She simply replied ‘With all the cat calls and whistles that she had received that day, that as a dean, she was expected to maintain a certain level of respectability and ‘those type of outfits’ prohibited her achieving that.’ That day is etched forever in my mind. Her makeup that day accented her facial features. She pored it on thick that morning. She wore a silky burgundy blouse with the first two buttons undone. Her cleavage and her burgundy lace bra was barely visible. Her skirt was black and knee length. She completed the outfit with sheer black stockings and black ankle boots. It was then and there I decided I had to have her, but I was too afraid of the bitch to ever act on my feelings. Now, less then three weeks from graduating, I am sitting in her office. She enters. ‘Thank you for keeping your appointment and being on time, Mr. Roberts.’ ‘Professor, I am sorry for daydreaming in class. . .’ ‘Quiet, Mr. Roberts. I asked you here for two reasons. You need to stop whatever. Dinner was good, rather uneventful, but by the end of dinner she had already had some champagne at home, two gin and tonics, and lots of wine. By the time we got to dessert, she was sipping her Baileys, and was getting pretty drunk. I casually slowly turned the conversation towards sex and finally got to the point where we talked about what turned her on. She didn’t want to talk about this subject, at which I called her a coward. She willingly walked into the trap, and challenged me about being a coward. At that point I dared her to take some pictures of her on the parking lot, on the way home. She hesitated a little, but with all the alcohol, and the fact that she thought could get out of this dare pretty easily, she agreed.I quickly paid the bill, and we went for the car. When we got to the car, I said that I was going to take some pictures, put the bag on the hood, and brought up the camera. The pictures were pretty harmless, but I talked her into getting rid of her bra. She undid.
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