Fuckonomics 101

Story by Lemniscate on SoFurry

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Happy April Fools!

For those wondering: Yes, this is the same Brittany from The Little Harem, though she's a bit more grown-up (and yet, still not).Note: This story is actually unfinished, did not have the time / wellness to fill in the middle. Maybe someday, but so far that hasn't happened for any story I say that for x.x;

Finished reading? Please consider giving me feedback. If you prefer a more guided approach, please respond to the following:

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"We'll go over this further next class," said the professor as he laid a transparency sheet on the projector, "but just bear in mind that supply and demand are inversely proportional to one another, and this point here," he circled it with the red marker, "is the equilibrium, and you'll have a ceiling, and a floor," he drew lines in blue and green on the top and bottom of the graph.

"But, I want to give back your tests, so," he shut the projector off with a clunk and whipped the transparency away. He went to the large briefcase he had lugged into class and snapped it open. "When I call your name up, come get your scantron."

Most of the students began packing their things away as the professor called their names.

"Megan Blanc," called the Canaan.

The Yorkshire Terrier set her pencil down, and walked down the aisle of the stadium seating to get her test. She looked at it as she walked back up the steps, her eyes widening with each step.

College had been a blast, so far. Plenty of parties, even if she didn't do much dancing and socializing. Lots of booze, even if she could any drink a little before feeling sick. Lots of cute boys, even if it looked like they all had a football for a brain or already had a girlfriend.

But she had just had her first round of tests, and had gotten the first results back.

This was Economics, 101. It was supposed to be easy. How did she get a fucking forty-two on this test!?

"Watch it," a slightly older boy muttered as he brushed past her to get down the aisle when his name was called.

She nudged past several students' knees to get back to her seat. It squeaked when she pushed it down to sit in it; she wouldn't pick this seat again.

She continued to stare at the scantron in disbelief. She checked the name and class number several times, just in case he'd gotten the wrong Megan Blanc... Surely there were more than one at this campus.

She used the paper she had just been doodling on to line up the bubbles. Did she accidentally skip one? Wouldn't be the first time, but then it was obvious. There was a point where she had a right answer, and then a slew of wrong ones; on this scantron, the red tics were spread out.

Commotion began rising as students got their test results and started leaving. She packed up all but the scantron, and continued to sit, intending to talk to the professor after he was finished. She looked at her watch; it was still before ten-thirty, and this was her last class of the day.

She thrummed her fingers on the pull-out desk. Three of her four claw-tips tapping upon the wood, her index-finger having been cracked for a few days.

"Would you stop?" Said a girl two rows below her, turning about to look up at her. "That's driving me nuts."

The class size was dwindling down, and some students were already hovering like flies around shit to talk to the Canaan. So, she pulled up her backpack, with sketchbook heavier than anything else, and made her way down the stairs.

There were six other students. What was annoying was that each one of didn't talk about the test, they just had general questions and what-ifs that took him at least five minutes to answer because of their follow-up questions.

Two students had arrived after her, but since they didn't wait in a queue and just crowded around the guy, they barged ahead of her in turn.

It didn't help she was a shorty. Not even in a disabled way, she was just half a foot shorter than most. If she stood in front of the professor and stared straight at him with her chin level, she'd be looking at his nipples.

She was actually surprised how young he was. He didn't look like he even hit thirty, yet. He always wore business-casual clothes. Today he had on somewhat tight-fitting black slacks that had a bit of a sheen to them, black loafers, and a yellow button-down tucked into his slacks that, now being close enough, she saw had thin, darker-yellow lines that blended well at a distance.

Finally, the last student, who really just chit-chatted which was starting to grate on her, bid farewell and headed up the steps.

He looked to her with a smile. "What can I help you with?"

He had said that to a few of the students, but when he said it to her she sort of heard it differently. Like it was nicer, or softer; not like he was dreading the conversation.

"Uhm... Mr. Doughenstein," she held up the scantron. "I think there's a mistake... I wasn't expecting... Uhm..."

The few ways she rehearsed saying it started to collide, now that she was in the spotlight.

"Let me see," he took the scantron. "Hm... I don't see any skips or double-marks," he mentioned, handing it back. "You've been keeping up with the exercises on the portal, right?"

"Um... Y-Yeah," she fibbed. "I mean, I've missed a couple, but I can do them any time, right?"

He nodded. "Sure, but," he started closing up the large case he had. "The goal is to do them as we go along, or even get a bit ahead to practice if you want. You can always redo it for a better grade."

He lifted up the handle of the case, and started to walk.

"Wh-What about the test?" She asked, walking behind him.

"Hm?" He asked, his smile still there.

"Is it... Possible to redo the test for a better grade?"

He took in a bit of a sigh, as if anticipating the question. "No, only the exercises in the portal can be redone. But, this was only the first test," he told her, optimistically. "It's not the end of the world."

She let out a soft whimper.

He paused, opening the door to let her through.

"Is there... Any extra credit I can do?" She asked, as they went out into the hallway, where passers by were busy on the way to their next class, to get food, or hurry back to their dorms.

The Canaan chuckled. "Tell you what, if you're that concerned," he said, looking at his watch. "Why don't you come by my office around nine o'clock tonight." He smiled down at her, setting his hand on her shoulder. "We can take a good look at where you're at so far, and talk about some opportunities you might have to make you more successful going forward. Okay?"

"Um..." She thought for a second, working through an internal struggle. "S-Sure, I can do that. Um... You said... Nine?"

"Mhmm," he nodded. "If that's all right with you?"

"Y-Yeah, no problem," she said with a bit of a bounce. "Thank you, Mr. Doughenstein, sorry for the trouble."

He brushed his hand in a dismissive gesture. "S'okay, I'll see you tonight, then. Have a good day."

"You, too," she bid, watching him walk away. Her stubby tail wiggled a bit, then faltered. She crammed the scantron into her backpack, and merged with the flow of the hallway, heading to the mess hall.

She liked to take the outdoor route, passing through the courtyard. It was just the right amount of bustle but with open space to breathe, and she liked to be outside.

There was a group playing Frisbee that she tried not to cross the paths of. An artist like herself had taken a spot in a small nook and set up an easel to paint a scene he was witnessing. An older-looking lion had fallen asleep on a bench, his cap covering his eyes and his backpack as his pillow.

The line in the mess-hall was dauntingly long. If she hadn't talked to the professor she might have been able to get a decent spot. With a sigh, she went to the case of grab'n'go items, and swiped her ID card. It beeped, and unlocked. She snagged a salad, and headed off to her dorm.

Living on campus was intimidating at first, but the liberating freedom quickly made up for that. Although, even without her mother barking at her to do this chore and do that chore, she wound up being the grunt roommate.

She had started off the semester with three other roommates. One dropped out right away, so then it was just two others. One of the remaining two was older, and a grad student, so she spent a lot of time working and studying.

That left... Her other roommate.

She opened the door, letting in the bursts of loud bass music from down the hall. It continued to vibrate the floor even when the door was shut again.

"Hey, Megan," the vixen said, craning her neck this way and that as the Yorkshire Terrier passed behind her head, which rested on the arm of the couch.

"Hey, Brit," the canine said, setting her salad on the table and tossing her backpack into her room.

"You look stressed," the vixen observed as her roommate sat at the table and popped open the lid of her salad.

Megan tried not to look at her roommate. Not because she disliked the vixen, but just because she felt awkward looking at the girlthat was wont to recline on the couch wearing only her panties. "Just hungry," she said, grabbing one of the plastic forks in the cup in the center of the table.

Brittany had gotten the plastic utensils since Megan didn't always have time to wash the actual silverware. At least she did something to compensate for her lack of upkeep.

The vixen set her laptop on the ottoman and stretched. Her ample breasts gently jiggled with the motions, her nipples pert and pink against the creamy white. She stood, and made her way over to the fridge. She grabbed a slice of pizza, and sat in the chair catty-corner to the Terrier. "How'd your 'nomics test go?" She asked, biting into the stiff, chilled slice, her breasts resting on the table.

Megan blushed. This was the most difficult thing to get used to. No doubt Brittany was watching porn and touching herself before she had walked in. "I... Got, like, a forty."

"Oh, damn," she giggled. "That sucks, sorry."

She nibbled the carrots in her salad. "I might skip a few nights from the rec center."

"Aww, c'mon," she gently batted the Terrier with her knuckle. "Don't worry so much. I bomb tests all the time; it's all about," she sat upright, and traced a finger down her left breast, "the curve," she said sultrily.

A pepperoni then fell onto her cleavage.

The Terrier couldn't help but snort and giggle.

The vixen did as well, plucking the slice off of her chest and popping it into her muzzle.

"Well..." Megan said, after calming down from her laughter, which also helped her to relax a bit. "I definitely won't be able to go tonight.'

"Aww, but tonight's Family Feud," the vixen said with disappointment. "Even Courtney's coming, finally," she said, gesturing to the door of their third wheel that mostly came to sleep and shower.

"I know, but, when I talked about my test to the prof, he told me to meet him in his office at nine, tonight."

"Rrrh?" The vixen grunted with a questioning inflection, cocking her head. "You sure he said nine tonight, not tomorrow morning?"

Megan nodded.

"Hm..." The vixen chewed her bite. "What... Exactly... Did he say?" She asked, with a peculiar inflection.

"What do you mean?" The Terrier asked.

"Like... Can you tell me what he said, exactly? He just said come by at nine tonight?"

"Uh..." Megan thought, spearing a cube of ham with a plastic tine. "He said, like... We'd talk about where I was at and some things I can do to help bring up my grade." When she took her next bite, she saw Brittany looking at her from the side, with a big grin on her muzzle. "Hmm?" She asked, squinting an eye.

"Whatchya gonna wear?" Brittany asked.

The Terrier squinted her other eye. "What... I'm wearing now?" She replied, confused. "What do you mean?"

The vixen giggled, setting her crust on the table. "Megan, sweetheart," the vixen rested her hand on her roommate's. "I know it's your first month here, so I'll be straight with you. What do you think's gonna happen tonight?"

The Terrier blinked. "...We're gonna go over my test and he'll give me some extra assignments," she stated.

"You sweet girl, don't ever change," the vixen said in a slightly condescending tone. "He's gonna go over your tits, not your test, and the only thing extra you're getting will be long and thick--hopefully."

Megan let her fork drop. "Brit, why's everything gotta be like that with you?" She said, grimacing. "Your dirty jokes are really getting kinda old."

"Dirty jokes never get old," she retorted, a bit defensively. "Besides... I'm being totes sers right now."

"No, you're reading into it. Not everyone has a dirty mind like you."

"Megan, c'mon," the vixen said in a calming way. "I've been where you are right now," she told her roommate.

"You have not," the Terrier rejected, stabbing her lettuce and taking another bite.

"Riddle me this: How often do you see me studying?"

Megan let out a single puff of a chuckle from her nose before swallowing her bite. "Never," she answered.

"Yup," the vixen smiled. "But I have a three-point-one. How do you think that is?" She asked, slightly lifting up such that her breasts lifted and then rested more prominently on her folded arms resting on the table.

"You're full of it," the Terrier scoffed. "Even if you did, when? You're always partying or some shit."

"I skip class, sometimes," she said, resting her hand on her cheek with a smile. "Plus, the night is long."

"So, what, you expect me to believe you've fucked all your professors, including the women?"

"Hell no, girl," the vixen said with a wince. "It's not about fucking the professors... Although, with you, there's definitely a good opportunity." She lifted her crust back up. "Nah, I get with the TAs. They're the ones that do all the grading." She bit into it, and then spoke with her mouth full. "Plus, some of them have answer keys for... Important events, if you know what I mean."

"You aren't serious," Megan shook her head, her floppy ears trailing with the twist. "You get looks and comments, I'll give you that, but no way that happens."

Abruptly Brittany dropped the remaining bit of crust and stood up, the chair scraping the wooden floor with a toot.

The Terrier flinched with the departure, watching as the vixen went to the couch. "Hey... I didn't mean to..."

The vixen's tail was puffed and a little swishy, her cheeks peeking out from behind, clad in pink lace. She snatched up her laptop, and approached the table once more, practically slamming it down.

She sat sideways in her chair as she ticked away at the keyboard and the pink pad of her finger brushed over the touchpad. The button clicked as she tapped it with her thumb, and then she used both hands to turn the laptop screen to her roommate.

Megan looked at the screen as a circle looped a couple times, and then a video began to play.

Her roommate was on the screen, which was blurry and turbulent with lots of motion, mostly blocked by a dark smudge covering the lens. But then, it was stable, and the vixen looked at the Terrier both in the video and in real life.

There was a thump, and the Brittany in the video sharply looked left. Her hair had been braided into pigtails. She very quickly dashed away from the camera, and in doing so revealed the rest of the frame.

She was in a dorm bedroom, and she went to the bed. She was still bouncing from her sit when the squeak of the door opened on the right of the frame. Party music spilled into the room, as a lion entered into the view of the camera.

The music went quiet when he shut the door. There was a click as it was locked.

"Holy..." Megan said, when she saw the lion. "Is that... Caleb!?"

"No one's gonna bother us," the lion said in the video.

"Yup. The one and the same," Brittany said, while she giggled in the video.

Megan watched with wide eyes as her history TA shucked off his shirt and pants, revealing a pair of silk boxers.

Brittany, in the video, was already dressed down to her her underwear: black lace with little pink bows on the panties and in between the bra cups.

"Let me, handsome," the vixen offered, as her hands jumped to the lion's waistband. She tugged the boxers down, gasping as his cock, which had already been tenting them, was freed.

It was large, and had barbs all along the top.

"Ooo," she cooed, supporting the lion's masculinity in one hand while she traced the top with the forefinger of the other. "I've never felt these before."

The lion purred. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

"Silly," she giggled, wrapping her hand around him. "Don't be gentle," she said.

His purr turned to a growl as he grinned, his hands going for her.

She put up a complete act.

"Oh? What are you doing? Oh my, you want me naked?"

"Hell yeah, lemme see that sexy body of yours," he said, voice rumbling as he slid the straps of her bra off her shoulder.

Her hand went up to the clasp hidden by the bow, and the cups fell away amidst her letting out a sigh, a bit of a moan dissolved into it.

His hands went for her chest, squeezing and kneading.

"Oh... How do you like them?" She asked, daintily resting her hands on her shoulders and giving him an innocent, cutesy gaze.

In response, his muzzle dipped, and he latched onto the left one, giving her a good suckling. After a moment, he popped off. "That the answer you were looking for?"

She pulled her hands behind her back, shimmying her shoulders. "Do the other one, now?" She requested.

He pushed her down, latching on. His suckles were picked up as soft claps or quick squeaks.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, wrapped her arms around his head, and then let out a loud and passionate moan. "You're making me so wet, you jerk," she pouted.

He slipped off of her tit with another emphatic pop, but right away began kissing the swell. He backed up, kissing all down her body, before arriving between her legs. "You underwear's a mess," he told her.

"Your fault. If they're ruined then you have to get me new ones."

"Wouldn't be ruined if you were wearing crotchless," he retorted.

"I'll wear whatever you buy me," she responded.

For a second, he genuinely raised up. "You... Real?"

She sat upright, and rested her hand on his thigh.

"Ow!" He jerked. "What'd you do that for?"

"You asked if I was real; so I pinched you to prove it," she said, tugging the waistband of her panties and sliding them off. "Don't gimme that look. I'll make up for it, I promise," she said with a smile, as the panties dropped out of frame.

She pushed up to sit back, and got on her hands and knees on the bed. His rod stuck up, and she took it into her mouth.

"Mmmmh!" He spread his knees and leaned back, then gasped and looked at her to watch the sight.

She worked him with a practiced experience, bobbing and suckling, her thumb and forefinger wrapping about his base to squeeze and nudge up and down.

After a moment of heavy breathing, and once his legs settled from twitching, he sat up. While she sucked him, his hands reached forward, grasping her buttocks. She scooted her knees closer to aide his reach, and his fingers sought her.

For several moments there were quiet slurps and moans.

Brittany fought her urge to make any noise or motion as she watched her roommate gawk at the porno.

"S-Stop," the lion mumbled, holding the vixen's muzzle.

She let him go with a slurp, and stole a quick kiss before she started to move. She turned on the bed, so that her rump was facing the camera, and then squatted down on hands and knees again. Her tail lifted. "This is how little doggies like me tell handsome dicks we're ready for you," she said, wiggling her displayed privates at the camera.

"You want it like that, huh?" He said, his voice more excited than sultry. He got behind her, and she tilted her rump upward. "Hey, I kinda like it when she lines me up, y'konw?" He muttered.

She giggled. "Sure thing, silly boy," she said, her hand reaching back. She found his meat, and started to line it up with her pink entrance.

"Little higher," he said.

"Oh, my... You want me there?" She asked amidst a breath, shimmying her tush. "But... That's so dirty," she remarked, her voice sounding not the faintest bit opposed.

"You like it dirty," he growled.

In response, she pushed his tip from resting against her vulva, to resting against her pucker. "Okay... You're lined up, handsome."

"I'm gonna count to three, ready?"

She started panting. "I-I-I think so," she told him.

"One..."

"Ah!" She moaned, as his tip pushed into her, disappearing into her tailhole.

He let out a moan, and shuddered, his sac resting against her vulva and his own tail puffing and raising. His pink pucker showed to the camera.

"That... Wasn't... Very... Nice," she panted.

There were a few kissing sounds. "How do I feel?"

"Mmmh..." Their join moved as she rolled her hips and shimmied a little. "It feels... So... Gooood!" She moaned.

"Ready for me to fuck you?"

"Yuhs, daddy!"

He growled, shifting to sturdy his positioning. Then, he drew back, and she let out a whimper.

"Oooooh those... Those... Fuuuuuh" Her rump bobbed and wiggled as he pushed in, and drew back out.

Right away he went into a steady rhythm, their motions going circular as their rumps dipped down with his thrusts, and raised up with his draws. She began panting and whining, letting out little yips when he hastened his speed.

"You're really squeezing tight, baby."

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh," she repeated, each one getting a little higher and raspier. "Daddy--Daddy-Daddy! I'm gonna cum! Oh gosh, daddy I'm gonna cum! D-Daddy--"

"Cum for me baby," he told her, and bit down on her ear.

She let out a moan, and her buttcheeks flexed as she rhythmically squeezed.

"I faked it," the real Brittany whispered.

Megan sat up with a gasp, like she had just jolted awake from a deep sleep. Then, she looked back at the screen as the lion roared.

"His wasn't," the vixen added, as the lion on screen was nearly balls-deep in her ass, spilling his pride into her colon. "My butt still itches from his barbs, it's really annoying," she remarked, closing her laptop. "So, now do you believe me?"

The Terrier swallowed.

"You're so cute. Did that get you all bothered?"

"N-No way," Megan shook her head, ears following the motions.

"Then why is your face all red?" The vixen teased.

"Why the hell are you taking videos of that shit?" The Terrier countered.

"In case they don't follow through with their promises, duh," the vixen replied.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Only if they try to be greedy." She replied, picking her laptop back up. "Be right back, I'm gonna get dressed."

"What's the occasion?" Megan teased. "You don't get dressed this early."

"Why, my dear," the vixen said, in an exaggeratedly posh manner as she threw open her bedroom door, "the occasion is that I am going to take you shopping."

"...For what?" She asked, her ears pulling back with nervousness.

Behind her, there was a wolf-whistle from a car that rolled by. Her shoulders raised up, and she nervously moved toward the support column that braced the lee over her head.

"Psh. C'mon, Megan." Brittany teased, grabbing the Terrier's hand and pulling her up to the door of the lingerie store. It opened with a soft hum, a gust of wind blowing the vixen's light sundress.

"Hooomygod," Megan muttered under her breath. "If someone sees me here that knows me--"

"Calm down, you're twenty, you're allowed to be here," Brittany said, lightly smacking her on the back. "Now let's get to it. Might take a while to find out what looks best on you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She said a defensive hush.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said patiently, primping her roommate's ears. "I only meant that there's a variety of things to look through and try on."

"Hello," a minkette said as she approached the two newcomers. "Can I help you ladies with anything today?"

"Not at the moment, thank you," the vixen replied, more formally than the Terrier had ever see her speak. "We're just gonna peruse and try some things on."

"Sure," the minkette nodded with a flick of her tail. "If you need anything my name is Deborah. I can do any fitting or I'm happy to make suggestions."

"Thank you," the vixen said, and then nudged her roommate.

"Uh... Th-Thanks," she said, holding herself nervously.

"It's her first time," the vixen whispered, smiling at the Terrier when she heard her roommate let out a soft whimper. "C'mon, let's get started."

They started off browsing a bit.

Megan looked at the mannequins as they passed. They sported fancy, lacy bras and panties.

"Ooo, look at this one," Brittany commented, as they spotted a mannequin wearing a blue, silk bra. She groped it openly, her hand squeezing. "It's soft and slick to the touch, try it."

Megan chuckled nervously, but lifted her hand, and touched her fingers over it. She felt how smooth it was, her fingerpad sliding over it like water. "Y-Yeah, it does feel kinda nice."

"Tsch, c'mon, you barely touched it," the vixen remarked, taking her roommate's hand and planting it firmly on the breast, helping her to squeeze it.

"Gh!" She flinched. "It... Squishy...." She spoke.

"Ugg, yes, it squishy, big squeeze," the vixen grunted like a prehistoric. She giggled when the Terrier slipped her hand free. "They put fake breasts in them to give you a realistic feel, silly," she explained, pulling the bra cup down to show. "How else are you supposed to get an idea of how yours would feel to the person you're showing off to?"

"Does it... Is that a nipple?" The Tarrier questioned, peering closer at the fake breast. Then, she saw another woman out of the corner of her eye, and realized she was gawking at this mannequin's boob. She righted up.

Brittany stifled her laughter, which turned it into snorts. "It's just a spot or something," she said, setting the bra back into place.

"I wanna get back home--"

"No c'mon, wait," the vixen pleaded, holding onto her roommate's wrist to keep her from turning. "We can't walk out without getting something sexy for you to wear. Let's look around, just a bit?"

Megan's ears lifted up in agitation, but then flopped back down. "Fine."

They did a quick pass through the shop. Brittany would pause every now and again to look more closely at some underwear or gowns. She spent a bit of time looking at the robes; it as going to be winter soon, and she remarked she always thought about getting one but then would forget.

Megan looked at the variety of lingerie, but always had an eye glancing over her shoulder. She was deathly afraid of someone she knew seeing her there. The last thing she needed was a familiar face that might tell her strict parents her whereabouts.

"So... See anything you like?" The vixen asked, after they had gone from one corner to the other.

"Um... I-I dunno," she said with a shrug.

Brittany shook her head with a smile. "All right, I thought so. I'll help you outta your little shell," she offered, once again primping her roommate's ear. "Let Mistress Brittany sex you up so the Money Doctor can sex you down."

"Would you stop," Megan huffed amidst the vixen's giggles. "You're nuts."

"You're still following me," she pointed out, her tail swishing as she glanced back in her stride toward a guided destination. "So... Let's see... I'm thinking, with your dark-brown fur, mint-green would look good," she said aloud, as they arrived at the gowns.

Megan once again looked at the mannequin that modeled one of the gowns. It was a red, sheer babydoll with ice-blue colored poms hanging down from the collar, and on the sleeves.

But, Brittany seemed to have an eye for something more modest. She plucked out a mint-green gown that was sheer, but was all-covering. It had white lace about the hem and over the breasts that partly-occluded what they would cover. The lace was patterned like leaves.

"Plus, as a money-guy, he probably likes green. Bet it's his favorite color." She held the gown between them on the hanger. "So, what do you think? Like it?"

"I dunno," the Terrier shrugged.

"Megan," Brittany said with a silly inflection. "This isn't gonna be fun if you're full of 'I dunnos.' Work with me."

"I've never shopped for this kinda stuff, before," she countered. "Whatchya want from me?"

"It's no different from any other clothes-shopping," Brittany said, holding it up against the Terrier. "Looks to be a good size," she observed, bouncing it and tugging at the edges to make sure it was even.

"Guess I'll get it... I can always return it, right?"

"You can," the vixen nodded, releasing the hangar as her roommate took it. "But, like I said, just like any other clothes-shopping. You wanna try it on, don't you?"

The Terrier let out a grunt of surprise. "R-Right now?" She asked.

"Not yet," Brittany said with a wave. "First, we gotta pick out some underwear for you to try on with it. C'mon," she took the canine's hand and briskly walked toward the underwear section of the store.

Megan tried to hand the negligee as best she could when they crossed into the open pathways. She pressed it to herself when it tried to flutter up with how light and fragile it appeared.

They arrived at the slew of underwear options that took up at least half the store. "Let's see... What do you think?" The vixen asked her roommate.

She let out a timid whimper.

"Lemme guess, y'dunno?" She said with a smirk. "Okay, then I'll just have to take the reigns." She shrugged. "You've got a nice lacy, sheer, negligee. Let's compliment it with something solid and plain, otherwise the laces will clash and look weird," she mumbled, stepping down the garments on display. "Ooo, I like this," she reached out, putting a fingerpad on a set of deep-purple bra and panties, that had ribbons hanging from the hips and between the cups.

"Hm... but I think the dark color would clash with the light." She tapped the picture with thought. "You've got a nice spring-theme you'd be missing out on. So maybe a pink or..." She looked and cringed.

Megan saw her spotting a soft-toned yellow set.

"Nah, not yellow, maybe just good ol' fashioned pink." She whiskered her hand to beckon her roommate to follow.

"Do I hafta wear pink?" She grumbled.

Brittany paused.

She paused in turn, and her shoulders pinched. "I mean, if you think it's best."

The vixen smiled, giving Megan a side-hug. "You're actually giving me opinions, we've made good progress. Okay, so if pink's off the table, what would you prefer?"

"Um... M-Maybe red?" She decided, tentatively.

"Ooooo, yeah yeah!" The vixen said with a hushed excitement. "Oh my gosh, yes, let's find--" She interrupted herself, snagging her roommate's wrist. "C'mon."

She let out a tiny yip as she was tugged so excitedly.

They arrived at a section with particularly sensual wear, much of it dark-colored. "I saw it a week ago, I think it's here..." The vixen said as she scampered from aisle to aisle like a little girl in the Toys R' Us doll section.

Then, she stopped.

"Here!" She whispered with excitement, leading Megan down the aisle. She stopped at the underwear that she had in mind.

The Terrier gazed at the garments.

They were a deep, dark red. It was a bra, panties, stockings, and garter-belt set. However, the panties were crotchless, and the bra was open-tip.

Megan blushed as Brittany unhooked one set from the hanger. "What the heck is that?"

"Something that will make you look like a sexy little rose in a verdant garden," the vixen said, whimsically.

"What's with... The holes?" Megan questioned, using her finger to slip in between the flaps of the bra cup.

"To give the man what he wants, but still cover up a bit," Brittany explained. "This is the kind of getup that really gets 'em up, kno'wh'm'say'n?" She minced, shaking the hanger to make the garments dance. "Let's see... Just gotta find stuff that's the right size."

She removed the bra-hangar from the set and found one from the extras nearby. "This one should do."

"How d'you know?" The Terrier questioned with a bit of concern.

"Cuz, I've gotten one of your bras mixed up in my dresser before," she replied. "Don't worry, I gave it back, but I thought huh, this doesn't fit right."

Megan held an arm across her smaller swells.

The vixen tilted her head sympathetically. "It's not about the size," she told her roommate. "It's all about the accentuation. This," she held up the bra, "will accentuate you very nicely. Ready to try it on?"

Megan blushed. "Do... Do I have to?"

"Just like clothes-shopping," Brittany reminded. "Let's go, it'll be quick. You don't have to try the whole thing on, just make sure the bra's good, the panties aren't gonna fall off, and we can always exchange the belt--but maybe don't use it tonight."

* * *

Megan's sandals tapped upon the tile floor.

It was almost haunting. The hallways were mostly empty on the fifth floor where the offices were. Several hallways were also darkened, only lighting up when she passed by a sensor.

She turned the corner into the small off-shoot hallway, just as she heard a soft jingling of keys. There he was, maybe just arriving at his office.

"Oh, hello," he said, just as he turned and spotted her.

"Hey, prof," Megan greeted, holding her hand up in a wave. "Um..."

He turned back to the door. "I forgot my notebook in my last class," he told her, sticking the key back into his door. "You can wait here while I go grab it," he told her, opening the door back up with a slight creak.

"Thank you," she said, approaching him and smiling as she dipped into the room. It was cozy and square, with a computer in one corner, a book case with binders and textbooks on it, and a small table in the middle of the room.

The door squeaked shut behind her as he departed, telling her again he'd be right back.

The computer clicked away as it thought about things. A paper curled up from the desk-fan that gently blew. It had a soft ticking to it, like the blades were slightly off-kilter.

The black nameplate rested small circular table in the middle of the room. The beveled gold lettering caught the light: Rich N. Doughenstein

She set her backpack down, and looked back at the door.

It was sort of a privacy door. Though it had glass, the glass was covered in a fine black mesh that obscured the other side, letting only light through if looked at straight-on.

She started to feel her heart race.

Was she really going to try and do this?

This was nuts; this wasn't some porno!"

She recalled the video she had seen of Brittany with the TA. That was real as real could get.

She unzipped her backpack, and pulled out the garments.

Off went her gym shorts, tee, and sports bra. With heavy breaths, she fumbled with the lingerie, trying to figure out its orientation. There were too many holes in the crotchless panties, which ones were for her legs!?

She shivered. It was rather cold on this floor, and having her bits exposed didn't help. Her coffee-colored nipples jutted from the open-tip bra, which she quickly tried to adjust to get it to fit right. She gave up after a few moments, the left side falling a bit slack.

If it wasn't for the chill she would probably be sweating.

Last, but not least, she found the hem of the gown and draped it over herself. But, somehow, she had gotten it backwords. Grunting, she wriggled inside of it to move it around her, and slipped her arms out the right holes.

She looked down at herself.

There she was, dressed to the nines like a slut.

Oh boy if her daddy saw her, now.

She stiltedly walked to the door. Every step made the hem of the negligee ride up and expose her crotch, left bare from the void in the panties.

She flicked the light off.

Even more cautiously, she walked back toward the computer, guided by the dim blue light from the desktop. She grunted when she bumped into the small table, and negotiated around it. She gasped when the draft of the little desk fan blew against her, tickling over the thin, bared fur behind the lace.

She sat in the chair. It was scratchy and coarse to her hind and legs, only barely comfortable to her back from what little coverage the negligee gave her.

Hearing her heart in her ears, she imagined the door opening.

"Huh, why's the light off?"

Holy shit!

The lights flicked on.

It wasn't her imagination.

She sat in his computer chair, the negligee slipped up past her hips to expose her bottom, and in her flinch a shoulder-strap fell and showed off her nipple.

"H-Hey, Rich," she said, raising the hand of the nipple that was now feeling the breeze of his fan to her ear to smooth her hair--and her nerves. "S-So wh-what extra opportunities d-did you have in mind for me to bring up my grade?" She asked, her breathy voice sounded like she was about to pass out, instead of the sultry tone she tried to spark it with.

The Canaan's notebook fell to the floor. "Um... What was your name, again?" he asked,

"M-My name? Uh..." She looked about, and then blurted out: "Brittany."

"Brittany," he took in a deep breath. "Okay. I need you... To get dressed... Leave my office... And drop my class."

The Terrier's ears pulled back. "I-I... b-But... N-No one's here... And it's late... And you... And my roommate..."

"I dunno what you got in your head," he said, covering his eyes, "why the hell did this have to happen to me?"

"S-So... You... You don't want to... Fuck me?"

The professor threw up his hands and lifted the heel of his right foot, toe of his shoe pressing downward.

"Bitch, I'm gay!"