Continuing Education

[chanaud]

Kelly

I was pleased to see Gavin's face light up as he saw me sneak through the backdoor. The knowing smile he gave me formed another wave of warmness between my legs. My mind starting wandering, recalling the events in his office last Friday, missing the little exchange between Gavin and Leandra.

A soft spoken voice woke me from my reverie. I had to crane my neck to listen to the thoughtful words of Adrian. How refreshing, I thought. Those are my exact thoughts. I must remember to try to be friendly with him.

 

[BadForm]

Recuerde Martinez

I shook my head slightly at Adrian's words, trying to avoid the sneer I knew tended formed on my mouth when someone said something I considered beneath them.

"Environment? Sure, I can tell you 'bout environment. Ever tried being black? No? Didn't think so. How about growing up in a hispanic family where your mom doesn't even speak English? No? I have, both. Yeah, that's right - I hadda teach myself English. An' as you can see, I don't exactly fit in with what men want from a woman in the way I look."

I adjusted my powerful six-foot-nine frame to make the point.

"Oh, and if you're wondering, I was the one who was raped by her brother. So, yeah, I can tell you about environment. An' what I can tell you about it is if you don't say screw it, IT will screw YOU.

"No offence... Adrian wasn't it...? but people let their environment use them, and others excuse it. If you wanna live, you gotta be you - not those around you. Nothin' has to matter 'cept what you want an' what you know you are. Besides, people blame the environment right up till the environment breaks into their house an' steals the stereo - then suddenly it's the individual..."

I fell quiet, knowing I had probably said more than I should have. Still, what could happen at worst? I wasn't going to fail, and I could carry a C in a bullshit class like this.


OOC: BTW, small point, it's Recuerde (as in the command form), not Recuerda (as in third person present).

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

The period continued with lively discussion. I was relieved that it wasn't taking a heavy hand on my part to keep it going. I preferred that everyone form relationships with each other, as well as me. They needed peer exchange, and it seemed like most of them were getting into it.

Kelly and I continued to eye each other, acutely aware that in a short time we would be meeting again. I was as nervous as a school boy wondering what she was feeling, and remembering what she had felt like.

As the dialogue slowed down I interjected, "I certainly don't want to stop this discussion. This is perfect, an open exchange of ideas. And honestly, there is no right or wrong -- we're all coming into this with our own unique persepctives, AND having the balls to share them with others, not all of whom will understand them. This is the essence of good writing, the uninhibited ability to be 'you'. But I did want to let you know what your next assignment is. It may sound like a piece of cake compared to the last one, but if you sink your teeth into it, you may find it surprisingly hard." No, hard was what I was every time I looked over at Kelly.

"I want you each to think about someone who pisses you off. And then I want you to write about doing something nice for them. That's it, simple concept. Go to work on it."

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

The new assignment was a more traditional one, solid in all the technicalities of teaching someone to write through practice, although it certainly didn’t get as big a rise out of the class as the last one had. I thought about it, but there was no distinct enemy that came to mind for me to turn my pent up demons into angels of giving for.

“Professor, could you give us an example?”

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

"Sure, Leandra, tho, of course, it's not quite the same done verbally," I felt a tear welling up just thinking about the example that had actually inspired the assignment. It was an emotionally charged one, and I had hoped that many of my new students would be able to reach deep within themselves to find something similar.

"Just before my wife's accident five years ago, my best friend had an affair with her. I found out the night before she died. I was crushed, I hated him more than I thought I was capable of hating anyone. Ironically I didn't feel the same way about my wife, who had been a willing participant herself. I made all sorts of excuses for her, and plowed all of my rage into Frank's field. Our friendship was ruined, and we haven't spoke since. I've had a long time to reflect on it, and I know now how unfair I was, and I know, too, that his words of regret were sincere, tho at the time I wouldn't even hear them." I had to stop for a moment as I felt myself losing composure. I had long ago gotten over my wife's death, and even my friend's betrayal. But the pain I felt at having lost my best friend was still open and raw, unresolved, and my voice was shaking almost uncontrollably from it.

"Tomorrow I'm taking him a dozen long stem white roses. They were Kimmy's favorite," I added knowing they all would wonder why I would take flowers to a guy. "He'll understand the significance. Oh, and a bottle of Jack Daniels, his personal favorite, and we're going to put the past behind us. Your story can be as different from that as night and day. Find your own place with it. And as always, if you can't find something that follows the theme, write anyway, about anything."

 

[chanaud]

His last words, once again, made my heart thump madly. This man never seemed to amaze me. But I did worry a bit with this assignment. I'm not a hateful person, but a face did appear in my thoughts. Someone, hidden deep in the back of my mind. Someone, I had hoped to forget.

Again, I looked at the clock. Why isn't it moving?

Gavin glanced at the clock too. But his attention was constantly being called by one question after another.

 

[chanaud]

Kelly

His last words, once again, made my heart thump madly. This man never seize to amaze me.

But I did worry a bit with this assignment. I'm not a hateful person, but a face did appear in my thoughts. Someone, hidden deep in the back of my mind. Someone, I had hoped to forget.

Again, I looked at the clock. Why isn't it moving?

Gavin glanced at the clock too. But his attention was constantly being called by one question after another.

 

[Guest]

Kathryn - "Kat"

OOC: Kat - Transfer student - 48 - Former lingerie model, recently having taken on the role of editing the fashion/makeup section of a startup women's magazine, dearly in need of writing skills. Stylish, good physical form, busty, curvaceous legs but carrying some professional battle wounds

IC: The classroom was very quiet as I entered, obviously having been just given an assignment. Most were quietly writing in their journals, some with unfocused gazes, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

Having met with the professor the previous day, he knew I was coming. Having finished in the front office just moments before, I entered and handed him my transfer paperwork and the previous assignment, having stayed up all night completing it. I didn't want to be too far behind the others. He spoke quietly with me, catching me up on the new assignment and I headed for one of the empty seats towards the middle of the room. I felt as if all eyes were on me as I made my way.

That morning, I had chosen a form-fitting short sweater dress with Victorian long sleeves with deep V neckline, and on my feet spiked boots, both in my signature color of deep teal green. It set off my blue green eyes and auburn hair. At 5'9" the added heels made me appear close to 6' tall, and the sweater dress accentuated my bustline. I now regretted the choice seeing mostly younger faces in the room. Still, I held my head up as if a bank of photographers were clicking away.

I sat at the desk and pondered the new assignment, still lingering in the words of the previous one:

My first contact with sexual awareness began at the not-too tender age of 16. I had discovered boys with a vengeance several years earlier but had not drawn any attention. I was so tall, taller than most children my own age, especially the boys, and lanky, all arms and legs. I had always been attractive but in an awkward kind of way. Not until puberty did I begin attracting boys. I blossomed in all the right places, more so in the bust. Overnight, I was one of the most popular girls in my class.

The story of my life, always in the spotlight. To many it seemed glamorous but the life had left me spent, wounded, few close acquaintances, let alone friends. This new job was a rebirth of sorts, a chance to gain some self respect.

Write about someone who pisses me off. Wow, so many to choose from, so little writing space. I chuckled to myself. Still, some of those wounds were too fresh to reawaken for long. Who to write about...

 

[LipstickKitten]

Kat

OOC: <sigh> Wish I could get the hang of signing in. I AM Kat up there.

 

[BadForm]

Recuerde Martinez

Someone I hate? The list could be endless. My brother, first and foremost. My mother, for not stopping him, for being to dim to know what he was going to do. The judge who put Steff and Beeni in the facilities. Sure, it worked for us to have them there, they were a great route to both product, money and info from and to the inside, but I still hated him. And so the list could go on. Hate is a valuable tool, and I am more than happy to use its blade. No, the problem here was not going to be identifying someone I hate. The problem was that this jackass wanted us to write about doing something GOOD for them - and somehow I didn't think he'd count removing them from the Earth as a good thing...

 

[LipstickKitten]

Kat

As I sat at the desk and contemplated the assignment, my gaze went out the window and into the clouds, turning to a soft focus.

Well, someone that pissed me off and that I could possibly do something about was the first photographer I'd met. I was 17 and had been picked up by a modeling agency specializing in teen models. Perhaps I could write about him

Gerard was my first photographer and was superb at his profession. He treated me with respect and taught me a great deal about how to react to the camera, what looked good from me, how the camera "saw," as it were. He made me a better model. It wasn't that occasion that pissed me off, though. It was many months later, with quite a few ads under my belt. We were on location in the Arizona desert shooting a Wranglerette ad. The Wrangler Jeans Company was staking a lot on me and it was a tremendous opportunity.

I was dressed in a pair of skin tight black jeans, black spiked-heeled boots, a black kerchief, a black cowboy hat and nothing else. I had my back to the camera, one leg bent with my weight on the other, half turned looking over my left shoulder directly at the camera. My right arm was reached around my left shoulder, my index finger crooked sort of showing a gesture of "Come here, big boy," while my left hand was cupped over my ass. I had a pouty, seductive expression on my face and you could just barely make out the curve of a breast.

This was the ad that started my career skyrocketing. Sales shot through the roof and I was a star overnight. Gerard happened to be the photographer that day and on my next assignment as well. It was that assignment that almost ended my new career. It was for a perfume. I was dressed in a red velvet suit reminiscent of Santa Claus complete with Santa hat but looking like a Playboy Bunny. I was having trouble becoming seductive, so Gerard offered me some champagne to loosen me up. After 2 or 3 glasses I was very loose and the shoot ended successfully. As everyone disappeared, Gerard handed me another glass of champagne saying it would be a shame to waste it. So we each downed another glass. Needless to say, I was quite tipsy and the hot lights from the shoot had made me drowsy.

Gerard put his arm around my bare shoulders, caressing my back and neck and whispering lovely words into my ear which got me fairly aroused. I turned to him and we kissed. It was very passionate. His arms went around me and unzipped the skimpy suit I wore and it fell to the floor. I was naked except for the Santa hat, fishnet stocking and high heels. He began kissing my breasts, sucking my nipples and roaming his hands down to my mound. I was so aroused and enjoying it, I let him continue.

The next thing I knew we were lying on the white fur rug that was there for the ad and he was pleasuring me with his tongue, slurping up my hot juices, making me squirm in delight. Unbeknownst to me, he was videotaping the entire scene as he pulled out his engorged penis and began penetrating me. I was a virgin and his manner was extremely rough, causing a great deal of pain, making me cry out, digging my nails into his shoulders, drawing blood. This caused him great excitement and he continued pounding into me. The pain was so fierce I passed out.

I awoke in the dressing room, alone, and feeling very soiled and violated. I ached from my breasts to my pelvis. I slowly dressed and went home to a long shower and some aspirin for my head.

Weeks later, I learned that Gerard had made copies of the videotape and had distributed them to his photographer friends and many others in the business. The media got ahold of the story and bad press abounded. It was nearly the end of my career. It would have been had he not done the same thing to another rising model.

To say I was bitter for a long time is an understatement. I was angry, hurt, violated, abused, yet felt I'd had it coming as I'd encouraged him. It wasn't until years and years later that I found out that his wicked ways had landed him in prison where he'd been raped by his cellmates, contracting AIDS. He now lies in a hospice in East St. Louis, dieing. I feel compassion for the man who viciously took my virginity in a way I had not thought possible. I would like to go to him and confront him, but to tell him I forgive him, not to Lord his illness over him.

I couldn't believe how the words poured out onto the paper. Class had ended, the students had left the classroom, and yet I wrote and wrote. The professor didn't bother me and it was 45 minutes after the end of the class that I finished, tears streaming down my cheeks.

I looked up, stunned that it was only he and I left in the room. His tender look surprised me, a genuine look of concern as I gathered up my ledger.

I cleared my throat and said, "Is it all right to turn this in now? I know it's not due yet but I'm afraid if I take it from this room, I'll chicken out and not turn it in."

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

The hour flew by with many twists and turns, Recuerde's admission, and the ensuing discussions, Kelly's glances, Kat's arrival. It was hard to keep up, and I was thrilled that these students were getting so involved, not only with the work, but with each other. As the class ended, Kat came forward, and Kelly lingered outside the room, waiting for our meeting but trying not to be too obvious about it.

"Kat," I looked at her warmly, aware that something more was going on, "you're writing is excellent. What? You have tomorrow's assignment already? Well, I guess you must love to write. This is good." Why was she staring at me like that? She leaned forward further accentuating the teal plunge between her breasts and she started to speak, but hesitated.

 

[LipstickKitten]

Kat

As I dried the tears from my face, I found myself staring at Gavin. I realized how much he reminded me of my first true love and my heart fluttered. I bent over and was about to say something when I realized his gaze had shifted to my now erect nipples protruding through my clothes. In bending over to hand him the ledger, my arm pressed into my body causing my cleavage to deepen. I glanced down and saw what he saw and gasped, "Oh, my. I'm SO sorry." I quickly stood up and began to turn to the door.

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

Kat's embarassment propelled her towards the door. "It's okay," I tried to reassure her, "I have a feeling you're going to fit in quite well here, Kat." She flushed anew and hurried out the door, but I thought I would being 'seeing' more of this one.

I picked up her newest submission and started reading.

 

[LipstickKitten]

Kat

Oh, I was so embarrassed, practically flashing the professor. Yet, in its own way it was exciting.

As she made her way off campus to her office, she contemplated the journal she would write in away from the classroom. Well, I'll just have to make time for that, too. It is an easy way to keep track of one's stray thoughts.

She boarded the train leading downtown to her office building and hurried in, just catching the elevator before the door closed. She was pleased with the hustle and bustle that awaited her. She had phoned her secretary while walking from the subway and was handed a sheaf of papers as she exited the elevator. Among them were telephone messages, artwork layouts and article rewrites. Well, I'll certainly have something to write about in my journal tonight!

She adjusted her outfit as she caught her boss' eyes travelling up and down in an intoxicating way. Hmm, could be more there than meets the eye, too. Oh, little journal, I have a feeling you're going to be very full indeed.

She smiled invitingly and winked saucily at him as she headed to her office, giving orders to her secretary.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

I lingered after class, hoping to catch a few words with Adrian to make up for my brisk disappearance yesterday. Assuming I had missed him, I abandoned my fruitless search, instead deciding to seek out Gavin.

I wanted to ask for his opinion, as a fellow writer and unbiased reader, on a piece of poetry I had written a while ago, found recently, and was in the middle of revising. Waiting until the woman, also one of his students, left his office and giving her a smile as we passed in the hall, I rapped lightly on the tempered glass before easing his door open.

“Professor…Am I interrupting?”

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

Engrossed in my reading, I almost didn't hear the tapping at my door. I couldn't see who it was until the door swung open, and there was Leandra. “Professor…Am I interrupting?”

"No, no, of course not, Leandra. Come on in. I was hoping we'd get to chat. Classtime flies by without being able to give each student the time they deserve, so I try to spend lots of time being available to those who have questions. You're very talented, you know?"

She seemed slightly embarrassed at the compliment, and I searched for clues as to her needs. "What can I do for you, Leandra?"

 

[LipstickKitten]

Kat

Arriving home after work, she poured herself a glass of Merlot/Cab and waited for her dinner to finish cooking. She reflected on the day. Very emotional at school; very encouraging at work. Not a bad day after all.

Doug certainly knows how to charm new employees. For a boss, he wasn't so bad after all. Great body, good looking, funny. A little too young, but, hey, you can't win 'em all.

Looking at her watch, she sees she still has 20 minutes till her dinner should be checked, so she pulls out her journal.

Doug - My boss. 32, 6'2", 225 maybe? Hard to tell but evident he works out. Robin's egg blue eyes, California blond hair. Broad shoulders, rock hard ass. Love a hard ass. Very fun to look at. Invited me out for drinks after work. I told him I had a writing assignment but could manage the time for one drink. He chuckled but accepted. Went to a very exclusive club. He probably knows the owners because we sat at a VERY private table, secluded, overlooking the skyline. Beautiful view. As was he. Good thing this is my personal journal.

<Sigh> What a shame she couldn't stay longer. She had a feeling she'd have awakened in his bed. Too bad, too. He made it very apparent that he wanted to get to know her better, caressing her arm, looking deeply into her eyes. Drat having to leave so soon.

[Ding ding ding] went her timer. Oh, well, time for dinner. I'll have to wear something very seductive to work tomorrow. Mmm, that tight-fitting sweater dress should do nicely. Shows every curve. She chuckled wickedly as she headed for the kitchen.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

Shutting the door behind me, I moved to stand by his desk. Gavin’s compliments meant a lot of me, for the time we had spent together in class I could tell he was someone from whom true praise did not flow freely. Praise that I was definitely willing to work for.

“I was wondering if you could give me your thoughts on this. It was written three and a half years ago, to someone at the time who I was, if not in love, then certainly in lust with. I found it the other day in a box of my writings and ramblings and it struck a cord with me, but it’s still missing something…”

I smoothed the piece of off-white paper that I set before him, my handwriting flowing in the navy blue ink of the pen I preferred to write with, hoping it was laudable and up to his standards.

Poseidinion Delights

footprints
in the sugar sand
two sets (both bare)
leading to a patch
of unscarred shoreline
a blank canvas

the lap of his waves
finding my smooth cove
nestled between the dunes
still and waiting
for the tug of the sea
on my unblemished shores

i cry out,
with the delight of a child
discovering a perfect spiral conch
half buried in the sand

the persistent grace of his tides
ebb and flow
flow and ebb

prowesses of a albatross
diving for it's struggling prey
captive of the waters

the gulls mournful cries
echo
ours of Poseidinion delights

my perfectly molded sand castle
crumbles
beneath the crash of his waves

white caps break my placid surface
filling me with his salt water kisses
and in a scuffle of sand
he catches me in his riptide
pulling me under

as we drown together

footprints
in the sugar sand
two sets (both bare)
leading away from
indentations
of our once prone
entrapped bodies
claw marks
sear the barren beach

a fight to the death
evident

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

Leandra came in, closing the door behind her, seeking my thoughts on some of her poetry. I was struck by the grace with which she moved, slightly self-consciously, but with an odd combination of style and animal instinct. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties, and obviously took care of herself without being obsessed or pretentious about her looks. She made me feel comfortable immediately, setting before me what proved to be some excellent work despite her insecurities. I read it through twice before commenting.

"Leandra, this is wonderful. I love the way you walk between two worlds here, never totally sure if we're talking landscape or bodyscape. Great images. There's probably places where you'll rework it, but that's pretty normal. Poetry, writing of any sort, I think is meant to be a living, breathing, changing creature." I stopped, not wanted to overdo my praise, genuine as it was. I was aware of my own penchant for excess.

She seemed appreciative. "What, if I may probe, did you mean by 'a fight to the death'? Is that the struggle between love and lust?" She stood close by me now, and I could feel a tension between us that I had been oblivious to before, a pleasant but disconcerting sort of tension.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

“Love and lust…him and me…the constant power struggle between us…or even as broad as the worldly battle of good vs. evil. It’s up to the reader to decide how to interpret it, even if their vision is half an ocean away from what I originally intended.”

I set my books down on the empty chair near his desk, opting to stand rather than sit. It took a lot to make me blush, but his praise nearly did it. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I offered him a soft smile. One-on-one in a confined environment, Gavin was quite a bit more intimidating than I had first appraised. Without the rest of the class acting as my audience, I felt an unnatural, and decidedly uncharacteristic shyness set in.

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

She smiled softly at my praise, obviously shy, and I hesitated about going on, but I had been wanting to tell her since she handed in her first assignment. "Leandra, I've read through your journal work over and over. It's beautiful, the images are so alive in your writing. You have a gift. You probably don't notice it, take it for granted, because it's always been with you. But most of the others cannot make words sing like you do."

She blushed again, and buried her head in her hands. I reached over and tried to comfort her, lifting her chin a bit so I could see her eyes. "Shhhh, it's okay. I surely don't want to make you uncomfortable." She was trembling, and I was clueless what was going through her head, what had wrought her emotions so. It couldn't be my faint praise. Instinctively I pulled her quivering body to me, and wrapped her in my arms, petting the back of her head like I would a baby waking from a bad dream. I stroked her long dark hair trailing down her slender back, and soon she relaxed. We stood like that in silence for a few moments. I slowly became aware that something had changed between us, and an awkwardness began to creep into my psyche.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

Reading the poem again stirred up a lot of stormy waters for me, and remembering exactly who I wrote it for made it even worse. The man who I was naïve enough to think I was in love with…even dreamed I was going to marry. Since him, I still hadn’t totally regained my footing. Sure, I had a lot of one night stands along the way, and an attempt or two at a so-called “healthy relationship,” but the immaturity of men my age was staggering.

Pulling back from Gavin’s embrace, I hated to have him see me falter, for even a moment. Brushing it off as lightly as I could, I turned my back to him, examining the prestigious awards and numerous diplomas that graced his walls. In the middle hung a picture of Gavin, far younger, yes, but still recognizable, with a woman in his arms.

Smiling as if I knew a naughty secret I shouldn’t, I looked over my shoulder at him.

“Who is she, Gavin? The girl in the picture.”

 

[TheOlderGuy]

Gavin

"Ohhhh . . ." I stopped, sighed, regathered my strength, "that's Kimmy. I spoke of her in my story earlier. She was a saint, well, no . . . I guess she wasn't, but she was to me. I was quite a lot older than her, almost fifteen years, but we had quite a run together. I miss her. Don't know if I'll ever love like that again. I never blamed her for carrying on with Frank. Funny, isn't it, what our minds will do to adjust the truth for love? But you don't need to hear all that. You just asked a simple question. That's Kimmy."

I stopped, looking down for a moment to shake away the sadness. It had been a while since I had let that creep into my daily life. I knew it wasn't gone, not ever would be, but I had learned to manage it far better than in the first years after her death. I felt Leandra drawing closer.

 

[Mistress Jorja]

Leandra

Smiling quietly to myself at Gavin’s tentative advances, despite his obvious hurt over Kimmy, I sat on his desk, glancing at the decorative adornments. I wasn’t blind to the way he looked at me – it was the way a man looks at a woman, not a mentor’s casual assessment of their pupil.

Admiring the diplomas, I felt his eyes still on me, and a tenseness in the air, like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn’t muster the nerve to.

“You do realized there are boundaries, Gavin? Black and white. No gray areas here.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t find myself attracted to him, but more the fact that despite my age, this was still a student/teacher relationship. Anything I did now might come back to haunt me in during the rest of the class days, and awkward moments were not when I kept my cool best.