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Making a good impression with my work for Professor Turner is key to winning a spot in the student art show. Because of this, Foster now consumes many of my thoughts, day and night…and in the early morning hours.
Setting the bag near my feet, I log in to the computer and begin the process of checking in the returns. There aren’t many, but the night is young.
When Foster finishes helping out one last student, he rotates in his chair. “How was your day, dear?” he asks, teasing.
“It was fine, sweet stuff,” I respond, turning in my seat toward him. “Busy as hell, as usual. And yours?”
“The same.” He rests his elbows on his knees. “Why does it seem like I haven’t seen you in forever?”
“It’s all your fault. I told you that you needed to give up some of your activities if you wanted to have a social life.”
“Are you schooling me?” he asks, adjusting his dark frames.
“Possibly.”
“Do you want to maybe…get social with me tonight?”
I purse my lips. “Possibly.” I grin. “Maybe.” My smile widens. “Highly likely.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Fair enough.”
I scoot my chair under the desk and open up the application to check in the pile of books to my right.
“I was hoping to talk to you about something,” I say, pulling over the top volume from the stack.
“What’s that?” he asks, back to work and clicking his mouse.
“It’s about a project I’m doing. It’s kind of a big one.”
“Need help with more explosions?”
“No. Actually…” I pause, trying to formulate the right way to phrase what I’m about to say without sounding too needy. “Do you remember when I…painted you?”
His hand stills, and so does the rest of his body. “Sure,” he responds in a low tone. “I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever forget.”
“Yeah.” I chew on my bottom lip. “Um…well, there’s this assignment for my art theory class, and I was planning on doing something like that.”
Foster drops his hands to his thighs. “Okay…so, you’re planning to paint someone for an art assignment. Interesting.”
“No, not that part.” I rest an elbow on the desk, adjusting my posture to give him my full attention. “I want to show the inner beauty of man through the vision of science. Kind of like what you and I were talking about but as an installation, and I was hoping that you would help me with it—if you have time, of course.”
“What do you need from me? More time with my shirt off?”
“Shirts can be optional.” I smirk. “But I was hoping you could answer some questions for me—”
“Of course. No problem.”
“And…I was hoping, maybe you would model for me, too?”
He gives me a you’re-pushing-the-envelope-but-I’m-going-to-say-yes-anyhow look. “Don’t you think that skirts over the line of our friendship a little?”
“And your dick in me doesn’t?”
“Yeah…” he drawls, running a hand through his bronzed hair. “That bit of insertion might be, uh…testing some boundaries. We do have sort of a special friendship.”
“Exactly. So, why not do me this favor as a special kind of friend and model for me?” I bat my eyes like one of those idiots with pouty ruby lips in the movies. “Pretty please? I’ll give you a cock smooch.”
“Who am I to say no to an offer like that?” Foster tightens his mouth, unsuccessfully trying not to show his enjoyment. “Fine, I’ll model for you. And just so you know, I would have said yes, even without the cock smooch.”
“Maybe that’s more for me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be the guy who takes away from your enjoyment.”
