But where is ? You continue to search the school, then poke your head in one half-open door.
"Ah, there he is, come in!" Before you know it a teacher by the door has you firmly by the upper arm and guides you through what looks like an art studio. You are duly impressed by the all the cute and curvy babes this class appears to have attracted. They're each in the company of some roughly human figure made of clay. "Welcome at last, young man. I'm Dr. Pollock and this is my class. Girls, our male model has finally arrived. Now we can give a specifc male form to what we've started. And you are?"
"."
"Hi, ... !" a couple of the students chorus in a sultry tone.
"We've got to get right to it, , take all your clothes off right now."
You can't help but feel a little bad for the dumb model who failed to show up, but you decided to go for it. Your sensitive ears pick up some of the blurted whispers of admiration from the class as you strip. As you go totally nude, the faint hiss of a collective suppressed gasp fills the studio.
An awkward half-minute crawls by, and then Dr. Pollock says "All right, girls, we really need to get sculpting now."
"But, Dr. Pollock," one sweet-faced petite lovely speaks up, looking terribly sheepish. "I'm trying to sculpt his ... his penis ... in its proper proportion and ... size! ... but the clay keeps falling off!"
"Yeah, me too," says another student. "It's way too heavy, it just hits the ground!"
At which point one girl with a naughty sneer jokes "Fuck, it's halfway there already!" and half the class can't help but giggle.
Dr. Pollock is trying to look thoughtful as she somehow not quite chews her fingernails. "This certainly does pose a fascinating problem. Why don't we all just ... think about it!"
You gulp, rather self-conscious as over a dozen hot young women, including Dr. Pollock, are playacting meditative poses while all staring bug-eyed at your crotch.
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