I went to an art college from 1998 to 2002.
Most of the time was spent working my mind around decent art concepts I could work in the tight deadlines given, worrying about if I had enough money to buy supplies, and when given the chance to, trying to fit in a few hours of sleep every few days or so. An art college sounds like fun but trust me, the first two years were hell. The last two years were even tougher.

To help alleviate stress, I chose to take a Figure Drawing class sophomore through Senior year. It was a studio class, where art assignments would be given and completed in the classroom. These were three hour classes held on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Freshman year was spent most of the time getting used to sketching in a studio environment, working the pencil and learning to correctly see shadows, shadow cores, highlights, working the neutral tone of the paper into the composition; that sort of thing. Towards the end of Freshman year and all through the rest of the years in college, students drew from live models.
As you may expect, this meant posed, nude people.
Posed, nude people around 19-22 year olds.

Keep in mind these models would hold still in one to two poses over the course of the three hour class. Poses sometimes would change at the half, giving students an hour and a half to do two sketches. Sometimes there were props like columns for the model to lean on, sometimes fabric would be draped over a shoulder, a lap, a leg or whatnot, but most of the time the figure would either be posed nude standing or sitting. These poses were designed by the class professor.

We learned early on that there truly is a difference between 'nude' and 'naked': 'Naked', in the posed form means a human that should be wearing clothes, yet isn't. Social taboos are obvious, embarrassment could be a factor, and eroticism was obvious..(if the person was cute.)
'Nude', however meant a study of the human form; an acknowledgement of the curves, lines, textures and play of light on the body. Nude truly means art.
Surprisingly enough, the lines between nude and naked rarely blurred for me. Somehow I found myself (just) mature enough during those years to discern between the two.

There were a few times where this just wasn't the case, however, and that's what I'm writing to tell you about today.
Once during my sophomore year, a very sexy woman was our model. Slender form, porcelain white skin, delicate features, light pink nipples, tuft of light brown pubic hair. She was maybe a year or two older than I was.
All was going well until during the class, this model got a stunned look on her face, opened her eyes wide and exclaimed, "I can't breathe!" I'm still not sure what happened, but I believe she went into some kind of panic attack.
Imagine being totally nude, sitting still for upwards of an hour an a half, stared at by about 35-50 strangers. I can sympathize.
Without thinking, I blurted out to her "Put your arms up over your head, arch your back and breathe deeply and slow."
You see, I've had panic attacks myself, and having asthma my whole life, I know how the loss of being able to breathe can really, well,...suck. At that moment, I saw someone in distress. Not a naked woman, not an erotic form, but a person in medical need.
She did as I commanded, stood up, put a robe on and we were told to take a brief break while she relaxed.

After we came back from break, the model seemed to regain her composure enough to see out the rest of the studio and we got back to sketching.
At the end of the class, the model introduced herself to me, thanked me for giving her the breathing advice, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. When she did so, I remember very distinctly smelling her light, floral perfume. I admit I was purposefully one of the last to leave the studio that day and happened to see she was openly dressing in front of me, something models didn't do. (it helped keep 'nude' and 'naked' separate for the artists when the models would instead change behind a shoji screen or in a bathroom.)
While dressing, she bent over, exposing her bare ass and vagina as she did so, looked back and smirked.
I went home and masturbated twice that evening.

Little did I know that wouldn't be the hottest experience I'd have in a Figure Drawing class.

Two years pass and I found myself in March, towards the end of my Senior year. I once again enjoyed taking time out of my busy class schedule with a Figure Drawing class. These wouldn't count towards anything; my fine art column was already filled by this time. This studio class was purely for fun.

I'd learned that over the last few years, students from the nearby state college had been recruited as models for the nude classes. This practice had now been cancelled due to the new Dean of Fine Arts. Students in the class now would take turns posing nude.
As it so happened, I'd somehow avoided being chosen to be a nude model for most of the year. It was now at the end of March and my name was picked.
I'd be posing for a Freshman level Figure Drawing class.
18 year olds, and 18 year olds I'd never met before.

I was given a pre-class sheet in preparation. In it was listed some do's and don'ts.
I was told to get plenty of sleep the night before and stretch, so that I'd not nod off while posing, or get cramps from standing or sitting still for three hours. I was told to bring clothes easy to change into and out of.
I was told not to eat foods that would cause, as the sheet listed "Embarrassing consequences"...meaning, nothing gassy. You get the idea on that one.
Lastly, the sheet suggested all male nude models masturbate before class as to not become aroused during a pose.
All good advice, and when your college tells you to jerk off, you jerk off, I thought.

My day to pose was here: I'd worn sweatpants, gym shoes and a hoodie. I was told to disrobe behind the blinder screen. I came out from behind it, acting as professional as I could. I made an effort not to look at any students in the room. The professor had me sit for the first hour and a half. The lower part of my body faced the class, and my torso was turned to the right, resting on an armrest of the chair.
All went well and frankly, I felt comfortable in what I was doing. The classroom was getting a little cold so the professor moved a small heater near my seat. All was fine.

Break came and went, and I disrobed once again for the class of 18 and 19 year olds.
This time, I'd be posed standing, facing the class with my right hand on my hip and my left hand holding the chair rest. My head was posed looking to the left in such a way that I could see the classroom clock well.
It was nearing 5:30, and the class was over at 6pm. I could hear that some students were making their way quietly out of the studio for the evening, having finished thier sketches.
I was asked by the professor if I'd be so kind as to stick around to pose for the remainder of the class and I said I would.
The professor then left.
All was well; I was probably thinking about what I'd have for dinner or something at this point when I heard murmurs from the room. I wasn't sure from who.
"No, bigger"
"Too damn big!"
"He's hairy...tee hee hee"
"Does he shave that thing?"
"Have you ever deep throated before?"
They were women's voices from the classroom. I had no idea how many students were still in the room so I remained still. I was getting a little...distracted now.
"Oh shit!," I heard one say. Then I realized I was becoming erect.
I heard someone else say. I know my face was getting red. My chest probably was too. I allowed myself a half second glance to my right and noticed there were only four students left in the entire studio, all sitting and drawing together.
"Fucking hell" one said. I know I twitched around that point.
Without knowing what I was saying, I said "Now ladies, behave..."
That didn't help.
One kept edging me on to get harder. "What if I'd come over and kiss that thing, would that help?"
"My boyfriend is about that size but not as thick."
"I wanna smack that ass!"
At this point I was nearly fully erect. I decided to ask them "Ladies are you about done sketching?"
"We stopped sketching like an hour ago. ***** is sitting her wet for you Can't you smell her pussy from there?"
*laughter*
I smirked a nervous smile, got off the stage and quickly went off to dress. Not an easy task with a fully erect penis and really hot women not but twenty feet from you.
I came back to the studio and gathered my backpack. There was one sitting next to it.
I noticed a note on top that read,

Come to room 455 right now
need that down my throat
Tell Sara you're bringing my backpack to me

I had no idea who Sara was (I still don't), and I had no idea who left the note at the time. I did know for a fact that the fourth floor was all women, however.
I found my way to the freshman dorm.

I got there, went to the fourth floor and saw names on the door. One was Sara, the other...wasn't.
(I truly don't remember what her name was!)
I knocked and a girl answered. It turned out it wasn't Sara. I learned that when she said "Thanks for my backpack. So are you straight?" "Yeah."
"Seeing anyone?" I wasn't.
She knelt down in front of me in that dark dorm room, pulled my sweats off, wrapped her 18 year old hand around my shaft and sucked my solid cock until I growled. I couldn't help it.
I remember shooting more cum then than I had during my entire college experience up to that point. I think I shocked her with the volume of my load. I remember it coated her cheeks, dripped down her chin and neck, and left a mess on her T-shirt.
I learned she was a virgin. She asked me not to fuck her, but would I please eat her out? She'd never gotten off from head before, she said.
She laid back and I found a fully hairy pussy, drenched, scorching hot and very sensitive to my tongue.
I'll assume it was due to her general excitement of the evening and not my skill, but she buried her face into her blankets and within seconds, I tasted the sweetest pussy I'd ever had orgasm all down my lips. Her vagina spasmed on my tongue.
Reality flooded back to her it seemed and she rushed me out of the room before 'Sara' would come back and find her doing unladylike things.
I went back to my nearby apartment and masturbated a few more times that evening.

I kept looking for this woman for the next few months but I soon found myself in a relationship, and the urge to see this lady in room 455 again eventually passed.

I love thinking about it all these years later however.

Thanks for reading!

Hi, all!

Just a quick update to things, but first: backfill to those of you don't know of my ongoing medical shittery.

June 2014 I had an orchiectomy; medical terminology for getting my left nut removed. I'd found a lump on it (about the size of a pencil eraser) May 2014 and was concerned. I'M SO GLAD I WAS BRAVE. I had it checked and yes, it was cancerous. I'm alive today because I jerk off. I found it one evening while enjoying NN, actually. That'll be between you and I. Tests never had shown any cancer spread to my body due to the fact that I caught it so early.

Flash forward 16 months to today. I'm on a 3 and 6 month regimen of bloodwork and bloodwork/CT scan testing. This month was one of the latter. My CT scans came back clean once again!

Furthermore, I'm now going to 4 and 8 month testing with a nurse practitioner, not oncologist.

This is the best news I've had medically in a year and a half!

Love you, NN!

Time to relax..... *ahem*

Chris

Hi, NN!
I don't normally blog, so bear with me. Thanks in advance for reading!
Men are really freaked out when you mention testicular cancer, so I thought I'd be open and transparent about my experiences with it these past twelve months. If you have questions or comments, please don't hesitate to ask!


Towards the end of May 2014, I found a small, pencil-eraser sized lump on my left testicle.
Now, I've never been one of those people to try to ignore medical issues. I'll ignore taking out the trash and hell, even college loan creditors, but not medical stuff.
I went to my general doctor who had me get an ultrasound on my boys as well as a blood test.
Sure enough, the lump came back likely for Type 1 Seminoma. From what I've been told from friends in the medical field and my doctors, it's damned fortunate I found and reported the lump when I did. It was highly treatable at this early stage.
Blood tests did NOT show what they call 'tumor markers;' a sign the cancer had spread to the rest of my body. That's the big thing to be concerned about.

June 4th 2014, I went in for my orchiectomy and had about two weeks' bed rest afterwards.
Odds are, you're not sure HOW they remove your nut. Putting it lightly, it's not nearly as bad as you might think it is.
First of all, your scrotum is left entirely untouched and intact. When a boy reaches puberty, the testes descend from approximately the area near your hip bone and stomach. That's where the incision is made. They go down, get it, snip and the whole surgery is over in about an hour. I was out from anesthetics so all I remember is laying down in the outpatient office then waking up, sick to my stomach and groggy.
The two weeks following surgery HURT. Not my penis or testicle(singular) area, but the incision area. If I did so much as clear my throat or breathe deeply, the area felt as if I was stabbed with an icy-hot knife. Sleeping was strictly on my back and on the couch for support. I walked with a cane for about two weeks after the two weeks of rest.

I've got another four years of a five year surveillance plan from my oncologist. Every three months, I have blood work checked and every six months, blood work and a CT scan.
Twelve months later, I'm proud and happy to say I feel fantastic. Tumor markers NEVER showed up in my blood tests, which means I never had any sign cancer had spread to anywhere else in my body.

Now for the NN/sex side of things:
Guys and gals, I'll be as forthcoming and blunt as I can about this: I shoot harder, thicker, more explosive orgasms now. Perhaps it's because the testicle had gone necrotic before I had it removed or WHATEVER, but I feel healthier when it comes to sex than I had before I had my nut removed. Seriously. Really. I used to have some wincing pain when I'd ejaculate before the surgery off and on, and now I don't at all. I practice Kegel muscle exercises daily which helps my harder orgasms as well.

Bottom line: men, check your testicles and don't be afraid to report lumps or pain.
SERIOUSLY. You're already scratching, jerking off and having sex; give yourself a light examination while you're at it. Like I said, the lump was noticeable, but about the size of a pencil eraser and about half the height of one.
Unfortunately, the only way to have testicular biopsy for cancer is to have the testicle removed, but I'd much, much rather lose one than lose my life. So would your loved ones!

Much luv and perving to all,
Chris AKA Ohioman1979

Hello!
First off I want to say hi to my friends that still SOMEHOW follow me here on NN after such a long hiatus for me. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy my posts and send me nice messages in the future.

This may be TMI based on medical stuff, be warned.

So about a month ago, I found a lump on my left testicle. Concerned, I called up and visited my doctor who referred me to a urologist, but not before having blood tests, CT scans and a chest X-ray performed. All of the above came back negative, but due to the fact that I had a lump, the testicle had to be removed. Pathology reports came back a few weeks later and said that yes, it had been a cancerous seminoma lump. As things stand now some nearly three weeks later, I APPEAR to be cancer free, but I just set up an oncology appointment to see what they suggest for me in the near future. I'm a bit scared, but I can handle this.

Love you all!

Ohioman1979