vulnerability

She slides off my lap and stands up, holding out a hand to me. "Come on then, darling. Let's go have that shower."

As we start to get undressed, I can't help but notice that she's being unusually shy about revealing her body to me. She hsd already practically undressed me, so why was she so nervous? My eyes are drawn to the stretch marks on her hips and stomach, little ridges of pale skin that stand out in contrast to her tan complexion.

Normally, she exudes a confident and dominant aura, but now I detect a hint of vulnerability in her expression. She's clearly trying to act like this doesn't bother her, but I can see the insecurity in her eyes.

I pull my skirt off, revealing a few of the same marks on my hips, I sigh and try to show her subtly, not knowing what to do in this situation. One part of me knows how wrong this all is and thinks that now the mood has died a bit. I should just kill it off and be responsible, but the other part of me can't help myself. Was I seriously going to share a shower with my teacher?

Miss Adams looks over at me as I stand there in just my underwear, her eyes sweeping over my body. Her gaze lingers on the stretch marks on my hips, and a flicker of something passes over her face - recognition, perhaps?

She lets out a shaky breath before reaching out and running her fingertips over the marks, her touch gentle and reverent. I watch her fingers graze over me, totally content with her exploring.

Miss Adams continues to trail her fingers over my skin, gently tracing the contours of my hips and stomach. There's something almost worshipful in her touch, as if she's discovering something precious and rare.

As she continues her exploration, I notice a vulnerability in her eyes. It's a side of her I've never seen before, and it only serves to draw me further into this strange and forbidden intimacy.

"You're so beautiful," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "These marks... they're part of who you are." As she speaks, she gently traces a particularly prominent stretch mark on my hip. "They're not something to be ashamed of. They're just a reminder that you've lived, loved, and grown."

"I could say the same for you." I whisper back. Her hand instinctively covers her own up, and I gently take it away and hold it. I look up and into her eyes, "you know most women have stretch marks right? It's really common."

She gives me a small smile, her eyes searching mine. "You really don't mind, do you?" She gestures to her body, and I can see the self-consciousness in her expression.

I shake my head, "Not one bit. You're beautiful." Ew... I was being so soppy right now.

As soon as I say those words, I can see the change in her eyes. The vulnerability is still there, but it's quickly being pushed aside by her dominant nature. Her smirk returns, now with an added element of playfulness.

"You know, darling," she says, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "You're much sweeter than I ever gave you credit for."