to class

Maybe you can still make it to class. You rush in the direction of the university but you are delayed a couple of times by not making it on time to the pedestrian crossing. You are now panting for breath when you enter the gates.

When you finally arrive at the classroom, no one is around except Hanna, the tomboyish girl from grade school who still sported a ponytail but is no longer flat-chested-- her shirt actually accentuated her boobs. "Hi Hanna!" You greet her. "No class today?"

She grins at you. "You're still the typical Nick. Late!"

"No. I've changed!" you say.

"Then why were you 45 minutes late?"

You argue with yourself whether you should tell Hanna everything that happened, or whether you should just omit some parts that were not relevant to justifying your being late. "Well, I saw Jessica and it took me a while to avoid running into her." you say, trying to sound vague.

"You still believe she hates you? That's been years ago. Come on. You're both adults now."

"That's also what I thought," you reply. "But what if she's still mad at me?"

"Was it really that bad?"

"I really don't even know why she hated me then."

"Forget about her then. You're just wasting energy even thinking about her."

"I never think about her. I just happened to see her."

"So, something just happened between the two of you, and you're not telling me about it?"

You shake your head and try to suppress a grin as you recall how your encounter with Jessica ended.

"Why the grin? What are you even thinking about?"

You gaze at Hanna with intensity. "I should look at you more often so I can forget about Jessica."

She moves to the empty seat on you right, and grins at you. "I don't mind actually."

"But back in grade school, I always thought you that you were a boy."

"Why?" she asks, slightly surprised.

"Are those even real?" you say, staring at the outline of her former tits that now look like boobs.

"You could feel them if you're in doubt," she says as she unbuttons the top part of her shirt.

"Really?" you ask, as you reach towards her chest. You slightly squeeze her left boob and notice her biting her lower lip, trying not to show how she's feeling. You move to her right boob and squeeze it harder.

"And what else made you think I was a boy?" she asks further.

"Well, you could outrun me, and almost any other boy in school-- even when we were in high school. You were not scared of spiders, and..."

She suddenly grasps your crotch and unzips your fly, then pulls out your slightly hardened cock.

"Hey, someone might see us," you exclaim.

She squeezes your cockhead tightly to the point of pain. "How about now?" she asks, leaning closer so that you could feel her breath on you cockhead. "Do I still look boyish?"