Successful Weekdays of a Student

Spring could be felt even in the air—fresh, slightly damp, with a hint of warmth. It was around three o'clock, and the store was quiet. A young girl, Nastya, sat on a stool behind the counter, slowly swinging her leg. A yellow tank top hung loosely over her hips, completely covering her short denim shorts, which, after sitting for a long time, had ridden up higher than intended. Her thighs were exposed right to the edge. Because of this, it seemed as if she was sitting with nothing on underneath at all, though in reality everything was covered—but just barely.

The doorbell chimed. A guy entered confidently but with a slight tension in his face—a student, by the looks of him. He stepped up to the counter and gave a brief

nod.

— Hi.

— Hi, — Nastya replied, looking straight into his eyes.

— I need three black pens and two folders with fasteners, — he said.

— One hundred forty-five rubles.

He tapped his card against the terminal. *Beep*

Nastya caught his gaze, not looking away. Then, a little quieter than before, with a slight mockery in her voice, she asked:

— Want to touch?

He didn't answer right away, just looked—something lit up in his eyes. Then he slowly nodded.

Nastya moved closer, took his palm, and placed it on her chest over her tank top. He froze for a second, then began to stroke—awkwardly at first, but with each movement growing more confident. He felt the fabric offering slight resistance, how the living flesh beneath his fingers yielded softly, warm and firm.

Nastya closed her eyes and drew in a barely noticeable breath through pursed lips. She felt every movement—the stroking, how he squeezed a little, then ran his fingers over her nipple, and it quickly hardened. She lifted her tank top, exposing her breast completely, and he immediately touched her bare skin. His fingers slid slowly, lingering. He circled her nipples, sometimes giving them a light pinch, making her breathing quicken.

— That's enough, for today. — she said with a slight smile.

He didn't argue. Just nodded, took his purchases, and left.

Nastya sat back down, spread her legs, and looked at the door. She lowered her hand and began to masturbate, recalling the sensations she had just experienced.

Some students have very successful weekdays.