Visual Arts
by Platonic Catapult
I.
For several months now, I had been teaching my art history classes online instead of in a college classroom due to the Covid-19 pandemic. While it isn't my favorite way to teach, my students had done pretty well and I was at least still getting paid. I have an extra bedroom that I'd set aside for doing school-related things from grading and lesson planning to creating charts and other learning aids. It took me a while to get used to all the pieces of technology I needed to master in order to get my lessons across, but I muddled through it.
What I missed most, though, was the person-to-person contact with my colleagues and my students. Being cooped up in my little house was getting old by the time the third month of quarantine rolled around. Quite frankly, I was anxious to get back to my former habits which included an occasional date (or more than a date). Okay, I'll admit it. I was horny as hell.
To spice up the dreary routine of being quarantined, I set up a little routine for myself. I'd get up, shower, do some yoga and then a bit of lesson planning. Then I'd plan my online sections of art followed by an hour or more of porn as my reward. It helped the day go by more quickly and, because the camera never showed me below my waist, I never had to get totally dressed in order to teach, which meant that I'd never have to get totally undressed either when the mood moved me to masturbate.
About a week before midterm grades were handed in, I happened to find an amateur porn site that revolved around some college students and their over-sexed teacher. I won't deny that finding it made my heart race more than a little bit. The teacher, a thirty-something woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to a comedian who was once on Saturday Night Live had an intimate relationship with two girls and one guy in her college lit class. What I liked was that each of the characters were neither model-pretty actors nor studly handsome and well-hung. The girls had average sized boobs, attractive faces and average bodies. The character of the guy was a somewhat nerdy but good-looking kid with longish hair, glasses, a beard and a bit of a belly going for him. The general story was that the teacher had a thing for the guy since he was the best student in the class and she arranged for the two girls to be tutored by the nerdy student.
The girls, one redhead and one blonde, fell for the guy and, out of gratitude would each separately meet the guy on the sly and fuck him or give him an occasional blow job. The girls also spent their time going down on each other. Finally, the jig was up. One of the girls got caught fucking the nerd, so they decided that the best way to handle the situation was to try a three-way. That was what did me in. I couldn't stop watching that episode and I found myself watching it over and over again, masturbating with fingers, toys or whatever was handy. I couldn't get the trio out of my mind.
On more than one occasion, I woke myself up to watch the flick and then do what came naturally so I could get some sleep. I'd mentally cast the roles of the two girls and the nerdy guy using my various students both past and present. Was I obsessing over it? Yeah. Probably, but for the time being it eased my boredom and my horniness.
One night, I woke up at three in the morning and cued up my new favorite clip, in which the teacher gets in on the fun with her three students. I masturbated, had a wet and wild orgasm or three and then tried to fall back asleep. It must've been at least six in the morning that I finally fell asleep and I was damned groggy when the alarm clock rang at 7:30. I managed to down a cup of coffee, some yogurt and a slice of toast, do a bit of yoga, a review of my plans and I was as ready for the day as I was going to be.
Now, ordinarily, I would wear a pair of ratty old shorts (without my usual g string) with a nice top for the sake of presentation. That morning, I was so drowsy that that I just said, "Fuck it," to myself and just wore my top and nothing at all below my waist. My cluttered desk would hide the rest.
My students were all ready for me and I was (somewhat) ready for them, but for some reason, I realized maybe for the first time, that I had an attractive, if nerdy guy with a beard in one class on Art in the Renaissance along with a few blondes and one outstandingly pretty long-legged, redhead. I did a double take.
My fatigued mind was definitely playing tricks on me, I decided. In spite of myself, as I watched my porn after class was done, I immediately began rubbing away at my clit and clutching at my tits above the desk until I came with a thunderous orgasm. My fingers were shaking, my chair was soaked and I was sure that whoever heard scream out my orgasm called the cops because they thought someone was being murdered.
To the casual observer, would there be any doubt about what I was doing in the privacy of my spare bedroom?
There was only one little problem — I was still transmitting.
I hadn't even bothered to shut down my computer. Frantically, I pulled the battery out of my laptop in the hope that no one had seen or heard and that there would be no evidence of my guilty passionate "moment." But it was too late. It was only a question of who saw me and what had they seen.
Because it was an advanced level seminar, there were only eleven students in the class. I had assigned them a research paper for the following week comparing the personalities of both Michelangelo and Leonardo daVinci; all eleven had apparently emailed me their work and I was relieved, three days later, to see that no one had dropped the class. In eight of the submissions, I found papers of varying quality but it was the other three that made my stomach heave. Nate, Helen, and Sara wrote the same note: "Meet me at Patsy's Pizza at 9 tonight."
My stomach took a dive and I gave an offering of vomit to the porcelain goddess. I had worked so hard to get this job. Now I was going to lose it. I cried, I broke things and I got then ready to head out to Patsy's.
When I arrived, the three of them were already there. Although all three were wearing masks according to Covid protocol, I could nonetheless sense that they were smiling. Smiling? Not what I expected.
"Chin up," I told myself. "Be professional." I tried to keep a stiff upper lip behind my own mask. It was so much harder to gauge a person's facial expressions when half of it was covered.
So, being the consummate professional, I told them, "I hope you've brought the research paper I assigned you."
"About that paper you assigned," Helen, the spokesperson for the group said, "All three of us have been getting nothing but A's in your class so far, Eileen. We thought it might be fun to have a bit more of a challenge this time."
The fact that they called me by my first name rather than Professor Franklin caught me off guard. My lip trembled. "Wwwhat did you have in mind," I asked from behind my mask.
Sara put her hand on mine. "It's okay. Don't get nervous. I'm pretty sure you'll like our idea and no, you're not in any trouble at all. None of us will ever tell anyone what we saw the other night and we're pretty sure we're the only ones who did."
"Um, what we had in mind, Miss, er Prof...Eileen... what we had in mind Eileen," Nate stammered nervously, "is an oral exam of sorts. One which we hopefully all will pass and enjoy."
They went on to explain that the three of them had been lovers since the beginning of the term and that they decided after that night that they'd offer me a chance to become a member in their oral club. If I said no, they'd accept that, but if I said yes, I had to agree to join then for some red hot coed-teacher sex. How could I say no?