Thanksgiving Break

Thanksgiving emptied the sorority house. Miss Brando sat alone at her desk grading papers when Isabelle knocked—skin-tight jeans riding low on her hips, campus hoodie hanging open over a thin tank top that outlined small, high breasts. “Everyone’s gone and I feel like I’m losing my mind,” the younger girl blurted, biting her bottom lip. Miss Brando, elegant in a slate blouse and black pencil skirt, tried to steer the talk back to books, but the weight of the empty hallway pressed on both of them. One confession led to another. When Isabelle admitted she’d fantasized about her professor’s mouth for weeks, Miss Brando’s fingers hovered above her open collar, knuckles brushing the warm skin she usually kept hidden. Clothes loosened; no kiss came first—just fingertips drifting, seeking bare belly, the shiver of small nipples hardening under tongue, the wet heat between thighs spreading across Miss Brando’s polished wood desk. Long strokes, hushed gasps, Isabelle riding Miss Brando’s thigh while fingers curled inside her slick cunt and orgasms pulsed like warm silk. At last they collapsed together, breathless in the stillness of the abandoned house.