Looking back on the choices he didn't make. Sex Images

Student flirts with her teacher when his wife is away.

There's nothing else, promise."

I crossed over and held out my arms, and she came to me, and we hugged. Nothing sexual, nothing but reconnecting. It was perfect, or so I thought at the time.

"OK, thanks - sorry I'm such a suspicious bastard," I offered.

"Accepted. Sorry I didn't make it clearer when I first mentioned it. I said it in passing, and I may even have subconsciously meant to sneak it by. Anyway, it's fun. I sort of like it when there's a naked guy around, and I'll bet you sort of like it when there's a naked female around. Oh, and don't worry - if there's a choice, be sure I'll pick that naked male to be you, every time."

More talk ensued, but the meat of it was that she'd mentioned in passing that they were segueing from still life to live modeling. Adele got them started with "Bishop," - his last name I supposed used as a moniker - ostensibly a college student who came and took off all his clothes and sat, or stood, absolutely still, for long periods of time, and then left. He was gorgeous, all the ladies agreed, and there was nothing else going on, Sharon assured me.

She did describe how the sessions went. Bishop would come in, Adele would dictate a pose for him to take - nothing very athletic since he'd be holding it for some time. The one I'd seen was pretty much the Donatello "David" statue, minus the hat. Cocky and exposed, one hand on hip, one hand on sword - a big one - with Goliath slain at his feet. The process was that Bishop would assume the pose, then the ladies would walk around him for 5 minutes or so, checking him out so to speak, then they'd position their easels where they wanted to get the view they'd chosen, or where Adele told them to, and then they'd sketch for about 10 minutes, followed by a break and different pose, more sketching, and so forth until the hour of posing was up.

"Uh, back to the checking him out part?"

"Annette says that's the best part of the class, but she's such an out-there type - you never know what she'll come up with next. In a good way - I like her, but she does tend to make comments and tease a little unless Adele puts a stop to it. Just silly stuff like, "Aren't you cold?" or "Is the air conditioner turned down too low, or is that normal for you?" - I about died when she said that to Bishop last week - he's got nothing to indicate shrinkage, but she was teasing him anyway, until Adele got us busy, that is." OK, so Annette's talking dirty to a naked guy - no wonder he's getting bigger! And Sharon's aware and just bystanding, or was this a group project?

Knowing it would really, really show me as a paranoid asshole if I pursued that line of thought with her, I buckled, and for all intents and purposes, I bought it. Accordingly, with no maneuvering room, I agreed to his coming to my - er, um, OUR - house, and exposing himself again, the next week. I spent considerable time in the next several days thinking about that damned big dick, huge though it wasn't, but bigger and bigger in my imagination. For a while, I almost convinced myself it really didn't matter to me, and then I convinced myself I was merely self-delusional.

Finally, the day of the modelling session came, and our plan was that I was just going to stay the hell out of the way, that she would host the class, and that while I'd be at home, I'd be out of sight, never involved. I hoped that my presence in the house would put my mind at ease and that it would keep anything from going awry. Realizing I wasn't exactly wholly cool with things, Sharon was treating me as a petulant child, and I was ok with that for the time being. I just wanted to be assured.

And so, wanting to be assured, I planted, without Sharon's knowledge, of course, spy cameras sequestered in the upper book cases of the living room, on timers to download to my laptop.