Normally when she got to school she would flounce up the steps, allowing her skirt to reveal her panties as it bounced up and down with her movement, ...ut not today. Today she walked carefully not wanting to reveal what was under her skirt, or in this case what wasn’t there. She took her normal front row seat in her first class (all the other seats were occupied). Mr. Johnson was lecturing them on the Civil War. He kept glancing over at her. Normally she would inch her skirt up revealing her. ”To my surprise I heard myself answer.“It's your fault. It's my fault. It's our fault. I don't know.” What the hell was I saying?!“I thought I could stay cool. I can't. I thought I could keep it mutual. I can't. But now? Today? Here? Like this? Somehow in these last few hours it's all so...real.”“Don't you feel it?” I heard myself dare ask. She didn't answer she just looked at me with a mixture of emotions, sitting up more now with her hands at her sides.“It was my intention to really get you. It was like looking at a cartoon cunt, a blown-up doll, a slippery fantasy of fanny, and all of this was mine! I was overwhelmed, and compelled to share my good fortune - I had to go outside and give my mutant muff some air! The late spring evening was warm, so I slipped on a flimsy, short dress, and nothing else, before I left my apartment. Once on the street, the breeze made the thin material cling to my body and drew attention to my bulge, for all the world to see. I had the sensation of. I thrusted my butt up in the air and dove my face back into her body. Her hands were still on me, around my chest and stomach, enjoying each muscle as they contracted and expanded. ‘You’re not the tiny little boy I once knew.’ She said as she admired my features. ‘Sssh! No talking!’ I said jokingly. She smiles as she pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips. I nodded accordingly. I went back to her chest, back to her nipples and stared at them intently. I could imagine them getting hard off.