For several years, as she taught various first-year classes, the first day of school was always a combination of fear, dread, curiosity, hopefulness, and hopelessness. And these were just for her. She knew her students felt the same way.

This year, of course, was no different as she watched the children shuffle into her classroom.

Each year, she would try to pick out the ones who would do great without any help, the ones who would do great with a bit of nudging, the ones who would work hard but not do that great, the ones who practically needed their hands held, the heads, the constant skippers, and the troublemakers.

That is not to say that there were no categories in between. However, most students usually fall into those categories. After all these years, she became pretty good at this guessing game, to the point now that she was rarely wrong.

And, each year, she would pick out a student who, in her mind, needed exceptional watching, whether for good or for bad.

One of the girls immediately caught her eye for some reason.

When the girl entered the classroom, she looked as though she wished she were invisible – and dressed that way. Wearing all black, she wore a button-down shirt that was five sizes too big for her, along with a pair of work pants of the same size, held together by a black belt. A black knit winter hat was pulled down tight on her head, covering all of her forehead and forcing her dark hair over her eyes.

The girl did not sit in the corner, but instead chose a spot near the back, near the side, so she was somewhat surrounded yet alone. One of the desks beside her remained unoccupied.

Her eyes downcast, the girl took her seat, quickly opening her notebook and doodling in it as the other students filed in.

On the roll call, Ms. Phillips found her name to be Janine. On answering her name, she did it with hesitation and very quietly, but loud enough for her answer not to be repeated. Cindy Phillips was not at all surprised that Janine did not raise her hand once during class, though she did spend a lot of time taking notes.

For the first three weeks, things went relatively smoothly. Yes, there were a couple of troublemakers – but Ms. Phillips proved quite apt at handling them immediately, many times to the extent that trouble never came from those students again. She was never violent or mean with them; she was stern enough to cause fear.

Never once did Janine raise her hand to ask a question or answer; most of the time, she focused on writing in her notebook. When she was called upon, her answers were always quiet and correct.

A couple of early school-year quizzes proved to Ms. Phillips that Janine was no dummy. She had not thought so. Most of the time, she was the first to put her pencil down after the quiz, then to focus again on her notebook.

During quizzes, Ms. Phillips tended to pace the room, rather than sit at her desk. This not only helped her get her daily step goals, but also helped her make sure there was no cheating going on.

Finally, one day, her curiosity got the best of her, so she timed her walk past Janine’s test after Janine had finished the quiz, once again being one of the first students done.

Cindy’s eyes quickly fluttered over the notebook page, which she saw was covered with elaborate drawings, detailed, semi-realistic in some areas, very realistic in others, some even grotesque.

Unknowingly, she had paused beside Janine’s drawings, gawking at them, when she heard the girl softly clear her desk and move to close the notebook, muttering a “sorry.”

When Cindy graded Janine’s quiz – another perfect score – she wrote at the bottom, “Your art is quite good. Keep at it!”

A soft, shy smile appeared on Janine’s face when she got the quiz and read the note, her face visibly reddening.

But, seconds later, she was back at it.

After a week, some of the artwork began appearing on Janine’s homework and quizzes. Cindy continued posting positive comments on her artwork.

Still more curious, Cindy decided to take a step she rarely had taken before: she checked out Janine’s social media page in hopes of seeing more of her artwork.

She was not disappointed with numerous artworks featured on all her social media pages. Rarely did Janine post anything about herself or the world around her, mainly focusing on her artwork.

Again, the works were beautiful and sometimes grotesque, but always fascinating. Creatures impossible to imagine were thrown into nightmarish landscapes, where human figures fought them or were consumed.

One day, she came across an age verification page, controlled by one of Janine’s aliases. With her curiosity at its best, Cindy paid the fee and took a look at the page.

To her surprise, here the artwork was more exotic, more erotic. Scantily clad women felt monsters only Janine could imagine. Some of the artworks were even more lewd, with the creatures sexually molesting the women, and the women enjoying the attention.

Cindy Phillips, despite herself, found herself becoming very aroused at the artwork. As she looked further, she found some straight-up erotic works, as women pleasured themselves or two women would pleasure each other.

Cindy found an air of familiarity around the characters, recognizing some resemblance to other girls in class, as well as a strong resemblance to Janine herself.

At another point, she came across a drawing showing a character who looked a whole lot like Janine fingering another character to what appeared to be orgasm. Cindy let out a small breath, realizing the other character drew a strong resemblance to herself.

She had already given thumbs up to several of the more erotic drawings. This time, she fought herself for a while before posting “Simply lovely” and leaving it at that.

When Janine sneaked into the classroom the next day, her eyes quickly darted to Cindy Phillips at her desk, a small, shy smile spreading across her face before it turned deep red as she took her seat.

When class ended that day, Janine nervously approached the desk.

“Thank you for the comment on my page,” she said quickly and quietly, before spinning on her heels to walk away.

Before Janine had a chance to dart away the next day, Cindy softly put her hand on her shoulder. “If you ever need any help, in any way, please let me know. You are incredibly talented and have the chance to become very successful at this.”

Janine smiled, reddened, then quickly exited the classroom.

Cindy hoped she had not crossed a line but found her fears unfounded when Janine put two large notebooks on her desk the next day.

“I did these, there is a story in them, I hope you like them,” she said quickly and quietly before leaving the room.

It was the weekend, so Cindy had the opportunity to review the notebooks thoroughly.

The story was terrific, imaginative, and energetic. It told the story of two warrior women who fought side by side, defeating creatures of unimaginable horror in landscapes beyond the imagination of many. Cindy was engrossed in the story, slowly turning each page to take in the beauty of the artwork, while also wanting to turn the pages quickly to catch up on the story.

Once again, she noticed a strong resemblance to herself and Janine in those two main characters. And, of course, neither of the women wore much clothing during their adventures.

A ribbon, a note attached, bound the second notebook: “Please, do not be offended by these next pictures. They are fantasies of mine, but I would never do anything in real life to purposely hurt anyone. I hope you will enjoy them, though, from the comments you’ve left on my page, I believe you already do. These are explicit and are from the heart <3.”

Cindy took the ribbon off.

Inside, the story continued. But by now, the monsters had been defeated. Now, the women made love.

Pages upon pages were filled with explicit artwork like Cindy had never seen before, in almost perfect detail. Tenderly on those pages, the women made love, no detail left to the imagination as fingers, tongues, and toys were used on each other to bring each other to the ultimate pleasure.

Propping the notebooks against a pile of sheets, Cindy lay back, pleasuring herself to the images.

One proved too much, as Janine’s character lovingly licked Cindy’s character, the wet pleasure of both girls very evident. Cindy’s orgasm hit her hard, causing her to squirt a little bit of wetness on her sheets and a little bit on the notepad.

Groaning to herself, Cindy opened the pad so that only that page received the watermark, letting it dry overnight. She handed it back to Janine the next day with a large smile and an apology.

“It was such a good story; I was unable to contain myself.”

Janine reddened deeply.

That night, Cindy had a deep, thought-provoking conversation with herself.

She had not been in a faithful romantic relationship for many, many years. She had grown quite lonely. It had been several months since she had made love, even though the last few times had been rather disappointing and unfulfilling.

Meanwhile, she had always maintained a very professional and respectable identity at school. Never once had anyone suspected her true sexual orientation, nor had she ever given any hints. It was no business but her own and her lovers.

Meanwhile, all of her previous relationships had been with women her age or younger. She had felt a stronger attraction to those women and felt more comfortable.

Never once had she thought or had a fantasy about having sex with a student. Why, the moral ethics would have destroyed her career: Not only would she be having sex with an underage girl, but a student. Stories had been written about this. None of them had ever come out well.

Meanwhile, Janine possessed a spectacular talent, not only an artistic one, but also a storytelling one, and a talent for erotic. Her orgasm the night before had been true.

She had also found the girl strangely attractive. She had the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, even if hidden by her bangs. Her smile could light up a room, even if it were rarely shown. Even though Janine always wore very baggy clothes, Cindy could tell she was a skinny little girl, like many other girls at 14. One day, Cindy thought to herself that the girl would become a pure knockout.

But the thoughts of morality were much too great. She could get fired. She could get arrested.

She sighed and opened Janine’s pay page, ready to delete her more risqué comments, when she saw a message awaiting her.

“Hey ... could you message me at...” with her email address attached.

Cindy gulped and nodded to herself. Perhaps this would be a better approach; maybe she could tell her in real-time and let the girl down gently. Or, maybe Janine was going to let her know that it WAS all fantasy, and she had no attraction to Cindy.

She shot off a quick email, and an invite to a video chat came back.

Cindy sighed. Okay, maybe it would be easier on a video chat. She accepted.

A visibly nervous Janine’s face filled the screen, her black knit cap still pulling her hair over her darting eyes. A quick smile covered her face when she saw Cindy.

“I didn’t think you would come,” Janine said.

Cindy nodded. “I almost did not. But I thought it was best I should. Listen, I wanted to say...”

“Can I come over and draw you? Tonight?”

“Sure,” Cindy said without thinking, kicking herself just as the words left her mouth. She paused, getting ready to correct herself, but “Sure” came out again.

Janine grinned. ‘K. I will be over in a little bit.”

A shy knock came at her door about a half hour later.

Cindy opened the door to a slouching, shy-looking Janine artist pad and pencils in hand. Janine’s face brightened when the door opened. “I didn’t know if you meant it!” she said somewhat cheerfully.

Cindy nodded and let the girl in, wondering to herself what the hell she had gotten herself into.

Janine reached around the side of the door and grabbed an easel, bringing it inside. “I like real light,” Janine said, her eyes darting around. She nodded at the porch. “Still got some sunlight. Wanna go out there?”

Cindy nodded, leading her to the porch.

“How do you want me to pose?” Cindy asked, hoping the nervousness was not showing in her voice.”

“Just do what you always do at this time. Read a book, look at your phone, watch TV. I want the first ones to be real.”

Cindy smiled and nodded, reclining on a wicker seat as she grabbed her tablet and turned it to the latest novel she had been reading. “Is this good?” she asked, feeling relieved that Janine had asked for a real-life pose.

Janine, taking a nearby seat, set up her easel and notepad, smiled, and nodded, quickly getting to work.

Every few minutes, she would turn the page, asking Cindy to reposition herself.

“We can go to some other places in the house and do some everyday stuff, if you want,” Janine said.

Cindy smiled and nodded. “Around now is when I start making myself some supper.”

“You don’t order out?” Janine asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

Cindy shook her head.

“Then do that! That would be great!” Janine said with genuine excitement in her voice.

Cindy smiled and began working in the kitchen after Janine pulled up a chair and set up her easel and pad again.

Cindy decided that a meal for two would be the best option, preparing a pasta dish she loved and hoping Janine would enjoy.

“That smells great, Ms. Phillips,” Janine said at one point.

Cindy smiled and continued working.

She had noticed that Janine had dressed a little differently. Her clothes were all black, as usual, and she still had the knit black hat pulled tightly over her head. She also wore a black sleeveless T-shirt, along with a fine mesh top underneath (also black). She also wore a black skirt, along with dark hose. The large clomping work boots she also wore still covered her feet. Cindy could not help but notice that Janine had a very lithe body, and the girl even showed signs of working out.

As she cooked, Janine frequently drew and turned the pages.

When the cooking was done, the two sat at the table to the feast, exchanging small talk.

“When did you realize you only liked other girls?” Janine blurted out at one point.

Cindy’s eyebrows shot up. She had a lot of self-pride in keeping her sexual orientation unknown. “How do you know I am a lesbian?” Cindy asked.

Janine blushed a little bit. “I ... kinda assumed. Never said anything to anyone else, but I hardly talk to anyone, so that’s easy.” She shrugged, taking another bite. “Plus, you know, it takes one to know one.”

It was Cindy’s turn to blush a little. “I had suspected you might be a lesbian, but I did not know for sure,” she said with a reassuring smile.

Janine smiled back. “Never told anyone. Not their business. I know there are a couple of other girls who are, or at least I think they are.” She shrugged. “Never found them attractive, though. Not like you.” She immediately reddened at that remark.

Cindy chuckled. “Thank you, Janine, and that is very sweet of you to say.”

Janine reddened further, looking deep into her dish while shoving food into her mouth. “Would you ever be with anyone like me?” she asked suddenly.

Cindy felt herself get redder. “Janine, you are one of the prettiest girls I know. And one of the smartest, may I add. And you certainly seem very sweet ... I’ll cut to the chase and say that you’re a catch – any woman would be happy to be with you. But ... in my position...”

Janine blinked and nodded. “I know. You could get in a lot of trouble. Seen some stories about that stuff.” She blinked several more times quickly. Cindy was afraid she might break down and cry.

The two ate in silence for a while. “I would never do anything to get you in trouble, Ms. Phillips.”

Cindy smiled. “I know you wouldn’t. And please call me Cindy.”

Janine beamed at this. “OK, Cindy. I think ... I think you are beautiful,” she said quickly.

Cindy smiled and blushed. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

They finished their meal, and Cindy and Janine cleaned up, leaving the kitchen spotless.

“Can I draw you some more?” Janine asked.

“Of course you can!” Cindy said. “What did you have in mind?”

“More real-life stuff. Like what you do after supper.”

“I usually start getting ready for bed, a lot of times I will read some more in bed, or grade homework or tests if I have any.”

“We had homework today!” Janine said. “You could do that!”

Cindy nodded.

Janine smiled and bit her lower lip. “I mean, I assume you don’t wear your work clothes to bed...”

Cindy smiled softly and shook her head. “I have a nightshirt,” she said.

Janine continued smiling and nodded. “OK. Well ... if you are comfortable...”

Cindy smiled; her brain was more than a little confused. “Yes, OK,” she said.

“I can wear a nightshirt, too, if that makes you feel more comfortable!” Janine said, reaching into her backpack. “Got one here.”

Cindy chuckled. “If you wish. I will be right back.”

Cindy changed into her nightshirt in the bathroom, choosing one that fell to about the midpoint of her thigh. When she exited the bathroom, she found, to her surprise, that Janine was in a black nightshirt, but was surprised at how short it was. The girl was setting up her easel and pad with her back to Cindy. Cindy could see quite a bit of hint of the bottom of the girl’s butt.