"I still can't believe you're living with Professor H," Jody sighed as we were waiting for our lecture to start.
A few months ago, I had been on the verge of becoming homeless and Professor and Mrs Henderson had kindly offered me the use of their loft in exchange for some light housework. It was an arrangement that suited me perfectly. Professor and Mrs H were in their mid-thirties, without children, and lived in a gorgeous mansion. The loft consisted of two rooms and a luxurious bathroom, more space than I had ever had to myself.
I was the envy of all my friends. I didn't have any classes with Professor H, but he was well-known around campus because of his good looks. I must admit, the man was gorgeous. Tall, with dark hair and even darker eyes, he looked more like a model than a professor. I knew he worked out regularly, which explained his perfectly toned physique.
All the girls knew they had no chance with him, as he was happily married to his equally gorgeous wife. She was the love of his life and the two of them acted as if they were newly weds.
Alice leaned towards us. "Is it true what they say?"
I feigned ignorance. "What do they say?"
Jody poked me. "You know. That they have sex parties."
I blushed despite myself. Of course I had heard the rumours, but to my utter disappointment, I hadn't seen any evidence of it myself. It was true that Professor and Mrs H were quite free in how they showed their love for each other. They had told me before I moved in that they were used to having the house to themselves and while they would make a few concessions on my behalf, they couldn't change their whole life for me. I had no problem with that, so every so often I could hear them have sex--most often in the pool or out on the deck when I was studying or trying to sleep. They weren't loud about it, but neither did they hide it. I wasn't prude, and the garden was private enough not to bother any neighbours, but sometimes I wondered if I could ever be so sexually free. I envied them.
One of the rules Professor H had made me agree to was never to talk about anything that happened at their home. He was a very private man and had been hesitant to lend the room to a student, but Mrs H had insisted I should live there. She had no job that I knew of--she was independently wealthy--but she was often found on campus supporting one or other cause. All the students loved her and she seemed to know everyone.
"I wouldn't know anything about sex parties," I told my friends.
Luckily for me, at that moment, the lecture started and I was spared any further questions.
That evening as I walked home, I thought about these alleged sex parties. The rumours were persistent, so I figured there must have been some truth to them. I wondered if the Hendersons held them when I went home to visit my parents. Did they think I wouldn't be discreet? Or did they see me as a child and didn't want to shock me?
I decided it must have been the latter. Professor H knew I didn't talk out of school. I had never told anyone about Mrs H's tendency to suntan naked or the way Professor H casually fingered her during movie nights when he thought I wasn't looking.
The thought bothered me. I wasn't a child anymore, I was nineteen and hadn't been a virgin for a good number of years. Even if they didn't want me to participate in the sex parties, I would have been cool with staying in my room while they hosted them. Although I would have loved to get an invitation. I wasn't a prude--on the contrary. I would have loved to have more sex, but sadly, all my dates recently had been mediocre. A quick few pumps and then they were done. They'd clearly never even heard about a clitoris, let alone tried to find it. It really put me off dating. I was able to get better orgasms with my fingers.
I decided I had been too wholesome at the Hendersons, which was probably why they viewed me as a child. I'd never taken a man home, even though Mrs H had assured me they had no problem with me doing so. I dressed in oversized shirts and baggy trousers and I never, ever talked about sex. Maybe they thought I was not interested in sex, which couldn't have been farther from the truth. I had tried to hard to be worthy of living there, but what if they were looking for a different kind of person? Someone who would happily join in with the fun? I had to somehow show them that I could be that type of person--sexy, fun, outgoing. And it would start with the way I dressed.
That Saturday, I went on a shopping spree. It was exhilarating to buy sexy dresses and skirts, beautiful lingerie and even a bikini that was so small, it wasn't anything more than a few patches of fabric and strings. I even bought a few silk baby dolls that left little to the imagination.
Back at home, I moved all my old clothes to the back of my closet. I had worn those since I was seventeen and it was time I upgraded to a more mature look. No wonder the Hendersons still thought of me as a child. Well, I'd show them.
Mrs H had insisted I join her and Professor H for dinner each night. She was an excellent cook and it saved me trying to make a dinner for one, so I had gratefully accepted. That night, I dressed with care. I showered, shaved and lotioned my body. I put on my new lingerie and a floaty mini-dress that hit the top of my thighs. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but gape. I was transformed into a sexy vixen with legs that seemed to go on for miles and breasts that looked two cup sizes bigger than normal. They were still only D-cup, of course, but the new bra pushed them up and together to create a cleavage I would have been jealous of if I'd seen another woman with it. There was nothing child-like about me now.
I deliberately went down to dinner late. I wanted to make an entrance. I couldn't wait to see the look on their faces as I walked into the room. Slipping on my new high-heeled sandals, I took one last look in the mirror before descending the stairs. As I walked down the hall towards the dining room, my heart pounded in my chest. What if they thought my clothes were too slutty and inappropriate? What if they had chosen me to live with them because I was so chaste and covered up? What if Mrs H thought I was dressed like this because I wanted to make a move on Professor H?
There was nothing for it, though. I had to go through with it as I didn't have time to change again. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door to the dining room and stepped inside.
Professor and Mrs H were seated at the table and looked up as I came in. The professor's jaw dropped and Mrs H gasped audibly. I stood still for a moment, unsure of whether their reaction meant delight or disapproval.
But then Mrs H got up and took my hand. "Zoe, you look wonderful." She turned to her husband. "Doesn't she look ravishing?"
Professor H swallowed and his voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Absolutely stunning." His dark eyes roved over my body, giving me a tingling feeling deep in my belly.
Mrs H pulled me to the table and I sat down, grateful for the cover the table gave me. I had felt positively naked under Professor H's gaze.
Mrs H put her hand on my thigh and gave it a little squeeze. "I am so happy you have decided to come out of your shell. I always knew you had hidden depths. Didn't I say so, honey?"
Professor H cleared his throat. "Yes, you did." He smiled at me, a brilliant smile with a hint of something darker. A shiver went down my spine.
Mrs H served dinner and the talk turned to some university matters. Mrs H sat close to me, her thigh occasionally brushing against mine. Her naked skin was smooth and warm, and the tingling sensation I had when Professor H had looked at me deepened. My panties were getting damp and I shifted slightly in my seat.
Mrs H glanced at me, then put her soft, cool hand on my thigh. "Are you feeling all right? You look a bit hot."
I shook my head. "I'm feeling fine. It's just a warm evening."
Professor H smiled. "You're right, it is warm. Shall we take dessert outside?"
"What a lovely idea." Mrs H got up. "Let me get dessert."
I got up as well. "Let me clear the table."
Professor H helped me and together we brought the dishes to the kitchen.
