Ivy's POV
I'm Ivy, and today marks the beginning of my freshman year at college. I'm feeling a bit anxious because I really want to make a great impression on everyone. That's why I chose to wear a short skirt and a crop top that highlights my curves. I prefer younger teachers, and the one I have this semester definitely fits that bill—she's stunning!
I know my strategy to become her favorite student might seem a bit bold, but I'm genuinely excited to see how this unfolds. There's a mix of anticipation and nerves brewing inside me, especially since I have a tendency to be a bit clumsy. All I can hope is that I don't trip in front of everyone! But with only fellow students and faculty around, how hard can it be? I can already imagine my teacher catching me if I do stumble. She seems really engaged, so I think it's worth the effort. Plus, there's no way I'm going to trip her!
I've been preparing for this moment and even packed my essentials. Then my teacher walked in, and wow, she was incredibly beautiful. Her eyes, her figure, and those lips—totally captivating. I think I may have to keep my feelings in check, though, and see how the day unfolds.
As the class started, everyone greeted the teacher, except me. She said, "Good morning, everyone. Please take your seats." When she called out, "Ivy, stand up," I startled and stood up. "Why didn't you greet me? Don't you have any manners?" She approached me, her tone commanding. "Don't let this happen again."
I couldn't resist responding, "What if I do it again? Who are you to shout at me like that?" She smirked and said, "You'll see what happens if you do it again." I felt a shiver run down my spine as her gaze traveled over me. "Why are you wearing such a short dress? It's against the dress code," she added.
I shot back, "You have no right to comment on my clothes." She replied firmly, "Actually, I do because I'm your teacher. Go change into something more appropriate right now. I'll lend you some of my spare clothes; check the cabinet in my office." I reluctantly agreed and went to change.
When I returned, I was in a loose sweatshirt and leggings. She came closer and whispered in my ear, "You look great in my clothes." I was taken aback and quietly took my seat. As the day passed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of her gaze on me throughout the lectures—it felt intense, almost as if she was claiming me.
Just as I was about to leave the classroom, I heard her call out, "Hey, you, come here." I walked over and asked, "Yes, ma'am?" She instructed, "Meet me in my office in ten minutes."