.

"Is everything okay?" Ryan asked.

"Yes," she squeaked, still hidden behind her drawing. She grabbed her eraser from her box and quickly removed the outline of his raised leg. And then she peeked out from behind the easel, holding her charcoal stick tighter than ever.

Ryan was fidgeting on the couch as he tried to stay comfortable and had unintentionally changed the position of his arms. But at this point, April didn't even know he had arms. All of her attention was on the thick length draped across his thigh.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, wondering why it suddenly seemed so hot in her studio, and accidentally smeared charcoal across her brow. But she was oblivious to it as she turned back to her page, her hand whipping back and forth again as she sketched her subject on the couch.

Her eyes flicked back and forth as Ryan kept fidgeting.

"Don't move," she said, as she switched sticks again.

Ryan tried to do as she said, sprawled on the couch, watching her as her eyes watched him, her hand seeming to move of its own volition across the page.

And then her eyes went wide. "You're moving," she said.

"I'm not. I'm perfectly still."

"No, I mean...you're moving."

He glanced down and flushed with embarrassment when he realized what she meant, quickly covering his suddenly stiffening cock with both hands. And April also looked away, obviously just as embarrassed.

"Sorry," Ryan said as he lifted his leg back up, trying to hide his obvious erection.

She didn't know what to say as she kept her eyes on her easel, the memory of what she'd seen earlier erased as an even bolder image was etched onto her imagination.

"I was just sitting here thinking 'don't get a hard-on' and I think that's what made it happen," Ryan said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension. "I always wondered how those guys could stand naked in front of all those cute college girls and not get a boner. I guess maybe I'm not cut out to be a nude model."

April still had her head hidden behind the easel, trying not to think about what she'd just seen. Trying to make conversation, she mumbled, "A girl at my school said the models are told to masturbate at least twice before coming to the classroom."

"Yeah, I can see how that would definitely help."

"Oh, umm, if you need to...you know...take care of it, there's a bathroom down the hall."

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. "What? No! I'm not going to jerk off in your house. That's way too creepy. Just give me a minute. I'm sure it'll go down."

April nodded and waited a few minutes, pretending to sort her charcoal sticks to pass the time. Finally, Ryan took a deep breath and lowered his leg. He wasn't as erect as he had been but his half-hard cock still hung heavily between his legs, though now in a different position.

April took her eraser to the page. And then she started to draw again, using long bold strokes as her eyes zeroed in on her subject. And then her eyes went wide and her hand froze on the page.

"Fuck, sorry," Ryan said, as he tried to hide his cock which was now standing straight up again.

"Why does it keep getting so stiff?" she asked.

He looked at her in surprise. "Umm, you don't really need me to explain to you how this works do you?"

She blushed with embarrassment. "No, I just meant...wait here a minute."

April left and returned a moment later with a white towel. "Maybe if you just cover it until it goes down."

She threw it at him from a few feet away, scared to come any closer, and he was barely able to keep his cock covered with one hand as he caught the towel with the other. And then he held it up and looked at the tiny washcloth she'd thrown him. "Umm, I think I'm going to need something a little bigger than this."

April turned an even deeper shade of red, mainly because she couldn't help noticing how erect he was. From barely three feet away it seemed bigger than ever, and even using both of his hands he was barely able to hide the thick length.

As she hurried back to the washroom she thought about all the photos she'd cut out of the magazines. She didn't remember any of those boys having one the size of Ryan's. A moment later she ran back with the biggest towel she could find and held it out to him. 

He took it as she kept her eyes turned away and wrapped it around his waist. When he told her it was okay to turn back around she couldn't help noticing how his stiff length was still tenting the soft cotton fabric. He lay back on the couch and she returned to her easel and her eraser.

She hurried through the rest of the sketch, obviously distracted, and when she finished he stood to take a look. His feet and face were unfinished, but the lines and musculature of his body were flawless. The only real imperfection was his groin, little more than a dark smudge.

"Fuck, sorry," he said, "I'm a bad model."

"No, you were great," April said, smiling at her drawing. "It was only meant to be a rough sketch. I love it. And it was nice working with a live model again. Thank you, and don't worry about what happened today. I know Rebecca was behind it. You and I, we're good."

He smiled. "Thanks, that makes me feel better. I guess I should get dressed and get going?"

"Okay. Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"Naw, I'm good. Trust me, posing naked is incredibly sobering."

A half hour later he was gone and April was back in her studio, back in front of her drawing. She reached into her box and pulled out a new eraser, carefully erasing the dark smudge until there was only white. And then she touched her charcoal stick to the page, and sketched from memory.

* * *

The next day April was barely back at her desk when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and smiled when she saw it was Ryan.

He said, "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

He pulled up a chair, but before he could get another word out of his mouth the tell-tale click click click of Rebecca's heels came around the corner.

"Hey, hot stuff," she said, as she draped her arm around his shoulder and pressed herself against his side. "Where did you disappear to last night? You snuck out before we could get the real party started."

He twisted, trying to create a little more space between them. "I just went home. That club wasn't really my scene."

"You should have said something," she purred. "We could have gone back to my place and found out if that was a little more to your liking."

"Rebecca, please, not now," he said, as he tried to peel her arm away from his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry," she said, as if noticing April for the first time. "Am I interrupting something?"

Without waiting for either one of them to answer she twisted around and sat down, planting her ass right on Ryan's crotch as she tightened her grip around his neck.

"Rebecca! Let me go," he said, fighting to break free of her stranglehold as he tried to push her away. But she held on even tighter, her eyes flashing triumphantly as she rode him like it was the office rodeo.

"April!" she said, squealing with delight as Ryan kept struggling and unintentionally bouncing her up and down on his lap. "Are you wearing lip gloss?"

As her cheeks turned bright red, Rebecca laughed. "Uh oh, I think our little princess has got a crush on you, hot stuff. It must have been that big purple marker you gave her. Ooh, it feels like you've got another one in your pocket," she said, as she swiveled her ass against his crotch. "Maybe you want to meet me in the art storage closet and give it to me during lunch?"

He stood up and nearly dumped her on the floor. Only her death grip on his tie saved her. As he pulled her hands away and tried to loosen and straighten it, he growled, "Rebecca, how many times do I have to ask you to stop?!"

"Don't worry," she said, her eyes flashing with amusement. "April isn't going to tell on us, are you my little princess?" She touched her finger to the corner of April's mouth and flicked it, smearing her lip gloss across her cheek.

As she strutted away, her heels announcing her departure, April covered her mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry about that," Ryan said.

"Don't worry. I've worked with her a lot longer than you have. I'm used to her."

"Well, I'm not."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

He took a deep breath. "I was just wondering if...umm...if you were going to be home tonight? I've been thinking about what happened last night and the way my, you know what, screwed it up. I feel like I still owe you a sketch."

Just the mention of it sent her memory racing back to the night before. She'd kept working on the drawing for hours after he'd left, finally falling asleep in front of it on the couch at two in the morning, finally satisfied and completely spent. "No, the one from last night was perfect."

"What are you talking about? You couldn't even finish it properly because of my, uh, problem," he said, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. "But you don't need to worry; I took care of it as soon as I got home last night. And I'll make sure to take care of it again before I come over tonight." 

April flushed with embarrassment as an image of him "taking care of it" flashed through her imagination.

"You did say the girl in your class told you the models were supposed to masturbate twice before they posed, right?"

"Umm, I think she meant it as a joke."

Now it was Ryan's turn to blush, and April couldn't help smiling. She said, "Seeing as how you've already gone to all that trouble...you know, taking care of it...I guess the least I can do is sketch you one more time. Seven?"

Ryan, still embarrassed, nodded. "Sure. Seven it is."

Eight hours later she was in her car, ready to head home. And then she spotted Ryan walking across the parking lot and wondered if she should ask him to dinner first. No frozen dinners, a real one. She was about to open her door when she heard the telltale sound of Rebecca's heels, hurrying to catch up to him.

Neither of them had noticed April as she crouched down in her car and watched them talk, with Rebecca's hand curled around his arm and her fingers against his chest as she pressed her long, bare leg against his. She kept talking, tossing her long blond hair back as she laughed, and Ryan smiled and nodded in agreement. And then he opened the door of his car, surveying the parking lot to make sure no one was watching as Rebecca climbed into the passenger side and folded her long legs inside as he closed the door for her. 

And as April watched the two of them drive away she kicked at the metal extensions that allowed her tiny legs to reach the pedals, hammering her feet against them as if she wished she could drive them right through the floor.

* * *

She scratched her fork back and forth, breaking the last few pieces of burned apple crumble from the bottom of the TV dinner tray. And as the metal tines scratched lines in the plastic she sketched lines in her head, an image of a brown-haired girl with impossibly long legs unfolding in her imagination.

A knock at the door woke April from her reverie. She glanced at the clock and realized it was seven. She pushed the dinner tray aside and headed to the door, where Ryan was waiting with another bottle of wine.

"You shouldn't have bothered," she said.

He smiled. "It's not for you, it's for me."

She shook her head. "I don't mean the wine. I mean you shouldn't have bothered coming over here tonight. I told you, we're even."

"I know, but I wanted to. I actually kind of enjoyed modeling for you last night -- artistically, I mean. It was fun being on the other side of the easel for a change, watching you, seeing the creative process. I think it might even help me become a better art director."

"Really. Wouldn't you rather model for Rebecca?"

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, turning away.

"No, wait," he said, as he stepped inside the doorway. "Why would you say that? Why would you think I'd ever want to model for Rebecca?"

"I saw you after work. I saw the two of you leaving together."

"Yeah, because she asked me for a ride to her car; she had to get her snow tires removed. Is there a problem, April?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just...I see the way she touches you all the time."

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, she's definitely touchy."

"Then why don't you say something? Why don't you tell her to stop?"

"I -- I try to, but it's just...look, I have a feeling neither of us wants to talk about Rebecca. Should I bother opening this wine? Or do you want me to go?"

April hesitated a moment, and then carefully took the bottle from his hand. "I'll get a corkscrew."




Foolish April



Ten minutes later they were in her studio. She was still sipping her first glass of wine while he was already on his second. He noticed the fresh sheet of paper on the easel, and said, "Where's the sketch from last night?"

"Gone," she lied. "I threw it out."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess you were right, it wasn't very good. And I really didn't think you'd want anyone from work seeing it and recognizing you."

He arched an eyebrow as he started to unbutton his shirt. "You drew me without a head, there's only one person I work with who'd see that sketch and know it was me."

"Rebecca?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, April, you -- you're the only person I work with who knows what I look like without any clothes on."

Blushing with embarrassment, she turned away and started sorting through her box of charcoal sticks and pencils. But not before noticing as he unbuttoned his pants that he wasn't wearing any boxers. She didn't watch as he pushed his pants down and tried not to think about what was waiting between his legs, but she couldn't help wondering if he'd remembered to take care of it a second time as promised. 

She sat in front of her easel and started to sketch a rough outline. On the couch, Ryan's position had changed from the night before. Instead of being turned sideways, he was now turned toward her with one leg bent in front of him and the other leg stretched to the side.

April knew the position would make it harder to draw his feet -- she hated drawing feet -- but that was the least of her problems. She was finding it nearly impossible to concentrate on the sketch as she kept sneaking peeks between his legs.

She gently bit her lower lip as she sketched an image in her mind of his hand wrapped around his cock, making himself come. And she wondered if he'd thought about her or Rebecca. But then an image of her own naked body flashed through her mind, and she grimaced as she scrawled her charcoal back and forth across the page, ruining it.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked.

"It's wrong...so wrong," she said, and went to tear the page away.

"Wait, let me see." 

He got up from the couch and moved beside her, his hand on the easel as he studied the rough outline taking shape on the page. "I don't see what's wrong with it. Why did you ruin it?" 

"Because of the feet," she lied. "I can never get the feet right."

But she wasn't thinking about his feet as he stood so close she could smell the body wash he'd used when he'd showered before coming over. She was thinking about the thick half-hard length hanging inches from her thigh. She shifted on her stool, moving a little away from him.

And for the first time he realized how near he was, how naked he was. He covered himself with his hand. "Sorry, does it bother you? Me standing close to you like this?"

She shook her head, suddenly light-headed, and smiled up at him, trying to keep her eyes on his face, trying to look anywhere but at his crotch.

He gave her a warm smile back. "Good. It's important for an artist to feel comfortable with their model."

Pointing at the drawing, he said, "I think it's the position I'm in." And then he put his hand on her back as he explained how the soles of his feet were turned toward her, and that maybe it would be better if he lay sideways like the night before so his feet were away from her. 

April nodded, but she hadn't heard a word he'd said. All she could think about was the feel of his large hand against her small back. The touch of his fingertips was electric. And in her mind's eye she pictured his hand and arm behind her, every muscle and tendon sculpted in marble, like David come to life.

He moved away from her, sliding his hand down her back as he let go, and the absence of his touch broke the spell. She blinked, now even more light-headed than before, and absent-mindedly sorted through her pencils and charcoals, trying to regain her composure as she watched him from the corner of her eye. He went back to the couch, draped a blanket he found across it, and sat sideways so that one leg was aimed at the armrest and the other was hanging off the side of the couch with his foot flat on the floor. The pose gave her an unrestricted view of every inch of his anatomy. 

April licked her lips and put a fresh sheet of paper on her easel. She sketched a rough outline again, working fast, one eye on the easel and one eye on her subject. By the time she reached his feet she knew this position would make them easier to draw. The foot on the floor gave her no problem at all, but she was still struggling with the one on the couch. And then she had an idea. 

She hopped down from her seat and hurried toward him. "Don't move! If you do I'll have to start all over."

Ryan obeyed her and didn't move an inch. And when she reached him she turned her head, so she wouldn't be staring directly at his crotch. "I just want to touch you -- I mean, your foot! I just want to touch your foot."

He smiled. "It's okay. You can touch me."

She blushed. "It just helps me with the visualization if I can touch my subject, feel its size, its shape." She sat on the couch between his legs, her back to him, and leaned forward as she curled her tiny fingers around his instep.

He twitched at her touch.

"Don't move."

"I can't help it. You're tickling me."

"Sorry," April said, trying not to smile as she touched his foot again, tenderly tracing the fingers of her left hand from his toes down across the ball of his foot, and then along his instep and arch toward the heel. And then she traced the same path with her other hand while her left caressed his calf, feeling the powerful muscle alongside her.

"You have really big feet, but they're beautiful," she said.

"I don't think anyone has ever called my feet beautiful before."

"They are. Mine are small and ugly. Yours are so long and graceful, like a dancer's." 

He laughed. "You don't want to see me dance."

She laughed too and glanced back as she smiled at him, momentarily forgetting that he was completely naked. But when she saw the stiff length standing completely erect right behind her she quickly turned back around, her eyes wide.

"Sorry," Ryan said. "It's just...the way you were touching my feet."

April didn't answer. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget what she'd just seen, but it didn't help. All she could think about was the thick length inches away from her and the way it swayed back and forth, aching to be touched. 

Ryan reached out and lightly pressed his fingers against her back. "Hey, are you okay?" 

She nodded.

He caressed her back with his hand, slid it up to her shoulder. And then he whispered, "You can touch it too, if you want. You know...to help you visualize it."

She stiffened as soon as he said it and he instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Fuck! Sorry, I don't know why I said that." He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch down, trying to cover his crotch, and went to get up.

April squeezed his leg and stopped him. "Don't...please."

He waited with her still sitting between his legs, his cock hidden beneath the blanket. And when she turned around her eyes lingered on his still obvious erection before glancing up at him.

'I'm sorry if I'm not as...good at this as other girls might be," she said. "But you're going to have to believe me when I tell you I'm not used to having naked men in my studio. In fact, I'm not used to men at all.

"When I was a girl, going to school, I did everything I could to avoid boys. The girls were nice enough, but the boys always went out of their way to make fun of me. When I turned eighteen and went to art school I thought it would be different. I thought artists would be different.

"And they were...at first. The girls were friendly and did everything they could to help me and most of the boys did too. For the first time in my life I felt like people were looking at me like I was a person, not a freak. 

"There was one boy who was extra nice. He always made sure to be my partner in class, and I remember how he teased me the first time we had a nude male model and he saw how embarrassed I was.

"After class, he apologized and told me how he wanted to make it up to me, wanted me to come over to his apartment. He said he thought he had an idea of how to make me more comfortable around naked men.

"I should have known what was coming. We sat on his couch and he took off his pants and made me play with his...thing. And I -- I liked it. I liked him. We did it and, obviously, it was the first time for me. It was nothing special, but it was special to me.

"I can still remember waiting for the bus the next morning. It was May and I don't think I'd ever seen a sky so blue. And then a girl from my class sat beside me.

"She felt bad telling me, but figured I should know. Apparently, there'd been a bet between some of the boys in our class. Her brother had told her about it. The bet was to see who could be the first to cross a midget off their fuck-it list. And the boy I'd slept with had been more than happy to text every boy in the class the minute I left to let them know he'd won.

"I never caught that bus. I never went back. That's why I don't have my art degree and why this is so...hard for me."

"April, I'm so sorry...about everything. I shouldn't have pushed you like I did." He tightened his grip on the blanket and went to stand up.

"Wait, I don't want you to go." She stopped him and made him sit back down. "I want to draw you. I want...this."

She took a deep breath and slid her hand under the blanket, her heart pounding in her chest as her fingers touched the inside of his bare thigh.

Ryan didn't say a word as he watched her. He just licked his dry lips and opened his legs as she slid her hand higher.

Her fingers grazed against his flesh and he slowly exhaled as she traced his length. Her story had been like an ice-cold bucket of water, extinguishing the heat that had consumed him moments earlier. But now, as she circled her palm against his smooth skin, the fire awakened.

He stiffened and she curled her fingers around him, slowly stroking his thick shaft as he grew harder. April glanced up and saw he was watching her, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as she touched him beneath the blanket. She pulled it back and both of them stared at her small hand, wrapped tightly around his swollen length.

"You were supposed to take care of this before you came over," she whispered.

"Sorry."

"I can't draw you like this...do you want me to take care of it?"

He didn't need to answer. The look in his eyes said it all.

April nervously bit her lower lip as she wrapped both of her hands around his swollen pole and slowly started to stroke him. She couldn't get her fingers completely around him, but that had nothing to do with her size; he was so thick she doubted many women could.

She pumped her hands up and down, gently twisting them back and forth, letting her thumb caress his knob on every upstroke. She'd only done this once before, but Ryan's sighs and soft moans let her know she was doing just fine.

She licked her lips as she pumped him even faster, squeezing his stiff length even tighter. And as her small but eager hands pushed him closer to the edge her artist's eye couldn't help noticing every curve, every line of his body. 

Her gaze drifted up from the masterpiece wrapped between her fingers to his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of his flat stomach before sliding across his strong, muscular chest. His arm was lying across the back of the couch and she traced it with her eyes down to his hand where his fingers were clenching and unclenching as she jerked him off.

April twisted around to stare at his feet, watching as his toes started to curl. And then he let out a low groan and she turned back just in time. She felt it as it shot out, felt it forcing its way past her fingers as it spurted forth from his swollen tip and landed heavily on his stomach. She squeezed him even tighter, stroking him faster as more and more kept squirting out.

He groaned and squeezed her shoulder, holding onto her as she pumped the last few drops from his fat length. And then he collapsed against the couch completely spent, his body limp as he lay there with his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath.

April's eyes went wide with excitement. "Don't move -- this is perfect!"

Ryan couldn't move if he tried. He was numb with pleasure, his body sprawled across the couch and his exhausted cock sprawled across his thigh. He watched, fascinated, as April went to work. Her eyes were alive as they darted between him and her easel, her hand wildly whipping back and forth across the paper as if it had a mind of its own, sweeping in circles and shooting back and forth, thick charcoal lines in its wake.

Minutes later she was finished, and her arm dropped limply to her side as the charcoal stick fell from her palm to the floor. Now, she was completely spent; her chest heaving with emotion as she eyed her creation.

Ryan leapt up from the couch and hurried to her side, both of them oblivious to the fact that he was standing beside her completely naked as both of them stared at her sketch.

"It's amazing," he said, as his eye traced her bold but precise lines.

"I think it's the best thing I've ever done."

"Will you finish it?"

She shook her head. "It is finished."

And when he looked at it again he knew she was right. To the untrained eye the work was little more than a rough outline, but to Ryan, who'd been there, the drawing captured the rawness, the intimacy, the spontaneity of everything that had just happened between them. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"Congratulations," he said, and laid his hand on her back.

She'd been lost in her work and his touch seemed to pull her back to reality. She turned toward him and as her eyes fell across the thick length hanging inches from her she seemed to realize for the first time how naked he really was.

April pulled away from him, blushing as she bent down to pick up the vine charcoal stick from the floor. "Thanks for posing for me," she said. "It's late. You better get going."

Without waiting for his reply, she headed back down the art-filled hallway to her living room. She was waiting by the front door when Ryan came out from the studio, his clothes back on and his folded coat in his hand.

She opened the front door. "Thanks for coming over and...umm...everything else."

He knelt down on one knee, so he was the same height as her, and lifted her chin with his hand as he tilted her lips toward his. "No, thank you."

The kiss was soft, tender but brief. And it made April feel like her feet were floating a foot above the floor. When he broke it her eyes fluttered open, and she slowly drifted back to earth as he went to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he said.

She smiled. "Yes, definitely."

He disappeared down the walk into the night and she closed the door, went back to the couch and poured the last of the wine into her glass. And as she lifted it with both hands and tipped it toward her mouth she savored the taste, letting the flavor linger on her tongue like his kiss lingered on her lips.

She closed her eyes, intoxicated by the memory of him lying on the couch, naked before her. She could still see every curve, every line, and a warmth came over her as she sketched him again, etching him eternally onto her heart.

* * *

April walked into the office still smiling from the night before. She'd seen Ryan's car in the parking lot and had half-expected to find him waiting in her cubicle. But her smile faded when she saw who was waiting there instead.

Rebecca was sitting at her desk, going through the drawers as if they were her own.

April said, "Umm...good morning. Can I help you find something?"

Rebecca glanced up at her, unsmiling. "I was just looking for a post-it so I could leave you a note. But now that you're here I can just tell you. You're not needed in the meeting today."

April blinked in surprise. "What? Why not?"

"Because I've decided against letting you letter this project. Susan's a shitty speller, but at least she has some talent."

Before April could respond Rebecca stood and strode past her, nearly knocking her back into the filing cabinet. The clatter of her heels echoed off the walls like gunshots as she stormed away, obviously angry. 

April stared at her desk bewildered; every drawer was open and the work she'd completed for Rebecca earlier in the week had been dumped in the wastebasket. As she bent to retrieve it, wondering if Rebecca was still mad because of her comment on her color scheme, she heard footsteps behind her.

Her smile returned when she saw it was Ryan.

"Morning, April. I just wanted to remind you that the project meeting's in fifteen minutes."

"But...Rebecca said for me not to go to it. She said I wasn't needed?"

"Yeah, well, Rebecca doesn't really have a lot of say in the matter. I'm the assistant art director and I say you are needed. See you there."

Fifteen minutes later, April walked into the conference room with a pad of paper under her arm and a pen in her hand. She took her seat as Rebecca glared at her from across the table. She half-expected her to order her to leave, but she stayed silent as the rest of the participants joined the meeting.

Susan took the seat beside Rebecca while Ryan sat beside April. Zander, the creative director, took his place at the head of the table.

"Okay, Rebecca," he said, "let's see the new layouts."

Still glaring at April, she slid her portfolio across the table.

Zander opened it and stared at the colored drawings inside, baffled. "These are exact same layouts from the other day. Why didn't you redo them like you were told to?"

"Because there's nothing wrong with them; the color scheme is perfect. And I refuse to compromise my work based on the opinion of the one person in this company who has absolutely zero artistic ability."

Zander rolled his eyes. "Rebecca -- "

"No!" she said, leaping to her feet. "I'm not finished. I know there are people here who are jealous of my art, jealous of my talent. But there is no way I'm going to let him or his little pet -- "

"Rebecca!" Zander shouted, slamming his hand against the table to get her attention. "I'm the one who told you to redo your work, and with a master's degree in art I assume you feel I'm qualified to question it. The color scheme is wrong and so is the entire proposal. You will redo it."

"I won't," Rebecca said, crossing her arms. "And anyways, the deadline for this project is less than three days away. There isn't enough time."

Zander's face turned purple with anger. "There would have been enough time if you'd followed my instructions!" 

Ryan glanced at April as he stood up. "Can I make a suggestion, Zander?"

"Please."

"I suggest we completely pull Rebecca from this project."

"What the fuck?!" she cried out. "You see? You see how he's got it out for me, how he wants to tear me down?"

Ryan ignored her. "I suggest we pull Rebecca from this project," he continued, "and have another member of our staff finish the initial layouts before our client arrives."

Rebecca laughed, her voice filled with contempt. "Who? You? Susan? Neither one of you has anywhere near my experience or talent." She turned to Zander. "And if you let either of them touch my project I guarantee you will blow this deal. You'll sink this whole fucking company!"

He fixed her with an icy stare. "Rebecca, please sit down. Now."

She reluctantly did so, crossing her arms as she glared across the table.

On the other side, Ryan said, "She might not have the experience, but I know she has the talent. And you've told me many times that what this firm needs is a fresh approach. The artist I want to recommend is...April."




Foolish April



Every head at the table turned to stare at her in surprise. But their surprise was a fraction of April's own as she pulled at the back of Ryan's pant leg, desperately trying to get him to sit back down.

Rebecca laughed bitterly. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. I knew this freak was your pet."

"Rebecca -- " Zander said.

"No! I'm not going to let this untalented midget -- who you know was only hired because HR felt sorry for her -- come anywhere near a project that's rightfully mine! Part of the reason I can never get anything done is because it's like a fucking freakshow having to walk past her cubicle every day and see her weird legs and her creepy little arms."

"Rebecca!" Zander roared, halfway out of his chair. "I've always found your behavior reprehensible but this is beyond the pale. You and I already have a meeting scheduled in my office as soon as we're done here. But if you can't keep your damned mouth shut, you can leave this room right now and wait there for me."

She dropped back into her chair, still furious.

"And I believe you also owe April an apology."

Rebecca fixed her with a fake smile. "I'm sorry, my little princess." But then she glanced at Ryan and April couldn't help noticing the hurt look in her eyes.

Zander sat back down. "Ryan, as much as I disagree with almost every word that comes out of Rebecca's mouth, she was right on one count -- she's the only artist here with enough talent to save this project before the deadline."

Ryan glanced at April with a look that was almost an apology. And then he said, "I thought you might say that, which is why I've brought a drawing for all of you to see."

April's eyes went wide as he pulled a familiar sheet of paper from a portfolio beside him, and when he laid it on the table she shrunk down in her seat, wishing she could shrink right out of sight as everyone else at the table stood and leaned over it. 

"Holy shit," Susan said, as she stared at the drawing. "Is that you?"

Ryan nodded as they stared at the charcoal sketch showing him sprawled across the couch, his spent cock lying heavily across his thigh; every detail of the drawing almost screaming at anyone looking at it that its subject had just finished coming. "Yeah, I modeled for her last night."

"Wow," Susan said, as she fanned herself with her hand. "Let me know how much you charge. I might need you to model for me too some time."

Ryan tried not to blush as Zander leaned close and stared at the drawing, his eyes taking in the line work, the control, not the subject.

"This is good, April, this is really good. You drew it?"

She nodded, trying not to make eye contact with Rebecca, whose eyes were searing into her.

"I'm embarrassed to admit that I didn't even know you had a talent, or even an interest in art. If I did, I would have gladly given you an opportunity before this."

"It's just a hobby," she squeaked, shrinking still lower in her seat as Rebecca's hate-filled eyes swept over her like a flamethrower. "No one was ever supposed to see it."

"I should apologize to April," Ryan said, "I took it without asking her permission. But I wanted everyone to see how talented she is. I think she can really help us on this project."

Zander arched an eyebrow. "Maybe, but there's no way I can take a drawing like this to a meeting where we'll be discussing art for a children's book. Do you think you can do some other layouts up before Friday, April?" 

"Oh my god!" Rebecca cried out, leaping to her feet. "Are you seriously considering letting this little freak work on my project because of this...shit! We're going to hire this little slut just because she knows how to draw a fucking cock?!"

And before anyone could stop her she snatched the charcoal drawing up and furiously tore it in half.

"Rebecca!" Zander cried, as both he and Ryan tried to stop her. But she fought them off, almost snarling as she tore the sketch to pieces.

Then April's high-pitched shout cut sharply across the room, and everyone froze. No one had ever heard her raise her voice before.

"Hey!" she cried, her eyes welling with tears as she stood high on her chair. "You can call me names -- freak -- midget -- I don't care. I was born this way and I've lived with it every day of my life. I know what I am. But to destroy my art...I used to think it meant something that you had a degree on your wall and I didn't. I used to think it meant you were a real artist. But you're not, because a real artist would support and encourage the work of the people around her, not tear it to pieces. 

"Ryan supported me and I won't let him down. I will submit layouts for this project and, when they're done, I hope you can look at them and appreciate them for what they are, not judge them based on what you think of me."

Finished, April jumped down from her chair and headed toward the door without waiting for a response. But as she turned the handle she took one last look back at Rebecca who was watching her with a stunned look, the torn fragments of the drawing still clutched between her fingers.

"And you know what the worst part is?" April said. "I didn't just think you were an artist, I thought you were my friend."

* * *

April was at home in her studio, already working on her ideas for the new layouts when the doorbell rang.

She ran down the hallway toward the front door. Her heart leapt when she spotted Ryan's now familiar silhouette in the sidelight.

She opened the door and smiled up at him. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

He had a box under one arm and a folder under the other. "I just came by to give you this. I wasn't sure if you'd still want it." 

Opening the folder, April saw the torn pieces of her drawing. As she took them to the table and laid them out like a jigsaw puzzle, Ryan said, "That was quite the speech you made today."

"I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I've never done anything like that before. I didn't mean to get so carried away."

"That was nothing compared to the fireworks after you left -- Zander fired Rebecca."

April stared at him, stunned. "I hope they didn't fire her because of what I said?!"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "it wasn't your fault, it was Rebecca's. And it wasn't because of what happened in the meeting today."

"But why then?"

"It was because of me. When I left here last night, Rebecca was waiting down the street in her car."

"Waiting...for you?"

Ryan nodded. "She's been following me for a while. Stalking me, basically, and you didn't see half the stuff she tried at work. Believe me...it went way further than just sitting on my lap when I didn't want her to. I tried to discourage her, told her I wasn't interested, but Rebecca doesn't take no for an answer. And when she saw the drawing you'd made of me, I think it was more than professional jealousy that made her want to destroy it.

"I should have said something to Zander as soon as it started but I thought I could handle her on my own and, honestly, I didn't think anyone would have a lot of sympathy for me if I told them I was being sexually harassed by someone that looked like Rebecca. But after today's meeting, after seeing the way you stood up to her, I knew I had to say something. And that's when I found out this wasn't the first time.

"It turns out that Mark, the assistant art director before me, had the same sort of problems with her. And when he quit, and basically told Zander it was because of her, she was given a written warning not to let it happen again. So when I asked to have a meeting with him and HR and told them what was going on -- "

"They fired her."

Ryan sighed. "And she's not the only one who won't be there Monday morning."

"What do you mean?"

"When I told them what she was doing to me, I also told them what we did to you."

"You mean April Fools' Day? You didn't have to. I didn't tell anyone."

"You should have. That prank we played on you was wrong, and I was just as much a part of it as Rebecca."

"So they fired you?!"

"No, luckily, because this was my first time, they only gave me a written warning and suspended me for a week. But it means I won't be there to see you submit your proposal, and I just wanted to drop by so I could wish you luck."

"But...I need you there."

"No you don't. You've already got everything you need to succeed and I know when they see your art, when they see what I see, they're going to love you."

April glanced down at the fragments of her torn sketch on the table. "I feel bad for Rebecca, but she should have known it's bad luck to play a prank after noon on April Fools' Day."

"I don't know about that," Ryan said, as he moved a piece of the drawing into place. "It seems to have worked out pretty well for me."

April couldn't help smiling as she glanced up at him. And then she noticed the box under his arm. "What's that?"

"These are my drawing tools. I didn't just come over to tell you about Rebecca. I was also hoping maybe we could do another sketch together?"

Her eyes lit up. "Okay. And I already went and bought some more wine just in case you...umm...dropped by." 

A few minutes later they were walking to the studio with glasses of wine in their hands. April put hers down, placed a fresh sheet of paper on the easel, sat in front of it and said, "Do you want to lie on the couch again like last night, or stand this time?"

The corner of Ryan's mouth curved into a smile. "Oh, did you think I meant for you to sketch me? I already posed. You said we were even. So I was thinking tonight, maybe you could model for me?"

The color drained from April's face. "Me? Naked?"

"Yeah, that's how nude modelling normally works." He opened his box and started sorting through his pencils. "You don't mind, do you? I mean, it's not like you haven't already seen me completely naked."

An image of him lying on the couch flashed through her thoughts. And then she pictured herself in the same position and winced. "I -- I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"You don't want to see me naked. I'm not like other girls."

He arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean? You've got three boobs?"

She couldn't help laughing. "No, I mean...their bodies are beautiful. Your body is beautiful. Mine isn't."

Ryan stepped toward her. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

He took her hand, and she made sure to grab her glass as he led her toward the couch. She sat down and took a giant sip of wine, trying to calm her nerves. And then he took her glass, setting it on the table as he knelt in front of her. 

He slid his fingers under her sweater and the touch of his skin against her flesh sent a shiver through her. He lifted his hands and she raised her arms as he pulled her top over her head.

She had on a tiny, lacy pink bra underneath that cupped her small breasts. When he saw it he smiled. "Sexy. I like it."

She blushed, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her brassiere. Her mother had bought it for her years ago but she'd never even worn it until tonight.

Ryan slid his hand across her shoulder as his eyes slid down her body. "Do you want me to take off the rest, too?"

April shook her head. Gently biting her lower lip as she stood up, she watched his eyes as she undid her pants and pushed them down, balancing herself with a hand on his shoulder as she stepped out of them. She had matching pink panties on, and Ryan hooked a finger in her waistband and went to pull them down.

"No," she said, gently squeezing his wrist to stop him.

"What's wrong?" he said, as his eyes took in her under-sized but perfectly proportioned body. "You're beautiful, April."

"Umm...thanks, but it feels weird being naked in front of you," she said, as she awkwardly used her hands to try and cover her bra and panties, concealing them from his penetrating gaze. "Can't you just sketch me like this, in my underwear?"

"I could, but I'd rather sketch you in the nude. Maybe you'd be more comfortable if I was naked too?" 

Before she could argue he was standing in front of her, pushing his jeans down. Once again, he didn't have any underwear on and her eyes went wide when she saw how stiff he already was. He seemed oblivious to the fact that his giant erection was bouncing inches from her face as he pulled his shirt over his head, but April couldn't help noticing it as the memory of having her hands wrapped around it the night before flooded her thoughts.

"Is that better?" Ryan asked, now completely naked.

April just nodded as she licked her dry lips, her eyes locked on his thick length. 

He knelt in front of her again, smiling as he pulled her ponytail loose and let her soft brown hair tumble down around her shoulders. And then he reached behind her, unhooking her bra. She let him slide it off, revealing her small breasts and her tiny pink nipples. This time she didn't try to hide them, even though she felt his eyes on her as her own gaze drifted down between his legs, staring at the stiff length sticking straight up toward her.

He curled his arm behind her and she thought he was going to pull her panties off, but instead he lifted her, carrying her back toward the couch, his arm beneath her, one hand cupped against the cheek of her ass as she instinctively pressed herself against him. Her small arms curled around his neck as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder, savoring his clean scent and the warmth of his chest against her cool breasts.

As he laid her down on the couch, she reluctantly released her hold and gazed up at him. He was glorious in his nakedness, like a sculpture by Bernini come to life, and her fears eased. She said, "You can sketch me nude if you want...completely nude."

He smiled as he knelt and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pink underwear. She gently bit her lower lip and lifted her hips as he pulled her panties down, and his smile grew when he saw the tiny trimmed triangle waiting between her legs.

Suddenly self-conscious, April covered herself with her hands. And an unwanted memory of the last time she'd been naked with a man came crashing back into her thoughts.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Ryan stared at her, confused by the question. "Umm...to sketch you?"

"No, I mean, why me? Why not Rebecca or any of the other girls in the office? You don't need to lie. I know they're all more beautiful than I am."

Ryan brushed his hand against her cheek as she sunk back against the couch, completely naked except for her hands between her legs and feeling smaller than ever.

"April, you need to know that beauty has nothing to do with size; it doesn't matter if you're large or little. Beauty comes from inside, from here," he said, touching his fingers to her breast, "and Rebecca's heart was small but yours is so big, and so beautiful."

He leaned close and kissed her lightly just above her breast, where her heart was pounding in her chest. And then he lifted his head and brushed his lips against hers. "Now, let me sketch you so I can show you just how beautiful you really are."

She nodded, the memory of his kiss still lingering on her lips as he went to the easel and readied his materials. But a moment later he returned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, it's just that I thought maybe I'd try your technique, and see if touching my subject helps me visualize my sketch."

She blushed at the memory and her heart skipped a beat as he gently pulled her hands away from between her legs, revealing every inch of her body to his probing eyes. She felt his gaze slide over her skin as his hands traced her flesh, starting at the inside of her calves and brushing across her thighs as he followed her hips up to her midsection.

And then he leaned close, so close that April could feel his breath against her skin as he grazed his fingers across her ribcage and brushed them against the underside of her small breasts before enveloping them with his hands, lightly squeezing them as he slowly circled his thumbs against her nipples.

April sighed as they grew erect under his gentle touch, and then gasped as he pressed his mouth to her left breast and flicked his tongue against the sensitive pink flesh at the center. She ran her fingers through his hair, keeping him close as his own hand slid back down her body, between her legs.

She sighed again as he spread them apart, and slumped back against the couch as he trailed kisses down her body. His hands were on the inside of her thighs and when his lips brushed between her legs her back arched involuntarily.

April moaned as he explored her with his lips and tongue. She'd never been kissed like this before, only dreamt of it, and the sensation nearly overwhelmed her. His mouth was pressed against her, every flick of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure arcing through her tiny frame and finally, unable to stand it anymore, she pulled him back up. 

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she gasped, "nothing at all."

She pressed her mouth against his and kissed him, her tiny tongue tentatively touching his as she explored his mouth, hoping she was doing it right. She'd never kissed a boy, never really kissed a boy. The night she'd lost her virginity there had been groping, oral sex and, of course, intercourse, but there had been exactly zero kissing.

And now, as Ryan pressed his mouth against hers, she felt like he was taking her breath away. She broke the kiss, her heart hammering in her chest.

Her painting was on the wall behind Ryan. And in her mind's eye she saw the dreaming girl on the couch, the one with the long brown hair and the impossibly long legs, waking up and twisting lazily around to see what was happening behind her. And when she did she smiled proudly down at April, smiled down at her from a face she knew so well.

Ryan trailed kisses down the side of her neck as April reached between his legs and squeezed his stiff length with both hands. He moaned appreciatively in her ear as she closed her eyes and slowly stroked him, savoring the feel of his hardness with her hands, the memory of his size still etched on her memory from the night before.

She opened her eyes and saw he was watching her hands as she pumped them up and down his thick, swollen shaft. His cock felt amazing. She wanted to make him come again. But this time, she wanted him to come inside her.

She spread her legs a little wider and pulled him closer, using his cock like an oversized handle. But now that she had him at her entrance, she hesitated. For the last three years she'd been trying to forget the last time she'd been in this position, the memory painful, and she knew there was no way her previous partner had been so...big.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked.

April nodded, her eyes still locked on his cock. "It's just...I don't think it's going to fit."

Ryan smiled. "Trust me; it's going to be a perfect fit, like Cinderella putting on her slipper. Can I?"

April quickly nodded, her eyes sliding down his naked body. She felt like she was in a fairy tale. She'd never thought of herself as Cinderella, more like the ugly duckling, but she definitely knew he was her Prince Charming. And then she wondered if that was really the prince's name in the story?

Ryan' touch woke her from her reverie, his fingers wet between her legs, touching her, teasing her. She shivered at the contact, gasping as a tremor of pleasure vibrated through her, and watched as he rubbed his knob, getting it slick with her juices as he pressed it against her mound.

He pushed forward, spreading April wide as he entered her. Her eyes went even wider and she squeezed his forearms, clenching her teeth as he nearly split her in two.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

April nodded again. She couldn't speak. She knew if she opened her mouth the only thing that'd come out would be a shout, a strangled cry of pain and pleasure. She glanced down between her legs. Only his knob was inside her, but it felt like she was being impaled.