Mrs. James wanted to work with natural light and since Andrea and I were both in school, we'd be painting on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. Andrea ab...olutely didn't want to wear anything formal like a gown so between the three of us, we decided she should pose in a skirt and V-neck sweater with a little gold heart on a fine gold chain around her neck; not too dressy but still nice.We went out to the studio and prepared the backdrop for the portrait by moving a folding room divider behind the. SHE is STILL THERE!“Ah ... YES!” he affirms; the breath helps.“Good! Meet me in the library right after the last class. I have 30 minutes before cheer practice. You need to show me geometry for our homework tomorrow. I HAVE to pass this class!”“Ah. OF COURSE, YES, I CAN do that, YES, Thank you!” ( ... of course, I can compress weeks of mathematics into 30 minutes... )She looks queerly at him. “Thank me? For what? Never mind.”She turns and leaves in a whirlwind. His mind is blown as his. ‘God damn you!’ she swore at him. No one had ever done this to her before. Not like this, no man or woman. And how was it that she was managing to keep her orgasm at bay? Mercifully, he did not suck her clit or lick it for long. She would have come, she knew. She would have come hard. There would have been no holding back. His tongue moved lower again, teasing that secret spot between her anus and her pussy. His tongue moved still lower, touched her anus. She screamed. If he touched her clit. . .oh, wow. Me oh my.”“Meet you after work?”“Absolutely.” That night we took a walk and talked. She said she was fine with moving slow, something about anticipation whetting the appetite. I sighed, relieved to have avoided the inevitable again but still dreading the moment of truth. She’d be hurt, probably even disgusted. I’d be fired, of course. I couldn’t even imagine the water cooler talk. Would I be a spurned lesbian? A manipulative liar? A nutjob? None of those options sounded like another.