I wrote this story for my friend, who’s mentioned obviously. It’s fiction and as I’m not a writer myself, it’s not of great quality from a writer’s standpoint. I hope the story itself is enjoyable to all who read it.

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You open the door and come into my classroom. I stand up and walk over to greet you, reaching my hand out, shaking your hand and introducing myself. “Hello, I’m Miss Alexander, but you can call me Miss Monica.” You look up at me and reply, “Hi, I’m Tiffany.”

After releasing your hand, I walk over to the door and turn the latch to lock the door. Upon hearing the latch you turn around and ask me, “Why are you locking the door?” To which I reply, “This is to make sure we aren’t interrupted honey.” Your eyes widen a bit when you hear me call you ‘honey.’ Turning back around I look directly at you, noticing that you’re dressed very casual in a simple pair of pink soffe shorts and a purple tee shirt, looking you up and down, wondering what is hiding underneath.

“Tiffany, please have a seat and we’ll begin. I’m going to start by asking you a few questions. First, have you ever masturbated?”

“Y… Yes.”

“How often do you masturbate?”

“Maybe, once a week.”

“Well, that’s good. You should be comfortable with your body.”

I walk over to you, standing in front of you as you sit at the desk, looking down at you. “Tiffany, I want you to strip down to your underwear please.”

“I… I’m not wearing panties.”

“Okay, then take off your shirt please.”

Watching you nervously pull your shirt up and over your head, seeing that you’re only wearing a gray sports bra, I notice your nipples start to stiffen before my very eyes. Realizing that I should be trying to make you as comfortable as possible, I reach down, unbutton and unzip my jeans, pushing them down around my ankles, revealing my shiny pink bikini panties to you. Standing like that for a moment, unbuttoning my shirt and dropping it off my shoulders behind me on the floor, letting you get a view of my almost matching pink bra, holding my breasts up nicely.

Noticing that you’re staring up at my chest, I look at you for a minute, seeing if you realize that I’ve caught you.