The Dean's Office

I showered and thought about the vision. No way it could be true. I threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, slipped on some Birkenstocks and grabbed my backpack.

It was Friday and I had two classes: Psychology 102 and Advanced Calculus. Both were taught by male teachers. I got through the classes then saw Dean Stevens in the hall. I passed her and smiled, and she smiled back.

"Excuse me," she said as I passed.

I turned. "Yes, Dean?"

"Did I see you come out of Professor Rextall's class?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled warmly at me. "Come with me. Let's talk math." She led me to her office. She wore a black pantsuit. She was a bit bottom heavy, with a spankable ass, but she dressed pretty drably. Her hair was in a bun, and she wore glasses. She was young for a dean at least compared to the others I'd seen.

We went to her office, she offered me a seat, then sat herself and smiled at me.

"You're awfully young for a dean," I said, remembering my vision. "You look more like a news anchor or weather girl...excuse me: meteorologist."

"You're so kind," she said as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear in a flirty way.