Thread: Morphosis Of A Young Co-Ed  (Devilla roche x taffy_felice)

Klea tried to pay attention during class, and to the best of her knowledge she did, following along, scribbling notes here and there in the margins of her book, highlighting sections, she went through the motions of any normal recitation session. What the pale girl didnt realize, was while she should have been focusing on Charlottes words, her eyes and subconscious mind were busy memorizing the way the seam in the blondes stockings ran up the back of her leg over her shapely calf, and into that pencil skirt. It memorized how that pencil skirt hugged the curves of Charlottes hips and sculpted rear, it memorized how the fitted blouse strained against Charlottes ample cleavage, committing them all to deep memory as Klea consciously tried to learn the material. The echoes of charlottes heels boomed like thunderclaps as the grad student approached Klea after class. She would have stayed and listened to the instructor anyway, but Klea felt pinned to her chair by some sort of animal magnetism the charlotte seemed to exude. She watched as Charlotte took her pen, seeing those perfectly manicured nails wrap around it, and then scroll a number onto the paper in the same perfect, loopy writing style she had written her name with before class. Kleas above average brain had it committed to memory as if Charlotte were tattooing the number directly on her frontal lobe. The skinny coeds heard thumped in her chest as she stared at the paper. Sorry, yes, I understand Miss Charlotte, Klea said with a little stammer, and a lot of accidental accent, stairing up at Charlotte with the big, emerald green eyes that she hid behind those thick frames, Faleminderit er.. th..thank you Miss Charlotte. Klea stayed staring wide eyed at Charlotte for just a bit too long, before she realized that she should be going. In a flustered rush, the normally organized girl tossed all of her things into her normally well-organized bag, then practically ran out of the room. You said thank you in Albanian! What were you thinking Klea? She thought to herself as she ran out of the building to her dorm room. She had other classes, but it somehow didnt matter, she sprinted through the halls to her room, and through herself in a pile on the bed. Confused tears flooded Kleas eyes, and she found herself curled up and sobbing in her dark room. What the hell is wrong with me? Klea wondered as, tear after tear dripped off her cheek, without any reason apparent to Klea. Completely shell shocked, Klea just laid there, and cried herself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. When Klea woke, the scene was very different. She was sweating, her tank top clung to her skin, her hair was a tangled mess, knotted from still being in a bun, and most concerningly, her left hand was inside of her leggings, her fingers and panties, both soaking wet. What the hell Klea? She asked herself, this time out loud, her eyes drifing over to her alarm clock whose red digital letters told her it was 1134 PM. How did I just sleep for eight hours? Addled, Klea got up and turned the lights on, stripping from her soiled clothes, and putting on a robe. Klea went and took a shower trying to clear her head, and undo the knot that was her curly black hair. She returned to her room a few minutes later, feeling at least clean and refreshed, if not quite clear headed. She changed into a white tank top and a pair of boxer shorts. Then she went to her bed to find that she had broken on of the hinges of her glasses sleeping with them on, technically she was only supposed to wear them reading anyway, an attempt at a repair could wait. She paced around her room for a few minutes, before going to her book bag, thinking she should just study for a bit. But when she dumped the contents out on her desk, that little piece of paper with the loopy handwriting seemed to just float to the top of the pile. Hi, its Klea, Are you up Miss Charlotte? The text message seemed to send itself, it had been so easy to type and send, but now that it had been done Klea was filled with nervous regret. Who sends a text at 1224AM, Klea?! She thought to herself as she just stared helplessly at her phone screen.