Quic Change

It began by accident, of course. It was the end of my Thursday night; my history seminar let out at 9pm and I had just enough time to duck into the bathroom and quickly change my clothes. The department offices are closed on Fridays, and the ivory tower was all but totally locked down for the weekend. I tried the bathroom door, but it was already locked, like practically everything else.

Great. Now what?

I groused inwardly about my predicament, knowing I couldn't leave for my date without changing clothes.

I was NOT going out in my starving-student wear, as that would almost certainly put the kibosh on my plans to invite Ricky home with me. Flannel and jeans don't exactly scream sex, and I am too old to play the ingénue. Planning ahead, I'd slipped my lucky minidress in my bag before leaving home. Now, if I could just find a place to change, I could slip into the requisite little black dress, thank the heavens for gloriously unwrinklable cashmere/lycra blends, and be on my way.

Fuck it. Find somewhere, and fast.

I started moving down the hallway, trying every door, hoping that someone's latch didn't catch. The faculty lounge was unlocked.

That's school logic for you: lock the john but leave the room with all the good stuff open

.

Man, they're lucky it's just me.

Relieved to have a changing-room, it didn't really occur to me that there might be faculty still in the building; in the back of my mind lived the typical student belief that Profs essentially cease to exist once we walk out of the classroom.

Shutting the door behind me, I kicked off my boots as I pulled The Dress out of my bag. Working quickly, I dumped my day clothes in a heap I could shove in the trunk of my car on my way out. Standing there in my panties and bra, I smoothed the dress out and checked it over for anything static-clinging to the fabric.

Bra? No bra? Bra? No bra? Is no bra sexy or slutty?

I debated myself silently, deciding impulsively that braless was the way to go.

Gravity's gonna start making that decision for me before long.

Carpe diem, baby.

I stepped into the soft fabric, not wanting to stretch the bodice and risk an embarrassing (and braless) breast spillover at the bar. As I pulled it up over my thighs, my eyes moved quickly around the room in search of a mirrored surface in the unfamiliar and taboo turf of the faculty lounge. There was a smallish mirrored magnet on the fridge.

That'll do.

It was just enough to let me re-powder my face before pulling the my dress the rest of the way up.

Excellent: no make-up on the dress. Stylin'

. I grabbed my trusty warpaint and headed for the makeshift mirror.

Mid-stride, the door opened. Not yet comprehending this unexpected turn, I spun around, naked breasts still exposed to the air, nipples tight and hard in the energy-conserving chill of the room.

I stared directly into the face of Dr. West, the Prof whose history course I'd just left.

Oh, fuck!

I scrambled to pull my dress up while he blushed, apologized, and backed out of the room quickly.

Damn it. And I need this class, too: can't drop it. Fuck, fuck,

fuck!

Smoothing myself over on the fly, I grabbed my things off the back of the sofa, hoping to beat a hasty retreat out the smokers' back door and avoid further contact. I didn't want to see him again until I had figured out how to forget that my professor accidentally got an eyeful of my naked flesh.

How did he get there so fast?

West stood outside the back door, looking at me through partially-drawn blinds. I didn't know how to react.

Bold or embarrassed? Lady or tramp?

I wasn't afraid of him; West was over sixty and small. I surprised myself by looking him in the eye; I have no idea how or when I decided to wink.

Illogically emboldened, I walked out the back door, passing within three feet of West's rigid form. I didn't say anything, just met his stare and smiled. His eyes darted away from mine, and I thought it was over. But before I could reach the walkway, I heard his voice. My heart thudded in my chest.

Oh no, what now?

I turned back to face him.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Dr. West?"

"I said, 'I'll see you next week, Ms. Khan.'" He grinned at me then, looking pleased with himself. I thought about that line all week. By the time Thursday came around again, I was looking forward to it.