Lost in Light Read Online Free PDF Page B

next click brought a smattering of murmurs and giggles from the class as Duval’s classic rendition of Venus was replaced by an entrancing black and white photograph of a woman. Her eyes were covered by what looked like a black scarf, one hand cupping a full breast while the other lay curled over her privates. It obviously resembled Duval’s Venus, but held a subtle sensuousness that the original couldn’t even begin to touch. I found myself mesmerized by the simple portrait, the stark line of the blindfold bisecting her face tugged at something in the pit my stomach, making me squirm in my seat.
    Another click and we were looking at ‘Seated Gladiator’ by Drouais. Click. A muscular African American man posed in a chair, one hand draped over his knee while the other rested atop a motorcycle helmet, while the light accentuated each muscle in his chest and stomach. For several minutes Professor Davis cycled through the slides, alternating between classical pieces that many of us easily recognized, and modern nudes that had obviously been shot to resemble their classical inspiration. Once or twice I thought I noticed the same models in some of the photographs but couldn’t be sure as my mind began to swirl with the sensual images.
    As class progressed I found myself becoming lost in his voice and the images displayed. Each glance in my direction sent the thrill of excitement down into my core, causing me to shift restlessly in my seat. It had to be obvious that he was staring at me. Each time he advanced the slides to focus on another modern nude he fixed me in place with a penetrating gaze, and yet everyone around me seemed to be as disinterested as usual. Couldn’t they see that he was speaking directly to me when he was telling us to take note of the light hitting the swell of the woman’s breast, or the way that the model was arched in supplication? Couldn’t they tell that his words and the images he was showing us were driving me to distraction?
    Shrugging out of my woolen cardigan in an attempt to alleviate the heat pooling in my stomach, I was reaching for the top button of my shirt when his eye caught mine. I felt breathless when the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. My fingers fumbled with the button as something deep inside me clenched almost painfully, and I felt a sudden surge of warmth and moisture between my legs. The slow arch of his brow ratcheted up the heat coursing through my veins, and sent a spear of arousal straight down into my sex.
    Gasping aloud I quickly covered my exhalation with a cough as I glanced around anxiously at my oblivious classmates. Feeling my face heat all the way up to the roots of my equally red hair at his amused smirk, I quickly rebuttoned my shirt, and smoothed the fabric to erase several imaginary wrinkles. Continuing to smile knowingly he went on with the lecture, the smooth cadence of his voice easing my frazzled nerves.
    After a while my mind began to wander and I found myself pondering what would have happened if I had left my shirt unbuttoned, or had even more daringly released another button. Would he have watched my trembling fingers with unabashed fascination and hunger as I slowly revealed my breasts? A thread of excitement shot through me as I imagined those cool green eyes watching me intently, his tongue licking his lips slowly as I opened my shirt for him, exposing my naked breasts while my nipples stiffened under his watchful gaze.
    I leaned back in my seat as I let my shirt fall open, my knees parting just enough to grant him an unrestricted view of the inside of my thighs beneath the fall of my skirt. I could smell the musky scent of my own arousal rising from between my legs, intensified by the eddying air currents when the heating system kicked on. Warm air flowed across my bare breasts, erasing the chill from my skin but doing nothing to ease the tautness of my nipples.
    The rest of the room melted away into a hazy fog. Nothing existed but