"And as you see here, this student has figured out a beautiful way to give an incorrect answer."
Amelia wasn't really paying attention to what her professor-Mrs. Devans-was saying at the moment. She was just telling everyone why they did stuff wrong instead of telling them how to do it right. Again. She did it so often, Amelia was starting to wonder if Mrs. Devans even told her husband how many times he screwed up in bed. "I honestly don't know how you could have made such a massive mistake, there are clearly only two holes in my pelvic area yet you have managed to cum in neither of them!"
A smile formed on Amelia's lips, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. She didn't want to think about Mrs. Devans in bed-she was attractive for her age of probably sixty in the face, but Amelia knew there was nothing but wrinkles under her neatly pressed dress suit-but the idea of her nagging her husband after sex like she did her students was funny. She'd have to tell her friends about it later.
There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of Amelia's eye, and she looked to her desk. Had her pencil just moved? Probably just her imagination, or her pencil found a breeze and had felt like rolling around. She shrugged it off and picked her pencil up to start doodling on her blank sheet of notes. There was movement again, but this time, with her shorts. About at her mid thigh, where the hem of her shorts were, she could have sworn they had lifted up, like someone had tugged on it. There were a couple seats between her and another student, and she hadn't felt a breeze...Must just be her mind playing tricks on her. The fabric was settling or something.
The next thing that happened, oh, she knew she hadn't imagined it. Amelia gasped softly as she felt the material of her panties move, under her shorts. It felt like a pair of fingers were pressing against the crotch of her panties. The fingers that were definitely NOT there-how could they be?-started to move back and forth, rubbing her sensitive flesh underneath her panties. She could feel a bit of liquid start to escape her lower lips. Despite how confused her mind was, her body wasn't going to complain about the sensation it was receiving.
The biggest problem in Amelia's mind wasn't just that she was being rubbed by an unseen force, it was that she hadn't had a release in a while. She was sensitive, and god did it feel good, and she had no idea how she was going to hide the wet patch that she knew would be big on her shorts if she ended up climaxing. Everyone would think she wet herself! An adult, in the middle of a history lecture, had wet herself without even asking to leave for the restroom.
The invisible fingers had kept up their movement, kept their steady back and forth pace. She glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes until the end of class? She actually might be able to hold herself for that long. After class was over, she could just go to the restroom before she came in her own pants. No one would know. She still didn't know where the hell the sensation was coming from, but at least she had one half of her problems solved.
