"Professor ..."
I glance up from my computer to see Darla, a sweet girl who unfortunately talks a mile a minute for far too many minutes at a time. I immediately wish her away—I'm too busy to pretend to listen to her prattle on today. Still, she means well enough and, anyway, I'm a better teacher than that, so I plaster a smile on my face and gesture towards the office chair in front of me.
Now that I've been gracious, a new challenge presents itself: trying not to stare at Darla's remarkable breasts. She's wearing a tight t-shirt today and under it I can see the outline of her hard-working bra. "Mmm, lacy," I think as I shift a bit in my chair and try unsuccessfully to listen to Darla. Her curvy chest is matched by an equally curvy posterior. She has long brown hair, and a reasonably attractive face highlighted by plump, beautiful lips. All in all, a beautiful girl with an absolutely amazing pair of tits.
As my eyes move back up from her chest to their above-board, non-sexual-harassment-lawsuit, nothing-to-see-here-move-it-along-folks position, I see a small smile play across her face. God, have I been that obvious?
She's not talking anymore and staring straight at me, which makes me think I have indeed been that obvious. This girl never shuts up and now she's quietly staring at me with a Cheshire cat grin. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest and have time for precisely two thoughts to crash into my consciousness before she speaks: first, this is going to end very, very badly, and, second, I'm hard as a rock.
"Do you like my new bra, professor?"
Uh-oh.
She takes my muteness as a sign of deafness and repeats herself: "I said, do you like my new bra? I just got it, and I think it makes my tits look really great. Makes them stick out, don't you think?"
"Uh ... wait a second ..." I stammer, trying to slow this down. Jesus, even now I can hardly get a word in edgewise on this girl.
"I'm glad you looked at it," she continues. "I wanted you to look, because I have a really big crush on you. Is that wrong?"
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