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I think I like you better naked

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Korra sprinted up the steps to her university art class, practically tripping on the second to last step. She couldn’t be late to class again. By now there was no way she was escaping getting her ass chewed out by professor Beifong. Especially noting the fact that this had become a common occurrence due to class being scheduled for the early morning. 

 

A few people waved at her as she passed by, barely giving them the time of day, she arrived outside the door to her modern art class. Whipping open the door and rushing in. “Who in the- Korra! Do you care to explain why you’re late again? And when we have a special guest who took the time out of her day to help us create some pieces.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Professor Beifong, traffic was horrible.” She lied through her teeth. Walking over to her seat and sitting with her head down. Lin scoffed and let out a labored sigh. “Asami, I sincerely apologize for my students' lack of professionalism. Shall we continue with our lesson.”

 

“It’s really no problem, Lin, it happens to the best of us.” A sultry voice spoke.

 

Korra looked up, jaw going virtually slack, hand covering her mouth as subtlety as possible. There stood a woman, tall and slender in thin black underwear and a matching lace bra. Korra spared a glance to Bolin who seemed to be getting his things in order.

 

“Bolin.”

 

“Bo’.” Korra said through gritted teeth.

 

“What’s up, need a pencil or something?” He asked, oblivious to the internal battle Korra was facing.

 

“Never mind.” Korra nodded. The warmth was rising to her cheeks more and more by the minute.

 

“That sounds great. Class, you remember what we discussed earlier. You’ll get a few minutes to prep your materials and then we’ll set the timer. Asami, you can get into position whenever you feel comfortable.”

 

Asami smiled and nodded. Sparing a glance to Korra, who like an idiot, couldn’t look away. Not when those boyshorts were sliding down her thighs, when everything about this woman's lower half was bare for her to see. When two sets of eyes met each other again this woman, Asami, with one side of her lips upturned into a smirk slowed her movements. Stepping out of the boyshorts and setting them in a neat pile along with a button up and slacks.

 

Then arms reaching backwards, slowly working in tandem, as if she was performing. Unclipping her bra and letting it slide down her arms. Korra bit her lip hard, stifling a gasp and crossing her legs. Asami moved with purpose, hands dragging across the soft skin of her waist. An area Korra found herself wanting to touch. To taste. 

 

And still, Asami’s gaze had never left hers. That same smirk, still apparent. She found herself clenching her thighs as a warm feeling came over her. Of course this had to happen during class, Korra knew she had something of an interest towards women. Most of her college days so far had been spent exploring her own bisexuality. Nothing more than a kiss here and there from another woman. Now her sexual interests were staring her in the face, completely naked in front of her and clearly interested. Or at the very least, intrigued.

 

After a moment she managed to rip her attention from Asami and grabbed a sketchpad, pencil, and eraser from her bag. This was going to be a long class and one hell of an awakening. 

 

“Which pose would you like me to start with?” Asami asked. The professor hummed, tapping her pen on her desk for a moment. “How about the second one we talked about? With the hand gesture, They need to work on sketching minor body parts as well.”

 

Asami nodded, her back arched slightly forward, hip jutting out to accentuate her waist. Yet not so far that the position seemed or felt unnatural. One hand rested behind, gingerly cradling the upper nape of her neck. The other placed on her left breast,  two lithe fingers edging a pink nipple.

 

“Class.” Lin instructed. “You are to draw Asami from your side of the room as realistically as possible. There will be three different poses and thirty minutes alloted time to complete each piece. Your time starts now.”

 

Easy enough. She had already been staring Asami for enough time to complete a piece from memory. The woman in front of her was a work of art, in all senses of the phrase. Shaky hands brought a pencil to the paper as she started a rough sketch of Asami’s body. The curve of her waist, her breasts, her rear. The long expanse of her torso, and the soft line that went down the middle. Opting to ignore the thrumming between her legs at the sight of the woman before her.

 

Asami wasn’t hers. She knew that there was no claim to be made, and any interest returned was more than likely the imagination of a still sexually experimenting woman. Yet, she couldn’t help but notice that she was the only person Asami looked at with that gaze. Even when it did drift she seemed uninterested until they met again.

 

This was torture in every capacity and still the thought turned her on. Longing for what she knew was out of her league, the excitement that bubbled in her stomach whenever Asami smirked or gave her what she assumed was a once over in return. For this class period alone she could let her imagination run wild. Knowing she would never see this woman again gave her some sort of peace in that matter.

 

At the sound of the timer, Asami switched positions. Back facing Korra now, face turned to the side, still not enough to gaze back at her, or to notice the way Korra gawked. The curve of her waist, the swell of her ass that later fell into toned thighs all attributed to the growing heat in her core. thirty minutes felt like five as she sketched out the dark midnight locks that draped down Asami’s backside. 

 

During art school, Korra always excelled. Especially with sketching which came naturally to her. Attention to detail was the biggest factor that came with her artwork, she never forgot to add the simple things like the beauty mark on one of her thighs or the twin dimples on her lower back. Upon such a close inspection she noticed things, like a soft pink scarf spanning from her upper thigh to the junction on the back of her knee.

 

When she finished a couple minutes early she said her pencil down and tried to simply look at the floor. There was no way that a single person hadn’t noticed her insistent staring. And while she didn’t necessarily mind people knowing her sexuality, she didn’t feel all that comfortable answering questions or being made fun of for a silly little crush.

 

At the third timer, Asami sat back on a couch that Korra hadn’t even realized was there. Spreading those long legs wide open. One hand rested on her upper thigh, and Korra found herself lost in a daydream in which that hand was her own. she could spot the wetness between the woman’s legs. The way the arousal pooled in her slit and onto her thighs, and oh god- she was still staring at Korra.

 

Asami drew her bottom lip inwards, heated looks exchanged between them as if it was a challenge. Some sick twisted way to tease a complete stranger and Korra took the bait without question. more and more as time went on, and her sketch became more detailed through effortless work, Korra found herself completely enthralled. 

 

Mesmerized by the idea of her sitting with Asami on that couch. Crawling onto her, taking her sweet time kissing and touching all the skin she desired most. Thrusting her fingers through the tight muscle until she heard those sweet cries of pleasure. Or maybe Asami would take the reins and pleasure her until she couldn’t do much but gasp for air and cling to her shoulders. She couldn’t be bothered to care either way.

 

“Korra!” Professor Beifong shouted. Jolting her out of her daydream. Rattling the desk in its escape. She looked over to Beifong who signaled her to come to her desk. Many of the other students were leaving, Asami had just started to pull her bra on and was feigning eye contact with her.

 

“Professor Beifong. What’s wrong?” Korra asked. Sheepishly rubbing her neck as she walked closer and to the front of the desk. 

 

“You know exactly what’s wrong. We had a guest come and I know for a fact I informed everyone to be on time for today's class.”

 

“Again, I am really sorry about that I pro-“

 

The professor held her hand up in response. “Don’t want to hear any excuses. I have somewhere to be. You can apologize to Miss Sato. Asami, will you be staying here to catch up on paperwork again?”

 

“Yes, tell Kya I said hello '' Asami said simply, still working on the buttons of her slacks. “Sure thing.” Lin murmured as she picked her things up and neared the exit. “Lock the door when you’re finished.” 

 

“Of course.” Asami replied.

 

Korra walked back over to her desk and grabbed her bag. “Asami, was it? I am really sorry about that.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize just because Lin made you. It’s not a big deal, truly.” Asami said. 

 

Her gaze lingered on Asami’s chest as she pulled over a red turtleneck that complimented her hair and complexion.

 

“Besides, you’re an art student. I’ve met worse. No offense, some of you guys are really stuck up.” she chuckled breathlessly. Korra joined in the lighthearted laughter and voiced her similarities in opinion. “You and Beifong seem close.” Korra pointed out.

 

“Not really.” Asami said. “I’m close with Kya, her wife, she offered me this job because of the connection. It was a big favor seeing that there isn’t much of a demand for nude models.”

 

“I can’t see why not.” Korra shrugged, a mischievous smile coloring her face. “Excuse me?” Asami asked, despite knowing exactly what Korra had said— and the intentions behind it. “Oh… nothing.”

 

“No.” Asami sighed, dropping her bag and stepping closer, until they were a few feet apart. “What did you say?”

 

“Just that- I… well I don’t see why not.” Korra rambled. “I mean you’re a beautiful woman and any guy—or girl— for that matter would be lucky to.” 

 

“So that is what this was about.” Asami said darkly, voice barely above the register of a whisper. “What?” Korra asked, completely flabbergasted.

 

Asami stepped forward once more, cornering Korra between the wall. “I mean, tell me… Korra.” the shorter woman reveled in the way her name rolled off Asami’s tongue. “Was I just imagining things? Or were you staring at me?” She brushed a piece of Korra’s hair out of her face as she stared into bright blue eyes.

 

“I was doing my assignment. I- I had to look at you.” She stammered.

 

“I guess that’s true. But it was a little more for you wasn’t it? You liked what you saw.” Korra looked away, only confirming Asami’s hunch. “Do I have that right, love?”

 

“That’s- it’s insane and wildly inappropriate.” She muttered, punctuating the sentence with a gasp when one of Asami’s hands landed on her waist. She leaned forward almost letting their lips touch.

 

“Wildly inappropriate, yes. Something tells me that’s what you like about it so much.” Asami sneered.

 

Korra paused, testing the waters, then leaning forward. Asami’s mouth was wet and hot on her own, the light taste of lipstick wasn’t enough to distract from the velvet of Asami’s tongue sliding against hers. The model was met with a whine when she pulled away, she shushed the woman in front of her and moved to her pants. Undoing the buttons and sliding them down to her ankles along with the boxers she’d been wearing. 

 

“So wet… is this all my doing?” Asami asked, running her fingers down the length of her slit. Asami didn’t take offense when Korra neglected to answer, the breathless sighs bouncing off the walls were enough praise for her. Wet kisses were pressed to her neck and chest, occasionally wandering back to her mouth as Asami continued to tease her clit.

 

Asami pulled away once more, her lipstick smudged around Korra’s lips.  Asami unclipped her nude brown bra and let it fall to the ground. “Come on.” She murmured through a heated kiss, dragging Korra over to the couch. Korra obeyed her nonverbal command, laying on the very couch she pictured this scene on. Being this bare for someone— anyone— a complete stranger to be exact should have been embarrassing.

 

All she felt was the need to let this woman take control over her. Korra allowed her fingertips to travel to her own swollen folds as Asami stripped in front of her. “So eager. Keep touching yourself, love.” Asami purred. That maroon turtleneck was the first thing to go, then the black jeans that cupped her ass perfectly. Asami pinned her hair up into a high bun.

 

Korra dropped her head back, arching her back and grinding closer into her own hand as Asami kissed up her thighs. “Let me take care of you.” she whispered, giving Korra’s hand a light smack and kissing the pulse point of her neck. She wasted no time pushing her fingers through the tight ring of muscle. Korra gasped, digging her nails into Asami’s shoulder blades and burying her face into the models neck. 

 

“Fuck.” Korra mewled, grinding her hips up to meet her hand. “Good girl. You like that shit don’t you?” Asami cooed. Korra nodded frantically, as Asami shifted her hand. Rubbing against her clit perfectly. Her whole body shook as waves of heat ran over her.  “More.”

 

“What was that?” Asami asked, slowing her thrusts. “I need- I need more.” Korra panted. 

 

“Tell me what you want.” Asami whispered, placing a wet kiss on her cheek and pulling her fingers into her mouth. “Your- your mouth. Your fingers. You. I need you, Sami.”

 

“We’re at pet names now?” Asami mused “Not that I’m complaining.” she chuckled.

 

 Korra didn’t share her amusement, opting to scooch up against the couch. Asami chuckled at the notion, kissing down her chest and resting right below where Korra needed her. Asami released a low moan when her tongue pressed against Korra’s drenched folds. Starting a slow and torturous pace that made Korra writhe underneath her. Two fingers thrusted inside her, wetness dripped onto Asami’s wrist as Korra used her hand in a feeble attempt of covering up a whine. 

 

“How pretty you sound, all for me.” She teased.

 

“Please, Asami.” Korra sighed. No longer caring about the blatant desperation in her voice. All she needed in this moment was the earth shattering orgasm Asami was bound to deliver to her. 

 

Asami smiled, “Well since you asked so nicely, pretty girl, lay back.”

 

Only then did she realize how tense she’d let her body become. “I knew you’d look good like this. All desperate and begging for my mouth.”

 

“You thought of me?” Korra questioned, looking down the expanse of her body, a thin layer of sweat collected on her skin. “I did, the whole ninety minutes I thought of this. Now hush and let me do this, love.”

 

Asami looked up at her, maintaining eye contact as she sucked her off. The tension quickly returned to her body as she grinded into Asami’s mouth in search of release. The model welcomed the desperation, pulling her closer by the hips, curling her tongue in that motion that made her body lurch forward and lapping the juices that spilled out. Two fingers slid into her thrusting at the swollen muscle that made her see stars. It shouldn’t have taken her by surprise when her muscles started contracting and her breath caught in her throat.

 

“Don’t stop!” Korra gasped. Rocking into Asami’s very talented hands. A selection of curses falling out of her mouth as the high hit her. Fingers clenched against the tied up hair on Asami’s bun. The waves didn’t stop, they returned, again and again until Korra found herself collapsed on the couch. Shaking as Asami sucked her off. Coming for this model she’d probably never see again. A part of her hoped that wasn’t true. 

 

Asami withdrew her fingers as Korra came down for the final time. Asami walked over to the other side of the room and handed a still writhing Korra her clothes with a sly smile. “That was— you— holy shit.” 

 

“You as well.” Asami obliged. 

 

“I can pay you back for that.” Korra offered as Asami pulled her clothes back on. “As tempting as that is, I have places to be.” She responded, handing her a card and placing a light kiss on her cheek. “Lock the door and shut the lights when you leave. I’ll see you next class.” Asami said. Grabbing her bag and leaving.

 

Korra looked down at the card, with a headshot of the model, her name, email, and number. If what she had said was true, and there was no reason to lie about the simple phrase, modern art was quickly going to become her new favorite class.