The beauty with fiery locks (writing style change)

After a long moment of inner contemplation, and more than a touch of external inspection, you finally come to a choice. Your eye has been caught by the slight young woman with the fiery hair, hesitant demeanor, yet curious eyes. Her shirt is woven in lines of muted colors, swelling only in subtle curves over her understated bosom. Her jeans suggest the legs of a dancer, and you find yourself wanting to learn more- to see more.

"Her." you say, looking straight at her. Surprised, her eyes raise to meet yours. They are wide, cautious but not fearful.

"Sophia", Diana speaks softly but clearly, her authority gently carrying into the room, "Would you be willing to undress? It will help the classroom see how a man's penis can respond to the sight of a beautiful woman."

Sophia turns a shade of crimson, whether at the idea of undressing, or at the compliment from her teacher, you can't be certain. The girls sitting near her smile encouragingly; one puts her hand on Sophia's shoulder. Emboldened, she rises from her seat, takes a breath, and steps forward. "What specifically would you have me do?"

"Anything you wish, Sophia," her teacher speaks gently, "You need only remove what you feel comfortable with, and simply watch to see how he responds."

Sophia nods. Her lips press together, and her hands hover for moment, as if uncertain what to do. But only a moment passes before she turns to face you. She looks somewhere smaller, even though she's standing, but as her fingers begin to work down the buttons of her blouse, she fills up the whole room in your eyes.

Delicate, white skin slowly reveals itself to you and Diana, the rest of the class still sitting behind Sophia. Smooth skin, an exposed clavicle. Instead of a brassier you are rewarded by the sight of a slight, exposed curve of flesh as she undoes the fourth button. The gap stays narrow, you wish you could see more than the rounded curve, but she's still modest.

Nevertheless, your manhood rises as her neckline drops to the pale flesh of her belly, and her eyes clearly drift downwards.

You freeze- will this frightened bird take flight? But instead her lips loosen, and curve upwards ever so slightly. More importantly her fingers speed in their task, eyes well fixed on your most prominent feature. Soon her blouse is fully undone, gifting you with the lines of her ribs, and the inner curve of each delicate breast- but though unbuttoned the blouse remains on, and you see nothing more.

Watching her, your desire grows further along with your manhood. Hoping she doesn't see you as a savage, you allow your hand to gently meet that growth, stoking the fires as you watch her. Again, the opposite effect of what you feared takes place, as her chest flushes and her breath full within the cage of her ribs.

To your disappointment she leaves the blouse in place, but watching you fixedly she slips off her jeans before you can blink. Then she freezes, standing there in the glory of her dancer's legs, pale and strong, her modesty covered only by a thin white undergarment.

Your hand, at first moving slowly, is now gripping your manhood with the same intensity with which her lithe body has gripped your attention. As you feel the growing ache of your own bodily desire you also hunger to see the rest of her body, willing her to remove her blouse or to step closer so you can perhaps reach out and touch her in her own pleasure, She watches you, rapt and unwavering.

"Please," you plead from your own lust, "I must see more. If you truly want to see me at me fullest, show me more."

Diana speaks warningly, "It looks as though you're fully erect already, Joe. Excellent work, Sophia."