I was perpetually horny. "Did you have a nice time with Nick?" she asked. I was so used to calling him Coach Lennox that I was confused briefly who...she was talking about. There was a tone in her voice that hinted that she knew what had transpired between us the night before. I was somewhat timid by anyone else knowing this. It was still an imitimate encounter and was not entirely ready for it be shared. "He was very excitted when he came home," she said, her voice deepening. "He fucked me. " She said passing me a large paper shopping bag. "Put it on and we will go to the hairdresser."In the bag I found a skimpy white sheath dress and some jewelry. The dress fitted me like a glove with the hem about half way between my knees and crotch it did at least cover my stocking tops except that there was a split that came up the left side to a stitch at the top of my leg and then three inch slits all the way to my waist. From that side it my stocking top was clearly visible and my lack of. We told each other that we had feelings for one another and at that point is when we both brought up the subject of sex. We both kind of talked about what we liked, turn-ons and so fourth. After a day or so of talking about that, I told her to pretend I was there with her while she was chatting on the net. As she was chatting, she could feel me kissing the back of the neck while my hands slowly ran across her nice ample sized breasts. As my tongue ran across her neck, she leaned her head back. The downpour peppered the grass of the quad, a quiet roar of nature's power and I leaned back against him, wet and trapped in a bus stop. A few cars went by, splashing, wipers on high. We were alone, wet and horny. I dropped my head back onto his shoulder, feeling the warmth from his body, my skin absorbing his heat, chasing the chill from me. His arms held me tightly and he snuggled his lips into my neck. I looked at the abandoned quad, remembering the students, imagining them inside their.