I was twenty-two and a first year teacher in this small town with its “eyes everywhere” feel. In any other situation, the two of us could have had a hot romance or we could have been sex buddies, but this was different. I was her teacher and she was my student. I guess that placed me in a position of dominance over her. I liked thinking about us in that way, me the dominator and she my submissive, and I wondered how far she would go for a passing grade in my class.

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Winter came early in the northern plains and I was unaccustomed to the cold mornings. My classroom was slow to heat up, but when the students crowded in I quickly realized that the cold weather was not always a bad change. The young girls on the brink of womanhood were in sweaters that fit their bodies like gloves. Eager to show off their perfect and perky breasts, the more daring young women elected to forego the restrictions of a bra. It was technically against the rules, but I was certainly not going to complain. The coolness of the room made the young breasts sit up and beg, the hard nipples forming perfect peaks as they pressed against the constraints of the fabric. But no one looked better in a sweater than Brenda. She glided in that Monday morning as if she were floating on air. She dressed simply in jeans and a deep red sweater that set off her tanned skin perfectly. Brenda was one of the girls who elected not to wear a bra and her young nipples left a slightly darker shadow in their wake. A lot was left to the imagination and I was definitely imagining.