Yes.

Her mind keeps wandering back to what just happened with Dr. Davis, and she can't help but squirm in her seat, her thighs rubbing together. She tries to distract herself by taking notes, but her hand shakes slightly, making the words on her paper barely legible.

As the class drags on, Bianca finds herself checking her phone more and more frequently, hoping for a message from Dr. Davis or Robert. Finally, the professor ends the lecture, and Bianca quickly gathers her things, her heart racing as she heads for the door.

Once outside, Bianca checks her phone, and her breath catches in her throat when she sees Robert's message: "Lunch? The campus café."

Bianca smiles, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. She needs to see her boyfriend, to feel his arms around her, to hear his voice. She takes a deep breath and types back: "On my way."

As she walks towards the café, Bianca's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. She knows she should be focusing on the starting school year, but all she can think about is the feeling of Dr. Davis's cock inside her, his cum flooding her cunt. She feels guilty for cheating on Robert, but at the same time, she can't deny the intense attraction she feels towards her professor.

When she finally reaches the café, she spots Robert sitting at a table by the window.

As she approaches, he smiles and stands up, pulling her into a warm embrace. "There's my beautiful girl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Bianca slips into the booth next to him, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Hi babe," she says, trying to sound casual despite the lingering effects of her encounter with Dr. Davis.

To her surprise, Robert furrows his brows and asks, "Bianca, what did you eat? It's salty."

Bianca blushes, realizing that some of Dr. Davis' pre-cum must have seeped onto her lips during the blowjob. "Oh, um... I had a snack before class," she lies, squirming in her seat.

Robert seems to accept her explanation without question. He takes a sip of his drink, then leans back in the booth, his expression thoughtful.

"So, how's the semester shaping up?" he asks, his eyes locking onto hers. "Any classes that are really standing out to you?"

Bianca's smile is genuine, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It's been great so far. I'm really enjoying our psychology class." Her skin warms slightly as she thinks about Dr. Davis, but she pushes the memory aside.

Robert nodded his head, "It's great that Dr. Davis is helping you already. You're undecided as a major so maybe psychology is for you?" The question catches Bianca's attention, making her feel a twinge of unease.

Her cheeks flushing, Bianca focuses on Robert, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. "Just reflecting on the lectures," she says, careful not to reveal the chaos brewing inside. "Dr. Davis's enthusiasm for the subject is infectious."

Robert seems to accept her explanation and leans back in his seat, taking another sip of his drink. "That's good to hear. I know you were a bit nervous about the first day of classes, so I'm glad you're adjusting well."

Bianca nods, unable to shake the weight of her deceit. She knows she should confide in Robert, but her growing obsession with Dr. Davis silences her. She's not ready to give up the thrill of their secret, not yet at least.

As she settles into the conversation with Robert, Bianca becomes increasingly aware of the subtle sensations in her body, a lingering sensitivity that makes her squirm in her seat. When she crosses her legs, the fabric of her dress rides up, exposing a sliver of skin above her stockings.

Robert's gaze follows the movement, his expression a mixture of concern and disapproval. He reaches out, gently tugging the hem of her dress back into place. "You might want to be more mindful of that," he suggests, his voice low and gentle.

A flush rises to Bianca's cheeks as she feels a frisson of excitement. She's torn between a desire to push boundaries and the need to maintain a facade of innocence. "I'm fine," she says, her tone a little too sharp.

Robert's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. "I just don't want you to give the wrong impression," he explains, his hand brushing against hers.

Bianca's gaze drifts, her thoughts straying to the forbidden images that have been haunting her. She bites back a retort, aware that her feelings are already in turmoil. When the waiter arrives, she requests a Caesar salad, her voice steady, but her mind already wandering back to the thrill of her secret.

As she hands the menu back to the waiter, her eyes lock onto Robert's, a flicker of irritation dancing across her features. "Why did you do that?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, subtly nodding towards the hem of her dress that he had adjusted earlier.

Robert's eyebrows rise in confusion. "Do what?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink, seemingly oblivious to the tension that has suddenly settled between them.

Bianca's anger simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. "Adjust my dress," she clarifies, her tone measured, though her emotions betray her calm exterior. "Why did you feel the need to adjust my dress like that?"

Robert sets his drink down, his expression uneasy. "I just didn't want you to, you know, give the wrong impression," he repeats, his words falling flat amidst the unspoken undercurrents.

Bianca's lips purse, a spark of defiance igniting within her. "The wrong impression?" she echoes, her voice laced with derision. "You mean, like I'm some kind of slut who can't even dress herself?"

Robert's face flushes, his eyes darting nervously around the café as if embarrassed by the scene they're making. "Bianca, that's not what I meant," he protests, his voice low and soothing, but it only serves to fan the flames of her anger. "I just don't want anyone to think badly of you or our relationship because of how you're dressed."

Bianca's eyes seem to bore into his, searching for something - understanding, empathy, something - but she finds only genuine concern and a hint of disappointment.

In that moment, Bianca couldn't help but compare Dr. Davis and Robert. Dr. Davis had been her mirror for the day, fascinated by her boldness in wearing stockings and a beautiful dress, and had even pushed her to indulge in desires that drove her beyond her limits. He had enjoyed her effort, reveling in the knowledge of how she had dressed for him. And now, here was Robert, her boyfriend, scolding her on the very same thing that had been praised by her professor.

How could these two men see her so differently? How could Dr. Davis crave the flair and bravado she showed in her appearance, and yet Robert disapprove of the same trait? Bianca's thoughts swirled around these contradictions, exacerbating her growing frustration.

"I didn't realize I needed your permission on how to dress," she said, her voice cold and detached, trying to keep the storm brewing within her contained.

"Bianca, come on, I was just trying to - "

Robert trailed off, sensing Bianca's irritation. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just don't want anyone to think you're not...respectable," he finally said. The words hung in the air between them, a judgment on her behavior that day.

Bianca's jaw clenched. She could feel the anger bubbling up inside her, threatening to spill over. How dare he judge her? He didn't know what it was like to be seen by so many eyes, to be admired and desired. He didn't understand the thrill of it, the rush of power it gave her.

"I am respectable," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sitting here with you, aren't I? I'm not some...some loose woman who can't control herself."

She could see the hurt flash across Robert's face, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had her own pain to deal with, her own desires to contend with. Robert couldn't give her what she needed, couldn't understand what she was going through.

"I think I need some air," she said, sliding out of the booth. Without waiting for a response, she walked out of the café, leaving Robert behind, leaving behind the life she had once known.

As she stepped out into the sunlight, Bianca felt a sense of freedom, a lightness that she hadn't experienced before. She had made her choice, and now she would have to live with it. She would seek out Dr. Davis, seek out the passion and excitement that he offered. She would indulge in her desires, no matter the consequences.

And as she walked away, she knew that she would never go back to the way things were. She had crossed a line, and there was no turning back now.