He was in his mid forties at the time and I was about 19. I really liked him and we got a rapport going on. I saw him as a substitute father figure...who understood my angst about college that my father couldn’t relate. As we got to know each other, the counselor started to come on to me. He complimented me on my breasts and he said that there were so beautiful. He locked his door so no one would barge in. He started to go behind my chair and started to massage my shoulders then proceeded. The materialwas very similar to a woman's slip, very smooth and sexy feeling.I felt a portion of the dress with my fingers, noting how soft and silky itwas. I knew that the material wasn't made to stretch at all. If the dress wasnot your size to begin with, it would never fit you.I knew the dress didn't belong to Barbara, it wasn't her size. I knewsomething of sizes and I was sure it wouldn't fit her. In fact, it would fitme better than her. I laughed to myself. You see Barbara is. ." I said sobbing: "Why am I not a girl?"She didn't say anything, but as she got in the car and hugged me, I felt like I had the answer...My graduation day was embarrassing: I refused every photo group, I refused to sign things, I refused to talk to anyone.And I avoided any form of interaction with Dylan. Fuck off, high school. I was just too much for them.Dylan tried to approach me but I always managed to leave.The very same day I spoke to my parents and it was hard to explain the fact I. The other girls stood there for a moment, then slowly slid their panties down. At times, the final step is the biggest! Mary looked like she wanted to ask a question, so Mr. Bradley asked her to come to his desk. She was still shy, but she got up and went to him. He got her to write her problem on the board and with his help worked it out. He noticed that she forgot about her nudity while she was focused on her problem, which gave Mr. Bradley an idea for his next class. But before he sent them.