Well, in my last year of high school, I had a crush on Jenna, and every time she called on me, my heart would explode in my chest. She had wavy dark hair, a perfect hourglass figure, and killer legs. Man, I loved it when she walked into class in a skirt and high heels. I’d always imagine what kind of bra she was wearing. Leopard skin? Lace? What about panties? Did she wear thongs? Or maybe she was extra naughty and went commando. And when I went to bed at night, all I dreamed about was kissing her and touching her breasts.
So the day she sat at my bar, and she made it damn obvious she was into me too, I decided to ask her if she’d pose for a sculpture I was working on. I had another lifecasting project due in my art class, and Jenna had the perfect body for what I had in mind. Would she go for it? She wasn’t my teacher anymore, so she shouldn’t have any reservations. I had to convince her, and somehow I didn’t think it would be too difficult.
If you want to hear the hot, steamy details, read “Art of Desire.”
Helena Harker, author: “Art of Desire” was a lot of fun to write, and I was thrilled when Ellora’s Cave accepted it. My idea was to have a teacher (Jenna) run into her former student (Justin) one day, a student she had a major crush on, and decide to make her fantasies a reality. To spice things up, I made the student an Art major who asked her to pose nude for a lifecasting assignment. As a result, I had to do a lot of research involving the lifecasting process, so I watched a lot of videos and learned all about how to apply alginate to a model.
I wanted Justin to turn the tables on Jenna. She’s been fantasizing about Justin for a year, and now she can finally let her cougar roar and go after him! But Justin has other plans. He wants to teach her about taking it slow, about being patient, and when she’s trapped in the alginate mold, it’s the perfect opportunity to make Jenna hunger for more without giving it to her right away.
To get a better idea of what I’m talking about—from the pros of lifecasting—here’s a link to a couple of videos that show you exactly how the process works.
And here is a link to a gallery of sculptures, so you can see the end result.
About the author:
Helena Harker is a teacher by day, writer by night, a daydreamer who loves to escape to other worlds. Her fiction is populated by strong men, passionate women and lots of paranormal creatures. In her free time she enjoys photography and curling up with a good book. She is multi-published and also writes in other genres.
Ellora’s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/art-of-desire.html
When Jenna runs into a former student she used to have a crush on, she decides to make her lusty fantasies a reality. Justin is studying Fine Arts in university, and when he asks Jenna to pose nude for a sculpture, her inner cougar tells her to go for it. But while Jenna can’t wait to teach him how to pleasure an older woman, Justin turns the tables and decides to teach her the art of patience.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine, and shivers of recognition danced through me.
I hadn’t seen him in a year, but it felt like only days. As gorgeous as ever, Justin arched his brows in surprise, giving me a shy smile before pouring red wine into two long-stemmed glasses.
So he worked as a bartender in a hotel restaurant. Maybe I’d ask him for a Sex on the Beach or better yet, a Screaming Orgasm. I grinned. Still eyeing his dirty-blond hair, neatly trimmed beard and square jaw—God, I’d love to trail my fingers along that jaw—I walked to the bar, swept my short ruffled skirt under me and sat down. Long, black hair fell past my shoulders. I tucked a few strands behind my ear, glad I’d taken extra time this morning to apply Bold Bordeaux, my favorite shade of lipstick, and matching eye shadow.
Hey, scrumptious, I wanted to say, but opted for a more acceptable, “Hi, Justin, how have you been?” My teeth snagged on my lower lip, and butterflies came alive in my stomach. Why the hell was I this nervous?
Because he’s half your age, my conscience snapped. And in case you’ve forgotten, he’s your student.
Former student, my inner cougar growled back. He graduated last June, remember?
“Hi, Mrs. Fall—”
“Jenna!” I corrected him. No need for formalities, especially since they reminded me of my age. “I’m not your teacher anymore.”
“Jenna,” he said slowly, savoring every syllable as it rolled off his tongue. He returned the bottle to its shelf and offered me the wine list. “Great to see you. I’m going to the University of Montreal now. I started a massage therapy program last summer, but I quit. Needed something more intellectually stimulating.”
Oh I could stimulate you in all kinds of ways, the cougar inside me purred.