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Jackson Pollock painting above

Come Monday morning, Mia still had troubles walking straight. She could still feel the slight soreness of her latest 'inspiration-session' with Eli, even though it had been over two days since it happened.

God, she silently thought in her head. She couldn't even get herself to call it anything but an 'inspiration-session', because honestly, she didn't know what it was. Eli used the word sex, and she had expected fucking like they had in that studio the first time, but this time had been different. Sure, it had been fast, wild and furious, but it had also been about more than just climaxing and making her scream – but then again, it hadn't been about making love either, that was also completely certain.

Mia couldn't explain it. Eli had been as raw as he was the first time, but just more... explorative. He had trailed his hands over her body, used his mouth in and on places she didn't even know she had or knew could feel so good. There were a lot of things you could criticize him for; being a vandalizer, a criminal, an arrogant, stupid, chauvinistic simpleton with a mouth and mind dirtier than a sink full of seven-day-old thanksgiving utensils – but when it came to pleasuring a woman to the brink of docility, you had nothing on him. He could shut you up with just his eyes and then proceed to make you cūm, just by exhaling on your skin.

Yup. Mia had gotten it good, which was why walking and especially sitting on the hard, wooden stool in her art class was a real pain in the ass – literally. But other than getting the ōrgasms of her life, she had also gotten what she needed to continue her drawing. Maybe even finish it.

"Mia, I rarely curse since I find it diminishes my learning of appropriate ways to express myself, but I'm going to make an exception just this one time," Valenches said, observing her art. "This is fucking brilliant – genius, I might even go as far as to say. However, I still think it needs a little something. I can't put my finger on it, but then again, that's your job to do," He said and gave her reassuring smile. "I'm just here to encourage you and correct you."

"Thank you," Mia replied, returning his smile, nervously.

"Alright, with that said, let's pack it up, class," Valenches then said and turned to the rest of his students. "Next Monday I want you to have read up on Jackson Pollock. We'll be studying his work and seeing if we can find order in his chaotic work, yeah? Great job today, guys! Off to lunch with you."

Mia happily wiped her fingers from the grease smudges from her pencils and begun setting aside her easel. She hadn't forgotten about her and Valenches little deal, so while everyone scurried off to enjoy their much needed lunch, Mia stayed behind to clean up the studio. It was incredible just how much a bunch of young adults could actually mess up one studio in just three hours.

Artistic minds were never organized, Mia thought, knowing just how bad she was at staying organized herself. She begun cleaning up and was nearly done when a voice from the door suddenly spoke and startled her.

"Why are you doing my job?"

Mia whipped around, and of course, she already knew it was him. Nevertheless, her pulse rose as he stepped inside, wearing his usual navy janitor suit and reversed cap. She suspected he did so to keep the focus off the tattoos on his neck and skull – laying low, as you were.

Mia quickly took a nervous breath and then continued what she was doing. "My art professor Valenches found out about what we did and promised to keep it secret if I made up for it. This is my punishment for being caught doing something I shouldn't have done – with a person I shouldn't have done it with."

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