Ms. Robinson has a problem.

Becky Robinson started worrying about her Honors Art class from the minute Vicky Hunter’s personal porn scene screeched out over the loudspeaker. Talk about a total lack of professionalism! Becky would never have jeopardized her reputation for a fling with a student, no matter how big his cock might have seemed to Vicky’s lust-fogged mind (thirteen inches? Ha! No way did Becky believe that, not even for a second).

Sex was just a dangerous distraction, and any working woman who thought otherwise was never going to go very far. Becky Robinson wasn’t even thirty yet, and she had already established herself as a promising up-and-coming young artist, plus she’d secured this steady teaching job to pay the bills as her art slowly gained her more and more attention. Sure, she’d had a few boyfriends here and there, but if the relationships ever started to interfere with what was truly important in her life, she didn’t waste any more time on them. Her art was what really mattered. Becky figured that even a woman like Vicky Hunter would soon find out the price you paid for sexual dalliances.

So even though “thick-as-a-coke-can” Paul was in her Honors Art class, Becky hoped she could establish some control over the group and prevent Paul from being a distraction. She figured he’d be pretty full of himself now that the whole school knew that he’d just seduced the principal, but Becky wasn’t going to be intimidated. As soon as she walked into the room, she was already giving instructions. “Class, pull out some sketching paper and a good quality pencil. We’re going to work on our textured drawing of still objects today.”

Nothing. No reaction. It was like the class wasn’t even aware that she’d spoken. Actually, not the whole class--Paul was obediently setting up his paper and pencil, as though completely oblivious to the roiling sea of female lust that surrounded him. It was clear he wasn’t faking, either. Becky found herself rapidly rethinking what must have happened in Vicky Hunter’s office, given Paul’s obvious cluelessness.

But she couldn’t just teach a class to Paul, though he certainly could have used the extra work, and she took herself far too seriously to admit defeat. Snapping her fingers at a sudden idea, Becky decided to meet the class halfway. “We’re going to be drawing the human form today, so we’ll need a volunteer,” she told the group. “Is anyone willing to pose for us, for a big chunk of extra credit?”

Before the distracted girls in the class could even react, Paul’s hand shot into the air. As she’d expected, Paul was worried enough about his grade in the class that he jumped at the chance for extra credit. As she prepared to change her lesson plan on the fly, Becky Robinson found herself thinking that Paul was either the most clever young man she’d ever taught, or by far the most naïve.