A meeting, a gift and something more.

Feeling somewhat stunned by the whole incident, you leave Diana's office, shutting the door behind you. Wanting to clear your head with some fresh air, you turn towards the main entrance intending to take a brisk walk before the orientation sessions.

"Bonjour M'sieur!" a lilting voice calls to you. You turn to see a student striding towards you, her pleated skirt swinging prettily as she walks, showing an expanse of toned thigh. Her black hair is worn in a pageboy cut, framing her stunningly pretty face. She's smiling as she approaches you, holding out a box tied with a coloured ribbon.

"Bonjour M'sieur Watts. I am Gabrielle DuPlessis," she trills with a delightful accent. "I have brought you a present to warm your house. That is correct, is it not? To warm your house?"

"Something like that," you smile as you take the present.

"Hélas, I have not mastered the idioms," she sighs, looking adorable. "Je suis désolé. I must improve. It is why I am here, to learn to speak like an American." She shrugs, and from the movement beneath her pink uniform shirt it's evident that she is braless.

"You speak very well, Gabrielle and with a perfectly charming accent," you smile, enjoying the delicious look of the French teen.

"Alors! M'sieur is teasing poor Gabrielle! That is very wicked!" she laughs throatily. "Très méchant. I must escape before you tease this innocent girl again. Non, non, M'sieur, you must not open it here," she puts a hand out to touch you as you start to pull on the ribbon holding the box shut. "It is a, private present, n'est-ce pas? Not for all to see. Adieu M'sieur."

"Wait a moment young lady," you say sternly, putting your hand out to stop her. You've had all you can stand of wilful women for one morning, and while you have to take it from your boss, you certainly don't have to put up with it from a student. She looks at you with surprise, then lowers her head, looking at you from under her eyelashes in pretended shyness as you untie the ribbon securing the box.

Opening it and looking inside you smile and look at the blush colouring the cheeks of the pretty French girl.

For there, inside the box, are two cupcakes, carefully iced to look like the pretty breasts of a young girl, the dark nipples stiff and pebbled. On the inside of the box lid the message 'Bon appétit! Enjoy! Gabrielle DuPlessis' is written in cursive script with a line drawing of a contented looking cat above it.

"Very nice, Miss DuPlessis," you tell the blushing girl. "These look simply delicious." They do look very tempting, and your gaze flickers from the box to her chest as you wonder if her tits looked anything like these frosted treats.

"Pardonez-moi, M'sieur Watts," she says shyly. "I think I will be leaving now." The flustered young woman's eyes refuse to meet yours as she meekly starts to turn away. You put your hand on her arm and stop her again.

"Do you think this is an appropriate gift for a student to give to a teacher Miss Duplessis?" you say sternly. "Do you think that I am the type of man who is likely to let something like this go unpunished?" Her breathing is deeper and more rapid and she bites at her lower lip as she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry M'sieur, I didn't mean harm." Her eyes peer up at you in supplication from under her bangs and you feel a combination of sympathy, amusement and arousal blend inside you. She takes a deep breath that lifts her breasts against her shirt, her stiff nipples leaving clear indentations against the fabric of her blouse. "Are you going to send me to the Dean M'sieur?"