When I started college, I had to take life drawing classes. We used to spend days and days drawing with charcoal and sanguine. I had a Japanese instructor and he was amazing, sadly I was never that good, but I tried.
The class was small, about five of us, and the models were fairly good. The best model was a beautiful girl, she was tall, slender, and flexible as a dancer should be. The soft curves of her body translated to the paper wonderfully and she was very nice.
The rest of the models were interesting, we had a petite woman with unruly hair and a double mastectomy, a middle aged gay guy—who seemed to enjoy the modeling a bit much