Vivian mentally cycled through her new repertoire, a sly grin playing on her lips. Her attention snapped back to the front of the room, zeroing in on the teacher, Ms. Reed.
Damn, hard instantly.
The cute little skirt ballooned slightly over her lap. George— no, Vivian— hadn't bothered retracting her new accessory, and the mere sight of Ms. Reed's willowy figure and striking face sent a jolt straight south.
Ms. Evelyn Reed. Twenty-two, fresh out of university. Vivian's English teacher and class advisor. Maybe the name 'Evelyn' sounded prim, but the woman? Anything but. Memory—Vivian's newly acquired intel—confirmed Ms. Reed had a serious thing for pencil skirts, stockings, and stilettos. A walking office fantasy.
Vivian's eyes devoured her. Today it was a crisp white suit. The skirt, snug as a second skin, ended a good hand-span above her knees, hugging curves that screamed fertility. High, rounded ass; impossibly small waist. Below that, killer legs encased in sheer black stockings disappeared into deadly four-inch heels. Yum. And the top half? Just as good. Fitted white blazer over a matching blouse, top two buttons strategically undone. Every time she bent slightly, Vivian caught a tantalizing glimpse of white lace barely containing creamy swells of breast, a deep cleavage drawing her gaze like a damn black hole.
Her face was flawless – smooth skin, no makeup needed except for a slash of ruby lipstick on perfectly shaped lips and subtle eyeliner accentuating large, intelligent dark eyes under neat brows. Dark hair pulled back in a severe but somehow sexy bun.
Just as Vivian was practically drooling, Ms. Reed's gaze met hers across the room. A knowing, slightly annoyed look.
"Ahem..."
Brrriiing! Saved by the bell.
Ms. Reed paused, her mouth already open to reprimand. "Class dismissed. Vivian Quinn, please come to my office."
It was Friday. Freedom for the weekend. Kids scrambled, stuffing bags, noisy shouts echoing as they bolted.
"Vivi? What is that under your skirt?"
Her deskmate and childhood friend, Chloe, peered down curiously. "Huh?" Vivian glanced down, saw Chloe's hand reaching out… Shit! With a quick mental command, she retracted, smooth skin replacing solid flesh just nanoseconds before Chloe's fingers brushed her crotch.
"What? What are you talking about?" Vivian feigned confusion.
"Weird... could've sworn... It's gone." Chloe frowned.
"You seeing things, Chlo…" Vivian's voice hitched. Because Chloe's innocent touch had landed exactly on the most sensitive nub of her female anatomy. A jolt, sharp and unfamiliar, shot through her. Holy crap. Okay, that was new... and weirdly hot?
"Okay, Chloe, quit pawing me, there's nothing there!" Vivian flushed, a bizarre mix of arousal and embarrassment warring within her. Definitely couldn't let that continue; she'd end up humiliating herself. Secret upgrades needed time for... private testing. "Gotta grow up sometime," she thought wryly.
"Fine, weirdo." Chloe shrugged. "Teacher wants you. Want me to wait?"
"Nah, go on ahead."
"Kay. Come over tomorrow?"
"Sure." They'd known each other forever, lived next door. Their neighborhood was upscale and close enough to the fancy private school they attended that they walked themselves. Ten felt practically grown-up anyway, both girls already hitting that awkward four-foot-something height.
Vivian grabbed her bag and headed to the staff wing. This place was posh enough that class advisors got private offices. Nice.
Knock, knock.
"Come in."
"Ms. Reed?" Vivian pushed the door open. The teacher was perched on a small loveseat, not behind her desk. Her purse sat on the polished wood surface, suggesting she was packed and ready to leave.
"Vivian. Come here." Ms. Reed gestured to the space in front of her.
Vivian approached, standing close. Too close. Looking down slightly put her eye-level with that very distracting cleavage again. Damn.
"Vivi? Vivian!" Ms. Reed's voice sharpened slightly. "Hello? You seemed completely out of it during class too. What's going on? Talk to me." Her tone softened, patient but firm.
"Err..." How to spin this? 'Sorry teacher, I was too busy mentally undressing you and admiring my new dick'? Probably not the best approach.
Ms. Reed followed Vivian's unwavering gaze downward, and a faint pink blush touched her cheeks. Cute.
"Vivi, come sit beside me." She patted the cushion. "Tell me what's bothering you today."
An idea sparked. A delightfully devious idea. She was just a little girl, right? Innocent, confused... manipulatable.
"Teacher..." Vivian began, deliberately pitching her voice higher, infusing it with childish uncertainty. "I... Today I just felt... I felt like... Teacher is..."
Ms. Reed tilted her head, brow furrowed. Clearly clueless. A ten-year-old girl? Developing a crush? Preposterous. Even an early bloomer… but a girl? Lesbianism wasn't exactly on the fifth-grade curriculum. Unless...?
"It's okay, Vivian. You can tell me anything," Ms. Reed encouraged gently, taking Vivian's small hand in hers. Her skin was soft.
"Showtime," Vivian thought gleefully. She looked up, blinking big, innocent eyes. "I just... I think Teacher looked really, really pretty today. And... I couldn't stop looking... Teacher just... drew me in."
"Ah?" A small, surprised sound escaped Ms. Reed. "Drew you in? How?"
"Just... looking at you makes my heart beat really fast." Vivian leaned closer, conspiratorially. "And... and..."
"And what, sweetie?"
Vivian dropped her gaze demurely, pretending to be embarrassed. "And... down there," she gestured vaguely towards her crotch, "it feels all... tingly and full. Uncomfortable." Technically true, just not in the way you think.
She risked a peek upwards. Yep, Ms. Reed looked utterly bewildered now. Vivian mentally patted herself on the back.
"But... but you're a girl, Vivian," Ms. Reed finally managed, stating the obvious.
"So? What's being a girl got to do with it?" Vivian asked, wide-eyed innocence dialed up to eleven.
"Err... well..." Ms. Reed faltered. "Never mind." She sighed. "Vivi, it just means you're growing up. It's normal to notice people you admire. But..." God, how to explain this? She'd never had this conversation before. High schoolers, maybe. But an elementary student crushing on her? And a female one? This was uncharted territory. She couldn't just dismiss it, though. Vivian was usually such a sweet, bright, obedient kid. A favorite, if she were honest. This was... unexpected.
"Look, Vivi," Ms. Reed said softly, squeezing her hand. "It's nothing to worry about, okay? Your main job right now is to focus on school. Don't worry about these... feelings. They'll make more sense when you're older."
"Okay. I'll study hard," Vivian promised dutifully.
"Good girl." Ms. Reed resolved to call Vivian's mother later. This was definitely above her pay grade.
Then Vivian struck. "Teacher? Can I touch you?"
"What?"
Before Ms. Reed could react, Vivian's left hand clamped onto her nylon-clad thigh, fingers digging slightly into the firm muscle beneath. Simultaneously, her right hand snaked up, pressing flat against Ms. Reed's chest, right over the swell of her breast beneath the thin blouse and blazer. She could feel the startled jump of the woman's heart.
"Vivian!" Ms. Reed shot up from the sofa, pulling away, eyes wide. "Don't—" She stopped herself, taking a deep breath, visibly trying to regain composure. "Vivi," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "you can't just touch people like that without asking permission first. You understand?"
"Oh. Okay." Vivian tilted her head. "But I did ask you."
"I... But I didn't answer! I didn't say yes!" Ms. Reed sputtered, flustered.
"Okay..." Vivian persisted, relentless innocence her shield. "Then, Teacher... now can I touch you?"
Seeing Vivian's absolute fixation, Ms. Reed sighed, sinking back onto the couch, defeated for the moment. This kid was tenacious. "First," she said, trying to regain control, "tell me why you want to touch me so badly?"
Vivian beamed. "Because it feels good! No reason." Then, switching tactics, she pouted playfully. "Pleeeease, Teacher? Let me touch you? Just a little? If you're worried," she added, her voice dropping to a stage whisper, "you can touch me back!"
And with that, quick as a flash, Vivian hoisted her short skirt right up to her waist, revealing a pair of tiny, strawberry-print cotton panties stretched taut across her flat stomach and the faint curve of her pubic mound.