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She checked her makeup one last time opened her door and proceeded to the heavy looking wood door with the frosted glass windows. She rang the doorbell as instructed. A figure came weaving back and forth in the frosted glass and the knob turned. Dr. Giordano stood tall. He was wearing black jeans, a lavender button-up shirt with his sleeves partly rolled up. One of his meaty hairy forearms was sticking out of one pocket and the other on the handle of his door gesturing Violet in. He wore a toothy genuine smile, his beard freshly trimmed. He was wearing Smartwool socks and stepped back gesturing her in.“Wow, Ms. Ivory,” his buttery voice spreading over her quite easily, “You look positively stunning!” Holy fuck! She owns clothes like this?“Thank you, Dr. Giordano. I hope I’m not putting you off.” Shit, I overdressed!“Please, call me Paolo. In my own home, titles have different meanings.” He gave her a wry smile.What does he mean by that? “Of course, Prof- Paolo… Mmmmm something smells. Dawn wasn't much of a conversationalist; she was a bit shy and naive and, truth be told, a little simple-minded.But there was nothing average about the way she looked though. Dawn Parker was hot! Especially for a mother of her age.She had long natural blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, a cute nose and full lips. Not to mention a banging rack. Dawn's breasts were large and firm, delicious and almost untouched by gravity. Dawn sometimes thought that they were too big. They gave her a sore back, and they bounced all over the place when she went running.And that happened quite a lot. Dawn took good care of her body and all that squatting, running, spinning and stepping kept her in pristine shape, with long shapely legs and a butt that was a bit big and well-rounded but beautiful and tight nevertheless.And she dressed sexy too. Dawn loved everything that was short, low cut, skin tight, skimpy, lacy and cute. She loved to tease, to turn heads and to get attention from men. Dawn didn't realize.
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Much to our wicked delight, Stefan’s flatmate was to be out of town for at least two days, so I spent the night at his place and, needless to say, we did very little sleeping. An indubitable hint of adolescent excitement filled the little room that evening and we shagged like rabbits, only stopping to rest now and again. Stefan was not as ostensibly handsome as Christian, but he was pretty in a boyish sort of way. As had been the case with Christian, I felt no desire to kiss him, though I suspected I might be swayed to behave more affectionately toward him once I’d got a few drinks in me. The next day being a Friday, we both had class in the morning and thus were limited to coffee, but I made a mental note of introducing alcohol into the equation when the next opportunity presented itself. Nevertheless, we managed to extract plenty of enjoyment out of one another, sober though we were, before giving over to sleep sometime around midnight. I dreamt of Katharina. Of making mad.

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