Dimity Drill was not what anyone would call artistic. Her drawing skills started and ended with stick people to play hangman with. Why she was sitting at an easel squinting at an insipid bunch of flowers, she didn't know. Well she did. Her roommate had bet her she wouldn't last the class. With an uncharacteristic smirk, Hecate had wagered £100. A bit steep but Dimity agreed to save face. All she had to do was waste two hours each week for a while, drawing stuff. Nobody said she had to be any good at it.

It was until she finished the first class that she saw the error of her ways. How could she keep still for one hour let alone two? She was not built for a sedentary lifestyle, she was a PE teacher for goodness sakes. The other people in the class had grumbled about her shuffling and chewing and wrapper opening but she was struggling with serenely sketching. It really was not as easy as it looked. A line, a circle, another shape, connect it all together, shouldn't be that hard. But it bloody well was. She'd progressed from stick people to faces that looked vaguely like humans but it was all a bit basic. Arms and legs that looked easy to do, ended up being drawn out of proportion and that was just for the cuddly toys. She was nearly at the end of the sessions and didn't look like she was going to be the next Van Gogh anytime soon. She didn't know that this week was going to be different. Not that she would morph into a celebrated artist but something bigger and much more important than that nonsense.

'Our life model, ladies and gentleman' said the teacher admiringly. Dimity dropped her Snickers bar. A low murmur cascaded around the room. The one man in the room turned beetroot. Before them was a splendid specimen of particularly classy bitch. It wasn't the fur coat draped around her, or the near lack of any other clothing. Dimity could sense it. It was in the sternness of the delicate lips and arched brows, the narrowed eyes. She looked like a glorious Bond villain. Dimity could only dream of a woman like that.

She spent the rest of the session trying to draw competently. Even more difficult when distracted by the contents of a fur coat. She spent some time shading in the texture, just to look busy every time the teacher swept by.

'Don't you think you should start on the model now?' Suggested Pippa.

Yes, she'd like to start on the model but the model was way out of Dimity's league. Dimity nodded just to get her to go away. She looked at Agatha and wondered what she should elaborate on. She'd drawn the outline of her legs. Agatha was wearing heels, the easiest part to draw. Dimity added in hands, the oval sapphire ring worn nonchalantly on her index finger. Dimity tried not to think of those wide fingers. She knew what Agatha could do to her with those and she was glad that a blush was hard to discern on her complexion. Wasn't sure what to do with the lack of knickers so skipped that part to be done later. She wasn't brave enough. Feeling like a pervert, Dimity added in the curve of breasts, the tantalising peek of nipple. Agatha shifted position so that the coat fell open a little bit more. Dimity froze. Had that been intentional? Now she could see an entire nipple. She glanced up and met those ice blue eyes. Shit. She meant it. Agatha raised an eyebrow, challenging her to draw her breasts correctly, curved up and tipped in rose brown. Dimity would have expected them to be pale pink but she preferred what she saw. A quiet cough of amusement behind her made her drop her pencil.

'Agatha, please stop teasing the artists, some of them are delicate creatures' said an amused Pippa. She had been on the receiving end of Agatha's intentions a couple of years ago and had experienced the best one-night stand of her life. Hiring Agatha was her doing, dynamic enough to post for an art class but decently unattainable. You didn't choose Agatha, she chose you. It looked like Dimity was going to be the lucky one this time.

Agatha snorted elegantly and crossed her legs again. Dimity tried not to think of that film where that woman did that. Basic instinct. Yeh. Stop thinking about it. She beavered away at her sketch diligently, pushing all inappropriate thoughts out of her head until the last minute. She finally met Agatha's eyes as the class was finishing and felt foolish because she knew that she was going to have dreams about this woman that would make them both feel uncomfortable. They weren't going to have a conversation anyway so there was no point in picturing the idea of them exchanging words.

'So what is it that you do?'

Dimity looked up from her easel and nearly fell off her chair. Agatha had attired herself in her own clothes and thrown the coat back on again, drawn up a chair and sat to survey Dimity.

'I'm a P.E. teacher' muttered Dimity. Very smooth. She thought she could detect some amusement on the other woman's face.

'That's very wholesome and hearty' she mused, fingers tapping on her cup. 'You must be in good shape.'

Dimity's ego inflated. 'I'm pretty fit for my age, yeh.'

'I bet you are' said Agatha sweetly. She looked Dimity up and down with bold intention. Dimity's bravado deserted her. She could talk about exercise and training with confidence but to be so brazenly propositioned was not an opportunity that came around often. She wasn't sure that she could handle it.

Agatha tapped the sketch.

'Not bad. You have a good eye for a curve. You could adjust this ankle though.'

Dimity looked at the offending ankle and decided that she was going to have some very objectionable dreams tonight. Agatha leaned forward.

'You were staring into space half an hour ago. What were you thinking?'

'I was thinking that your nipples matched my duvet.'

Shit. Had she really said that?

'Would you like me to match with your duvet?'

Dimity felt hot. Agatha was looking at her like she was ready to tumble her onto said duvet.

'Erm, no, I was just…thinking…about my bed?'

She gestured to the window, at 5pm it was already pitch-black outside. It was now 8pm and looking just as dreary.

'Just looking forward to going home and getting cosy.'

Agatha nodded slowly.

'Just you? And your cat?'

'Erm.'

Dimity was thrown. Was it that obvious she had a cat?

'I have a cat' said Agatha conversationally. Dimity was delighted. They stayed for a bit longer discussing their cats. Agatha's was a beautiful fluffy smoky grey, captured prettily lounging on the sofa. Agatha had a lot of pictures of her cat on her phone. Dimity was glad that she wasn't the only one. Her cat was short haired, dark as midnight and very affectionate.

'Murphy can be a bit standoffish' Agatha explained. 'Takes her a while to warm to guests.'

'Star can be demanding. The sofa is her territory. She needs to be coddled if you're sitting there.'

'We should introduce our pussies to each other, see if they get on' said Agatha casually, sipping the dregs of her tea. Dimity nearly spat out her tea. What could she say to that?

'Ladies, time's up' called the teacher. They ignored her.

'I'm not sure they'd get on' said Dimity cautiously.

'Don't know until you've tried.'

The glint in her eye told Dimity that they were not talking cross purposes here, it wasn't about the cats. Agatha seemed like a dangerous choice of bedfellow. Definitely adventurous. Dimity wondered if she'd had a threesome.

'Because…you're…not my type?' She chanced.

Agatha drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair and smiled rapaciously.

'Am I not, though?'

Dimity searched her befuddled brain as to a suitable response. She tried not to look at the fingers in front of her. Agatha might know what she was thinking.

'Seems to me like opposites attract with you. It's certainly the case for me' Agatha hinted. Her amused expression told Dimity that she knew what she was thinking. Help.

'I'll walk you to your car.'

Dimity let Agatha take her arm and walk her out to her wheels.

'Ooooh a motorbike, looks speedy' said Agatha, running her finger over the handlebar. Dimity really wished she wouldn't do that. Was she making it obvious that she'd rather have that finger sunk inside her instead? Two of them please. Dimity shivered at the thought.

'You're cold, you should be getting home. Where's your scarf?'

'Didn't bring one' she said foolishly. Agatha unwound her own scarf and wrapped it around her, tucking it in tidily. She smiled promisingly at Dimity who suddenly felt like Alice in Wonderland. Agatha did not touch her, leaving Dimity longing for it.

'You can give it back to me next time' she said, walking off. Dimity stared at her retreating back, knowing that she knew she was watching her. Agatha had a confident swagger and Dimity rated her own chances of resistance as zero.