You try to squirm as you watch your attractive teacher walking towards you. You let out a sigh of relief as she turns right just before reaching you and instead starts to look at herself in the mirror. She rubs her left hand under one eye lightly, as if checking for crows feet or any wrinkles. She shouldn't bother, she looked great the way she was.
She smiles, apparently satisfied and walks past you, towards the tub. You blink, or at least it feels like you do, as you watch her bend down, with her back to you, and start up her bath water. With her skirt pressed tightly against her firmly toned posterior she starts adding scented salts and bubble baths to the rising waters. She quietly walks away from the tub to the closed closet and opens it quietly. Inside you can just see a few racks of fluffy white towels and a laundry hamper.
You watch in awe, as you watch her take off her healed shoes and place them next to the closet door. Then she slowly started slipping down the pantyhose, stepping out, first one leg then the other before tossing it into the hamper. She took off her jacket and tossed it in the hamper before she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. One at a time she unbuttoned each button and slipped out of her blouse, letting it drop to the floor. She pulled her skirt down to the floor and dropped it in the pile, letting out a sigh, stretching, obviously glad to be out of her clothes.
You stared at your French teacher, you would have never guessed in a million years that you'd be so lucky to see this beautiful woman with so little clothes on. Your French teacher stands before you in nothing but a white thong and and lacy white bra, and you knew that soon even that would be off of her.
She reaches behind her and silently takes off her bra, slipping her arms free of the straps she lets it fall to the ground as she wiggles out of her thong. She gathers up all the clothes she had dropped on the floor and stuffs them in a hamper. You marvel at her body as she walks towards you again, carrying a towel. She places it on something under you that you can't see. She keeps her hand down there for a little longer and when she draws it away you can hear gentle music playing. Apparently you're hanging above a radio.
Mrs. Daily sighs as she slips into the bubbly water in the tub next to you. "Ahh...rien toucher mieux à la fin de les le jour que une se baigner" You could pick out a few words in that sentence you knew, but you never really payed that much attention in her class, always too busy day dreaming.
You watch her bathe for over an hour, enjoying the sight of her shampooing her hair, soaping up her body and rinsing it off, and just lounging. Finally, she pulls herself out of the bath tub and lets the water start to drain. She walks back over to you, dripping wet, and picks up her towel. She dries herself quietly, wiping off the suds and water as you watch, a feeling of anticipation filling your body. You still had no idea what you were but you had a few guesses, several of them you hoped weren't true. Finally Mrs. Daily considered herself sufficiently dry and wrapped the towel around her head like a turban, keeping her hair inside it. She reaches out and grabs you, much to your surprise, and pulls you off the hook protruding from the wall. She slips her arm into you, filling your arm and then does the same to the other. You feel little like you are hugging her but you know of course you're not. She close your stomach around herself and ties your legs around her waist. She hums lightly as she walks out of the bathroom, wearing you. You look in the mirror but all you see is Mrs. daily wearing a white thigh length bath robe with a towel around her head.
She walks with you hugging her curves. After walking down a hall with highly polished wooden floors you notice her destination is.....
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