Date: Tue, 25 Jun 2002 12:42:38 +0100
From: Kim Anderson <kima@supanet.com>
Subject: Passing Grade, Part One - TV Fiction

Passing Grade

(This is Part One of a larger work, incorporating "My Night With David".
Please send any comments to kima@supanet.com.

Hope you enjoy this - Kim)


Once I had made the decision, there was no going back.  I wasn't going to
pass the course by studying - that much I had decided.  Theory of Interest
was more course than I could manage.  I had tried my best, and my best
wasn't good enough.

Failure was not an option, however.  While the course wasn't considered
"core" to the Business Admin stream at Uni, a failure would bring my
average down, and I would be out.

But maybe there were other ways of passing.  So to speak.

It was a good size class.  It was unlikely the Professor knew me well
enough to recognise me.  And I was willing to do anything to get through
the course.  Anything at all.

I knew I would be taking a risk.  If this got out - well, I didn't even
want to think about that possibility!

Professor Daiken would be in his office for most of the day.  Tuesdays were
his days to be available to all students.  Let's see how available he could
be.

I considered my strategy as I selected my clothing from the darker recesses
of my wardrobe.  I wanted to show some skin, but not be too tarty.  I had
to seem respectable but attractive.  I eventually decided to wear the
fuschia print summer dress with the tie-front cardie.  Simple and pretty.
Quickly I laid out the accessories: floating heart pendant, kitten-heeled
sandals, breast enhancers, ankle bracelet.  Then I retired to the bathroom
to continue preparations.

Despite the late Spring heat, I drew a hot bath and luxuriated in it and
poured in a generous helping of bath salts to bring a healthy flush to my
skin.  As I soaked, I considered how the conversation with Professor Daiken
could go.

<<Oh, Professor Daiken.  Your intellectual genius makes me swoon!  Take me.
I'm yours.>> Hmm, a bit too forward, I thought.  And stupid.

<<What are you doing after class, Professor?>> Coy.  He might like it.  Or
it might go right past him.

I would have to make it up as I went.

I shaved my pits and my chest before I emerged from the tub into a large,
fluffy towel, and towel dried my hair.  Say what you like about men in
touch with their anima; at least they keep the bathroom clean and free from
mildew.  Wrapping the towel around me, I wiped the condensation from the
mirror, selected a new razor, applied lubricant and shaved as closely as I
could.  Fortunately, I had little in the way of facial hair and a close
shave was fairly easily done.  Now for the legs.

I had a Lady Remmington I used for this matter.  Unfolding a second towel
onto the floor, I stretched one leg out and rubbed Johnson's Baby Oil into
the skin.  Then carefully (probably more carefully than my face, if I'm
honest) I shaved the hair from my legs.

I wouldn't say my legs were my best feature (although in my heart of
hearts, I believed it to be true), but I hadn't had any complaints.  And I
always found a smooth, shiny pair of legs was always sexy.  You can have
your fishnets and your stockings (but not mine; I didn't say I didn't want
them).  Discretely exposed flesh is always best.

<<My job here is finished,>> I announced to no one in particular, and I
returned to the bedroom.

At my dresser, I removed my makeup bag and a large mirror which I propped
up.  I sprayed a large handful of styling mouse into my hands and worked
the foam into my hair.  Blow dryer and diffuser were applied with
dedication and soon my wavey blond hair had style and body.

I applied makeup sparingly.  I didn't want to seem like I was cruising for
piece of action.  Just enough to **sparkle**.  Eyeliner, mascara, and lip
gloss.  Fortunately, God, mum and Oil of Olay had given me clear,
well-moisturised skin.  Thanks to one and all.

Already feeling alarmingly perky, I selected my panties and bra set.  Coral
pink lace, the bra was padded to add oomph.  Which, sadly, I needed.  I
slid the panties up my legs, tucking my little man back and away before
pulling them up all the way.

I put the bra on, hooking it up at the back.  Then I settled the enhancers
into the pockets, and adjusted for effect.

When I had finished dressing, I turned to look in the full-length mirror on
the bathroom door.

<<Goodness, Lee, you look lovely!>> An accomplished job, if I did say so
myself.  >From the tips of my pretty, pink toes peeping from the sandals,
up past the curves and planes of an apparently shapely young woman, to my
bright smile, I was - to be immodest - delightful.  Prof Daiken wouldn't
know what hit him.

I grabbed my purse and left my flat, prepared to do battle.

* * *

The walk to campus was no more than fifteen minutes - the advantages of an
apartment close to campus.  In that time, I passed a few male students,
most of whom showed their approval by looking me up and down as I passed.
A couple of them - the cute ones - I favoured with a smile.  One boy with
his girlfriend got a sly wink as I went by.  His smile got broader, and she
suddenly clutched his arm, her eyes promising an unpleasant death.

Prof Daiken was on the third floor of the Macmillan House.  His door was
closed, but his office hours suggested he'd be in.  I knocked.

<<Come in.>>

The Professor was installed behind his desk, the space in front of him
taken up with a laptop.  The rest of the office was taken up with test
papers, text books and, behind a stack of papers that seemed to be on the
verge of throwing themselves onto the floor, was a vase with bouquet of
long-dead flowers.

<<Professor Daiken?>>

<<With you in a moment.>> Without looking up, he gestured toward the chair
in front of his desk, where his leather briefcase had pride of place.
Depositing it on the floor, I perched on the chair, my knees pressed
tightly together.  After a moment's thought, I pulled the hem of my dress
up a bit, exposing a bit more thigh.  Then I awaited my audience.

The Professor looked up finally.  <<Sorry.  I didn't want to lose the
thought.>> He closed the laptop, and removed his glasses.  <<What can I do
for you?>>

<<It's about Theory of Interest.>>

<<A moment, please.>> From his desk, he pulled a binder and opened it.
<<Are you in the class?>>

A good sign.  <<Yes, sir.  Lee Chadwick, sir.>>

He scanned the open page, and traced a line across it.  He looked up,
frowned, then looked again at the list of marks.  Are my marks that bad?

<<So, Lee, what can I do for you?>>

Here goes.  <<I'm not doing very well, am I, sir?>>

He shook his head.  <<Not particularly, I'm afraid.  Not this worst in the
class, but you could be better.>>

I could feel tears welling in my eyes.  A good trick if you can pull it
off.  <<Can I see?>>

He gestured with his head.  I rose and came around his desk.  He pointed to
the line next to my name.  I leaned forward as if to see more clearly,
although I new quite well what I would see.  But now he could smell my
hair, and feel the warmth of my body near his.  I stopped short of letting
one breast settle on his shoulder.  That would be too obvious.

<<Oh, dear.>> I clasped my arms around myself.  <<Not good, is it?  I wish
I knew what to do.>>

<<You've been coming to class regularly?>>

<<Yes.>>

<<And you've been doing the homework?>>

<<Yes.  As best I can.>>

He looked back at his binder.  <<I could give you a couple of names.
Students who might be able to help you.>>

<<Yeah, but...>> I waited until he looked back, and I let my eyes fill with
tears again. <<The exam is so close.  I'm afraid I might not learn it in
time to pull up my mark.>> I opened my purse for tissues I knew weren't
there.  <<I'm sorry.  Do you have a tissue?>>

The Professor dug around in his desk, and came up with a small packet.

<<Thank you.>> I dabbed at my eyes, careful not to smudge my mascara.  I
leaned on his desk, and took a deep breath.  I kept my head lowered when I
looked back at him, so that I'd been looking into his eyes through moist
lashes.  <<Is there anything you can do?>>

<<How do you mean?>>

<<Something... I can do to lift my mark?>>

<<I'm not sure ->>

<<I'm willing to consider anything that my get me a higher grade.>> I
stared deeply into his eyes.  <<Anything.>>

He frowned and turned away.  <<I think you're under a misapprehension.  I'm
not interested in trading sex for marks.>> He turned back, and looked me
once over.  <<In any event, I'm not homosexual.>>

<<Wh-what do you mean?>> Involuntarily, I took a step back.

<<I must admit, you make a very attractive young woman.  But you're not. I
remember making a mental note first day of class that "Lee" was Male.>> He
put the binder back into his desk.  <<I can still give you the names of a
couple of students.  If you like.>>

The tears that welled now were considerably more genuine.  <<Yes, sir.
Thank you.>>

He wrote a couple of names on a Post-it Note.  <<But I would suggest you
not dress that way for them.  It might be too distracting.>>

I mumbled a thanks.  Then gathering my purse and shattered ego, I fled his
office.


I locked myself into a cubicle in the Women's and tried to gather myself.
That went badly.  For a moment there, I thought I had made it.  He seemed
to find me attractive.  But -

God!  What if he mentions to my other teachers?  I could be looking at
public humiliation, or even expulsion.  My illustrious career - gone before
it's started.

I tried to rebuild my confidence.  Who would he mention this to?  And it's
not like I actually offered him sex, did I?  And he gave me the names of a
couple of students.  If had planned to have me expelled, would he have done
that?

Okay, then.  On to Plan B.  But carefully.

Plan B found me in the West Block of Physical Sciences Hall.  A prefab
addition to the 200-year-old building, West Block was a tight collection of
small offices for the Tutorial Assistants, those graduates working on their
Masters, who taught extra lessons for many of the Professors.  In
particular, it had the office of Daniel Harrison.

Daniel Harrison was Prof. Daiken's assistant.  A soon-to-be father, it was
well- known among the students that his wife was going through a bad
pregnancy, and that she was taking it out on him.  And that made him
pliable.

Having stopped to freshen up my makeup, I made my way to his office.
Office, hell.  It was a closet with two desks and strip lighting.

Danny was alone in the room, working on a paper.  <<Daniel Harrison?>>

<<Can I help you?>>

I stepped a little past the doorway.  <<Prof Daiken suggested I see you.>>

<<About?>>

<<Theory of Interest.>> I moved a little closer.  <<I'm... I'm having
problems in class, and he thought you might be able to help.>>

He gestured at the computer on his desk.  <<I'm a bit busy right now.>>

<<Oh!>> I laughed.  <<I didn't mean right now.  Whenever you're
available.>>

<<No, that's what I mean.  I have to get the next stage of my thesis
completed by the end of the month.  I'm sorry, but I don't have any free
time.>> He turned back to the screen.

<<I'd be willing to pay.>> He looked back at me, a faint flicker of
interest in his eyes.  <<It wouldn't be much.  I don't make much as a
waitress.  And I could throw in a home-cooked meal.>>

This was a triple-hook I was throwing at him: money, food and proximity to
a woman.  I could see it was of interest.

He pulled out his diary, and paged through the days.  <<When did you have
in mind?>>

<<When are you available?>>

He studied the page.  <<Tomorrow night's okay, I guess.  About 8?>>

<<Oh, that would be brilliant!>> I gave him my address, and phone number
and left with a promise that he would appear on my doorstep the next
evening.

That gave me little over a day to put the final touches on my "evil"
scheme.

Oh, come on.  It's not like anyone was going to get hurt.  Daniel would
(well, might) get a little of what he was missing, and I would get the
marks I needed and seemed to be unable to earn the traditional method.  And
his wife (the mother of his child)?  Well, it was up to him if he told her
or not.  Besides, it not as if I were actually planning to pay him.  He
might as well get something out of the evening.

* * *

Preparations the next day actually took less time than I thought.  The
sexstasy I already had from a party a few months earlier.  I had to rent a
video recorder from a shop in town.  Which necessitated almost emptying my
bank account to put down the deposit.  And I needed (yes, needed) a few new
things for my wardrobe.

I set the camera up discretely on my wardrobe.  I considered disguising it,
but I figured if I got Danny into my bedroom, the décor would be the
last thing on his mind.

I even managed to make a couple of classes before the day was out.  Then, a
quick bite to eat and it was time to prepare, well, myself.  I wanted to be
alluring without looking like I was baiting a trap.

Again, I climbed into the bed to soak, and made sure I had no
"inappropriate" hair on my body and face.  Once dry and powdered and
discretely perfumed, I pulled on a lacy pair of panties and my best
cleavage bra.  And the enhancers - mustn't forget the enhancers.

I pulled on my pair of stretch lycra jeans and a crop top.  I knew I'd look
casually sexy, especially my breasts.  Not at all out to snare some guy -
oh, no, not me.  Ankle bracelet, a couple of bangles, and my small hoop
earrings.  At the last minute, I decided to wear my flip-flops instead of
going barefoot.  Keep my feet a bit warmer.  And I found their gentle
slap-slap on the soles of my feet to be a turn-on.

I decided to go again with a "no makeup" look, except for my eyes, which I
subtly shaded to be a bit deeper and more inviting.  I scraped my hair back
into a clip, and combed out my fringe a bit.

Having finished the important preparations, I put a bottle of spaghetti
sauce on the stove to simmer.  Not that I was planning to feed him or
anything.  But I wanted him to think that, and I needed to fill the
apartment with the odour of something being made.

Finally, I opened my books on the kitchen table and waited for Danny.

When the buzzer went, I waited a moment before answering.  I didn't want
him to think I was waiting for him.  Languidly, I went to the door and
opened it.

Daniel looked nervous, as if he was out after curfew.  I tried not to
laugh, and invited him in.

<<Where are we going to study?>>

I led him to the kitchen table, trying not to sashay too much as I did.  I
wanted him to look at my ass, but I didn't want him to know that.

He dumped his books on the floor and rummaged around for his things: pen,
calculator, paper.  <<So,>> he said.  <<Where do you want to begin?>>

I sidled into the chair next to his, tucking one leg underneath me.  <<Uh,
the beginning?>>

He frowned at me, then opened my text.  <<Okay, do you know what interest
is?>>

<<Money paid by the bank into my savings account.>>

<<Yeah.  It's payback time.  The bank rewards you for keeping your money in
one place by paying you a little extra.>>

<<Speaking of which, can I get you something to drink?>>

<<What's that... ?>>

<<I'm keeping you in one place, so I should give you a little extra.>> And
how.

<<Oh.  Got any fruit juice?>>

<<Orange juice okay?>>

<<Great.>>

I went to the fridge.  <<I'm still listening, though.  Keep going.>>

<<Uh, it doesn't really matter if you understand what interest is,
actually.  All that matters in the exam is how to figure it out.>>

As he spoke, I pulled the sexstacy tab from the plastic bag in the bread
tin.  It would be a bit hard to dissolve in the juice.  So I pulled a spoon
from the drawer, and crushed it on the counter.  <<So, every year, you get
interest on your interest,>> I said over my shoulder.

<<Right!  Just so long as you leave the money in the account.  That's
compound interest in action.>>

I had to smile.  He's actually getting worked up about this.  I mixed the
tab into his orange juice and brought them to the table.

For the next few minutes, I played the attentive student, nodding and
working through questions with the patient teacher.  To my credit (and
his), I tried to do the questions, and I think I actually learned
something, too.  For a moment, I considered giving up my plan.

But Danny had finished his orange juice.  The tab would kick in soon, and
to send him home in that state - well, that wasn't really fair, was it?

I had moved a bit closer to him in the course of working through the
questions in the text.  My knee now casually pressed against his thigh.
Not hard; just enough to be noticeable.  We had stopped talking as he
waited for me to figure out the answer.  It was silent, except for the
sound of breathing.

I bit my lip and turned to look at him.  <<I just don't get it,>> I started
to say.

His gaze was lingering on my breasts.  As I watched, his eyes moved slowly
upward until they met mine.  Phase two commences.  <<Is anything wrong?>>

<<I, uh...>> He pulled his gaze away, turning back to the book.  <<No.
Everything's fine.>> He leaned over the book.  <<So, everything comes down
to the same formula.  You're given A, and i and n.>>

<<Which one's A?>>

<<The Amount.  See?  A for Amount.>> He looked back at me again, to see if
I was paying attention.  And I was.  Only not to the book.

I stared deeply into his eyes, lowered my head to look at him through
lashes, and smiled.  Poor dear, he looked confused - his mind telling him
one thing and his body another.  <<And the interest?>> I said.  <<Show me
the interest.>>

He was breathing hard now, deep breaths that filled his entire chest.  His
eyes flitted from my eyes, to my lips and back again.

Then he kissed me.

It was like a floodgate opening.  Suddenly he was all over me, his hands
running up and down my back and arms, his lips, hot and urgent, pressed
onto mine, his tongue exploring my mouth.  He leaned into me, pulling me to
him, one hand plunging down the back of my pants and kneading my ass, the
other under my crop top caressing my back.

<<Please...>> he whispered.  <<I need... Let me... Oh, god, you're so
beautiful.>>

He buried his face in my neck and kissed up the side of my face, stopping
to take my earlobe in his mouth, and nibble.

I was so turned on by this - to have a man begging me to make love.  I
could feel my little man straining to be free.

I lifted my leg over Danny and straddled him in his chair.  He cupped my
ass in his hands and ground his hips into mine.

I kissed him deeply, my tongue entwined with his, until he started to moan.
I pulled back to see his face, my hips still rising and descending on his
erection.  <<Do you like this?>>

He opened his eyes and smiled.  <<Do you have to ask?>>

<<How much?>>

He looked confused.  <<What do you mean?>>

<<Will you do anything to me?  Anything... for me?>>

<<I...>> Uncertainty filled his eyes, as he tried to work out what I was
asking.  I reached down and began to stroke him through his trousers.  His
breath caught in his throat.  <<yessss...>> he was finally able to say.

He whined as I got up from his lap.  I pulled him to his feet and drew him
to me for another kiss.  Again, his hands explored my body, touching my
ass, my back, my face.

He tried to touch me between my legs, to feel the place where I was most
hot.  Oops, not yet.  Don't want to spoil the party.

I took his hands and curled them under my ass.  I lifted myself up and
wrapped my legs around his hips, and he held me easily as I pressed my soft
belly to his hard-on, kissing him, my teeth gently pulling on his lower
lip, my hips rising and falling against him.  <<Wait here a moment.>>

<<No.>>

<<Wait.  Here.>> I got back on my feet, and disentangled myself from him.
Backing away, I made promises with my eyes as I went into my bedroom.

In the darkness, I started the videocamera.  I lit the few candles I had
placed around the room.  Perfect.  I pulled my jeans off and folded them
onto the dresser.

Arranging myself on the bed, I called out to him, and bid him to enter.
<<I'm ready.>>

His silhouette filled the doorway as he paused to take in the tableau: the
candles, the bed, and me, legs outstretched, arms reaching out, almost
naked and all his.  He sat on the side of the bed, and gathered me in his
arms.  <<You're a goddess.>> He crushed his lips to mine as his hands ran
around my back, pulling me to him.

<<You're too dressed,>> I said when his mouth left mine.  He pulled his
shirt off, and, kicking off his shoes, undid his trousers.  <<Slowly,>> I
admonished.  <<I want to watch you.>>

Laughing, he turned toward me, and trying to grind his hips like a
stripper, he slowly dropped his boxers.

I gasped and reached forward to grasp his erection.  I ran my hands along
the length of him, swollen and standing proudly, warm and hard between my
fingers.  <<Has anyone told you you have a beautiful cock?>> I bent to kiss
it.

When I looked back up, his face had changed.  He sat on the edge of the
bed, and turned away from me.  <<My wife has.>>

Uh-oh.  I rubbed his back with my feet and encircled his waist with my
legs.  <<Come lie with me, lover.>>

He didn't move.  <<I have to go.>>

<<Do you?>>

He nodded.  <<I'll probably regret this.  But if I stay, I'll regret that
for the rest of my life.>>

<<We don't have to have sex.>> I got to my knees and pulled at his arm.
<There's lots of other things we could do.>> I reached into his lap for his
penis, but he held firm on my wrist.

<<No.  Please don't.>> He started putting his clothes back on.

I flopped back onto the bed.  Pulling my pillow from under my head, I
hugged it fiercely.  <<Okay.  Fine.  Goodbye.>>

He stood again in the doorway to my bedroom.  <<Goodbye, Lee.>>

<<A kiss before you go?>> A last-ditch attempt.

Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling sadly.
<<I don't think so.  I don't think I could resist a second time.>>

And with that, he was gone.

Well, isn't this lovely.  Two rejections in two days.  I was really
starting to doubt my appeal.

I dragged myself from the bed and stepped into the bathroom.  The harsh
bathroom light did nothing for my self-esteem.  I looked bedraggled.  My
hair was a mess, my lipstick smeared around my mouth like I was six and
trying to dress like my mommy.  My enhancers had shifted, leaving me
lopsided.  I was about as attractive as a hangover.

<<Oh, this will not do.>> If I didn't do something quick, I'd lose the
self- confidence that was, in truth , the essence of being en femme - to
know you look good, and act on that knowledge.

The night was still young.  I would go out to a couple of bars, break a few
hearts, and come home happier with myself.

Quickly I cleaned myself up.  I reapplied my makeup, this time going for a
much less subtle look: smokey, "come hither" eyes, scarlet lips, cheeks
that could cut you with a touch.  I dressed in my favourite purple and
black garter and panties set, and my black satin bustier.  I clipped a pair
of stockings to the garter, and pulled on a skirt suit.  Slipping into my
black pumps and clipping on earrings, necklace and bracelet, I was prepared
once again to face the world.

* * *

At Sebastian's every day's the weekend.  Always packed with people, always
hopping.  The barkeep kept drinks flowing and the DJ kept the people
moving.

I had no problem getting past the doorman - it's a unwritten law women are
allowed in as soon as they arrive.  Men - they have to wait until someone
else leaves.  Score one for my girlie side.

I had no sooner made it to the bar to get a drink than I was deflecting my
first (bad) pick-up line.  <<Hey, don't I know you?>>

As it happened, it was a guy from one of my classes - I don't remember his
name, and it's unlikely I ever would learn it.  There are just some people
you know you'll never have any reason to get to know.  And he was one of
them.  <<We've never met.>> I took my drink and pushed my way through the
crowd.

Even in this supposedly liberated era, men still tend to make way for
women.  I had no problem escaping.  Score two for my girlie side.  Not that
I was keeping score.

I kept myself to myself, just looking over the talent on display.  Seeing
who was alone, and who was with someone.  And who could be stolen away.

I saw a couple at one of the tables.  She was trying to talk to him, and he
was looking into the crowd.  Last stop, honey.  All change, please.  All
change.

As his gaze swung around to me, I caught his eye.  Not smiling, but not
looking away.

He tried to smile, to get me to smile back, but I kept my face impassive.
He continued to look at me, hoping for a reaction.  Which he didn't get.
Finally, as the last of his self-confidence seemed to have slipped away,
and he was about to look away, I smiled slyly.  Like I had been sharing a
joke with him.  He grinned, pleased and relieved that he had had a response
from me.

His girlfriend noticed that not only wasn't he paying attention to her, he
seemed to be paying attention to someone else.  She turned to look at me.
We sized each other up.  I smiled at her.

She turned back to him, said a few sharp words and left him at the table.
Here was the test of whether he was free to roam or not.  Would he follow?

With a shrug and a smile at me, he followed her into the crowd.  <<Pussy
whipped,>> I muttered.  Ah, well, there was further fun to be had here.

Sizing up the crowd, I could see there was a certain degree of talent to be
found.  A couple of the faces I recognised, either from campus or from my
infrequent visits to Sebastian's.

I had thought to work the crowd, to go forth and seek ye.  But no, that
would be too much like an effort.  Let them come to me.

I sat at the table, one leg crossed over the other, and played with the
straw in my drink, looking over there, smiling over there.  Just letting
the bait drift in the currents and see which fish were catchable.  Not that
I was really interested.  I was here to massage my bruised ego, not to
actually catch anything.  So to speak.

A couple of the more robust, uh, "salmon" (Trout?  Certainly not tuna.
Hmm, continuing this metaphor was becoming problematic.) showed some
promise; each were rewarded with a more lingering evaluation.

One in particular - tall, dark brown wavy hair, nice smile - threw me a
penetrating look which I held for a lingering moment, before looking away,
as if disinterested.  The truth was, there was a little quiver in my
panties that said there was certainly some interest.  I looked back.  He
was still looking my way, still smiling.  I couldn't help returning his
smile.

Before anything further could happen, however...

I saw him out of corner of my eye before he appeared in front of me: that
fellow student.

<<I'm sure I know you.>>

<<We've never met.>>

<<Maybe here.>>

<<It's my first time.>>

He kept this up, badgering me with questions about my life, trying to find
out where he had seen me.  It was an effort to create an entire life on the
fly, but I think I did rather well.  But the effort was beginning to tell,
and I longed for rescue.  I looked toward my brown haired man for support.

He was gone.

Was this to be my fate, then.  Trapped by a nebbish, abandoned by a hunk,
forever alone and unloved.  Oh, cruel, heartless destiny!  (Perhaps I
missed my calling.  Perhaps I should be on stage.)

The nebbish at my elbow continued to muse on the place of our first
meeting.  The enjoyment of the evening swiftly evaporating, I prepared to
return to home.

The drink descended to the table like nectar from the gods.  <<Sorry I took
so long.  The line-up at the bar is murder.>>

My brown-haired boy, my hero had come to the rescue.  <<I was beginning to
think you'd left altogether,>> I said, my little heart all aquiver in
gratitude.

Standing closely at my side, he reached across the table to introduce
himself to my interrogator.  <<David.>>

<<John.>> They shook hands.

<<What did you get me?>> I took a sip of my drink.

<<Same as you had.>>

<<No, it's not.>>

He rolled his eyes.  <<Do you like it?>>

<<Well... yes.>>

<<Then stop your complaining, woman.>>

We had completely ignored John, and, thank god, he took the hint.  <<I
should be going.>>

<<Nice to meet you,>> I said without sincerity.  When he had left,
disappearing into the crowd, I turned to thank my rescuer.  <<You're a
lifesaver.  Thank you.>>

<<You're welcome.  So, what is your name?>>

<Lee,>> I laughed.  <<And you're David.>>

<<Nice to meet you, Lee.>>

<<Nice to meet you, David.>>

He was nice company: attentive, intelligent, gentle sense of humour.  We
spent the next hour talking a bit (a nightclub is not the best place for
conversation), but mostly just looking and laughing.  We danced a bit, but
finally, we both knew the evening was drawing to a close.

We stood on the street corner, both of us preparing to go our separate
ways.

We said our goodbyes.  Then he bent to kiss me.  I turned my face upward to
meet his lips.  The kiss lingered longer, and said more than mere words
could.

He asked if he could take me home.

I felt alive; I was a fool.  I said yes.

When we arrive at the flat he shared with 3 mates, we could hear the tv
still on.

<<Matt, this is Lee.>>

Matt was slouched on the couch, watching some late-night tv program
involving car chases and beautiful women.  <<Nice to meet you,>> he said,
getting up from the couch to shake hands with me.

<<Nice to meet you,>> I responded.

<<Well, we're...>> David nodded in the direction of his room, and the two
of us took our leave.

We retired to his room.  I climbed onto his bed, and tucked my legs up
under me, enjoying the way David looked at me.

<<Do you have anything to drink?>> I asked.

<<Maybe.  Probably.  Do you like beer?>>

The funny thing was, I did like beer, but not when I was "otherwise"
attired.  I preferred girlie drinks when I was a girlie. <<I suppose...>> I
answered.

As David went on his quest, I turned on his stereo, and found late-night
station that wasn't playing either dance music or something too esoteric.
David returned with 2 cans of Grolsch, and we sat on the bed and drank.

I could feel the warmth of his hip against mine.  I put my beer down on the
floor, and when I straightened up, his face was there.  I pressed my lips
to his, softly.  Just a little kiss.  Then another, more lingering than the
first.  I could feel a heat rush, beginning in my groin and spreading
throughout my body.  Holding myself - and him - back, I looked into his
eyes, my fingers playing with his hair.

<<David...>> I started.

<<Yes.>>

<<There's... something we need to discuss.>> I had let him bring me here
under false pretences.  I knew that.  I had deliberately been coquettish
and provocative.  I shouldn't have come here.  But I had been enjoying
myself, and I didn't want it to stop.  <<I'm...oh, dear.>> I took a deep
breath.  <<I'm a boy.>>

To his credit, he didn't immediately punch me.  He looked at me, alarm and
wistful pain in his eyes, as he tried to decide if this was some sort of
cruel joke.

<<I think you should go, >> he said finally.

Nodding, I rose from the bed.  <<For what it's worth, it was nice meeting
you, David.>> He said nothing in response.

As I turned the door handle, a thought occurred to me.  <<I can't leave
now. >>

He looked at me sharply, an argument forming on his lips.  <<Matt has just
seen us,>> I added quickly.  <<If I leave so soon, he can only think the
worst.>>

David considered this for a moment.  <<Finish your beer.  Then go.>>

I scooped my beer from the floor and perched on the edge of his desk.  I
tried to engage him in some small talk, but he was (understandably) sullen
and unresponsive.  Poor dear.  I wanted to help, but I couldn't think of a
single thing to do.  (Actually, I could think of a few things, but I was
fairly certain he wouldn't be interested.)

As I chattered, and he grunted the occasional response, I couldn't help but
notice that he kept sizing me up.  At first, I thought he just couldn't
bring himself to look me in the eye.  Gradually, however, I saw that his
gaze was lingering on my black- stockinged ankles and legs, and my breasts,
and my throat.  A warmth started to fill me, and I felt the devil inside me
giving directions.

I stood and unzipped my skirt.

David almost stood in alarm.  <<What are you doing?>>

<<I don't want this to get to creased,>> I said casually.

David spluttered, <<But... but...>>

<<Relax,>> I assured him.  <<It's just us guys, here.>>

The skirt dropped with a sigh.  I collected it from the floor.  <<Any
chance of a hanger?>>

David didn't appear to trust his voice, simply thrusting his chin at the
closet by way of response.  I selected an empty hanger, and draped the
skirt carefully.  As an afterthought, I removed my jacket, and hung that
up, as well.  Then I turned.

He had pulled himself up onto his bed, and was practically huddling under
the blanket.  Smiling to myself, I sat again, crossing one leg over the
other.  <<Any chance of another beer?>> I ventured.

<<I thought you said you were going.>>

<<We need to give it enough time,>> I countered.

Reluctantly, he rose and left the room, returning a few moments later with
a Fosters.  I took it and put it on the desk beside me.  I had no intention
of drinking it.  I had just wanted him out of the room.

While he had been gone, I had run a quick brush through my hair, and put on
some lipstick.  I had spritzed a little perfume into my hair and onto my
legs.  As an afterthought, I had spritzed a little scent onto his pillow,
too.

He returned to his defensive position in the corner of the bed.  I
continued to try to engage him in small talk.  If anything, he was even
more unresponsive.  At least verbally.

I could tell that the sight of a woman undressed down to her lingerie was
having a decided effect on him, and that my perfume was working its own
magic.  Never mind that he knew I carried more than one small bag.  In some
ways, I was more alluring: I was forbidden.  And I knew it.

His eyes followed slowly up my legs, caressing me with his gaze.  I could
see him taking in the sheer black stockings, the black and purple garter
and matching panties, and my black satin bustier that swelled with my
(enhanced) breasts.  I watched him look longingly at my mouth, red and
moist with lipstick.  I parted my lips and quickly ran my tongue over them,
and saw him unconsciously mimic my actions.

I uncrossed and recrossed my legs, the stockings making that sweet noise as
I did so.  His eyes snapped to my thighs, parting and unparting, and knew
that I had him.  I could tell he liked what he saw, and was confused by the
attraction.

A tune came on the radio that always got me in the mood to move. <<Come
dance with me,>> I said.

I rose to my feet and began to dance.  David watched, like a mouse watches
a cobra, his eyes never leaving me.  I tried to be nonchalant, like I was
simply enjoying the music, and not also enjoying my effect on him.

<<Come on,>> I repeated.  <<It's only a dance.>> I reached out to him.

<<I don't dance,>> he answered.

<<Of course, you do.  It's only a dance.  Just like at the club.  Come on.
No one will have to know.>> I took his hand and pulled him to his feet.  He
stood for a few measures, not moving, while I swayed in time with the
music, my eyes closed.  I moved unselfconsciously, letting the music take
me where it wanted.  Even if David weren't going to enjoy himself, I would.

He started finally to dance, taking small steps in time with the music.  He
was right: he didn't dance.  But at least he was moving.

I turned toward him, swaying from the hips.  I raised my arms, my breasts
lifting as well.

<<See?  You can too dance,>> I lied.  David smiled and blushed and
increased his efforts.  Despite his terpsichorean inadequacies, he was
charming.  I leant forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

He looked at me quizzically, but didn't stop dancing.  <<What'd you do that
for?>>

<<Just wanted to,>> I shrugged.  <<Do I need a reason?>>

<<Well, stop.  Just stop.>>

I shrugged again.

We danced through a second song when, finally, something slower came on.
At last, I thought.

As David turned to sit back on the bed, I caught his wrist.  <<Please,>> I
said.  <<One more dance.>>

I could see the indecision in his eyes.  I moved my hips gently.  <<C'mon.
No one has to know.>>

He turned toward me, slipping his arm around my waist, trying to maintain
some small distance between our bodies.

I could tell that the warmth and the nearness of my body were having the
desired effect, as the distance between us diminished.  I put my head on
his shoulder, and toyed with his hair.  I could feel him swell, and knew it
was time to make my move.

I leaned back to look into his eyes, at the same time pressing my pelvis
into his. His shaft dug into my belly, and his eyes were drawn to mine.  I
moistened my lips and parted them.  <<Kiss me,>> I whispered.

And suddenly, we were kissing, his mouth on mine, our tongues entwined. His
hands had left mine, and were now holding my head and defining the curve of
my ass, pulling me into him, grinding against me, as I gyrated against him.

I could feel my little man harden, and was glad that my panties held me in
check.  I wanted his need for me to be insatiable before all would be
revealed.

His mouth left mine, and traced the contour of my neck, stopping to place
hot, wet kisses on my collarbone.  He cupped my left breast in his hand,
and tried to kiss my nipple through the satin of my bustier, tugging on the
material with his teeth.  I gasped in appreciation, and reached down with
both hands to undo his belt, and his trousers, finally slipping my hand
into his shorts to stroke his manhood.

He leaned back and took a ragged breath.  <<Get naked.>> He pulled his
clothing off in record time, and stood before me, his chest rising and
falling, his erection jutting outward.

I gently bent him downward, and placed his stiff cock between my thighs.
Standing on one foot, with my hands on his shoulders for support, I stroked
him with my thighs (and my own cock!), looking into his eyes.  <<Like
that?>>

<<yes.>>

I dismounted and went back to stroking him between my hands, until he could
barely trust his legs.

Holding him in one hand, I placed the other on his chest, and pushed him
gently backward to his bed.  <<Lie down.>> The edge of the bed folded his
legs, and he did as he was told.

I knelt at his feet, in supplication to his readiness.  His cock rose, firm
and ready, from between his legs.  I took his testicles in one hand and
stroked him with the other.  <<Shall I continue?>> He nodded assent.

Getting onto my knees, I reached for his glans with pink tip of my tongue.
I flick the delicate skin running down the underside of him.  I swirled my
tongue around the head, tasting his sticky saltiness.  His cock grew
further in size, as David lay back on his bed.

Taking a deep breath, I popped his shaft through the tight "o" of my mouth.
David gasped, and reached for me, burying his hands in my hair.  I sucked
him as far into my mouth as I could, then drew away until he was almost,
almost out of my mouth.  Then again, I drew him into my mouth, taking him
further than the first time, my tongue stroking him, playing with him, his
hands pressing harder on the back of my head.

My own shaft was uncomfortably hard in my panties.  I rubbed my thighs
together, squirming in delightful frustration.  I wanted to touch myself,
to bring myself to climax. But not quite yet.

Again David plunged into my hot, yielding mouth.  I opened my throat as far
as I could, and took all of him.  The hair around his cock tickled my nose,
and his balls pressed against my chin.  David groaned.  <<oh, yes, yes.>>

I face-fucked him more, harder, drawing him again and again into my moist,
hot hole, until I could tell he was almost to the point of no return.
Reluctantly, I withdrew from him.

Gasping with disappointment, David opened his eyes.  <<Don't stop.>>

<<Lover, we've hardly even begun.>>

I got to my feet, and swayed before him, my hands running over my face and
hair, and sliding down my hips and thighs (don't touch, don't touch),
finally cupping my breasts, and thrusting them forward.  <<Want to fuck my
tits?>>

His eyes lit up at the prospect. Still undulating, grinding my hips in the
air, I began to undo the front-fastening hooks.  I had to be careful not to
lose the illusion of cleavage that I had worked so hard to create.  I knew
I had enough to satisfy him, but he might be disappointed to see me go from
a generous B-cup to a more "natural" AA.

Holding my breasts in place with one arm, I kicked my shoes off.  I took
David by the wrist, and pulled him to his feet.  He gathered me in his
arms, and crushed his lips to mine.  I put my free arm around his neck,
running my fingers through his hair and tickling his ear.

Pulling away, I sat on the bed and arranged myself for his pleasure.  My
bustier was completely undone, my breasts free for his caress.  He climbed
over me, his knees on either side of my hips, and gently lowered himself
until his cock met my cleavage, his hands either side of my head, holding
himself up.

Surreptitiously, I removed my "enhancements" from the bustier, and pressed
the soft folds of my flesh onto either side of his shaft.  Immediately, he
started to thrust, slowly at first, then with more and more abandon.  As
his head came close each time, I blew on it, or tried to lick it, and was
rewarded with more than a few tongues of pre-cum.

<<Do you like this?>>

<<oh.  oh, yes.  yes.  yes.>>

I'm going to ruin you for other women.  I smiled wryly at the thought.
<<Want to try something else?>>

Bringing himself under control, he crane his neck to look into my eyes.
<<Get up a minute.>>

He got back onto his knees.  I sat up and kissed him again, the slight
spattering from his cock smearing between our chests.  I kissed his cheek
and his neck, and licked his ear.  My hands went around his erection,
playing with him, keeping him aroused and interested.  I nibbled on his
earlobe and whispered, << I want you inside me.>>

<<But I thought...>>

I pulled my legs out from under him, and stood again.  I turned away from
him, and wiggled my bum at him.  Turning to smile at him, I saw him look
from my eyes to my shapely ass.  I put my fingers under the waistband of my
panties, pulling them down to my knees, then letting them drop to the
floor.  My own erection stood before me, still hidden from David's view.
All he saw were my naked shoulders and back, my waist encircled by my
suspender belt, my two pert cheeks, and my legs, still encased by nylon.

I bent from the waist (as best I could) and parted my ass cheeks with my
hands.  <<Don't you want me?>>

His response was immediate.  He stood, and pressed his cock into my crack.
I caught his hands as they gathered around me, making certain he didn't
touch my little man.  I put one hand to my mouth and led the other to my
breast.

Grinding into my ass, he kissed my neck and hair.  I turned my head to
catch his mouth, and taste his tongue, and we held that position for a
moment.  I moved my hips left and right, then lifted my leg to rub his with
my stocking.  <<Are you ready, darling?>>

<<Oh, yeah.>>

<<One thing, first.>> Swiftly, I opened my purse, and took out a condom.
<<For the lubrication.  Do you want me to put it on you?>>

<<yes.>>

This was the tricky part.  I had to turn toward him without spoiling the
illusion.  I hoped that he would be concentrating on his own pleasure to
notice he wasn't the only one carrying a, erm, "torch".

<<There.  We're ready.>>

I assumed the doggy position and awaited my lover, my ass spread wide and
eager for his presence.  He approached me and put his head up to my
cunthole.  <<Do it, David.  Take me.>>

He thrust, and first met resistance.  I spread myself wider, and threw my
head back in anticipation.  We both pushed harder.  I could feel his head
enter me.  I moaned, my legs suddenly weak with pleasure.

David put his hands on my hips, and drew me closer.  He continued to thrust
slowly into me.  I took him in, feeling, loving the way he filled me up,
the pain and pleasure equally exciting.

Finally all the way in, he began to slide back out.  The feeling was
electric.  I pushed my bum toward him, reluctant to let him go.  He slid
back into me, a little faster, still yet to establish a rhythm.  Then in,
and out, and in and out, he plunged into me, harder and faster.  I arched
my back and joined with the motion.

He bent forward and kissed as far up my back as he could reach.  I
stretched my hand down between my legs and tried to cup his balls.

He was pounding into me now, again, again, again.  My arms shook with
tension.  He moaned his pleasure, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

I was alive.  I felt alive and beautiful.  Our union was a fire that burned
hot within me.  I could feel him moving within me, exciting and excited.
He was hard and strong and fucking me, fucking me.

I was aware of everything: his hands on my hips, my stockinged legs pressed
close against his, his balls slamming into my ass.  And his beautiful
penis, filling me up.

His rhythm changed, his breath sharp pulses.  I needed him to do one more
thing.

<<P-please.  Touch me.>>

His hand grasped my cock, and we came together, I all over his bed, and he
all into my ass.

<<oh, god.  oh, god.>>

I fell onto his bed, David still inside me.  I felt my cum squish all over
my belly, but I didn't care.  I could feel his breath on my neck as he
panted with relief.  I reached behind me and stroked his face, and he
kissed my fingers in response.

After an eternity, he stirred again.  <<That... was amazing.>>

<<Yes. I was, wasn't I?>> He chuckled and, despite my whimpered objections,
started to withdraw.

As he disposed of the condom, I turned over and arranged myself away from
the wet spot.  His gaze travelled slowly up my body to my face.  Of the
illusion I had worn when I entered his room, I had only the stockings and
the smeared remnants of my carefully applied makeup.  Would I still attract
him?  Or was the party over?

Would this be the part of the show where I'm thrown half-naked, out into
the street?

He smiled.  <<You're beautiful.>>

I could breathe again.  <<Liar.  My hair's a mess.>>

We looked into each other's eyes, until, finally, he took the hint and
kissed me.

I would have liked to stay the night, except that the light of morning does
terrible things to the glow of the night before.  So, I stayed a bit
longer, while we cuddled and kissed, and finally, he started to go to
sleep.

Gently extracting myself from under his arm, I gathered my clothes
together.  I didn't want to wake David, so I went to the bathroom.

For the second time that day, I saw myself in a less-than-satisfactory
state - makeup smeared, hair a mess.  But this time, there was that
unmistakable glow that says you've just had a great night of sex.

I hadn't brought a lot of makeup with me: just the basics - lipstick,
compact, eyeshadow.  I cleaned up as best I could with tissue paper,
resolving that next time, I will also carry one of those makeup remover
samples from the magazines.  Next time.  Now, there's a thought!

I touched up and fixed up what I could, then slipped on my panties and
bustier, and re-inserted my enhancers.  Fortunately, my stockings had
survived our pas de deux.  Satisfied that I had done what I could, I left
the bathroom.

Matt (the roommate) was waiting in the hallway when I exited.  His eyes
nearly fell out of his head as he looked me up and down.

<<I'm not really here.  This is all a dream.>> I slipped into David's room.

<<I'll say,>> he replied.

I put on my suit and my shoes, kissed David on the forehead - he looked so
cute when he was asleep - and left his room.  On his dresser, I left a
note: Dear David, Last night was wonderful.  We should do this again.  And
I left a number that wasn't mine.  In some ways, I was enchanted by the
idea of drifting into his life, and changing it forever, only to disappear
by the morning light.

It was almost dawn before I got home.  I quickly stripped and showered and
threw myself into my bed for a few hours sleep before classes.  In
particular, Theory of Interest.  My last thoughts before my eyes closed
were, This should be fun.  Not.

* * *

I went to class in boy-drag, and took the seat furthest from the front of
the class.  I kept my head down, asked absolutely no questions, and tried
to will myself to be invisible.

Prof Daiken, for the most part, conducted class as usual.  There was only
one brief moment, as we all worked on the board questions, that I looked up
to see him staring at me.  I quickly put my head back down.

When the bell went, I was the first out the door.

I didn't have a lot of friends in school.  My... preoccupation left me with
no need to get close to anyone else. Who could I trust?

The rest of the day was uneventful.  When I arrived home, I had the usual
amount of homework to do, as well as continue to cram for the upcoming
exams.

It was about 8:30 when there was a knock at the door.  Very odd.  I peered
through the peephole at my unexpected visitor.

It was Prof Daiken.  I opened the door.

<<I'm sorry to disturb...>>

<<That's fine.  Would you like to come in?>>

<<No.  I... can't stay.  I just wanted to be sure you were okay.>>

<<Fine, thanks.>> He had a look in his eyes that suggested he had other
questions?  <<Why were you concerned?>>

He tried to shrug casually.  <<You went to a lot of effort the other day.
I was concerned that for you to be that desperate...>>

<<You mean the... offer?>>

<<Yes, but even the, uh, the dressing up.>>

I was starting to feel uncomfortable.  <<Could we continue this discussion
inside, please?>>

<<Well, it's okay.  I mean, you're okay.  And that's all I was here to find
out.>>

<<Yes.  Thank you.>> I started to close the door.

<<You were very pretty.>>

Ah.  I opened the door again.  <<Thank you.>> I looked him in the eyes
until he blushed and looked away.  <<Did you want to see me again?>>

<<No, I... I ->>

<<No strings attached?>>

He nodded, like he couldn't trust his voice.  I thought for a moment he was
going to cry.  Then he smiled, a shy, little smile, and it was like he was
sixteen and asking for his first date.  <<Friday night?>>

<<That would be fine,>> I said.  <<What should I wear?>>

<<I thought dinner and a movie, so nothing too dressy.>>

We quickly finalized arrangements, and he left, a happier man than when had
arrived.

Nothing too dressy, my great aunt Fanny.  On Friday, he would get the
works!

* * *

>From a Wednesday night point of view, I was really looking forward to my
date with Prof Daiken.  From a Friday afternoon, however, I was a case of
nerves.  Class earlier in the day hadn't helped.  Prof Daiken didn't look
at me once.  His expression was grim, and he seemed to be in a foul mood,
snapping at students for interrupting his lecture with questions.

Maybe I should back out of the date.  Which might have been easier if I had
a phone number or some way of getting in touch with him.  No, I would get
ready, and let the chips fall where they may.

I started my preparations about 4-ish and was fit to be seen in public by
just past six.  At 6:30, the doorbell went.  It was Prof Daiken, looking
extremely uncomfortable.  <<May I come in?>>

<<Of course.>> I closed the door behind him.  <<Would you like something to
drink before we go?>>

<<Uh, no.>> His eyes flitted around the room, never resting on anything,
and not looking at me.  This would not do.  I had spent considerable time
getting ready for him, and the least he could do was notice me.  I decided
to press the issue.  <<How do I look?>>

His eyes took me in, running from head to toe and back again.  I was
wearing my black organza palazzo pants and a turquoise blouse with
tie-string back.  I knew I looked good, but I wanted him to say so.  Every
girl needs a little ego stroking.

I could tell he liked the way I looked; it was in his eyes and in his
smile.  When he finally said, <<You look very nice,>> I was pleased.  But
he definitely had something else on his mind.

<<Is something the matter?>>

He took a deep breath.  Uh-oh, I thought.  <<I'm worried,>> he said.
<<About people seeing us together.>>

<<Two people out for the evening?>>

<<A professor and his student.>>

I smiled and twirled around in front of him.  <<Look at me.  Do you think
anyone's going to recognise me as any of the students?>>

<<No one's going to recognise you as... you.  But they still may think
you're one of my students.>>

Putting my hand to his face, I searched his eyes.  <<Let's go somewhere out
of town, then.>>

He kissed my hand and nodded.

Several minutes later, we arrived at a small town inn that we had seen from
the highway.  I waited in the car while Greg went in to determine its
suitability.  He returned and held the door open for me.  <<Our table
awaits.>>

<<Thank you, kind sir.>> I waited in front of the inn, as Greg parked the
car.  Then we entered together.

The inn was charming: a tiny olde English style nested in the trees at the
edge of a forest.  We were given a corner table by a window looking into
the woodland.  The maitre-d' held my chair then departed to let us get
settled.

I could see, even by the candlelight, that Greg had relaxed considerably,
and was starting to enjoy himself.  <<It's nice to see you smile.  You look
much younger.>>

<<Do I look old?>>

<<You know what I mean.>>

The meal passed quietly in conversation and fine dining.  During dessert, I
slipped my foot from my shoe and ran my toes over his ankle.  He looked up
from his chocolate mousse, his eyes twinkling.  <<Perhaps you'd better stop
that.>>

<<Stop what?>>

<<Toying with my trousers.>>

<<Of course.  How's this, then?>> I lifted my foot up and placed it
squarely between his legs.  He started, and struggled to maintain his
composure.

I wiggled my toes.  <<Do you want me to stop this, too?>>

I could feel him swell under the ball of my foot.  I stroked him through
the material of his trousers and squeezed him with my first two toes.

He swallowed and his eyes went out of focus.  <<I regret to say that you'll
have to stop that, as well.>>

I smiled and continued my ministrations.  <<You don't like it?>>

<<On the contrary, I like it too well.  This may soon lead to some...
embarrassment.>>

<<Oh.>> I dropped my foot.  He made a slight gasping noise, and sat still
for a few moments.  Then, he picked up his fork and returned to his
dessert.

The meal concluded with me behaving myself.  By now, it was getting late,
and Greg returned me to my apartment.

<<Would you like to come in?>>

<<No.>>

I was surprised at that.  I turned, and leaned against the doorframe,
tucking my hands under my bum.  <<I'm disappointed.  Are you sure?>>

<<No,>> he smiled.  <<Please don't ask me again.>>

<<I don't understand.>>

<<It's our first date.  I want to be a gentleman.>>

I was pleased and disappointed.  <<Well,>> I said finally.  <<I guess this
is good night.>> I put my hands around his neck and pressed my lips to his.
<Good night.>> I turned and sought my door keys in my purse.

Greg took my shoulder and turned me back to face him.  <<Good night.>> He
took me in his arms, and kissed me sweetly.  Not without passion, but with
restraint.  Nose to nose, he looked into my eyes.  <<I want to watch,>> he
whispered.

<<Watch what?>>

<<You.  The transformation into you.>>

It had never occurred to me that my getting ready might be of interest to
anyone else.  Surely it was the outcome that held the greatest interest.

I searched his face for deceit, some clue that he was up to something.  He
looked away with honest embarrassment.  <<Come by Sunday night.>>

He smiled and kissed me again.  <<Sunday.>> And he was gone.

Alone in my apartment, my mind was in a whirl of confusion.  I was the one
who was supposed to be seducing, but this man had practically reduced me to
begging. If we had remained a moment longer in the hallway, I might have
thrown him to the floor and forced myself on him.

This would not do.

* * *

Saturday was spent in a state of confusion.  I didn't precisely know what
he was hoping for.  Obviously a certain frisson, a prolonged moment of
voyeurism, I assumed.

And I had to admit that some days (most days, actually) that I dressed,
there was a charge in seeing the results taking shape in the mirror.  I
could only hope that it would be as good for him as it had, on occasion,
been for me.

I spent Sunday afternoon cleaning the apartment, and once again
distributing candles around my bedroom.  As an afterthought, I pulled them
from my bedroom, and put them around the living room.  I also set up the
videocamera (ooh, must get that back before Tuesday) in a surreptitious
corner.  How I would turn it on was another question.

I had thought to put out my clothes for the evening, then decided to let
him decide.  He might enjoy dressing me.

A sudden thought occurred to me that I would need something to drink.
Unlike his assistant, Greg would undoubtedly want something more than fruit
juice.  I pulled on my shoes, and went down the hall to the neighbours.

I had lived next door to Adrian for a few months now, but apart from the
occasional hello in the hall, we had hardly spoken to each other.

And now I stood at his door, hoping to get a favour.

<<Hi, you're...>>

<<Lee.  From next door.  And you're Adrian.>>

<<Yeah.  Sorry.  I'm terrible with names.  So, what's up?>>

<<I need a favour.  You wouldn't happen to have a bottle of wine I could
borrow?  I've got company coming over, and I forgot to get something to
drink.>>

He smiled.  <<I think I've got something.  Hang on a minute.>> He
disappeared into his apartment and returned with a bottle of red.  <<Will
this do?>>

<<I'm sure it will be fine.  Thanks a million.>>

<<No problem.  Uh...>>

<<I'll return it to you later this week.  Okay?>>

<<Like I said, no problem.  Is that your sister?>>

Had he seen me?  <<Well, my sister has come to visit for a little while.>>

<<Yeah, she looks like you, so I figured.  How long she here for?>>

<<Can't tell, really.  She's between jobs, so she's staying with me for a
bit.  So, you'll probably see her again.>>

<<I'm sure I will.  Wish her luck on the job hunt.>>

<<Thanks.  I will.>>

I got back to my apartment, a smile on my lips.  Well, that's interesting.
I would have to play this very carefully, what with Adrian being so close
to home.

I put the wine on the counter with two glasses.  Then I sat down to wait.

Greg arrived about 6.  He looked furtive, almost guilty.  But excited.  His
eyes shone with a hidden light.  I invited him in, and thanked him for the
bottle of wine he had brought with him.  <<Do you want to open it?>>

As he opened and poured the wine, I started my bath.

We sat on the couch together, hardly talking, and had a glass of wine.
When I thought he had lost a bit of that manic edge he had brought with
him, I felt it was time.

<<I'm going to have a bath.  Come join me in a few moments.>> I left him
sitting on the couch.

I poured a generous handful of foaming bath salts into the tub and swirled
them around.  As they formed into heaps of bubbles, I pulled off my
clothes, tossed them into the laundry hamper, and slipped into the water.

A few moments later, Greg appeared at the door.

<<Thank goodness, you're here.  I can't reach my wine.>> He stepped into
the room, and offered me my glass.  <<Thank you.>>

I love my bath.  I could soak until the water grew cold.  And some days, I
did.  But I figured it wouldn't be all that much fun for my audience.  So I
would keep it to a minimum.

<<Can you smell the bath salts?>>

He shook his head.

<<Jasmine and lavender.  My favourite.  Here, smell.>> I proffered my
wrist.  He took it in his hand and held it to his nose.

<<Yes,>> he said finally.  <<I can smell the lavender.>>

I smiled at him.  <<My entire skin will smell of it when I get out.>>

I lifted one leg and washed it with my cloth.  Then the other leg,
languorously running the cloth along my foot and calf and thigh, into the
bubbles.  I washed my chest and neck, being careful not to get my face or
hair wet.

I leaned forward and turned to Greg.  <<Wash my back?>>

He started, then got down on his knees.  Taking the washcloth, he rubbed my
back.  <<Mmm.  Feels nice.>>

When he had finished, he rose again to his feet to stand awkwardly by the
sink.

<<Hand me a towel.>> He pulled a towel from the rack as I rose, my back
toward him.  I knew the water would run down my back and legs, leaving my
skin warm and moist and flushed with the heat from the tub.  <Wrap it
around me.>> He put the towel over my shoulders.  I took it from him,
making certain to touch his hand as I did.

<<Could you give my back a rub?>> Pulling the bottom edge of the towel, he
ran it down my spine until it was dry.  I knew the action would reveal my
ass to him, and I had to stop myself from wiggling my bum at him.

Tucking the towel into place, I turned toward him.  <<That was nice.>> I
sat on the toilet seat.  <<Could you get the baby oil and the Lady
Remington from the cabinet?>> He did so, and offered them to me.  I took
the razor.  <<Rub some baby oil into my legs.>>

His eyes started to glaze as he knelt again before me.  Taking a palmful of
oil, he slowly began to work it into the skin of my calves and ankles.  I
could tell he was enjoying this; his breath became more laboured, and he
licked his lips as his mouth became dry.

<<That's fine,>> I said finally. He continued to kneel at my feet as I ran
the razor carefully over my legs.

<<I've always liked the result of shaving with baby oil.  It makes my skin
so soft, and I like the way it gleams.  Don't you?>>

He nodded, unable to trust his voice.

<<Would you like to feel how soft my legs are?>>

Again nodding, he reached out with one hand.

<<Say, 'please'.>>

He looked into my face and swallowed.  <<Please.>>

I smiled assent.

He ran his fingers over my feet and ankles, cupping my heels in his palms.
Then he had his hands up my legs to my calves, testing their curve and
pressing his fingers to the backs of my knees.

Then he bent forward, and pressed his lips to my legs, first one then the
other.  He ran his mouth back down my left leg to my foot and kissed my
instep.  I lifted my leg to make it easier for him.  He took my foot in his
hands, and kissed my ankle, and took my Achilles' tendon between his teeth.

I lowered my left foot, and offered him my right.  He took it, reverently,
and kissed my instep again, this time more ardently.  I could feel his
tongue on my skin.  <<That tickles,>> I giggled.

Kissing his way to my toes, he took each one in turn into his mouth,
sucking on them, pulling on them, as a child would a mother's breast.  He
licked between my toes and ran his tongue along my sole.

<<Oh, you're very good at that.>> I lowered my feet to the floor and stood.
<<But I'm getting chilled and I want to get dressed.>>

We went into the bedroom.  I turned on the bedside table, and turned off
the bathroom light, producing a warm glow across the room. I sat on the
edge of the bed and crossed my legs.  <<My lingerie is in that drawer.
Would you like to pick something out for me to wear?>>

He opened the drawer, removing a handful of panties.  He looked through the
bundle, glancing at me for approval.  I held my face impassive, and simply
watched.  Finally, he stuffed the panties back into the drawer.

<<Um,>> he started.  <<Maybe I'll leave that to you.  But I'd like to pick
out the shoes.>>

Would you, now.  <<They're in the bottom of the closet.>>

Greg opened the door, and crouched to examine my poor (in my opinion -
well, you can never have too many shoes!) collection of footwear.  He
examined a few pairs, lifting them, turning them side to side, then putting
them down.  Finally, he stood up, a pair of strappy black sandals in his
hands.  <<These.>>

<<I'll need something to wear with them.  Care to do the honours?>>

He turned back to the closet and worked his way through the dresses, skirts
and blouses hanging there.  Again, there wasn't a huge selection, and he
made his choice in a matter of moments.  He had selected a clingy red satin
dress with a cowl neck and back slit.  I knew it would hug my every curve
once it was on.  I knew he would like it.

<<Sure?>> I said.  I allowed him a moment of alarm before smiling and
adding, <<Teasing.  It's a good choice.>>

I rose and went to my lingerie drawer, from which I withdrew the
accoutrements that I would need.

I turned toward Greg and dropped the towel.  Even in the dim light, he
would be able to see all of me, the rough clay with which I worked.

He looked uncomfortable as his eyes tried not to look at my penis.  Poor
dear.  He hasn't seen a naked man before.

Breaking the tension, I quickly pulled on a pair of black lace panties,
swiftly tucking myself away.  With my gender less obvious, I could see Greg
visibly relax.  He sat on the edge of the bed where I had been before, to
watch the rest of the show.

I put on a black plunge brassiere in a matching lace, and adjusted my
humble charms to their best advantage.  The light in Greg's eyes showed
approval.

I sat at my vanity, and turned on the light.  It's harsh glare detracted
from the ambience of the room, but it was necessary if I were to properly
apply my makeup.

As I arranged my pallet, I could see Greg moving closer.  I smiled at him
in the mirror.

I applied a light foundation and rouged my cheeks.  Mascara (2 coats),
eyeliner and a smoky grey eyeshadow followed.  I glanced at Greg again, my
eyes now deep and sensual, and gave him a penetrating look.  He smiled and
blushed.

Finally, my lips - full and red and moist, soft and supple.  His if he
wanted them.  I faced my suitor.

Greg moved toward me as if to take me in his arms.  <<No.  You'll have to
wait until I'm finished.>> Chastened, he returned to the edge of the bed.

I had to stand to put on the garter belt, clipping together the hook and
eye arrangement, then adjusting it into position.  Then I sat the put on
the stockings.  Leg arched, toes pointed, I worked the sheer material over
my ankle, past my calf, up my thigh and clipped it to the garter.  Then the
other leg, working more slowly than if I were alone, prolonging the effort,
allowing his eyes to travel every inch of my legs as they were covered and
displayed by the dark stockings.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Greg discretely adjusting his
trousers.  I rose to my feet and posed, one foot in front of the other, one
hand on my thigh, the other on my hip.  <<And now the part of the show
where...>>

<<Yes?>>

<<I ask you to leave me for a moment.>> He started to protest, but I hushed
him.  <<It's only for a moment while I finish.  I will join you shortly.>>

Ushering him from the bedroom, I closed the door.  I had only a brief time
if I wanted to keep his interest.

I unclipped my stockings and put my panties on over top of the garters.  (I
swear - the number of lingerie photos I've seen where the women have their
panties under their garters.  I mean, in the throws of passion, undressing
must be a nightmare!  Not to mention the garters must show under their
clothes...)  Then I readjusted my little man to be more securely tucked.  I
inserted my enhancers into my brassiere.  (You didn't think I was going to
forget them.)  I brushed and styled and sprayed my hair.

Then carefully, so as not to smudge my makeup, I put on the dress.  He had
made a good choice.  The dress held to my curves, enhancing my cleavage and
minimizing my waist.  It clung to my hips, and followed my figure to just
above the knee.  It was a little tight, and certainly not the kind of dress
for everyday occasions.  But I liked the effect it had, and I knew that
Greg would, too.

I slipped on the sandals and went to the door.  Oops, perfume.  A quick
spritz onto my breasts, my hair and the backs of my knees and I was ready.

Professor Daiken, you better get ready.

He had lit the candles so that the room was awash with a warm flickering
glow.  As I entered the room and posed for him, he rose from the couch.
<<You look breathtaking.>>

<<Thank you.>> Again, he made to take me in his arms.  I put my hands to
his chest, holding him off.  <<Not yet.  You'll smudge the makeup.  And I
want to look nice going out.>>

He was thrown into confusion.  Good, I thought.  I wanted him on my terms.

<<After all this effort, I want to go dancing.>> I don't know where this
came from.  I suppose I wanted to look nice for him, but I wanted him to
show me off, too.

<<I don't think ->>

<<Please.  I know a little place, just a couple of blocks from here.  A
place I'm sure you've never been, and where no one will know you.>> I put
my arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear.  <<I want to show you
what I can do on a dance floor.  Before I show you what I can do on the
bedroom floor.>> Then I put the tip of my tongue to his ear.  He took a
deep breath in response.

<<I suppose a couple of dances...>>

* * *

Sebastian's was its usual jumping self.  We had to wait a few minutes in
line before we could enter - and let me tell you, I had to use all my
charms to keep my date from bolting. When we finally got through the door,
the music hit us like a sonic wave.  We pushed our way to the bar, where
Greg got us a couple of drinks.  Then we pushed our way to a table where we
could watch the heaving mass on the dance floor.

I stood close to Greg, so that our hips touched.  He put his arm around me.

<<Lee, hi.  I thought it was you.>>

<<David.  How are you?>> Perfect.  Right on time.  <<Greg, I'd like you to
meet David.  David, Greg.>>

They shook hands and sized each other up.  They were puffing themselves out
like fighting cocks.  It was all I could do to keep from clapping my hands
together in glee.

David turned back to me.  <<You look gorgeous.>>

<<Thank you.>>

<<Would you like to dance?>>

I thought you'd never ask.  <<Well, I don`t think...>> I looked to Greg for
permission, knowing that there was no way he could say no.

<<Go ahead.  I'll watch.>> Poor dear.  He looked so uncomfortable.

David and I made our way to the dance floor; a postage stamp in parquet.
He dancing skills had not improved since we had last been together, but he
had more enthusiasm for the art, and with that came a decrease in his
awkwardness.

<<I tried calling,>> he yelled over the music.  <<Your number doesn't
work.>>

Doesn't it?  That's a wonder.  <<Give me yours, and I'll phone you.>>

He looked as if he weren't sure whether or not to believe me.  Finally, he
nodded.

He leaned closer and spoke forcefully into my ear.  <<Your date.  Does he
know about... you?>>

<<I don't think that's any of your business.>>

<<He's a bit old, don't you think?>>

I stepped away to look David sharply in the face.  <<Are you jealous?  It's
not like we're dating.  Don`t think you can tell me what to do.>>

His face dropped as if I'd slapped him.  <<No,>> he said <I'm sorry.  I
just thought we'd... connected.  You know?>>

I touched his face.  <<We did.  And we will again.>> Will we?

<<Promise?>>

<<Promise.>>

The music slowed, and David opened his arms to me.  I stepped into them,
and we began to sway to the music.  As we turned, I looked over to Greg,
standing alone at the table.  His face was unreadable.

Holding Greg's eyes with my own, I snuggled into David.  He curled his arms
around me, and held me close.  I could feel him warming to my presence, and
he bent to kiss my neck.  I smiled at Greg, and he frowned.

Finally, the song ended.  David and I held our positions on the dance floor
for a moment.  <<I have to return to Greg.>> Then I kissed him, lightly on
the lips.

He released me and led me back to the table, where Greg stood waiting for
me.

<<That was nice.  Thank you,>> I said.

<<Any time.>>

I turned to Greg.  <<Ready to go?>>

Greg stepped away from the table.  <<Yes,>> he replied over his shoulder.

David touched my sleeve.  <<I was going to give you my phone number.>>

<<Don't worry, darling.  I'll see you again.>>

<<But ->>

<<Hush.>> I covered his mouth with my fingers.  <<We'll meet again,>> I
sang softly.  I kissed his cheek, then pushed through the crowds after
Greg.

When we emerged from the nightclub, Greg walked at a steady pace, his
shoulders set and his hands balled in loose fists.

I stopped on the sidewalk, and called to him to stop.  <<I can't keep up
this pace.  Could we slow down a bit?>>

Greg returned to my side, but didn't look at me.  <<Is something the
matter?>>

His eyes snapped onto my.  <<What the hell was that all about?>>

<<Whatever do you mean?>>

<<Don't come across all innocent with me.  You know precisely what I
mean.>>

<<David?  He's just someone I met the other day.>>

<<And how many others will we run into that you `met the other day'?>>

I pulled Greg into a stairwell leading down to a bakery.  <<Let's go in
here, and I'll explain.>> I've always found public confrontations to be
distasteful.

Once away from prying eyes, I leaned against the brickwork.  <<How did it
make you feel?>>

<<What?  You with...>>

<<David.  Yes.  Me with David.>>

He worked his jaw before answering.  <<You were supposed to be with me.  We
came there together, and the first thing you do as soon as you get there is
- >>

I covered his mouth with my own, working my lips against his, probing his
lips with my tongue, until he relaxed and returned my kiss.  He took my
head in his hands, and kissed me deeply, passionately.

I turned us around until he was against the wall.  I stepped back to look
at his face.  <<I could have any man in there I wanted.  But I am with you.
How do you feel about that?>> I reached down to take him in my hand.  He
was rock hard.  Working him with my fingers, I leaned forward to kiss his
chin and pressed my thighs to his, my hand trapped between.  <<You seem to
like this,>> I whispered.

<<Bitch,>> he hissed.

<<Is that any way to talk?>> I brought my other hand between us, squeezing
and stroking him.

Greg opened his mouth, gasping to breathe.  <<You... better ssss-stop...>>

<<Whyever for?>> I began to unzip his trousers.

<<Ss-someone might...>>

I kissed his ear and whispered.  <<No one will come down here.  No one will
see us.>> I withdrew him from his boxer shorts and stepped a bit back.  I
didn't want him to stain my dress.  <<We're alone.  And can do anything.
Even this.>>

Before he could protest further, I crouched and put his head in my mouth.
He arched his back and put his hands to the sides of my head.

Slowly, I worked my way down his cock, taking more and more of it into my
mouth, until he was as far in as I was comfortable taking.  Then I pulled
away, again very slowly, letting my tongue play along the delicate skin
under his erection.

Taking his balls in my hands, I licked his head, tasting the pungent,
delicate taste of his secretions.  Then I took him back into my mouth,
again plunging down as far as I dared.

He gasped, and thrust into my face.  I withdrew again, this time scraping
my teeth along the top of him.

<<oh... oh...>>

I strained to look up at him, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, his
back arched against the wall.  <<Do you want me to continue?>>

Conflicting emotions raced over his face: to stay and face discovery or to
go and forego the excitement of possibly being caught in public.

<<y-Your place>>

<<Coward.>> I took him again into my mouth, my lips a tight 'o'.  He whined
deep in the back of his throat, his hips bucking in response to my
ministrations.  I held him as deeply as possible, and started to milk him,
moving in and out, in and out, squeezing with my lips, sucking with my
tongue, massing his balls with my hands.

He was fucking my face in earnest now, and held my head firmly between his
hands as he directed his cock in my mouth.  I could feel his mounting need,
as the point of no return grew ever closer.  His breath came in hard gasps,
and he swallowed as his mouth grew dry with desire.  He was almost there,
almost there.

I stopped and pulled away.  <<Perhaps you're right.  My place it is.>> I
stood and kissed him lightly, my hands protecting my dress from his cock.

His eyes snapped open shock.  <<What?>>

<<We should continue this at my place.>>

His eyes glared balefully at me.  <<You are such a...>>

<<Yes?>>

I smiled at him as he scowled and put himself away.  <<I can't believe
you'd take me so far, then...>> He looked at me again and smiled.  <<You'll
get yours, I can promise you.>>

<<Promises, promises.  Ready to go?>>

He glanced down.  <<In a moment.  I need to calm down.>>

* * *

I continued to tease Greg as we walked back to my apartment.  As we walked
arm in arm, I would surreptitiously stroke him with the back of my hand, or
kiss his ear.  When we had to stop for a red light, we kissed on the street
corner, oblivious of the other foot traffic.

By the time we had arrived, Greg was in a state of heightened awareness.
Good.

I knew that my makeup was a bit of a mess, particularly my lipstick.  But
in his condition, Greg hardly seemed to notice.  As soon as we had closed
the door behind us, he pinned me to the wall, kissing me deeply, his hips
grinding into mine.

I broke the kiss to take a breath, and he kissed the length of my neck, his
hands cupping my bum, forcing me into him.  I curled one leg around his,
rubbing his trousers with my stocking.  Lifting his head in my hands, I
brought his mouth back to mine.  He took my breasts in his hands, and
squeezed and stroked them.  I kissed his ear, taking his lobe between my
teeth, and bit down gently.  <<Easy, tiger.  We have all night.>>

<<I want you now,>> he growled.

<<Well, I want to fix my makeup, and I want you to wash your hands.>>

He looked me in the eye, his face held emotionless.  <<Yes, mother.>>

<<Oh, I can assure you, I am not your mother.>>

Dutifully, he went to the bathroom.  Going to my vanity, I repaired the
damage as best I could.  Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as I had thought,
taking only a lick of lipstick and a bit of powder.

Before he could return, I turned on the video camera.  (I bet you thought
I'd forgotten.)  Then, I started to light the candles we had extinguished
before we had left for Sebastian's.

When Greg returned, I gave him a box of matches to finish the job.  <<Start
over there,>> I said, pointing to the candles closest to the door.

He worked his way diligently around the room, finishing with the candles on
the kitchen table.

<<Greg.>>When he turned, I was standing in the middle of the room, facing
him.

I had removed my dress.

I stood before him, dressed in stockings and high-heels.  As he watched, I
adjusted one garter, looking at him through lowered lashes.  I ran my hand
across my belly, over my breasts and up to my neck, and smiled.  <<Well?>>

I knew the candlelight would shimmer on my stockings and catch the
highlights of my hair, and the satin straps of my brassiere.

<<You're beautiful.>>

<<Am I?>>

He stepped closer.  <<Oh, yes.>>

I pulled loose his necktie and began to unbutton his shirt.  <<What is it
that makes me so beautiful?>>

<<Don't tell me you have self-doubts.>>

I pulled his shirt from his trousers.  He unbuttoned the cuffs and threw it
on the couch.  <<I want to know why you find me so irresistible.>>

<<I don't think I said you were irresistible.>>

I kissed his chest and fumbled with his belt.  <<But I am.>> I undid his
trousers, and he obliged by kicking off his shoes.  <<Aren't I?>>

Greg looked into my eyes without a hint of humour.  <<Yes,>> he said
finally.  <<Completely and utterly enchanting.>>

Together we removed the last of his clothing, until he was naked before me.
I ran my hands up his flanks and pressed them to his chest.

<<Kiss me,>> I said.  He pressed his lips to mine, warm and firm.  Our
tongues danced, exploring each other, our mouths hot and yielding.  I
raised my head and he kissed my neck and shoulders, and nuzzled my breasts.

<<Kiss me.  Down there.>>

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mouth pressed against the
supported flesh of my left breast.  Then he descended my body, leaving a
trail of kisses and licks on my belly and waist.

Now on his knees, he pressed his face to my thighs, left then right, then
left again.  Then slowly, he pulled down my panties from my hips, to my
thighs, until they fell freely to my feet.

My little man unfolded, a flower in the morning dew, and unfurled to its
full length.  Greg looked at it a moment, unsure whether to continue.

<<Please,>> I entreated.

He opened his mouth, and took in my head.  I gasped with pleasure.
<<That's it.>>

I could feel him working his tongue against the tip, back and forth, back
and forth.  I wanted to thrust into him, but held back, waiting for him to
be more comfortable.

I cooed and murmured, and encouraged him that he was very good, and how
much I was enjoying it.  And I was.  I felt electricity running from my
cock through my belly to my chest.  I swelled in the sensual pleasure.

But it was the sheer control that truly excited me; that I could control a
man so totally as to have him take me in his mouth, to suck me off, to
pleasure me in this way. If I ever had any doubts as to my charms, they had
completely vanished.

He inched forward on my shaft, taking more of me in.  His tongue played
along the bottom of my erection, and he ran his hands from my naked ass
down my garters to my stockings, stroking my legs, enjoying the texture,
the sensation of thin material that covered my thighs and calves.

Another inch.  He was breathing through his nose, puffing with the
exertion.  I put my hands to the back of his head, not pushing, merely
encouraging him.  <<oh.  oh, darling.  oh, that's nice.  You're so... so
good.>>

I arched my back and opened my mouth in a silent scream of delight.  He
cupped my ass and pulled himself forward another inch.

My breath was hard in my chest, my breasts rising and falling.  This was
glorious.

And would have to end before it went too far.

But, oh, the pleasure, the magnificent sensation of his lips and tongue and
teeth along my shaft, sucking and licking, the warm moisture of his mouth
as he took me in.

I bit my lower lip and looked down on him at work, his eyes closed with the
concentration of pleasuring me.

I took his head in my hands, and lifted him up to his feet.  <<Darling.
That was wonderful.>> I kissed him in passion and gratitude.  I could taste
myself on his lips as my tongue entered his mouth.  This only made my
passion grow, and I kissed him harder.

He pulled me to him, and I could tell the pleasure had not been mine alone.
He was rock hard.  His shaft pressed next to mine as we held each other,
our hands touching, caressing each other's neck and back.

Greg made to take me to the bedroom, pulling at my wrist.  <<No.  There's a
blanket on the back of the couch.>>

We pushed away the coffee table, and spread the blanket on the floor.  The
cushions from the couch pillowed my head and I lay down.

He stood a moment, drinking in the sight of me.  His eyes ran from my
stockinged feet (I had kicked off my shoes for comfort), up my legs, to
where my penis stood.  I rubbed my thighs together for him, so that he
could watch the shimmer of the candlelight on the gossamer material.  He
took in my garterbelt, my belly and my breasts, firm and supported in my
brassiere.  Finally my neck and face, where the candlelight danced in my
eyes, and glistened on my lips, moist and parted.

I raised my hand and drew him down to lay beside me.  He came to me and we
made love.

* * *

It was 2 am before he left, citing an early class on Monday. I didn't go to
bed then.  I was too wide awake for sleep.

Instead, I brought down the camera, and played back the tape to see how it
looked.  Oh, certainly, it was dark, and difficult to make out precisely
what was happening.  But there was a clear shot of Greg felating me, and
later in the tape, one of the two of us, rutting like canines, both our
faces to the camera.

As I watched the tape, now wrapped in my bathrobe, I could feel Greg's
hands on me, as they had been scant minutes before.  Here and here, on my
face and back and legs, I could still fell his touch, his caress.  His lips
on my cheek.  His legs intertwined with mine. Our chests pressed together
as we made love.

My cock was hard now, and as I watched and remembered, I masturbated,
drawing my hand slowly up and down my shaft.  As we approached climax on
the tape, so did I approach it on the couch.  As we came, so did I, a
tissue held to catch the ejaculatant.

I fell to bed shortly thereafter.

* * *

Before I returned the camera (and got back my deposit) I used it to make a
copy of the tape.  I then resolved to spend the rest of the week studying
for my exams.

And for the most part, I kept my promise to myself.

By Thursday, I was bored of the solitude, tired of the institution of
higher education.  I had been to those revision classes that had been
offered by the various instructors and/or departments.  I had worked
through as many of the past papers as I could beg, borrow or steal.  (Well,
maybe not steal...)  But I was sick of books and papers and the stain of
ink between my fingers.

I had worked hard.  I had earned a little reprieve.  A little one.

Besides, I had promised to return the bottle of wine.  And I wouldn't want
Adrian to think the worst of me.

A brief trip out and I returned with a couple of bottles of wine, one for
me, and one to return to my neighbour.

I prepared myself, then dressed in my lycra jeans and crop top - the same
thing I had worn for Danny scant days ago.  I stepped into my flip-flops,
grabbed the bottle of wine (and my keys) and headed for Adrian's door.

<<You must be the next-door sister.>>

<<Leeanne>> He shook my proffered hand.

<<Lee and Leeanne?>>

<<We're twins.>>

He grinned his acceptance of my explanation, and invited me in.

<<I can't really stay.  I only came to return the bottle of wine you loaned
us.  And to thank you.>>

<<No problem.  You sure you can't stay?  I've just made some coffee.>>

I could smell the coffee, warm and dark on the stove; it did smell
good. <<"Maybe one cup.>>

We sat together on a couch in front of the television set, and had our
coffee.  He told me about himself, and I make up my own background, hoping
fervently that I would not be required to confirm any of the untruths.

In its own way, it was exhilarating; to lie too easily and be accepted so
readily.

When I had finished my coffee, I begged off, saying I had an appointment to
get to.

<<A job interview?>>

Huh?  Oh, yes.  <<Yes.  So I have to get ready.>>

<<Well, best of luck.>>

Thanking him, I opened the door.

<<Listen,>> he said in that way that boys always say when they're about to
ask a girl out.  <<Would you like to go out some time.>>

Did I really need another romantic complication in my life right now?  Oh,
hell, why not!  <<I'd love to.  After exams, though.>>

<<Exams?>>

Oopsy.  <<Lee is in the middle of exams, and I don't want to disturb him by
coming and going.>>

Adrian nodded.  <<But will you still be living with him when he's done?>>

I laughed.  <<Until I get a job, I'm not going anywhere.>>

<<I wished you luck on this interview, didn't I?>>

<<Too late to take it back.  Besides, would you really wish me bad luck?>>

He grinned. <<I suppose not.>> He looked at me as if he were deciding
whether or not to try to kiss me.  But the moment passed.

<<I should go.  See you soon.>>

End Part One