A shy girl - Part One - Sex Stories

A shy girl - Part One

... she had already left the theatre. After hesitating for a few seconds, I unfolded the paper and read it. ‘Next time, wear a skirt.’ I was shocked. Was it meant for me? It had to be, but maybe she meant to give it to one of her friends. I kept looking at the note throughout the day, and in the end I decided I would wear a skirt tomorrow anyway, even if it hadn’t been meant for me. The next day was almost a repeat of the first. She wasn’t in the lecture theatre when I sat down, and I felt a bit self-conscious to be wearing a knee length skirt rather than my usual baggy jeans. The door at the back of the theatre opened and I was hoping it would be her. It was, and once again she slipped into the seat beside me. “... there is a strong theme of deception...” Again, the lecturer’s voice was droning in my ear as I watched the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. I longed to touch it, but she just completely ignored me as usual. I decided I must have been mistaken about the note, but after the lecture there was another piece of paper left behind, exactly the same size as the first one. I unfolded the note and read just the one word: ‘shorter’. My heart skipped a beat in shock. Shorter! I didn’t even own any short skirts. I went home via the shopping centre and felt completely out of my depth trying to decide what was appropriate to wear around the university and would meet her approval. I couldn’t believe that I was even doing this. In the end, I settled for a red tartan skirt that ...

... was a little shorter than mid-thigh and clung tightly to my hips and backside. If I had felt self-conscious the day before, this time it was excruciating. I hadn’t bothered sunbathing since I’d left school and I felt like everybody was staring at my milk-white legs. I got to the lecture theatre early to take my usual seat and waited breathlessly for her. I wasn’t disappointed as she came in and sat next to me again. It was starting to become a game. This time I looked for the note as soon as she stood up and my fingers were shaking as I read it. ‘No knickers,’ it said. How deep was I letting myself get? But I had gone this far and as long as I was being careful then what harm could come? I wore the skirt again next day, without my knickers. On top of my self-consciousness, I could feel myself getting aroused from being bare down there and I felt so naughty to be walking around naked under my skirt. I kept wondering if she was about to make a move on me and I hoped I would have the nerve to respond in the way she wanted, even though I had no idea what that was meant to be. I was particularly nervous in the next lecture. Was she going to ask me out? Or touch me? Or maybe I was meant to be the one to make the next move. I agonised with uncertainty as the minutes ticked and we sat next to each other in the lecture. A couple of times I nearly got up the nerve to reach over and touch her hand. But nothing happened. She got up and left as usual, and of course there was another note. ...