Two things were true about Cassandra Smith. She was undoubtedly one of the most dedicated professors on campus. And she had a tendency to fantasize about female students, much to her own dismay.
She'd proudly admit to the first. The second? She'd never tell another soul. Ever.
Her life took a striking turn mid-semester after a European History 205 class. She shut off the slide projector and brought the classroom lights back up, delivering parting words along with a reminder of next week's homework assignment.
It was the usual routine whenever class ended. She hung around by her desk while the 50-odd students headed towards the door. Some said 'bye' to her. A few would ask questions. Most went about their day, walking or hurrying away, depending on how the lecture went.
The crowd disappeared, however Lauren McMilton hung around.
"Professor Smith," Lauren said, adjusting the bag around her shoulder with her school supplies in it. "Loved the lecture."
Cassandra gave a brief smile. She'd heard it all. While she appreciated every comment about her teaching style, the praise had become banal after doing this for nearly 15 years.
"Thanks. There's more next week. And plenty more after that."
Lauren nodded. "Which is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Here, I have something for you."
The student reached in her bag and handed the teacher a flyer.
"What's this?" Cassandra asked.
"An invitation. I'm a member of the Art Club. We're holding an exhibit on Wednesday the 30th, at 6 pm. I'd like you to come."
The professor glanced at the invitation again. "Well thank you. I should be free that night. I'd love to come."
"Great. But there's something else I wanted to ask you. You seem like an expert on European artwork. Maybe expert is not the right word, but you know a lot about it."
"Oh, there are plenty of other professors on campus more qualified to discuss artwork from this time period. I can refer you to them if you'd like."
"Actually, I'd be more comfortable asking
you
this," Lauren said.
"Oh, okay."
"Because, well, you're a woman. Sounds weird now, but you'll totally get it once you see what I'm talking about."
A stirring comment. Cassandra wondered what this was about. What gender had to do with anything. And why Lauren was nearly blushing.
"Understood. What's your question?" the professor asked.
"Would you come see my artwork? I'd love to get your feedback before the exhibit. I think you have great insight."
"And where would this take place?"
"On campus," Lauren replied. "In the art building. We have a place where we can work and store our projects."
"That sounds doable. But I still don't understand why you'd want me. Professor Keating is a genius when it comes to early European style..."
Lauren blushed hard and cut the professor off. "I think it's better if I showed you. Are you free Monday around 10 or 11?"
"I can be there around 11:30 after my morning class ends. I'd enjoy seeing what you and the other art students are up to."
Lauren's blushing morphed in a light smile. "I will see you then Professor Smith. Have a good weekend."
"You too, Lauren."
***
As soon as her student had departed, Cassandra returned to her office and opened the university's main website on her laptop. It only took a moment to locate the section for the Art Club. In addition to the list of members and pictures of student-created art, there was also a link to the club's Facebook page.
She followed the link and browsed through the posted photos. On one of them, she saw that Lauren had left a comment. Clicking on her student's name, Cassandra sat back in awe when the personal page loaded. Lauren was a natural beauty, whether she dressed casually or was dolled up. But she was even more stunning with her long hair curled around her face in the profile picture. It reminded Cassandra of the sun on a summer day.
There was a photo album titled 'Art,' which Cassandra clicked on. Among sculptures and other mediums were several nude paintings which seemed to have been made in the Life Art class on campus. All of the images were nicely done, not to mention stirring.
Cassandra gulped. Was this the reason Lauren had insisted on a female professor seeing her work? But why did she want her specifically?
***
The weekend moved fast with preparing the upcoming lesson plans and visiting with a few close friends. It was Monday morning before she'd realized it. When her class finished, Cassandra headed over to the second-floor studio of the Creative Arts building, where she found Lauren and another student working on their projects for the upcoming exhibition.
Cassandra greeted both students and asked them about their pieces. The brown-haired boy's abstract sculpture of two birds in flight was impressive. As was Lauren's painting of a sunset over the ocean that looked like the water was on fire. Cassandra commended them both for their efforts. It wasn't until the boy said he had to get to his next class that she realized why Lauren had requested this particular time. It was just the two of them now.
"Here's what I wanted to show you," Lauren said, heading over to a private compartment to pull out a canvas and lay it on the table.
The painting showed a strong degree of technical skill in the lines and colors used. It was of a reclined, naked body from the shoulders to the waist with the woman's arms posed behind her.
It reminded Cassandra of the artwork photos she'd seen on Lauren's Facebook page. Could this be another self-portrait?
While possibly not the intended focal point of the piece, her eyes were drawn to the subject's breasts. They were small and pert with dainty pink nipples. She found arousal spiking within the longer she studied at them, hoping they were in fact a representation of the artist's.
Lauren continued, "I'm thinking of including this in the exhibit."
"Why wouldn't you? It's absolutely gorgeous. Consider me impressed."
"Thanks, but does it look historical enough? I'd like all of my entries to represent different periods of European art. I'm not so sure that this one would fit in the post-modern era."
Cassandra pondered the question. "As a teacher, I probably shouldn't be saying this, but I don't think anyone is going to debate if it represents the correct time period. I wouldn't worry about it."
"It matters to me," Lauren frowned, a rare look from her.
What a meticulous student, Cassandra thought. She respected that. You don't see too much of that these days, especially when it came to the intricacies of centuries-old art.
So, the professor took a closer look at the nude portrait and gave a quick rundown of how it could be better suited to fit that particular time period. All the while, Lauren listened attentively and hung on every word.
"That's about all I've got," Professor Smith concluded. "But that's just the basics. Like I said, if you want real expertise on art, you should try asking Professor Keating. But, I can see why you didn't."
"Yeah, it would be weird to randomly show a male professor a portrait of my naked breasts. He'd think I was seducing him or something."
Cassandra felt her eyebrows rise at the possible inadvertent admission.
Lauren must have noticed because she said, "Oh, so it wasn't obvious that I'm the model in that piece?"
"I had my suspicions. The hair in the painting matches yours. So does the shape of the shoulders. As for the rest, well, I wouldn't have known."
Lauren blushed. "You're right. There's no way you could have known the shape of my small boobs or the color of my nipples."
Despite the blush on her cheeks, there was a playfulness in Lauren's voice that suggested she wasn't at all bashful about this topic, and that made Cassandra feel uncomfortable in the best way possible.
The same spark of arousal Cassandra had felt while looking at the photos on Lauren's Facebook page returned. She suppressed a moan, forcing her lips to remain closed, although she wanted to lick them.
