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There were tiny brook trout darting about in the river and fourteen year old Charlie Marks wished he was alone under the old bridge. Mrs. Zigelstein who owned the art supply shop had joined Charlie under the bridge down by the riverbank. She had brought her sketching stuff and was working on a drawing of Charlie’s face. She showed it to Charlie and he was surprised to see how really good it was.

Ziggy, as she chose to be called, began a full figure drawing of Charlie. He was sitting on a rock with his feet in the water, and could have been a living Saturday Evening Post cover by Norman Rockwell.

“This is going to be a lovely sketch, Charlie,” Ziggy said. “You know, if you took off your shirt, it would look better.” Charlie ignored her words.

“You know what would be a fabulous picture!” Ziggy went on. “If you were naked and wading in the water. Like the water would be up to around your knees, give or take an inch.”

“No way am I going to get naked outdoors where anyone could come by,” Charlie said.

“I want to see how the setting looks from the river side,” Ziggy said. She waded into the water in her white tights with the oversize man’s white shirt that hung down to her thighs. When she was out in the rushing water over her knees, she pretended to stumble on slippery rocks. She plunged into the water, careful to hold her sketch pad up to keep it dry.

With an impulsive reaction, Charlie jumped from his perch on the rock into the water and waded to Mrs. Zigelstein to help her. She reached out to him and he took her hand to help her up. Ziggy emerged from the water and smiled at Charlie. She enjoyed the awestruck look on his face and she knew what she looked like. The shirt clung to her body as tightly as the tights on her legs. Her breasts were quite firm for her age because she’d never had a child. The stimulation of the situation had her large nipples standing out rigidly.

Charlie put an arm around Ziggy’s waist and Ziggy put her arm around Charlie’s shoulders as they waded to the riverbank. Before they got there, they lost their balance and tumbled into the water. They stumbled to their feet, laughing uncontrollably and clung to each other until they stood safely on the bank.

“I’ve lost my drawings in the water. The lines have run. They’re a mess,” Ziggy said.

“I’m sorry, Ziggy,” Charlie said.

“Come up to my studio to dry off,” Ziggy said. “I’ll do my drawings of you at the same time. I have some great lemonade up there too.”

“Okay, I guess,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to hang around the street waiting for my clothes to dry.”

They went across the road to Ziggy’s shop and she showed Charlie the way upstairs and into the studio. An all glass wall that slanted in admitted masses of light and when the sun was too hot, as it was on this occasion, Ziggy had huge blinds made that covered the large window. She had an electric remote control that rolled the blinds down and shut out the blazing sun.

Ziggy directed Charlie to a dressing room where he could disrobe and bring his wet clothes out to be dried. There was a bath towel in the dressing room and Charlie wrapped it around himself before he came out with his wet clothes. Ziggy was also wearing a bath towel and she put Charlie’s clothes with her own on a corner rack.

“Isn’t there anything I can offer you, Charlie, to convince you to drop your towel and let me draw you.”

“I don’t think you want to just draw me, do you?” Charlie said.

“You’re a very good looking young man, Charlie,” Ziggy said, and let her towel drop.

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