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Her sneakers hit the running trail at a steady pace.
“Pace yourself Korra, you’re supposed to lead me today,” Kuvira jested, one of her lips corners rising when she heard Korra huff out a breath.
“I am-” Korra paused, huffing, “-Pacing myself-”
Kuvira shook her head to herself whilst she trailed, it became clear to her that Korra was not pacing herself. This always happened, she expected it. The bulkier of the pair, panting and gassed 20 minutes into their run, never knew how to properly pace them for their jogs they’d go on in the early morning. This exact scenario was how the two became friends. Kuvira, herself, never had the pacing issue. She was an avid runner and found Korra gasping and panting into the side of a tree one morning, her curious eyes worked themselves over the other woman.
She saw the power in her build, but figured with the extra weight that Korra just didn’t know how to pace herself properly with all that added muscle.
And still hadn’t learned to, evidently.
“Let’s take a break,” Kuvira called out and halted her stride, flowing into a walking pace seamlessly.
Green gaze followed Korra and her less-than-graceful attempt to stop running. Almost collapsing into a heap in the middle of the trail, her hands fell to her knees, chest heaving with ferocity.
“Paced yourself huh?”
“Oh fuck off,”
Kuvira laughed at the interaction.
Allowing Korra some time to catch her breath, Kuvira opted for stretching her muscles, wanting to stay warm as they had merely paused in their morning jog.
“How are your classes so far?” Kuvira wasn’t anticipating the question from Korra’s lips.
Leaning down to touch her toes, she pondered it for a moment. “It’s been okay, the school’s too big though,”
A bit of disgust etched alongside her words. Her tame nature is a bit too slow and boring for the city-wide university. Things just happening everywhere, it overwhelmed her. Everyone was so damn friendly too- so. damn. friendly. Kuvira didn’t care for small talk or looking approachable when she left her apartment. All she cared about was getting where she needed to go and continuing on with her studies.
Apparently, that made her rude.
She didn’t care that much about it, just knew her limits and behaved accordingly.
“Well, I knew that, you hermit-” By that point, Korra’s out-of-breath voice had mostly dissipated, Kuvira wincing as her friend playfully punched her in the arm.
Kuvira rubbed the spot with an overly sympathetic pout on her face, it made Korra roll her eyes.
“But, nothing exciting in your classes? Not at all?” She listened to Korra’s skeptical tone, it was clear her friend was digging for information.
She weighed the options in her head. Kuvira, admittedly, wasn’t quite good at this. Friendship, companionship, she’d mostly been a one-woman-show her entire life. Having someone genuinely invested in her well-being and her life, was… different. She figured, however, it wouldn’t hurt, to be honest.
“Well, one of my classes has been… interesting,” Her words were calm, but she saw Korra’s eyebrow quirk upward.
It was a silent gesture for her to continue, so Kuvira did.
“I’m not used to painting people, in general. I prefer landscapes, it’s less personal that way. But, the subjects we paint in this class, are- well-” Kuvira blushed, the graphic memories flooding her mind.
“They’re… what?” Korra’s genuine confusion made Kuvira want to scream.
She hadn’t wanted to say it, but her friend’s unconscious pigheadedness made her have to.
“They’re nude, they pose nude. It’s good to have accurate depictions of anatomy. So, we paint people who pose in the nude,” Kuvira released a sigh of relief after the words were out.
Then, she started to squirm under Korra’s gaze.
Her friend’s inquisitive blue eyes were, at first, shocked. Then mischievous. Kuvira knew that she’d be mocked even before Korra’s mouth opened to make the remark.
“Now why is that such a bad thing? Aren’t you gay?” Korra’s tone was sardonic, but playful, it was the only thing saving her from triggering genuine anger from Kuvira.
The artist sighed, rolling her eyes so hard she’d thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head.
“It’s not about the sexual nature, it should be natural. It’s normal, I’m aware. I’m just- not used to seeing people… naked,” Kuvira softly uttered the last word, practically a whisper.
It was a half-truth. She omitted the part of her that was the real cause of her discomfort. Her anatomy between her legs was the bane of her existence in that class. She couldn’t just be turned on like the others who were affected, especially the women. No- if Kuvira became aroused? She wouldn’t get wet, she’d get hard- fast. It’s the main reason why her paintings in the course were so incomplete by the end of the allotted time, Kuvira would be too busy controlling her cock between her thighs, willing herself not to get aroused. It was hard work to escape mentally, as she stared at a naked body, oftentimes in more titillating positions than she deemed necessary. However, she’d managed it for the first few weeks of the semester by the skin of her teeth. Though, Kuvira could admit to herself, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she’d have an accident.
It just wasn’t fair to her at times. She’d always felt a disconnect from her mind to her cock, they were often playing opposites of each other, rather than being on the same team. Being in that class, the showing of anatomy, of true beauty- it had Kuvira shifting in her seat, crossing her legs, hoping and praying that no one was paying too close to her. She had scraped by enough times but had the feeling it was only a matter of time before her luck ran out.
“Well, at least it’s something you’ll get used to,” Korra’s casual tone pulled Kuvira from her reverie.
Kuvira shrugged, scrunching her face in disagreement for a moment before relaxing. She reminded herself that her and Korra were very different people, with very different values. Kuvira also reminded herself that Korra wasn’t privy to her “little” friend between her legs, she felt relieved when her face softened and that Korra hadn’t noticed the irritation flashing across her feature in the first place.
“I suppose, just gotta survive the class,” She played it cool. Kuvira laughing a bit to ease the mood and Korra followed.
Her gaze followed Korra stretching on the side of the trail, finally seeming to recover from their pause in their run. A roguish smile grew on her lips. “Ready to actually lead me this time?”
All she got was a middle finger as a response.
~~~~~
20 minutes early.
That’s what Kuvira needed in order to be adequately prepared for all of her classes. She picked her routes meticulously beforehand, finding the best streets to take in order to optimize her time. Because she arrived so early, she quickly deduced her favorite spot in her courses, including the one she was currently in. It was the class she dreaded; a thought niggled at the back of her mind curious as to who would be the nude model they’d draw for the allotted time. She pushed the thought aside and focused.
The art studio was large and open, it had an industrial style for the interior design. Splashes of blacks, deep drowns, and grays colored Kuvira’s sight. She sat obediently at her easel, positioned right in front of the wide mirrors the studio had. One of the things about the city Kuvira actually enjoyed was the way sunlight reflected into open spaces. It was to be a sunny day and Kuvira’s spot in the class, in front of the mirror, gave her an excellent vantage point to the stage.
The student’s easels were organized in a half-circle around the stage, giving each student a different vantage point of the subject they’d be drawing. Kuvira found, with the seat she selected, that this was her favorite out of all the ones she’d previously occupied.
Anxiety crept up Kuvira’s spine, sitting firmly like a devil on her shoulder. She huffed out a few breaths, routinely checking her watch and becoming increasingly frustrated by the leisurely way time seemed to pass. Kuvira fought her hands when they began to shake as the few first students found their way into the studio around 7 minutes early for class.
Eventually, the room filled, and Kuvira drew into herself. She avoided eye contact, opting for adjusting her drawing pencils on her easel for the umpteenth time. She adjusted, and adjusted, and adjusted- her fingers scraping over the feeling of the wood in her hands, she squeezed the utensils tightly, shutting her eyes and attempting to clear her mind.
Her breaths blew out slowly when she opened her lids and found her professor on the stage.
She hardly paid the man any attention, tuning him out for the most part, until the words that made her ears burn left his lips.
“... Please give your biggest thanks to our model for class this week- Asami Sato,”
In her anxiety-filled haze, Kuvira hadn’t even noticed the woman sitting in the back of the studio.
Her head turned to look at her fully and Kuvira almost snapped the pencil in her hands in half.
Tall. Very, extremely, Kuvira noticed. Asami was still clad in a tasteful pink robe, but it stopped just short of mid-thigh. All the legs that were on display her greedy gaze raked over. She looked at Asami like she was a cold glass of water and Kuvira had just trekked through the Sahara desert. She looked ravenously, starved- then it dawned on her that Kuvira would have to keep looking at her. She had to look, to understand her body, everything about her anatomy. That was what was expected of her. Kuvira was scanning, analyzing, absolutely violating Asami with her gaze.
Asami cleared her throat to speak, “Hi everyone! As we’ll be getting very comfortable with each other soon-”
The class paused to laugh at her joke- Kuvira remained silent.
“-I will let you all know if I need a break, to stretch my legs, scratch my ass or something-”
She paused, the class laughed again. Kuvira remained silent.
“-But, I’m a pretty bubbly person, so I may talk to you all as you draw, obviously though, let me know if you need to focus and I’ll shut my mouth,” Asami stopped speaking, flashing a bright smile as she raised her hand to wave.
Then her gaze locked with Kuvira’s.
The force of it felt like a battering ram to the artist. Such an innocent look, at least- she’d hoped her gaze upon Asami came off as innocent. She knew her thoughts were anything but that already. Kuvira could see from her distance away that the woman’s eyes were green, vibrancy contrasting with her complexion and the darkened state of her hair. She was exquisite. Everything in Kuvira felt like it was on edge, ready to fragment at any moment.
Then the gaze was dropped.
Kuvira almost swore to herself that she saw Asami smirk.
She adjusted on her stool, eyeing her easel. Kuvira shook off the after-effects of the gaze, wanting to focus on drawing the woman, and in her adjustment, she felt the exact thing she wanted to avoid. She looked down, seeing her erection between her legs and almost having the gall to be surprised by its intrusion. Kuvira cleared her throat, adjusted, hoped it'd go away, and let her Professor’s voice drill into her ears some more.
In her peripheral, Asami approached the stage. She ditched her sandals and padded over barefoot. Asami was closer to Kuvira’s side of the stage and in the artist’s spot- the light hit Asami perfectly. Kuvira almost cursed herself at choosing such a pristine vantage point, never knowing that very attribute of hers would come back to haunt her.
Kuvira’s heartbeat felt like it was in her throat when she spotted Asami toying with the clasp of her robe. She stopped walking right before the lip of the stage, her back was to Kuvira. Hungry green eyes watched the material of the robe shift, shake, then fall.
The ringing in Kuvira’s ears muted whatever conversation began in the room.
Gorgeous, smooth-looking skin was revealed. Kuvira knew it was soft to the touch, her hands itched, and they ached to feel her. Such breathtaking legs, Kuvira’s eyes almost bulged seeing the toned nature of her thighs, strong quadriceps that were superior to even more spectacular calves. Her eyes trailed higher, she felt like such a horny, teenage boy at the way she ogled Asami’s ass but she just couldn’t help it. Kuvira felt overwhelmed by the urge to trace her fingers down her back, so much of that gorgeous skin on display, dotted with a few freckles here and there- Kuvira just knew she was soft. Asami was so tall, imposing, by the faint lines of muscles she saw on the skin, she could tell the woman worked hard on her body- curiosity inside of her wondered how her body felt, how it tasted.
Asami turned, facing Kuvira’s side of the room, and she rose onto the stage. Asami tried a few positions with the stool on the stage, finding one she was comfortable in.
Their gazes locking again sent another electric shock through Kuvira.
She kicked herself into high gear and nearly knocked over the easel in haste. Kuvira just needed to draw something. Taking her pencil in her left hand, she began sketching.
Kuvira finally let her eyes rest on Asami’s breasts, she had held herself back from looking at that specific part of the woman thus far. The reasoning for her restraint was clear in the presence of her erection between her thighs- Kuvira found, with time and focus, that she was able to successfully distract herself. Staring blatantly, with only a bit of shame, she found that Asami’s chest was definitely heavier than her own, a small constellation of freckles and a mole on her skin making the artist appreciate her stunning anatomy further. Once more, Asami’s breasts looked so… soft. The light brown nipples and striking complexion that were only complemented further by the light from her window, her beauty was on a different frontier. Kuvira wouldn’t often use this word, but she found herself sketching the tits and finding them absolutely mouthwatering.
Over time, her drawing developed, and the artist was not half-mad at the progress, but another problem quickly arose.
In order to draw, Kuvira had to look, and she unintentionally began this tortuous game of peekaboo with the model. It seemed that every time her head darted around her easel, to gather more information, find the right angles for the contours of her body, or the correct way to shade her- Asami was looking right at her.
In fact, to Kuvira’s eyes, Asami almost seemed amused.
The first few passes were innocent enough. She actually had a reason to look, her more perverted side Kuvira decided to beat into submission inside of her own psyche. She just needed to focus on the task at hand, not make a precarious situation even worse. Kuvira drew Asami’s stomach- or rather, the set of tight, impressive, abdominal muscles that Asami had. The light from the window caught her perfectly, it invigorated the artist- she understood at that moment why others chose to draw people. Kuvira became enthralled at the next opportunity to look at her, to see more, she felt that craving rising, innocent thoughts crossing back into that threshold of wickedness and filth.
It seemed, the minute her thoughts reverted back into plain deviancy, is when Asami’s gaze upon her shifted. The more Kuvira drew, the more she peeked, and the more she saw Asami leering down at her from the stage. Leering in a such curious way. Kuvira could’ve sworn it was her guilty conscience, berating her for turning an academic event into something sick and twisted- but, to her, it seemed to be mirth in the way Asami chose to leer at her.
The game felt very cat-and-mouse, and even though Kuvira was the one with the pencil in her hand, memorizing all the curves and details of Asami’s body… she didn’t feel in charge, not even in the slightest.
Asami was chatting with the rest of the students as well. Well- not Kuvira, but it was because Kuvira never spoke in any class, or it was an extreme rarity. She definitely wouldn’t dare utter a word right now, especially with a beautiful woman naked leering down at her like she was a toy she wanted to play with for a while.
But, it was the fact Asami was speaking so casually as she looked at Kuvira that made the artist’s skin crawl. The model, admittedly charming, extroverted, bubbly- everything desirable, chose to set her sights on Kuvira. As much as Kuvira wanted to deny it, Asami hadn’t moved from her vantage point, keeping her body in the light leaking from her window, everything shaping up so her drawing could be the best it’d be.
As Kuvira leaned back, eyes glancing over her work, she found it was more than adequate. A little sense of pride swelled in her chest at her ability to maintain her composure despite the odds. She felt her confidence rise and allowed herself to relax for the time being. Once more, from her peripheral, she spotted movement. Asami had shifted, not much, but just enough that it made Kuvira gulp.
She almost wanted to applaud the model.
It was subtle.
Kuvira saw it though.
Asami parted her legs ever so slightly, revealing her most intimate region to Kuvira.
It wasn’t as if Kuvira couldn’t see her… intimates before. Asami’s positioning on the stool previously hadn’t given the artist the best vantage point, which wasn’t something that necessarily bothered her beforehand.
But now… Kuvira could see. She had to look.
Kuvira looked at Asami, then looked down, seeing trimmed hair and delicious pinkness between her thighs. A divine-looking pussy that Kuvira only dreamed of tasting and having for herself, she had half the mind to sink to her knees and crawl between Asami’s thigh at that very moment. Kuvira daringly looked back up into the model’s green eyes and found them sparkling, that was all the confirmation Kuvira needed. Her head turned desperately back toward her easel, the memory of Asami’s cool smirk and devilish expression searing itself into her memory. Her erection, which had dissipated as Kuvira flew back into her work, came back in full force.
She wanted to groan at the magnitude of her arousal. It wasn’t just that she had a naked woman before her, who was stunning, and Kuvira wasn’t used to nudity in the slightest. It was the fact that the naked woman- Asami- was cunning, mischievous, and knew what she was doing to Kuvira. Kuvira knew she knew- Kuvira knew that Asami knew how badly she wanted her, how hard it was to stay glued to her seat, to not fist her cock in her hand and pump herself dry in front of her.
Kuvira’s cock in question, was straining against the material of her briefs in her pants. She felt herself throbbing, leaking, pulsating. The sensation maddening, the force of it all causing Kuvira to set her pencil down, effectively disrupting her work. She tried to stay sane, but her mind only went down the avenue shaped like Asami’s perfect ass and thighs. Kuvira wanted to gratify herself to the model, sink to her knees before her and offer the woman her cock. Like a humble servant wanting to please their Goddess, Kuvira knew she’d be devoted to that very cause. She wanted Asami to milk her dry, stroke her until she passed out- then wake her up and do it all over again. Kuvira wished she knew what it was like to be inside of her. To know the tight, wet, heat of that pussy. Kuvira could whimper internally to know what it was like to have her cock inside Asami’s pretty fucking mouth.
The artist planted her feet to either side of her stool, resting her shaky hands on her knees, and taking a moment to breathe. All she felt was the throbbing sensation, such a feeling that built and built. Kuvira wouldn’t risk a glance at Asami, not in this state- but she wondered just how pathetic she looked. Flustered, hands on her knees, hard as steel, in the middle of her class. She felt like her cock would going to stretch out her briefs at how hard it strained against the material.
Attempting to gain her composure, Kuvira turned back toward her easel, such a move that caused the material of her pants to shift. Shifting over her very sensitive, very aroused cock. Kuvira brought her palm towards her mouth and bit into the meaty party of it to avoid whimpering. Absolutely defeated, she looked at the model, who was the cause of the rampage of arousal and frustration she felt.
She wanted to sob when seeing the victorious grin on Asami’s face, an eyebrow cocking towards her direction. The model’s green gaze was on Kuvira’s face- until it wasn’t.
Asami looked lower.
Lower towards Kuvira’s…
The artist’s hand flew over her crotch, brushing more contact over her sensitive erection, which Kuvira immediately regretted. Her face flushed at how good the contact felt, her mouth gaping in a silent moan as her eyes rolled back quickly. She pulsated, feeling the stickiness of the precum leaking, if she wasn’t careful, she’d have a wet spot on her pants soon enough.
Kuvira panted, looking towards Asami again, who shifted further in her direction, leaning in ever so slightly. The artist realized she wanted to see.
Then, Asami, with a grin, mouthed “ Come on, ” towards Kuvira.
The artist paled, looking at her drawing of Asami, the curves, and beauty reflected in her artwork did nothing in comparison to the effect this woman had in reality. The lines she drew seemed trivial in comparison to the hypnotic effect of her. Kuvira felt like she were in a trance, Asami merely the puppetmaster behind her actions- rocking her to-and-fro, Kuvira simply doing her bidding.
Because when Kuvira looked up again and saw Asami mouth “ Finish for me, ” she let her hand pass over her clothed erection again.
She let it pass a time after that, Kuvira slowly, surely, definitively, jerked herself for this woman. Her face flushed, breaths came slowly, and she fought moan after moan, her hand becoming jerky with the motions. The pleasure built, her cock throbbed, insisting on release, on something, and then…
Kuvira’s hand flew over her mouth when it crested. Pleasure started off like a rocket, her nails dug into her palm, legs shaking through the affair, just hanging on for dear life. Kuvira’s eyes shut tightly, whispering curses to herself as it happened, and kept happening- Kuvira thought it’d never end. Her cock spasmed, shooting white ropes inside of her pants, the heat crescendoing until it stopped.
She’d just creamed herself, climaxed in public, for a woman she hardly knew.
It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her.
Kuvira rose abruptly, standing so quickly that she almost knocked her stool over in the process. She caught a few quizzical glances from her classmates and even the knowing smirk from the model still perched on the stage- Kuvira ignored it all and started walking. Her steps were shaky, but fast, she left the studio, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Her chest heaved with the weight of her actions, her body pressing against the solid wood of the door and wanting to just melt into a puddle. Her anxiety crawled back up her spine and found its way to her shoulder- singing its sweet song into Kuvira’s ears.
She rushed into the bathroom.
Slamming the stall door shut, the artist checked her watch, practically collapsing onto the toilet seat and panting.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid! ” Kuvira even let her voice raise with the last remark.
“Ugh! How could you do something so-” Kuvira paused, gathering the words, “-stupid, idiotic, and dumb- ”
Feeling her hands beginning to shake again, she squeezed her thighs, waiting for the feeling of her anxiety to quell. To try and mitigate some of the tension, her gaze rolled to her watch, and she realized she had left the studio 15 minutes before dismissal. There was a larger part of her that cared, she was a good student, and despite struggling in the class because of the nudity, there existed pieces of her that wished to save some face.
“Nope- no way, I am not showing my face in there again… at least not today,” Kuvira muttered the words to herself.
So she sat, in the bathroom. Kuvira mulled over her actions, bringing herself back to the moment, where she flung caution to the wind. She tried to remember what she felt… how it felt. A flush crawled up her neck at the remembrance, Kuvira shamefully realized that she liked that feeling. Whatever sinister emotions Asami summoned in her, Kuvira liked them all. There was a deeper, darker, sense of perversion to her actions and the shame Kuvira felt wasn’t just from her acting upon it, it also stemmed from the fact that given the same scenario- she wasn’t sure if she could make the right decision.
There was something about Asami that made Kuvira want to misbehave, to let her walls down, and act in a manner she’s never even entertained before. To say it was petrifying was a downplay and a disservice to the effect Asami had on her. Kuvira crafted her life, the manner in which she chooses to conduct herself with strict intentions. She’s never been an impulsive person, but to have her world turned upside down in a singular class period… It had her head spinning.
With her mind running at unclockable speeds, the 15 minutes she spent in the bathroom went by in a flash.
Slowly, Kuvira unlatched the lock on the stall door and exited.
She spared a quick glance at herself, seeing the remnants of her actions on her pants. Squeezing her eyes shut, Kuvira sighed and pulled at the sleeves of her flannel, wrapping the garment around her waist and proceeding back towards the studio.
The artist stood outside the room, she pressed a hand to the door, mentally battling on if she even wanted to head back inside- the risk of seeing someone she knew gnawing at her. Or even, seeing Asami- God, the thought made Kuvira want to vomit. But, she thought of her drawing utensils, how expensive they were, and how much she didn’t want to replace them- especially if she didn’t have to.
“Fuck me I guess…” Dejectedly, Kuvira pushed the door open.
To her insurmountable glee, the room was empty.
Kuvira hurried over to her previous station. She took a second to glance at the stage, memories of Asami standing there just a few moments prior flooding her mind, Kuvira had to physically shake her head from side to side in order for the thoughts to dissipate. Methodically, Kuvira packed up her things. Placing her pencils inside her drawing kit and then throwing her kit into her satchel.
Slipping back into the routine relaxed Kuvira’s nerves, the past hour bringing her onto a rollercoaster of emotions that she had no intention of riding again. In her haste, Kuvira almost didn’t take the chance to admire her drawing again.
Despite the circumstances, the work was the best she had produced in her time in the course. Even with the arousal, her nerves flaring like crazy, and how unhinged she felt- Asami was beautiful on the page. Kuvira pressed her fingertips to the easel, brushing over the finished lines and the woman in the drawing. In her analysis, she hadn’t noticed the note on the easel.
In the corner of the drawing, there was a singular sticky note.
Kuvira pulled it from the drawing, eyebrows knitting together immediately.
Her eyes almost fell from her head once she read.
Adorable. Just Adorable.
P.s. I preferred your drawing to anyone else in your class…
Call me sometime.
-Asami
Kuvira stared at the 10 digits before her. Incredulous, skeptical, bewildered.
“What the fuck?”
Kuvira stood there for a few more beats.
“What the actual fuck?”
She stood some more.
Then took out her phone and entered the digits to create a new contact.
With shaky thumbs, Kuvira drafted up a text.
Kuvira
Hey. Got your message. Totally hope this wasn’t a practical joke.
She waited and felt like her heart was hammering louder than humanly possible in her chest.
Then, Kuvira’s phone chimed. The new contact name appeared on the screen.
Asami
Oh, you’re cute… Nope, not a joke. I was actually wondering if you wanted to grab coffee with me- how about tomorrow?
“What the fuck?” Kuvira barked out, loudly.
What the fuck indeed.