College Daze

COLLEGE DAZE

Chapter 5

Sitting in the auditorium before class starts, I cannot get the scene that played out this morning out of my head. I held her for a long time, her cuddled up in a tiny ball. I could feel her need for human contact. So, I held her.

Finally, she straightened out and gave me a quick kiss. I unclenched the clothes pins that were still fastened to her nipples. She almost came as the pressure was removed from the dark purple crowns of her upturned breasts.

'Come see me off,' she stated before walking out. If I go see her and we end up in another session like the one we just had, it would affect her performance. No one can take a lashing like that and be at the top of their game, let alone sit for a long plane ride.

'Will you sign this?' The voice breaks my reverie.

'Huh?' I say.

'Will you sign this add slip?' He repeats.

'Sorry, I was thinking about something,' I say trying to cover my gaffe. 'I will sign add slips after class up in my office,' I explain. He walks off dejected.

I get up to write that note on the board, but the sight of Tiffany walking in draws my attention away from the task at hand. She smiles at me as I notice her tee shirt, tight enough to clearly show she isn't wearing a bra. Her heavy breasts jiggle in time with her step, pert nipples visible through the thin, white fabric.

I sigh heavily and turn to write on the board. I take my seat again in time to see Amber walk in with her two friends. They are having an animated conversation which includes the girl on her right pointing at the front of the class. I guess it is in reference to me because she blushes when our eyes meet as she skirts her way to a seat about half way back. I feel she is sitting that far back in a vain attempt to show she isn't a favorite of mine to her friends.

The class went good. The second year teaching a course is enough time to iron out the kinks that inevitably crop up, even in the best thought out plans. After, I lead a heard of students to my office. I record as each student has me sign the add card or even the change of class card required by the registrar's office. I do this in case I do not receive an updated roll for the lab classes. It is always better to be prepared and not need to be than caught waiting on something beyond my control.

The only student left after the add slips are handled is Karen, the grandma's girl whose boyfriend went to another college (per her questionnaire). I was hoping Amber would stop by to explain this morning and so I could ask her to be a lab assistant.

'Come in,' I say to Karen hoping she isn't going to tell me she is dropping the class. I had already decided she was the best choice for the lab right after lunch. If only I could do something about her mode of dress.

I close the door behind her and take a seat. She perched in the tall stool again, exactly the same way she had the day before.

'What can I do for you?' I ask.

'I was wondering if you have chosen the lab assistants yet,' she replies shyly. Her tone of voice matches her dress. Conservative, trying not to be noticed. But today, there is a hint of femininity in her outfit. The cardigan sweater she has on is cut so it emphasizes her form, a true hourglass figure. Her blouse, buttoned up all the way to her neck doesn't fit in with anyone else's choice of clothes. Same with the matching skirt. It brushes the tops of her shoes. Shoes, oh my, sensible shoes that look like loafers men wear, and a peek of argyle socks. She is dressed for somewhere that is already approaching freezing, not for sunny Southern California.

'Not yet,' I lie. 'I will announce my choices tomorrow.' That part isn't a lie.

'Oh,' she sounds discouraged. 'I really need a job to help out.'

'I will take that into consideration,' I respond. A trace of hope springs into her small smile. She starts to get up to leave. 'There is something else I want to talk to you about,' I say. She sits back down.

'Your clothes,' I continue.

'What about my clothes?' She asks.

'You need to do something about them,' I respond. She tries to object, but I cut her off. 'I have my reputation to think about,' I say with a chuckle.

Confused, she doesn't know what to say as she opens her mouth to speak and then closes it. She stares at me as I stand and take two steps towards her.

'Now, take this sweater,' I say.

'What about it?' She asks, quickly and defensively. 'It's a cute sweater.'

'I didn't say it wasn't cute,' I respond. 'It is. The thing I mean, isn't it a little warm to be wearing a sweater?'

'It feels nice in here with a sweater.'

'Point taken,' I say. 'It is a little much for anywhere else.' She smiles at thinking she won that round, but she didn't. 'Take it off,' I command.

Shocked, she slowly pulls it over her head.

'Hmm,' I say.

'What?'

'Not bad,' I say reassuringly. 'Not bad for a start.' I reach for the buttons on her blouse, staring at the neck. She tries to move back, but the desk blocks her retreat.

'Don't worry,' I say as I unfasten four buttons, enough to see a good deal of cleavage, but something is blocking it.

'Stop,' she pleads.

'You can leave any time you want,' I reply stepping back. She relaxes.

I wait for her to say something or leave, but she stands with a look of disbelief of the events happening. 'What do you have on under there?' I ask.

'A bra.'

'A bra,' I repeat. 'There's no way that is a bra,' I goat her on.

'Yes, it is,' she says resound.

'Take it off.'

'No.'

'Okay,' I say. 'I will see you tomorrow.'

Stunned, she sits there. I can tell she is playing out all the scenarios she can think of in her head. 'Okay,' she says meekly. 'Turn around,' she continues softly.

I hear her as she works hard to remove the Victorian torture device. 'You can turn back now,' she says barely above a whisper.

She has refastened her blouse one button higher than I left it. A huge mass of cotton, elastic, and underwire is sticking out of her book bag.

'Not bad,' I say as I step back up. 'Not bad at all.' I unfasten two more buttons. 'Now, that looks good.' I say.

She smiles at the compliment. She also visibly relaxes my hands drop away from the few buttons that I can see are still fastened.

I sit down as I say, 'Come here.' She stands and takes a small step towards me. 'Come on, I don't bite.' She closes the gap between us. I continue my statement under my breath. 'Unless you want me to.'

I place my hands on her hips. She jumps. I lift my hands away. 'Don't worry,' I say.

'I, I, I,' she stutters.

I smile at her. 'I'm not going to do anything,' I express with a feign of innocence. She nods her head.

I touch her hips again, this time lightly. I slide my hands down her skirt and stop a little more than half way to her knees. I start bunching the fabric up. Slowly the hemline rises from her ankles. A new problem emerges.

I look down and then back up. 'How much do you have on under there?' I inquire.

'Only a slip,' she says. 'I always wear a slip with a skirt or dress.'

'Only a slip,' I repeat. 'I bet you have more than that.' I wink at her but I'm not sure she noticed. 'I bet you have granny panties too.'

She blushes. 'Of course I have panties on,' she states defiantly.

'Take your skirt off.'

'No!'

'Okay, don't,' I say as I lean back in my chair. She looks flustered. 'You have a slip on, I'm not going to see anything.' She thinks about it for a moment, not as long this time.

She unzips the skirt and lets it fall. Stepping out of the rumpled fabric, I exclaim. 'Oh my God. That shirt is long enough to be a dress.' Her blouse, which I thought would be short, extends to a point barely above where I started adjusting the hemline of her skirt, and it is buttoned up all the way to the square tail.

'Wow,' I say. 'Take off the slip and let's see how you look.' Buoyed by my enthusiasm, she quickly pulls it off without thinking.

I do a quiet whistle in approval. She blushes. 'You look great.'

'Really?' she asks, unsure of herself.

'Yeah,' I reply. And she does look good, a lot better than she did fifteen minutes prior.

'I bet you still have granny panties on,' I dare her.

'No, I don't,' she almost shouts.

'Prove it,' I say, hoping her enthusiasm has taken hold. I swing around in the chair to face the other way, before she has a chance to think about it.

'Here,' she says a few moments later. I turn back to see her holding a massive piece of white cotton. At her feet is another item.

'Panties and a girdle,' I tease.

She gasps at her boldness. She retreats back towards my drafting table. 'Grandma always says a lady wears a girdle and a slip in public.'

'Yeah, back in the fifties,' I say with a straight face, but I can't hold it. I chuckle. She smiles back at me.

'I look at her approvingly, up and down several times. I hold up a finger and jump from my chair. Ruffling through a closet where I keep my lab coat and a few dress clothes in case I have an important meeting with someone, I pull out a thin belt.

Wrapping it around her waist, I cinch the blouse dress tight. 'This belt is way too big for you,' I say, admiring her tiny waist. The blouse dress has pulled tight across her chest, and I can see plump little nuggets swelling on the crests. Apparently, she isn't immune to the chill of my office.

'Come on,' I say as I stride across the room.

'Where are we',' she freezes as I grab two helmets and open the door.

I look back at her and wait. Finally, I step over to her and grab a hand. 'Shopping,' I say quietly. Apparently, either my touch or my statement is enough to break the trance and she follows mechanically. She doesn't even say anything as I climb on my bike and start it up.

Having debated where to go during the ride, I pull into a major chain department store. I had thought about stopping at an intimate apparel store, but that probably wouldn't go over too good. In fact, the whole ride didn't go too good. She hung on tight, arms around my rib cage and her knees pressed against my hips. I had hoped she would relax, but that didn't happen.

I park near the front door. There is a bike rack there. A bicycle rack, that is, but it's close enough for me. Two wheels is two wheels. I alight fast. She swings her leg over, probably flashing half of the parking lot, but I don't look or say anything. She is already self-conscious enough with embarrassing her any further.

Inside, I pick out a silver Concho belt to replace the one she is wearing. She follows obediently and upon reaching the shoes, I say, 'Pick out some sandals.'

She looks around. I reject her first few choices before she gets daring and decides on an open toe style with lots of straps. Any of the choices would be better than what she has on now, but I refrain from making that comment.

She thinks we are through as I start towards the front. I can see her breathe deeply as her anxiety level drops. But she has another thing coming that will test her resolve.

I veer through the women's clothing area. She tails close behind me as she carries one of those wire baskets. Stopping in front of the intimates, I ask, 'What size?'

The look of horror in her face is priceless. She doesn't answer. I think she can't find the words. I grab a package of boy shorts and another of thongs, assorted colors and size, and toss them to her. She actually catches them which surprises me.

I start looking through the matched separates. I ask, 'What size?' again.

She mumbles out, '36 C,' which looks about right. I grab two different bra and panty sets, one red, one black. Each nearly transparent as the lace is an open weave. Each item is also tiny, not much there to attempt to cover anything either.

I have to pull her to cashier in order to be able to leave the store. After storing the purchase in a saddle bag, I start the bike. She climbs on reluctantly, knowing it is her only ride back to campus and all of her stuff locked in my office.

'Now what?' she asks as we sit there.

'Now, we go back and you model everything for me.' I roar out of the parking lot, unable to hear her repos.

At the first stoplight, I continue, 'And then I peel those tiny items off and fuck you until you beg me to stop.'

Another look of dread on her face. She loosens her grip around me in anticipation of a dramatic complaint, but the light changes and I take off. Even though this time the acceleration was reserved, she grapples at me to avoid falling off. She doesn't realize I would never let that happen, but she wraps her arms around me tighter than before.

I start rubbing her left calf and knee as we wind our way back. She relaxes, her grip loosens. One hand brushes across my belly a few times as she adjusts the position of her arms. Her head lays on my shoulder as I can tell the motorcycle is starting to get to her. I wrap my arm around her leg and squeeze it against my side.

Unfortunately, we are at the campus. Another ten or fifteen minutes of riding and she might have relented to the six hundred pound vibrator that is commonly known as a Harley-Davidson.

I don't know if it is resignation to the position she is in or what, but she looks kind of excited as she unpacks the purchases. Maybe it is the knowledge that she will have more clothes on than she has now, or maybe the control she will have in displaying the new wares, or is that wears.

'Black is to tease, red is to show,' I say to her as she examines the sets closely for the first time.

She bites her lip for a split second before saying, 'Turn around.' I comply and I hear her dressing.

'I'm ready,' she says with anything but readiness in her voice. I slowly spin to face her. I lean back as I see her holding the shirt closed. No buttons fastened that I can see and the belt has been discarded.

I give her a quick wink as she gives me a tantalizing peek at the curve of one breast then the other. She has chosen to start with the red. Unexpected, no not really, she acknowledges that red is for show and she is going to show it all off in those tiny pieces of lace.

The peeks grow bolder. I lick my lip involuntarily as she finally shows one full breast and then the other. Full breast is an understatement. Perky, natural, up turned is a better description and topped with large brown nipples that contrast sharply with her creamy flesh.

I realize my mouth is agape. I breath out, 'Wow,' as I feel my heart pounding in my chest.

She smiles as she covers herself. Her hand works their way down the line of buttons. Grasping the shirt firmly, she darts it open, showing it all.

'Oh my god!' slips out. Not the oh my god she looks good, which she does. But the oh my god, bush. Bush, lots and lots of bush. The panties almost disappear in the vast expanse of bush. I haven't seen that much bush since a friend in high school scored some 1970's porn. I have never seen that much live and in person.

She recoils to my shock. She turns quickly and is fastening up buttons by the time I jump up out of the chair.

I wrap my arms around her waist, my hands cover hers. 'Karen,' I whisper in her ear. 'You look great. Better than great, beautiful,' I continue.

Her jaw is quivering as I kiss it. 'But,' she can barely eke out.

'You surprised me,' I say, trying to reassure her. 'I expected you to tease a little before flashing, like the way you started.' A little white lie to sooth her self-consciousness. I start unfastening buttons. 'I want to see all of you,' no lie there, as I pull the shirt off her shoulders and let it drop.

My hands move back around her and cup her breasts. I taunt and tease her nipples through the lace, feeling them harden and puff out. Deftly undoing the clasp, I twist her nuggets between my fingers until she moans with approval.

I slide a hand down around her flat belly. Continuing, I navigate her forest, slipping my hand beneath the panel of her panties. I trace along her furrow, slick with her perfume, and plunge a finger inside.

'I've never done this,' she pants out, her hips meeting the thrusts of my finger. I twist her in my arms. My finger refuses to relent as I kiss her. Quickly, my tongue starts invading her mouth in tempo with my intimate invasion further south. My other hand roams over her curvaceous rear end, stopping only to squeeze first one cheek and then the other.

She abruptly pulls her head back, breaking the kiss. Emitting a throaty groan, her body quivers then becomes slack in my arms.

'I, what? I,' she stutters, not knowing what to say or what has happened.

I withdraw my finger from her saturated love nest, wrapping my arms around her waist, I ask, 'Have you ever had an orgasm before?'

She blushes and shakes her head. I pick her up and set her on the drafting table. Hooking my thumb around the waist band of her panties, I pull. I lean in, throwing her legs over my shoulders, and slip my tongue between her swollen lips. Proceeding from bottom to top, now I know I don't like hair there, I draw my tongue up. Her clit is peeking out and I take it between my teeth and nibble.

She screams. An orgasm thunders through her. Her hand in my hair and legs locked around my head, she pulls me closer as another wave crashes.

I stop my ministrations. She slowly comes down and lets me loose. I stand and tear open my pants. Her eyes huge as I pull her off the desk and lower her onto my waiting manhood.

I think there's a 'No' mixed in with the moan as she settles onto me, followed by a 'Yes, yes, yes' over and over. I feel her membrane yield as I make her a woman.

She wraps her arms around my neck and legs around my waist as I slide her up and down. She squeezes tight and cums again. I release with her, surprised that it was so quick. Well not really quick, this seduction has taken hours out of my busy afternoon.