tagExhibitionist & VoyeurNude Day, Birthday, Art Grade

Nude Day, Birthday, Art Grade

byNJR_Kole©

Chapter 1

A Pose in Revealing Clothes

Cassie Jansen could scarcely believe that anyone could hold a pose for so long, or that a professor might show so much of herself in class.

It was getting late in the day. On any other Friday afternoon, many a student might watch the clock out of impatience to enjoy the weekend. A more studious pupil might feel pressured to spend the next couple days focused on homework. Ordinarily Cassie would fall into the latter category. Now she found herself glancing again and again at the time only to confirm her sense that the art teacher had held a difficult pose for almost an hour. Still, like all the other students presently assembled, most of her attention was on the teacher.

Ms. Aster stood on tiptoe in ballet shoes and little else. She'd stretched her arms wide as if basking in heavenly elation, as if those limbs were angel wings. Somehow she retained that position, staying so still she might have been a statue. She took such slow and deep breaths that she scarcely seemed to be breathing at all.

Over most of the year, Ms. Aster was the college dance instructor. In the summer session, while another professor was away, Aster filled in teaching a class on figure drawing and painting. On this July afternoon, she looked as if she was still in dance mode. She looked frozen in dance mode.

Aster had slipped off a short robe of burgundy silk to reveal a scant leotard. Even if the garment hadn't been the same shade as her pale skin, she'd have looked virtually nude. The leotard covered little. A deep diving décolletage revealed a great deal of cleavage. The sheer fabric obscured nothing of her protruding nipples, nor of areolae so dark they might have been inked on. The garment rode high enough up the hip to expose most of her posterior, and clung tight enough to hug the folds of her labia majora.

Aster conducted this class in the same room of the East wing where she taught dance through the rest of the year. She now posed before the large mirror which ran along the far wall. Both her front and back were on display to everyone in class, so that each student could sketch her from either angle or both.

Cassie rarely developed a deep crush on any instructor, though she could admit to herself that she had felt vague attractions to this one or that. The gender didn't matter to Cassie. What did was a striking balance of keen intellect, pleasing demeanor, and facial symmetry. Still Cassie had been too focused on her studies in math and science to entertain a fantasy of getting any teacher naked.

She did hold one dream she couldn't consciously admit to herself. Cassie imagined getting naked herself. She dreamed of doing it in front of a teacher, in front of a whole class, in front of the whole school.

As Cassie's subconscious wish tried to slide forth into her conscious mind, her own nipples hardened. Her nethers tingled and grew wet. She breathed deeper. She thought the whole class could hear that breath, and imagined they could extrapolate from its shuddering roughness her secret fantasy. That idea in itself presented a frightening and titillating thrill.

But it wasn't her own breath she'd heard. It had been that of Ms. Aster.

The instructor's barely perceptible breaths had quickened. Her already mesmerizing chest now rose and fell.

Cassie realized that she could hear little else. All pencil scratchings had stopped. She glanced around the room. The other students stared as if hypnotized. Cassie noticed the nearest three in particular.

Eddie, the college football team's quarterback, pulled at the crotch of his pants.

Debra, the snootiest person Cassie had met since high school, licked her lips.

Robert, who always dressed as if attending a Victorian dinner party, tugged at a collar buttoned up to the neck. For once, he'd brushed his long hair out of his face. He had a strong jawline, sensuous lips for a guy, and deep-set blue eyes. The rumour was that Robert was homosexual. If it were true, Cassie didn't think he'd look at Ms. Aster that way. His expression was that of a puppy smelling a sumptuous feast and hoping for just a taste. Cassie had wondered how he could stand to wear dark layers in the Summer heat. Now she saw how. He couldn't have been wearing underpants. He had a long, thick bulge. It pushed not up at his zipper—as it would had he been wearing briefs—but ran down one thigh. Its girth strained against his trousers. Cassie supposed he might been wearing boxers, but she doubted it. That was one layer he'd gone without.

Cassie developed feelings for classmates even more rarely than she did for her professors. At eighteen, one day from her nineteenth birthday, so many her age were obnoxiously loud. Though she still lived with her family, she could academically understand the riotous sense of freedom others must feel in being out from under direct parental control for the first time. Cassie just didn't care to be around the noise.

Robert was a rare quiet one. He seldom spoke in class except when called upon. When he did have something to say, he managed to convey unusual insight despite any initial shy stuttering. He and Cassie had barely spoken out of class. In passing, she had thought him cute. Now she felt something unexpected.

Jealousy.

If Robert was going to get hard in his overly formal trousers, Cassie wanted to be the cause. If the whole class was going to stare at a half naked figure, let it be hers. Half naked? Hell! Cassie wanted to go completely nude in front of them. That would be thrilling.

Now her subconscious desire didn't just tease the front of her mind. It slid all the way in, filling space ordinarily occupied by matters of mathematic and chemical equations.

Cassie squirmed in her seat, rubbing her thighs together. She could smell excitement in the air. The scent of arousal would be more telling, more suggestive than her own heavy breathing. Again she fancied that other students could detect her arousal. But like the sound of deep breathing, the erotic aroma might not have have been hers alone. It could have come from any girl in the class. Even the supposedly heterosexual, like Debra, seemed to stare with lust at their instructor. But Cassie spotted the scent's most likely origin. She she saw a trace of dampness in Ms. Aster's leotard, rendering the already sheer material outright transparent.

Cassie doubted her senses. Had the teacher gotten wet living out the very fantasy of which Cassie had only dreamed?

With a long and languid sigh the instructor relaxed her posture, set back from her toes and onto her heels, and slowly lowered her arms. She reclaimed and donned the red silk robe, tied it loosely about the waist, leaving her cleavage uncovered but hiding the juncture of the thighs.

Looking groggy or sheepishly guilty, students blinked as if coming out of a trance. Many made subtle little adjustments to their clothes, especially around the groin.

Ordinarily Ms. Aster would stroll around the room, perusing the work of her students. Now she sat cross-legged atop a nearby stool. The robe rode high up thighs. She folded her hands over her lap in a prim manner stunted minds would find at odds with her scant attire. In formal mode of speech layered with an accent Cassie had never quite been able to trace, Aster addressed the class.

"Before I release you to the wilds of the weekend, I wish to tell you of a special class I shall conduct this Saturday."

The prospect of an extra workload would sometimes make students groan aloud. This time no one did, not even Cassie, who hadn't solidified her birthday plans anyway

"This lesson will not be compulsory," Aster continued, "But I highly recommend you attend, if not to practice an art or broaden your appreciation of it then to attain some extra credit."

Word of extra credit had Cassie's full attention.

"This will be a long session, starting here at noon and running to six. After that, two may be selected to participate in an exhibition that evening. They will receive still more credit."

An exhibition? While Cassie had a fine technical understanding of human anatomy, her figure drawings had little flair. She couldn't claim to have developed a style worthy of exhibition.

Still that extra credit tempted, and not just Cassie. A couple other students murmured about it.

Aster stood. She ran her fingers down the front of her robe, smoothing out the silk in another strangely prim gesture. "Class dismissed."

Students gathered up their sketchbooks and pencils, and rose to their feet. Over the bustling noise, Aster called out, "I do want to see a few of you before you go; Eddy, Brenda, Robert, and Cassie."

Cassie's heart pounded. She thought she had some idea why she'd been called.

She didn't know the half of it.

***

Chapter 2

After Class Consultation

Ms. Aster's office bore the sort of furnishings Cassie associated with an English Lit professor rather than someone who ever worked with something so messy as paint. There were hard bound books arranged on a shelf of dark wood. There was a long oxblood leather sofa. A matching leather chair stood at the far side of a sturdy antique desk. Two elegant wooden chairs stood before it.

As in the classroom, Aster had shuttered every window against natural light in favor of artificial beams which could be consistently aimed wherever needed. At present, only a desk lamp with an amber shade illuminated the office.

Aster sat behind the desk. Her robe fell open enough to expose one breast. Beads of Summer sweat had appeared on her chest and dampened the leotard. The nipple stood out more visibly than in class. She might as well have been nude. She didn't seem to notice. She extended a hand. "May I see today's work?"

All four opened their sketch books to the latest page and handed them across the desk. Aster perused Debra's drawing. That work consisted only of a few listless lines. Eddie's sketch featured a cartoonish exaggeration of Ms. Aster's already ample chest. The instructor's expression remained neutral. She returned their books without comment.

Aster next studied Robert's work.

Cassie noted that he had taken some creative license. He'd left out the leotard, rendering their instructor naked. He'd also added to Aster's form what looked like the wings of an angel. Again, Cassie felt a flash of jealousy. She silently scolded herself for it. She might have a growing attraction for the well dressed and well endowed young man, but they had no real relationship outside of class beyond casual greetings in passing. What business was it of hers if he idolized their art teacher? Cassie felt some awe over her as well.

Ms. Aster pursed her lips. "As ever, Robert, there are smears and rubber crumbs indicative of drawing and erasing and redrawing and erasing and so on." She closed his sketchbook. "You have real talent, but you don't trust your own hand. You have the curse many artists suffer. You are a perfectionist."

"Shouldn't-" Robert began. His head dropped low, so that even more long locks than usual fell over his face. He started again. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

"It becomes a problem when fear that you might not be good enough slows or even stops your work. Am I right in thinking this is why you have turned in so few of your assignments?"

Robert said nothing, but nodded.

She handed back his sketchbook and picked up Cassie's. After a moment, she said, "Technically proficient as ever. But you-" Aster stood, and her robe fell open. The shape of her labia was still visible through the leotard. Again, Ms. Aster didn't seem to notice. She addressed not only Cassie but Eddy and Debra as well. "All of you have turned in very little work. Distracted, perhaps, by other interests?"

Cassie did find herself distracted. She dragged her eyes up away from the labia, up across the chest, and made herself meet the teacher's eye. The irises were an improbable shade of violet. From the usual distance in the classroom, Cassie had always taken that shade as color contacts or a reflection of the purple eyeshadow. Here in close quarters, Cassie saw no telltale contact's rim. The eyes were simply beautiful, and hypnotic.

"Distracted," Ms. Aster continued, "By other academic pursuits?"

Now that she focused on the teacher's words, Cassie couldn't deny them. With most of her daily attention on science, she'd taken the summer art class only to fulfill a basic requirement in the humanities.

Without waiting for confirmation, Aster turned to Eddy and Debra. "Distracted by sports? Parties? A new relationship?"

Cassie wouldn't have thought it possible, but Debra managed to turn red and look cold at the same time. Eddy just gave a goofy, cocky grin which had probably charmed a few like Debra.

Aster did not appear charmed, though it did seem that she herself could charm. When next she spoke, Cassie again tried to place the accent. She thought of movie characters, a Romany fortune teller or a vampire. "I encourage following one's passions. One of the many ways in which art and magic are synonymous is that they can convey those passions in a kind of telepathy, from one mind's eye to another."

Cassie gazed into Aster's literal eyes, again entranced by their beauty. At the same time, Cassie processed the instructor's meaning and felt her own figurative inner eye opening. She had never seen evidence enough of magic or telepathy to take such matters seriously, but the idea of art as magic was intriguing.

"The arts are the window to the mind's eye. They must not be neglected." Aster looked at each student in turn. Cassie followed her gaze. Robert was nodding. His hair had fallen back from his face, exposing a look of dawning rapture. Debra was squinting as if trying and most likely failing to fathom the instructor's words. Eddy wore the dopey, sleepy smile of a drunk. Indeed, he even smelled of domestic beer.

Ms. Aster stepped behind a dressing screen of some thin material, amber as the desk's lampshade and sporting painted grape vines at the corners. She switched on a light which threw her shadow against the screen. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I won't be a moment."

Debra and Eddie sat close together on the sofa. Cassie and Robert each took a wooden chair before the desk.

"I've called you four here because you're all falling behind." Behind the screen, Aster's own behind appeared in crisp silhouette as she stripped off her robe. She removed her leotard next. The sharp shadow on the screen displayed the shape of her protruding nipples even more than had the sheer garment. The scent of arousal came again, stronger this time.

"Frankly, if you don't participate tomorrow, you won't pass this class."

Cassie's entire family valued higher education. Her parents were alumni of this very institution. Her mother was an astronomer, her stepfather a medical doctor, and her stepbrother studied pre-med here. The thought of failing any class was mortifying. Cassie dropped her eyes from Aster's shapely silhouette.

She noticed Robert shifting in his seat. Sitting closer than she had in class, Cassie had a better view of the length squeezed down along his thigh. She could tell even through his trousers that Robert had been circumcised.

Their eyes met. He'd spotted her looking, she spotted him spotting it, and he spotted her spotting him spotting it. His face turned red. Cassie felt her own cheeks heating up as well. Robert placed his sketchbook over his lap, and Cassie forced herself to look elsewhere.

Behind the screen, the naked Ms. Aster was dabbing off sweat with a towel.

Cassie forced herself to look somewhere else.

From the sofa, Eddy had his own eyes stuck to the screen. Debra elbowed him in the ribs. She wasn't gentle about it. Eddy mouthed, "Ow! What?" Debra only frowned and glared at him.

"Are you all listening?"

Cassie turned her attention back to her teacher. Ms. Aster had peeked out from behind the screen. One of her nipples peeked out as well. The stiff crimson nub seemed to be rimmed by the same deep purple shade as the eyeshadow she favored.

Cassie heard herself answer the question, and heard the other students answer in unison, "Yes, Ms. Aster."

The teacher slipped back behind the screen. She placed one foot upon a stool, untied the ribbon of one ballet slipper, removed it, then repeated the action with the other foot. With each movement her bare breasts bounced. When she was completely undressed, she said, "For the most favorable grade you will have to do more than attend. You must model."

Cassie's heart beat faster. A question leapt to her mind. She wondered if she could voice it without betraying the mingled fear and excitement she felt.

Debra beat her to it, but with the tone of a spoiled child asked to perform an unsavory chore. "Model? Wearing what?"

Ms. Aster again donned her silk robe, and reappeared from behind the screen. She asked the group, "Have you ever heard of Nude Day?"

No one answered. Cassie had inside her the sensation of butterflies flying in dizzying spirals.

Aster seemed to take everyone's silence as a tacit no. "I am not surprised. This institution can be terribly conservative. Nude Day celebrations are not tolerated on campus. The dean equates them with drunken fraternity orgies."

Eddy the quarterback started to chuckle, then stifled it.

"I have convinced the dean to make an exception." Ms. Aster sat on the desk and crossed her legs, again displaying cleavage and thighs. She continued in a confidential tone. "The dean supports the arts, but in word only. I have persuaded him to allow nude models in class, yet I can not convince him to allocate the funds to pay model. Perhaps the payment could be credit for students who would otherwise fail."

Cassie swallowed, and spoke, "You want us to pose nude tomorrow." She thought she did a fair job of keeping the conflicting nervousness and eagerness from shaking her voice.

Ms. Aster gave the faintest Mona Lisa smile.

"Or else we fail," Debra complained. "That's blackmail."

Aster fixed her violet eyes on Debra. "It is an opportunity to succeed. As your instructor, I can not compel you to go unclad any more than I could compel you to complete your work. The choice must always be yours. I can not make you do anything you do not wish to do."

That last sentence struck Cassie as familiar. In the next moment, she placed it. It was something she'd read about hypnotism. Even when compared with the rest of Aster's fantastic form, her eyes might have been the most hypnotic thing about her.

Cassie made herself look away from Ms. Aster. For the first time she noted the wall across from the desk. On either side of the door through which they'd all entered hung paintings of a nude women.

"I wouldn't ask you to do more than I would do myself," Aster said.

Cassie recognized the woman in the paintings as Ms. Aster herself.

At the sound of a metallic squeak, Cassie looked back toward the instructor.

Ms. Aster had stepped deftly onto the leather chair. The wheels did not roll out from under her as she employed the chair as a stepping stool. Her next step brought her to the top of the desk. The ceiling was just high enough that she wouldn't bump her head. "I will be the first to model. Both for the arts and in honor of Nude Day, I shall pose unclad, like so." She let the red silk robe slip off her shoulders and down her form to pool around her feet on the desk. She planted her fists on her hips and stood proud as statue.

There weren't just butterflies in Cassie's stomach. Now there were hummingbirds.

Eddy said, "All right!"

Debra said, "Oh my god."

As Robert gazed up, the hair again fell back from his face. He licked his lips.

Aster asked the group, "Can I count on you?"

For a moment, no one spoke.

Finally someone gave a yes. It was Cassie. She'd wanted to, but hadn't been certain she had the courage.

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