I was sitting in class one evening when an attractive young woman hurried in late.

She was wearing a fitted Oxford shirt over cropped khaki pants and sandals. The classroom was crowded and we were all crammed in together around tables that formed a large U. I watched as she struggled to get into her chair, and when she bent over to wedge her way into it, I was granted a spectacular view down the front of her shirt. I thought in the next millisecond my gaze would behold a glimpse of aureole, or perhaps an entire nipple.

Alas, the sight vanished as she settled into the chair. As the hour proceeded, I began to wonder if this woman was wearing a bra. After all, I had seen so much of her breasts without the merest hint of a strap or cup. Then I noticed the reason I had seen so much. The top three buttons of her shirt... Read More