Cassie’s College Journey — Part 10
Back to School
Please note, this is Part 10 of a series. I hope you enjoyed reading Parts 1–9.
I woke up with the alarm on my pink iPad. I set it last night, determined to surprise Harry and wake up before him.
Stretching deliciously in my comfy pink tee and silky thong, I jumped out from under my smooth pink sheets, ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair, pulling it back into a ponytail held with a pink scrunchy. Next, I squirmed into the skin-tight pink yoga pants and wrestled to put on my pink yoga sport bra, zipping up my pink lightweight yoga jacket as I quietly bounded down the stairs.
I had the table set, coffee going and was finishing up making avocado toast when I heard Harry’s heavy masculine tread coming down the stairs.
With a surprised, but extremely pleased look on his face, Harry openly inspected me from head to toe and back, smiled brilliantly and said in his warm approving voice: “Good morning, Casey. This is a pleasant surprise. You look very nice. I could get used to this.”
Blushing furiously while the pleasure neurons bounced happily with the butterflies in my tummy, I thanked him and offered coffee.
We sat and had breakfast and chit-chatted. Harry glanced at his watch, got up from the table and came around to my side. Standing behind me, he placed both of his strong masculine hands on my narrow shoulders, pressing gently down, he leaned over and spoke directly into one ear, and thanked me for making breakfast and apologised for having to leave me with the dishes as he left for work.
I felt Harry’s firm hands pressing down and his warm breath tickling my ear and neck. The butterflies took flight while tingly sensations chased across my body, and dopamine crashed over me, and the pleasure neurons skittered about.
Harry left quickly while I continued to sit for a bit, catching my breath, odd thoughts swirling around my brain.
Thoughts still tumbling in my brain, I took off my pink lightweight yoga jacket and domestically and dutifully cleared the table and washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen in my pink yoga pants and sport bra. I thought about laundry and decided if we did laundry also mid-week, that would make Saturday easier.
I hopped up the stairs and gathered my girly cloths I had worn this far along with my bath towels. I realised it would be better if I waited until I finished yoga, I could add these clothes to the load.
My mind drifted to Harry and his clothes, he must have also accumulated a lot. I hesitantly opened the door to his bedroom.
The bed was a mess, and clothes were piled up in a laundry basket in his bathroom. I felt a bit funny the thought doing Harry’s laundry, the garments he had worn and sweated in, musky with his masculine scent, but reminded myself how much he had provided for me, so I gathered his dirty clothes, devotedly sorted then and started a load in the washing machine.
I decided to make his bed while I was at it, for some odd reason the happy neurons purring contentedly and a warm wash of dopamine flowing onto my brain.
Harry’s laundry in process, I bounced back downstairs and started yoga. I was pleased with my progress and had moved from the beginner videos to intermediate. The pretty Asian girl being an excellent instructor. I could see my legs and tummy and derrière were starting to resemble hers, and that made me proud. My flexibility had improved tremendously, particularly in my pelvis, where I was diligently pushing to achieve the splits. Happy neurons dancing and warm dopamine with these thoughts.
Yoga complete, running back up the stairs, which were also providing great exercise, particularly for my derrière and thighs and calves, I checked on laundry, peeled off my pink yoga outfit and thong and jumped in the shower.
Post shower grooming in my lovely coral peach silky mid-thigh robe, and then changing into my drab boy clothes, checking on laundry, and heading to my pink bicycle to pedal to school.
Back in classes at school was so wonderfully positive. All the girls gave me big hugs. They told me that Brittany had filled them in, and they were so happy to see that I was ok.
The lunch conversation at the girls table was as all about Halloween. They debated their costume options and choices and how silly or cute or sexy they wanted to present depending on the type of party they were attending.
Evidently the girls considered Halloween the one night of the year any girl could dress like a slut, and it was acceptable. They all relished, but were somewhat frightened of the freedom this allowed.
A large amount of the conversation revolved around choosing the best panties to go with their outfit. I was really confused by this, and evidently it showed on my face.
Brittany grabbed my arm and explained: “Casey, honey. We women know that men enjoy looking at our bodies, and honestly, we enjoy the attention, though we pretend we don’t. There is nothing more thrilling than to suddenly feel eyes on you and turn to see a man appraising your derriere or legs.”
I blushed, happy neurons bouncing around and felt that tingly sensation as I remembered dusting the apartment in my yellow sport bra and skin-tight yellow yoga pants, yellow silky thong underneath to avoid any visible panty lines, and turning to see Harry observing me.”
Megan, an interior design student jumped in: “When we wear any type of dress or skirt, we know at some point we will inadvertently allow our panties to be seen. We always take this into account when we get dressed, if you’re going for a job interview or meeting a boy’s parents and they get a teasing glimpse of scarlet red panties, that sends the wrong signal. On Halloween, we will wear a really short skirt, which means at some point in the night, or several pints in the night, someone will see our panties.”
Brittany responded: “It’s actually a deliciously thrilling feeling, knowing that a man is looking at my panties. I get all tingly. And on Halloween, we can show off our panties on purpose and enjoy teasing men, and pretend it’s an accident.”
For some reason I suddenly remembered walking up the stairs in front of Harry after art supplies and ice cream and wondering how he would react if he saw the beautiful pink string bikini panties with the lovely lace that I was wearing and the tingly feeling I felt.
Lunch was over, so we either headed to afternoon classes, or in my case, back home. Pedalling my pink bicycle back to the townhouse, my mind was a whirl of the lunch conversation at the girls table.
Arriving home, I domestically checked on the laundry, folded Harry’s clothes neatly, which I tenderly placed in his bed, and moved mine to the dryer. I quickly took off my boy clothes with relief and took a long sensual shower, wrapping myself in my silky coral peach robe, I went to look for something to wear for dinner with Harry, a warm dopamine rush and happy neurons playfully bouncing as I put on my silky robe.
Looking through my options, I chose a really pretty yellow silky blouse and skin-tight jeans. The blouse was a little frilly, but I thought Harry would like it based on his overwhelmingly positive reaction to the yellow yoga outfit. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail with a yellow scrunchy, and located yellow satin bikini panties with scalloped white lace on the front.
Laying back on my pink bed, I shifted my privates up inside and tucked my submissively whimpering member back and tight against my silky smooth perineum. Again, once fully tucked, a tidal wave of dopamine washed over me, lights flashed in my eyes, and my body felt limp as my pleasure neurons languidly bobbed around.
Once I recovered my breath, I wriggled into the skin-tight jeans, slipped on the yellow silky blouse and located some yellow socks. I checked on the laundry again, tenderly folding my wonderful girly clothes and happily putting them away in my overflowing wardrobe.
Heading downstairs with the pink iPad, I thought about what I would try to make Harry for dinner.
