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"She grabbed my nips through my shirt and pulled a little. I looked up.. She tugged a little harder. "let's go." So I got up.I was led to the door before she let go of my nips; and with what seemed like an eternity she closed the place up. "You lead, I'll follow" she said after she locked the door. And I walked to my place. Slowly at first, then picking up a little speed.The street was just beginning to feel the affects of lunch hour as groups of lollygaggers kept walkers with a purpose dodging left and right, and we were no exception. I paused at the corner green grocers and eyed the neatly stacked veg. She stood behind me to my side and fixed her chin on my shoulder. "Shall we have a snack?" I asked noncommittally, and while I picked a few banana's, she made a beeline to a nicely stacked pile of cucumbers. Selecting two large ones she presented them to me with dancing eyes. I wonder if green grocers ever notice that look in a woman's eyes when eying cukes? It sure wasn't lost on. So … in my school you had to get at least a C+ average in all your classes, or you couldn’t play sports. During my senior year I failed the mid-term math exam, and I was about to be kicked off the cheerleading squad. I felt like my life was ruined. I begged the math teacher, Mr. Jorgenson, to let me re-take the exam. He agreed, but he said I first had to take extra lessons after school, or else I’d probably just fail it again. Now Sigmund the shrink might take issue with what follows, but what did I know at eighteen, anyway? Well, I knew how to tease guys and I impishly decided to tease Mr. Jorgenson during the after school study sessions. Sooo, first day, first session, I wore a snug turtleneck that showed off my little girl apples, the mandatory short skirt, white tights and flats. Typical attire for the average teenage slut, right?’ I purposely fidgeted in my seat, crossing and re-crossing my legs and letting my skirt inch up my thighs. Mr. Jorgenson sat at his desk and quizzed.
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