Maria discovers her state of undress

“Killer look, professor,” someone said from the hall, accompanied by a minor chorus of chuckles. Maria cocked her head quizzically. What was that supposed to mean? And why is a compliment funny? She frowned, returned to her desk, and glanced down. Her eyes were met with considerably more cleavage than she had envisioned. She gasped as she saw the cups of her black lace bra; her panties; the upper bands of her stockings. Where is my skirt? My sweater?! H- how?!

Before she could register what she was seeing, Jordan was in front of her. Maria’s eye line was dominated by the phone’s camera shutter thrust in her direction.

> Flash <

“Eek!”

Jordan inspected the picture: A frontal shot of Maria standing with her mouth open, hands half-raised, the elastic of her underwear and the curves of her skin glistening in the harsh light of the flash, while her face was contorted with confusion and surprise. “Thanks for the lesson, Miss Vargas,” he said, lowering the phone. “Same time next week.”

Maria let out a shuddering breath as the door fell closed behind Jordan. I’m- I’m in my underwear. She stood beside her desk, flummoxed in her state of undress, as she warily looked around the classroom and tried to process. How long have I been standing in my underwear? Did they all see? Of course they saw. She finally covered herself, then stopped, then covered herself again, as if the empty desks might still be watching.