Transforming Genevieve Chapter Four Part One - Sex Stories

Transforming Genevieve Chapter Four Part One

... spread flat light through the windows. I collected my papers and walked through the door to my office, leaving it cracked a couple of inches.

I slipped my jacket off and sat at my desk to begin marking the assignments I'd collected that day. Glancing at my day planner, I noticed the entry for 3:15 PM: "Mr. Kosmerl, extra help with assignment." I'd forgotten that he was coming by for some help. I considered putting my suit coat back on but decided, instead to unbutton another button of my black silk blouse. I pulled the material open further, exposing the tops of my breasts. I'd have some fun with this young stud, perhaps. It was 3:05 PM, and I had ten minutes to get some papers reviewed. As I read through the third one, I heard a light knock on my office door.

"Come in," I said without looking up from my desk.

The door creaked as it opened.

"Close the door, please," I asked without looking up.

The latch clicked shut.

"Have a seat," I said, still not acknowledging who had entered my private office.

Once I heard him sit down, I slowly placed my marking pen to the side and raised my head.

"Now, Mr. Kosmerl, what can I do for you?" I asked.

Steve's eyes were as big as saucers. His face flushed, and his mouth hung partly open.

He stuttered, “I ah, ah had an appointment to ah, ah get some help with your ah, ah assignment, Ms. Walker?"

I leaned back in my chair and pushed it away from my desk. I arched my back slightly, causing the material of my ...

... blouse to stretch across my breasts.

"Yes, Mr. Kosmerl, you wanted some assistance with the writing assignment," I said. "What are you having difficulty with?"

He continued to fumble for the right words, "Well, do you remember during class you said that truly great authors let the words flow from their body and soul onto the paper?"

"Yes, I recall that,” I offered.

I seem to lose the words that best describe what I'm trying to write somewhere between my soul and the paper, Ms. Walker,” he said, apparently becoming more comfortable being in my private office.

"So you're having trouble with descriptive sentences?" I asked.

"Yes, that's it, Ms. Walker,” he answered.

"I think a little practice describing what you see may help Steve," I suggested.

I stood up and stepped around my desk. Moving between him and my desk, I sat down and slowly crossed my legs. He instantly blushed as my long silk-covered legs came under his close inspection.

"Now, Mr. Kosmerl, I want you to describe me," I said.

"I ah ah don't understand,” he said, reverting to stuttering.

"Just describe what you see in front of you, Mr. Kosmerl. Forget that I'm your professor. Just describe the woman seated before you.”

He swallowed hard again and offered, "I see a beautiful woman."

"Oh, come on now, Mr. Kosmerl, you can use more descriptive words than beautiful. Let the words flow from your soul." I said.

He tried again. “I see a sexy woman,” his words sounded more like a ...