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It was Monday, the first day of my sophomore year at university. While walking to Bradford Hall to attend my first class of the day, I was thinking about how right my decision had been to move with my parents to Florida and attend university there instead of staying in our native England. Of course, I missed my friends and life in our town, but the past year had been wonderful and I looked ahead to an even better year.Kasey, my roomie from last year in the dorms, and I had moved to a two-bedroom apartment. What an enormous difference. Of course, we didn’t have a dining hall, but it was a good experience to make meals for each other, simple as they might be.She’d helped me flourish so much in this new environment. It wasn’t as if I or my friends and family were totally unsophisticated, but here everything was different. Different weather, different opportunities, different rules. Mum and Dad seemed quite happy with how I was settling in, how I was adapting to our new life. So was I. My eyes had been opened to all kinds of new ideas—including how to dress. I felt a part of things much better now than when I had first arrived. Gone were the chunky knit jumpers and baggy jeans, having been replaced with shorter skirts or leggings and fitted blouses.It was August and Florida was hot. The common classroom attire for female students was either shorts or a midi to mini skirt, usually with a tee-shirt type top. As long as the shorts or skirt covered your butt, they were socially acceptable—there was no formal dress code. I was wearing a mid-thigh length skirt that day with a white, tailored blouse. Matching white bra and knickers completed my ensemble. I’d always remembered my mother’s admonition, “Emme, you never get a second chance to make a good first impression.” So today I’d dressed a bit smarter than I would at other times.Finding my way to the lecture hall that was posted almanbahis for Studies in Twentieth-Century American Literature and Culture, I walked in determined to sit in the back, as usual. I’m not shy, exactly, but am somewhat of an introvert. People often mistake one for the other—they aren’t the same.So as I prepared to take a seat, I glanced down the shallow steps to the well of the room. She was standing there looking directly at me. Our eyes locked. I could barely break the connection. It felt thrilling. A quick shiver ran through me. It seemed like she’d gestured to me. Seemingly on autopilot, I continued down to the front row. Karen motioned me to a seat directly in front of her. I thought a brief smile crossed her face as I crossed my legs. Had I imagined the smile? Was her look good or bad?“Karen Andersen” and the course’s title were written on the old-style, black-slate chalkboard, along with the class web site, a phone number, office location, and “4pm–5pm Tues I really liked the sound of those, especially keeping secrets.My fingers opened around either side of my pleasure center, sliding in parallel, lightly squeezing my inner realm. I was definitely thinking unethical and improper thoughts as I recalled how Karen had looked at my tee-shirt and the way I filled it. Obviously, I was reading more into everything than was really there, but I let myself run with it, pretending her “…don’t want all the students…” meant she just wanted me. In casual clothes. Maybe tight jeans plus my slight cleavage showing.Lost in a fantasy, my hand moving faster up and down, gripping my clit between fingers, teasing and torturing myself, thinking of Karen’s hand inside my knickers as her unintelligible voice played in my brain. Oh, fuck. My finger slipped inside my tunnel, in and out and in again. Yes, this was good, getting faster, firmer, now two fingers. Fuck. Mentally, almanbahis yeni giriş I hear her voice, feel her fingers pump in and out of me, thrusting hard, bringing me to my special place. It’s there, it’s now. Oh!Riding the sensations until they calm into a panting afterglow, I smile shyly at Karen. She really is a very good teacher.Eventually, I fell into a happy, relaxed sleep dreaming of tomorrow. oooO0I0Oooo Unknown to Emme and Karen, their desires ran on parallel tracks. Both had been infatuated with each other since the first day of class. Their first eye contact had been one of those moments when time seemed to stand still for both of them.Emme really had intended to sit in the back row. She always sat in the back—her introverted nature demanded it.This was Karen’s second year as a TA. She’d never made a gesture, or any other indication, to a student regarding where to sit—let alone inviting one to the front row, to a seat directly in front of her.Emme had sexually experimented with other girls in secondary school, but it was always just an experiment, never anything close to serious arousal or passion. Now each of Karen’s glances gave her a tingle. Her dampness was undeniable. Every time she uncrossed and recrossed her legs Karen’s eyes were drawn. Previously unknown passions were rising in Emme. The need to explore, to experience these feelings was almost overpowering. Unlike Emme, Karen totally understood what she was feeling. Having had several intense, lustful relationships with other women, she’d long ago embraced her bi-sexuality. So as Emme walked to the front row that first day, and the days after, Karen embraced the feelings she experienced. Each time she took in Emme’s perfect figure–enchanting blue eyes, chestnut brown hair hanging past her shoulders, tantalizing breasts, creamy-smooth, perfectly formed legs–desire began to rise in her. almanbahis giriş To act or to suppress was her dilemma. She’d chosen to walk the thin edge of an ethical wedge. So late Friday afternoon both were not only contemplating how to dress, but what the big picture of the evening would be, or maybe more accurately, how it could be steered to play out as they wanted.Emme took Karen at her word about casual, but did that mean casual sexy or casual casual? Narrowed down from tight jeans to tight, super-short, old denim shorts or a mini denim, stone-washed skirt, she finally went with the skirt over a black thong and, wanting to show off her belly button piercing, a navy, cropped tube-top, braless of course. Once dressed, she laughed to herself as it occurred to her that she usually didn’t spend this much time getting ready for a hot date, and this was just an evening meeting with her class TA. Just a meeting… a meeting she hoped was much more than that.At the same time, Karen was having comparable thoughts. She settled on an abstract patterned blue flounce mini with a black thong and a somewhat baggy, maroon, button-down silk blouse leaving the top three buttons undone and foregoing a bra. She knew her perky boobs would not disappoint and hoped she’d not gone too far.Emme arrived promptly at 5:00 pm. Her doorbell ring was answered directly.“Oh Emme, you look wonderful! C’mon in.”“Thanks! You look delightful.” Not missing her bralessness, she continued, “I love that blouse on you. Oh, and for you,” she said handing her the package. “I know you said not to bring anything, but I couldn’t resist the chocolates.”“Thanks so much. Maybe we’ll enjoy them together. Come sit down and have some wine and cheese.”It was a short walk to the living area where Karen sat on a love seat and patted the space next to her, indicating where Emme should sit. They were only inches apart. The coffee table in front of them had the hors d’oeuvres.“I hope you like Chardonnay. This is an oakey one from California. Plus, I love Stilton and thought you might also. I always keep some on hand. I have a cheddar if you’d prefer…”
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