Part One -- Class

Natasha, or simply Tasha stepped from her apartment onto the busy city street on her way to class. A freshman at NYU, she had to work two jobs just to afford this crappy apartment and tuition, even with her scholarship, so today was going to be a full one.

The early morning sun cast honey-colored highlights on her styled hair. Her father's mixed Eurasian blood gave her striking features, thick honey blond hair and deep eyes. Her mother's Latin side graced her with a voluptuous figure. Her ass was a perfect bubble, sweeping out from her slender waist, flexing in tune with her toned thighs. Having stopped gymnastics only a year ago, her C cup breasts were relatively new to this 18 year old, and swelled high and proud on her nubile frame.

Although money was tight, Tasha managed to find tasteful fashions in the city's consignment shops. She was wearing a faded denim skirt that came to mid thigh, a pink cotton blouse that was beginning to strain across her bust, and her favorite pair of alligator skin boots. Tasha also wore small wireframe glasses (she was almost blind without them) and of course a small backpack for her books.

Although Tasha somehow managed to make it to 18 still a virgin, she still loved to flirt with boys. Her stunning figure and teasing nature has earned her a reputation as a cock tease from more than one ex-boyfriend.

Tasha's path to her morning sociology lecture took her past a farmer's market. She was running a little early for once, so she strolled through the produce stands. A buff young man at one of the stands caught her eye. The dark hair and complexion, along with the ear ring pretty much labeled this guy a gypsy.

Tasha approached and give him her sweetest smile. He blushed and lowered in his eyes in response. His shyness just emboldened Tasha. She leaned over the label, giving him a clear view of her tightly packed cleavage. He gulped deeply, but when her eyes met his, he looked away, flustered.

She pretended the straps on her backpack were bothering her, and twisted them about, forcing her shoulders back and chest out. Her blouse pulled even tighter, yawning open gaps between the straining buttons, revealing a white lace bra.

"Uh oh," she gasped at her exposure, partially feigned and partially real. Tasha was no slut, but she did like to tease the boys when the mood hit her. The gypsy boy was breaking out in a cold sweat. Tasha "adjusted" her blouse by grabbing her tits and pushing them together, creating a cleavage line almost to her neck. She laughed at her predicament, giving an extra bounce to her tits. Still the boy was speechless.

Tasha gave him a wave and a smile, and turned to leave. Suddenly a dark-haired girl was in her face. She had thick piles of wild black hair, a simple white tank top over her small, pointed breasts, and a long skirt. It didn't take a genius to figure this girl was his girlfriend.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, getting right in Tasha's face.

"Checking out the produce," Tasha retorted, defiant.

"You dirty whore! You leave my man alone! Don't you EVER flirt with him!"

"Listen sweetie, don't you ever tell me who I can flirt with, understand?" Tasha turned to leave. The gypsy girl reached out and grabbed Tasha's breast! Tasha squealed in surprise. The gypsy girl leaned in close and murmured, "You go, and you show yourself off for the whole city, for any man who wants to see. The more you fight it, the worse it gets!"

Tasha thought nothing of it at the time, but she would later replay those words again and again. But for now, she was late for class.

Tasha settled into her seat of the small lecture room. She usually sat in the back row so she could text her friends if she got bored. The downside was it put her crotch right at eye level for Prof. Raleigh.

Prof. Raleigh had a reputation among the women of NYU for his habit of checking out the coeds. He was relatively harmless, and never made so much as rude comment to any girl. Some girls even flashed him on purpose, perhaps hoping to send the aging Professor into cardiac arrest. Nonetheless, Tasha always kept her legs tightly crossed against the Professor's probing eyes.

Ever since he was a young man, Sinclair Raleigh loved peeking up girls skirts. Sometimes he wonders if he didn't become a lecturer simply to be surrounded beautiful young women in short skirts. The Professor had glimpsed more panties than he could ever count, and this particular class was fast become a favorite of his.

There was the Goth Girl, short raven black hair, too much eye liner, and beautiful, perky breasts. Black panties, always. Usually satin, occasionally a thong, that might reveal a hint of ass check pressing into her seat. She also liked to wear thigh high stockings. She clearly wasn't a morning person, and was usually too groggy to notice even the most obvious stares from Raleigh.

There was the adorable Asian girl. Short, lithe build, with great legs. She frequently work dangerously short skirts, and cotton panties with cartoon characters on them. She was terrible at keeping her legs together, so by now the Professor new her entire panty wardrobe by heart. Too easy, no thrill there anymore.

Then there was the one he called the Princess. Too blond, too tan, and too good looking for her own good. Great tits, long, muscular legs, pouty lips, and all of the attitude to match. The kind of student that costs men their jobs. However, Raleigh was no ordinary pervert. He bided his time, never a glance over when she uncrossed her legs, consciously luring him to look. When she got bored with his lectures, he pretended not to notice when she would listen to her iPod, and that was her failing. Lost in her music, her eyes would close, her feet would bounce, and her knees would drift farther and farther apart. Her opened skirts would reveal a wide variety of expensive and delicate panties. It seemed like he never saw the same pair twice! And on one particularly hot day, he could swear she wasn't wearing any panties at all, baring her clean shaven pussy to him! That one very nearly did give him a heart attack!

And then there was Natasha, known to her friends simply as Tasha. The one girl he had never managed to peek on, and such a gorgeous one, too. She always keeps her legs crossed, firm thighs locked like a vise. Even when sitting or standing, she managed to deflect the Professors every attempt. She either turned to the side to uncross herself or kept a palm pressed between her legs to block any glimpse. This girl was good, but Raleigh was determined to get his due.

Tasha opened her notebook, and half-heartedly jotted down notes as Prof. Raleigh began his lecture. Her mind was still back at the farmer's market, and that crazy gypsy girl. Her tit still tingled a little from the encounter, and she brushed it gently with the back of her hand.

As Prof. Raleigh began today's lecture, he took stock of the fine ladies before him. The Goth Girl was wearing a floor length skirt. No luck there. The Asian Girl was wearing jeans. The Princess was either skipping class or planning on making one of her trademark late entrances. That left Tasha, the one and only girl to grace him with a skirt and the possibility of a panty peek, albeit a very slight one. Prof. Raleigh was feeling lucky- today just might be the day he finally sees her mysterious undies!

The Professor went through his lecture as he had a thousand times before. It was completely memorized and left most of his attention free for Tasha. Of course, her legs were crossed tightly, surrendering only a beautiful view of her tanned underthigh. Raleigh paced the room to check every angle. No matter which direction he looked, about her legs or from below, all he could see was an impenetrable pinhole of darkness. Nevertheless, this was a short skirt, especially for the relatively conservative Tasha.

She began fiddling with her cell phone. Like Princess' iPod, the Professor overlooked this in the hopes it would distract the coed from maintaining a lady-like pose. Sadly, with Tasha, it never worked.

Instantly bored by today's lecture, Tasha began texting her friends. It wasn't long before she felt Prof. Raleigh's intent gaze on her, on her legs. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, wiggling in her seat. She was feeling a bit exposed, and hoped she wasn't showing off anything she shouldn't be.

Minutes passed. Tasha noticed an itch, a tickle on her inner thigh. The Professor was still keeping a close eye on her. That itch was getting annoying. Scratching it would mean uncrossing her legs, but ignoring it was quickly becoming impossible.

Tasha pressed her hand between her legs, shielding her crotch from any view by her lecherous teacher, and nimbly uncrossed her legs.

Prof. Raleigh stumbled in his droning speech- Tasha was uncrossing her legs! She kept one hand between her legs, blocking the wonderful view up her skirt. She thrust her free hand behind her first, almost right up her skirt, and scratched at her flawless skin. Tasha seemed relieved to finally catch that itch, and quickly recrossed her legs.

Tasha was relieved to have her legs crossed again- the teacher was really earning his prurient reputation today. She tugged at her hem again- she never realized just how short this skirt really was. From her point of view, the denim skit looked to be just a few inches from her crotch- far far shorter than she ever remembered it. Tasha could feel the bare skin of her thighs against the warm plastic of the seat. She pulled harder at her skirt, but it only seemed to make it worse.

"The more you fight it, the worse it gets!" No, that's stupid, she thought. This has nothing to do with that damn gypsy girl. This is just a minor fashion crisis. Her hemline was probably just snagged on a bolt or maybe a crack in the seat. Again Tasha yanked at it, and the skirt seemed to yank right back, losing another inch.

"Okay, what the hell?" Tasha fumed. She lifted her ass just an inch off the seat, and slipped her hand underneath, looking for her caught hem. There was nothing! No loose bolts or cracks or anything pulling her skirt up. What she did find was that her skirt had risen so far, the bottoms of her ass cheeks were slipping out.

Tasha gave a good hard pull at her skirt from underneath, and again the skirt resisted. When she gave up and sat back normally, Tasha's skirt wasn't even underneath her anymore. It was completely bunched up behind her, leaving her bar skin touching the seat.

Prof. Raleigh was so rapt by the little scene playing out before him, he could have been lecturing on Chinese Arithmetic. At first he was worried that young Natasha had caught him inspecting her lovely legs.

The way she was fumbling with her skirt. It looked like she was trying to pull it down to a more modest level, but the skirt was actually slowly creeping up her legs. By now her wiggling and fidgeting had caused the skirt to ride so far, it left nothing between her and the seat. Nothing between her and her most intimate place, except the thin fabric of her panties.

Tasha was always so well-dressed, he was sure her panties would be something sensual yet tasteful. The Young lady was beginning to blush visibly, and rightly so. With her skirt almost entirely up around her hips, the only thing keeping her panties from being on display was her hand, thrust prudishly between her smooth thighs. It was the only thing stopping him from a divine view up the most impenetrable skirt on campus.

Tasha's skirt was so short, the hand covering the view of her panties was actually touching them! It occurred to her on some level that she had her hand up her skirt and was touching herself fright in the middle of class. She almost pulled her hand away in shame until she thought better of it. Tasha was almost trembling with humiliation, although the only person who might have noticed her predicament was her pervy teacher.

Just then, that rich blond bitch Kari came strutting in late, making one of her grand entrances. She flashed her smile around the room, taking note of who was taking note of her, when she spotted Tasha. Kari spotted the skirt, and Tasha's embarrassed body language, and grinned to herself as she took her seat.

Tasha decided to confide in one of her friends. Maybe they had an idea of what to do? Then again, how often do magically shrinking skirts actually happen? As she typed away the text message, the cell phone slipped from her fingers, bounced off her lap, and landed into the next row. Right in the backpack of that Goth Girl! Prof. Raleigh watched the whole event play out with great anticipation.

Tasha need to get her phone back before class ended and the Goth Girl walked off with it. She couldn't just squat down and grab it without grabbing the Professor's attention with her lewd display. She hatched a simple enough plan. Excuse herself to the restroom. Take a few minutes and figure out just what the hell was wrong with her skirt today. When she returns, she'd squat down at her backpack, her back to the Professor, as if she needs to get another book out. Then just simply reach back into Goth Girl's bag and snag her phone back.

It was a stupid plan, but right now it was better than now plan. Tasha waited until Prof, Raleigh was writing on the board and had his back turned. She leapt out of her chair and was halfway to the door before he even turned around to spot her. Her skirt was still at scandalous heights, and she kept one hand in front and one in back to guard herself. The pose drew the attention of everyone in the class, but definitely less so than running around with her panties showing.

She made it to the hallway before the professor could even ask where she was going. There was no one around, but she didn't dare walk any faster than a mince for fear of her skirt riding up even more. She had never felt so naked and vulnerable, even though she was still fully clothed.

At long last she made it to the ladies room. Her reflection in the mirror completely stunned her- the skirt was fine! Tastefully at mid-thigh, right where it was when she walked out the door that morning. No snags, no rips, no evidence whatsoever that anything strange was happening to her skirt. Maybe she just dreamed the whole thing, and woke up when she dropped her cell phone? Well, at least that was one problem solved. Tasha felt much more relaxed and confident. She cleaned her glasses, adjusted her blouse and fixed her hair. Now she just had to get her phone back from that creepy Goth Girl.

Tasha strode back into class a new woman. Prof. Raleigh was surprised to see her skirt back at a more modest length, especially considering how short it seemed just a few minutes ago when she rushed out. He had so hoped of finally getting a peek at this gorgeous girl's panties!

Then something happened that no one in the class room could quite believe. As Tasha walked the steps to the third row, her skirt seemed to rise, pull back like a curtain before a show. Now she had the rapt attention of every male in the classroom, as well as that one Asian girl. It seemed like a good 6 inches of denim just evaporated before everyone's eyes.

Tasha was blissfully unaware of her skirt's deteriorating condition, and continued with her plan to recover her cell phone. Prof. Raleigh had to resist the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees just to get a lower vantage. Quick flashes of the bottom of her ass cheeks peeked out with every stride back to her desk.

And then she did it- she squatted down at her desk. Looking through her bag or something. Who knows? Who cares? Silence hung in the room, every eye turned on her, and her toned thighs. Her ass cheeks peeking out, resting on the heels of her boots. Yet no panties, not yet. Somehow the skirt managed to cover them, by the smallest fraction of an inch.

Tasha proceeded with her plan, oblivious to the dead silence and intense focus on her ass and skirt. Until, that is, she turned around to reach grab her cell phone from the Goth Girl's bag. Tasha yelped in surprise- Goth Girl was looking right at her! So was Prof. Raleigh, and everyone else in class. She was so shock, she fell forward to her knees.

Prof. Raleigh will cherish that moment for the rest of his days. It was like time stood still. Her knees hit the floor, her hands soon following. The subtle jiggle in her breasts from the gentle impact. The way she unconsciously arched the small of her back, accentuating the round fullness of her hips and ass. The look of bashful surprise on her face. But most of all, the panties.

White. High cut, tracing a narrow arc across the swell of each cheek. The way the dimples of her inner thigh disappeared behind the delicate lace. The delicate bump where the thin fabric traced the intimate shape of her sex. They were semi-sheer, and although not a single pubic hair was visible, Raleigh would swear to his dying day that he could make out the delicate fleshy ruffles of her pursed lips.

Tasha SCREAMED! Her panty-clad ass, waving in front of the entire class. At least three students had camera phones out! She wrenched at her skirt, which had become little more than a wide belt, but in her desperate flailing, she toppled backwards. Backwards, into the row below, onto the terrified Goth Girl.

Tasha landed roughly on the poor Goth Girl, turning herself upside down. Her shoulders plopped into Goth Girls lap, and her legs wrapped around Goth Girls shocked face. Prof. Raleigh quickly stepped behind his desk to conceal his growing erection- the sight was heavenly. Tasha's lacy thin panties were pressed against Goth Girl's neck and chin.

"Get OFF!" Goth Girl growled, giving Tasha a shove. Tasha continued her fall to the floor, giving the room a full view of her barely covered ass as her skirt bunched around her waist. Tasha was disoriented from her fall, and found herself nearly half-naked on the floor. She could her camera phones snapping pictures all around her, stealing images of her most private, intimate parts. The humiliation was overwhelming.

She grabbed for the closest thing, anything, and pulled at it with fevered strength, hoping to hide her shame. Cloth piled on her, at least hiding her tiny white panties. Black cloth. Goth Girl's long skirt.

Goth Girl was completely dumbstruck. This crazy girl just fell over her and now ripped off her skirt. It took her a moment to realize she was standing in front of about 30 of her peers in just a black lace bustier, black boots, her trademark thigh high stockings, and a skimpy black thong. She chose to ignore her indecency for the time being, and tried to wrestle the skirt back from Tasha.

This sight would become Prof. Raleigh's most treasured memory. The Goth Girl, in her miniscule black thong, pale white thighs and black stockings. Tasha, the exotic Eurasian coed, in her elusive white lacy bikini briefs, too sheer to completely hide her nudity. Both wrestled furiously for control of the long black skirt. Tasha was already flushed and quivering with embarrassment. The Goth Girl's pale complexion was quickly rouging at the spectacle.

Raleigh was never a breast man, but he had to appreciate how both girls lovely bosoms jiggled in the exertion. Although Goth Girl's breasts were slightly smaller, her bustier put her pale cleavage on display so nicely. Tasha's fuller breasts were packed into a very snug pink blouse, its buttons straining to contain her womanly charms.

Almost on cue, the top button on her blouse popped free. The bloused yawned open, squeezing even more of her tanned cleavage into view, as well as some of her white lace bra. It matched her panties so nicely. Tasha screamed again, and gave up her grip on the black skirt.

While Goth Girl recovered her skirt and her modesty, Tasha scrambled to her feet. One hand clutched her blouse, the other, her crotch. She froze for a moment, unsure what to do or where to run. Raleigh couldn't take his eyes off her perfect white panties.

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