The next week passed quickly. The August deadline arrived: the Champagne Campaign hit the media, the agency quivered with suspense, and Cassie wondering if she would have a job when the Bubbles Champagne sales-returns came in?
Thankful that her days were filled with her tasks at the agency she was determined to put the episode with Lisa along with her Atherton "interviews" out of her mind. With that single-mindedness of purpose she possessed she might have suppressed her memories except for Lisa. They saw each other every day as Cassie kept tabs on the progress of her projects going through production.
Outwardly nothing seemed to have changed in their relationship. Lisa was as friendly and helpful as always. It would have been almost as if that interlude with Jeff had never taken place except for those special moments when Cassie was aware of Lisa's gaze upon her.
The woman never spoke of that night except with her eyes. At times they held a dreamy speculative cast as if Lisa was mentally back in that incredible orgy, but then it would be the work at hand that would startle her back into the present, and the only hint of what had been on her mind resided in the soft flush of her cheeks and the longing in her eyes when she glanced at Cassie.
Cassie knew well enough what Lisa was thinking about. No matter how hard she tried to suppress them the sensations of those erotic hours with the woman and her husband kept returning to her. The most bothersome was the vividness of her lovemaking with Lisa. When she let her mind drift onto the matter she found herself almost baffled by what she had done, and most astounding of all was the intensity of the pleasure of those slaps on her butt accompanied by Lisa's curses of 'bitch', 'slut', and 'whore'.
Now every time she looked at Lisa she was so conscious of those long hours they had spent together in that orgy of cunnilingus after they had satisfied Jeff. They had discovered and tongued, and licked and kissed every little zone of pleasure between each others legs that they could find, their mutual caresses spreading over their entire bodies and lifting into long sessions of oral lovemaking on the way to renewed explorations of each others pussies and puckers.
The more Cassie thought about it the more she was convinced that the fucking session with Jeff was simply Lisa's excuse to explore her own attraction to her self.
That there was no doubt of Lisa's desires, and of her own yearnings, was confirmed when they met one day in the lunch room, found themselves alone and the woman tossed Cassie a direct glance from her stool at the counter. Lifting her knee, and crossing her leg to reveal her naked sex, she whispered: "Lick my cunt slut."
Cassie groaned helplessly, a sudden thrill of submission whisking within her, and fled the room. At first she tried to ignore the way she had submitted to Lisa's demands. She had thought she was just humoring Jeff in his desire to watch them going down on each other. It was the same with Leo who had been totally turned on watching her have sex with Margo and Denise. But now she knew that if Lisa ever ordered her to hop into bed again with her and Jeff she would have to do it.
Never had she guessed that she might be so attracted to other girls until Margo and Denise had shown her what a perfect delight such lovemaking could be. But after her first Atherton weekend there was no hiding the utter thrill she had experienced in Margo's arms and, now that she could face it, this last incredible thrill again of Lisa's busy tongue hungry for every inch of her; the very thought of it made Cassie's s belly tingle with excitement. Staring up at her own face reflected in the window glass before her she wondered who this new person might be? Perhaps Margo had put her finger on it in the interview when she asked her why she painted women. With a helpless shrug she decided she might learn more in tonight's life class than she had ever expected.
The summer twilight had faded when she reached the Art Institute. Myriad headlights lanced the darkness as the unceasing traffic passed before her. How many of those cars bore girls who were dealing with what she might have to accept? More than what she might have guessed if her own experience was any clue. It was past closing time and the familiar lobby was empty now of visitors when she turned into the corridor that led to the classrooms. Her weekly life-drawing-class was more than a habit, it was a challenge and an exercise in honing her drawing and interpretive skills, she had always looked at it the way a dancer felt about daily practice, it was an absolute necessity. Now it might even be more than that. She entered the brightly lit familiar room with its little forest of easels surrounding the modeling stand, that altar to the beauty of the human form, and chose a place in the front row. The room was already bustling with students preparing for the entrance of the model. Eric, the instructor, seemed to have an endless inventory of interesting men and women who modeled in the nude. There were favorites who posed again and again and others who might appear only once or twice.
Cassie settled back on her stool and waited for tonight's choice. Moments later a young blonde woman wrapped in a voluminous chenille robe wound her way past the students and stepped up onto the stand. Cassie was sure this girl had posed before but not often.
"Okay, let's begin with the usual three minute warm up gesture drawings," Eric began. "Then we'll do some longer poses."
He nodded at the model and she removed her robe. She was full bodied and statuesque with long lovely curls falling over her shoulders, and she was good at displaying herself while the class settled to the task of catching the gesture and mood of the short poses she offered them. For the next twenty minutes the room echoed with the sounds of charcoals busily scratching over the drawing pads.
From where she sat Cassie saw the model's loins in the reclining pose she had taken and now she found herself strangely distracted by the display of the girl's sex. She found the next pose even more distracting as the model rolled over on her back and opened her legs.
As it happened no one else in the class was privy to the display that now confronted Cassie. The girl's large shadowed vulva offered itself to her in all its lubricious detail, accented by her ripe breasts, and surmounted by her lovely face. With a few expert strokes Cassie suggested the whole pose but then she concentrated on what was holding her attention.
As she worked her eyes flicked from the model to her pad and back again. In one such passage she became aware of where the girl's attention was focused. It was upon her self and she caught the expression in the girl's eyes. Normally the models hardly ever made eye contact with the students, but this was more than that Cassie realized. Or was it just that she herself was so hypersensitive to such things right now. The girl's face was averted from most of the class but her gaze fell directly upon Cassie. She had strikingly intent eyes and her mouth had opened softly. Cassie became aware that the girl knew she was focused on her sex, but instead of looking away the girl let her expression say, 'you like me there don't you?' For an answer Cassie let her attention focus even more on the girl's loins while she captured those details of her vulva that are usually hardly suggested. She was closer than anyone else in the room to the model and in the unusual rapport that was flowing between them Cassie observed a strange new effect. A tiny bead of moisture appeared between the inner petals of the girl's labia. It flowed slowly down between them swelling in size until it hung like a glistening wet pearl for moments and then dropped.
Watching it fall Cassie saw another replace it. In that instant she realized that the girl was so turned on to her that her juices were flowing, and even more, she knew that her own body was rousing to the offering before her. She felt her breath rise in soft pants that made her open her mouth, and in the sudden need to stretch her arms she recognized her own sexual tension.
Was she as wet down there as this young beauty? She found her mind wandering, her hand faltering, her eyes returning to the model's eyes and then dropping to her full glorious breasts and the dark circles of her nipples that made her mouth water. The girl's skin was so smooth, her hair so soft....her cunt so....
With a start Cassie pulled herself together. This was impossible! Resolutely she closed her pad and left her stool. There was no way she could work feeling like this. This was insane, nutty! She needed some distance, some cold night air, some distraction. Moments later she was back out on the broad sidewalk. Her apartment was blocks away and she decided to walk and order her thoughts. But the one question that kept returning over and over was, "Am I a lesbian?"
When she thought about the ease with which Margo had seduced her, and then about the way she had performed with Denise at her deflowering, and now there was this hunger for Lisa she could hardly deny the conclusion.
Except of course Leo had been there with Margo and Denise just the way Jeff had been there with Lisa. These had been threesomes, turn-ons for the men, and she had been so thoroughly fucked by the guys that she could hardly separate her responses to Margo and Denise and Lisa from her responses to Leo and Jeff. It was all so new, so distracting, so compelling. And the most upsetting thing of all was that compulsion she had felt just now to slide in between that model's inviting thighs and bury her face in that girl's all too delicious twat.
The soft glow of a low blue neon light ahead spelled out the word: BAR . It was a familiar bistro, one that she had been in from time to time with the other art students after class. Perhaps a drink would settle her mind a bit. She descended the steps and pushed at the door. It yielded but as she was about to step through she was confronted by the bartender:
"Sorry but we don't serve minors."
"I'm not asking you to," Cassie returned flipping her card at him.
