Draw Me!

Draw me, she'd command thrusting her hips to one side. Notice my shoulders are always opposite my hips. I was looking at her conical breasts shaped by her bra underneath her black turtle neck. Her bulging hips squeezed into blue jeans. I'd rather not, I thought. I despised every inch of her. I was 9 years old and my sister was eleven. We were in my mother's art studio above the garage. Sometimes she'd have a nude male model come to pose for a few neighborhood ladies to sketch using pastels and she'd joke about it at dinner parties.