Silent Wees

We both attended a small college, in a small town, but we shared only one class. Wednesday and Thursday of every week, she was usually sitting next to me, or occasionally behind me.

There were roughly 15 students in that class. No seats were assigned, but it hadn't taken long for everyone to settle into preferred locations, which were generally maintained.

I always sat in the second seat from the back left corner. With four seats in front of me, it was a comfortable distance from the action. Perhaps she agreed. From what I could tell, she was about as anti-social as I was, although she was perhaps slightly moreso.

I rarely spoke, but I don't recall ever hearing her speak. If not for rare vocal throat clearing, I'd suspect she was unable to speak at all.

Early on, the professor called role, but I hadn't paid much attention to anyone's name. I remember only that she had raised her hand, instead of speaking. After a few weeks, role call stopped entirely. Kinda wish I'd paid more attention.

One thing I found fascinating about her was her largely neutral demeanor. She wasn't distinctly emotionally expressive, but you could see that she was aware and thinking, and I don't mean with furrowed eyebrows, or anything. It was subtler. Less by what she was doing, and more by what she wasn't doing. Not mindless. Stoic.

Her stoicism was made all the more intriguing by the fact that she was also quite attractive. To me, at least. She didn't wear makeup, but then I didn't think she needed to. I figured that lack of makeup, her apparent disregard for other people, the general lack of other people to regard, was a perfect storm for people leaving her alone, without thinking badly of her.

I mean, she was never rude to anyone. Circumstances may have occasionally provided someone a reason to engage, but she provided none, herself. That is, until a particular Thursday.

Depending on weather, she usually wore jeans, sweats or shorts of some kind. Nothing frumpy, but also not outlandishly fashionable. On this particular day, she wore a skirt. It was a mid-thigh-length pleated tartan. With her (only occasionally worn) combat-style boots and t-shirt, she had a slight subdued-anime-rocker-chick vibe, but maybe that was just how I saw it.

That's pretty much why I caught myself staring at her legs for an inappropriate amount of time. I was personally digging it. Slightly embarrassed, as I shook myself out of my trance, and looked at her face, to see if she noticed.

She had definitely noticed.

She had apparently been watching me stare at her legs, which was an initial "oh no" moment for me, but she still had that stoic face. She did not appear upset or flattered. She was simply observing, although I can't claim to know exactly what was going on in her mind.

I was, by no stretch of the imagination, someone inclined to initiate a casual conversation with anyone, but I was exceptionally curious about her. After class was over, as she walked toward the exit, I was inspired to catch up with her in the hall and say something. I had no clue what, but I scurried along, nonetheless..

"Hey", I casually called upon slowing.

She stopped walking, but paused a moment before turning around.

I still had no coherent thought to express, but I figured something would come to me during the first few aimless syllables.

To my surprise, and perhaps rescue, she moved her hand, with startling precision and grace, to press her index finger against my lips, silencing me. Remaining as stoic as ever, she looked into my eyes. A few heart beats later, she began backing up, her arm straightening, until she released then turned and casually walked away.

I stood there for about 30 seconds, dumbfounded, watching her eventually exit the building.

I was basically useless for the remaining classes. All I could think about, for more than 5 seconds, was what that might have meant.

I mean, she didn't ignore me. But she also didn't overtly reject me. At least I didn't think so.

She silenced me, before I could get an actual word out. What I intended to say was not important. And there was no additional restriction or signal, like shaking her head 'no'.

Given that, and the fact the she, herself, has never spoken, I drew the conclusion that whatever I might try to pursue with her, she wanted it to be done without speaking. And, although it was just an assumption, I figured it also applied to writing notes.

I had no idea what I was going to do, but, since our next class was six days away, I had plenty of time to think about it.

~

[six days later]

~

Yeah, that didn't work.

I started Wednesday morning in eager anticipation of class with her, even though I had not even an hallucination of a plan. I decided to just do business as usual, and if I happened to get inspired, then excellent. If not, then it's not like I won't have more days.

I entered the room, and immediately looked to her seat... which was empty. This was curious, because she has always been there before I arrived. A flickering series of possible disasters streamed through my mind, on my way to my own seat.

Not too long after sitting down, I became the subject of psychological whiplash, as she walked in. She didn't look at me, and I didn't want to stare at her as she went down the outer aisle, so I just stared at the front wall as I recovered.

She was in my peripheral, which she usually was, while we were seated, but then she disappeared. I heard her clothes brushing against the plastic, and the slight squeaking of the metal joints of the desk behind me.

It was not the first time she'd ever sat behind me, but the rare previous times were always because someone else had her seat. Why this time? And she didn't have exposed legs this time. Crap! Had my staring offended her after all? Shit!

If she was offended, then why would she sit technically closer, although out of sight? Actually, it would be an excellent opportunity to do something nefarious to me out of revenge. I decided to glance back for a status check.

She was reading the textbook lain open on the desk. Everything seemed normal. She was resting her forearms on the desk, below the book. Leaning forward to have her head generally over the pages. She wasn't trying to put distance between us.

There didn't seem to be anything wrong, but I still didn't understand the purpose. ... Unless it WAS to be closer.

Something was off about that possibility. The sudden I-just-wanna-be-near-you thing didn't seem to fit her. Something too... juvenile about it. Too emotionalistic.

I went the entire class not knowing what to do, so I did nothing. I treated it as a normal a day as I could. When the class ended, she got up and walked right by me, up the aisle and out the door.

She never brought a bag with her. I didn't presume to know why. I, on the other hand, carried every book I would need for the given day, so I always had to spend time packing things up.

I lifted the bag from the floor at my left, where it leaned against the back leg of the desk, unzipped it and pulled apart the flaps.

I immediately noticed something that I had not put there myself. Some kind of small, rolled up white cloth.

Curious, I held it halfway out of the bag and unrolled it. White. Apparently cotton. Holy shit, it's panties!

It felt like the thought wanted to burst out of eyes. I quickly pushed them back into the bag, and then scanned the room for witnesses. Finding none, I inspected the item further. That side was clearly the front, so I turned them around to discover the word "Wednesday" printed across the back.

It took me a moment to remember that the actual day was Wednesday. ... Wait.... Did she...? Was she not wearing underwear during class? Sitting behind me? And she's intentionally telling me so?

Somewhere, amidst my wide variety of emotions and general confusion, was a mental sigh of relief that she was definitely not offended by my staring at her legs. Perhaps quite the opposite, by the looks of things. Well, that was... encouraging, to say the least.

And then a new realization made an overdramatic entrance.

Oh, what the fuck now?

This was a new experience for me. I didn't have girlfriends in high school, or ever. Sure, there were a few girls that had shown possible interest, but they, ultimately, were not my type. I was not out there trying to hook up, and you may rest assured that I did not.

I was in foreign territory. Often imagined territory, to be sure, but still foreign.

I shoved the panties deep into the bag and carried on with the rest of my classes, as best I could, but I just wanted to get back home.

~

I stayed at a small, detached apartment behind a house within walking distance from the campus, which was nice, given that I had no vehicle.

Immediately in through the front door, and slightly to the right, was the living room. Behind the sofa was a kitchen area. If you turned left, instead of right, there was a small inset across from the kitchen. Not sure if it qualified as a hallway, as it was deep only enough to accommodate a bathroom door on the right side. At the end of the inset was the bedroom door.

Being a bit of a minimalist, the size was not really a problem, although the bed took up more space than it needed to. I just was not overjoyed by the fact that all the furnishings were antique.

The main house was built nearly a century ago, and the current owner decided to renovate. They also decided to turn the garage into an apartment, and to furnish it with stuff originally from the main house.

The apartment was a bizarre mixture of very new and very old, which was less than attractive, but it did make the price of rent just right.

~

I sat on the sofa, staring at the panties I was holding. ... I was holding her panties. ... Which she gave to me.

Numerous little realizations periodically interrupted my focus.

They were very clean. Suspiciously clean, in fact. I pressed the material to my nose and sniffed. No, I was not sniffing the crotch, and, yes, I did feel slightly creepy, but I got over it.

This was for science.

This was mostly for science.

They smelled new. Well, new-ish. There was a human quality to it, like they were bought yesterday, but worn only briefly. Presumedly only during the time before class.

Wait, was she late because she was taking them off before entering the classroom?

Focus. Okay, what is she saying, here? This obviously has a sexual element to it. She's at least interested.

They were seemingly bought special for communicating with me. And probably as a full pack of seven for an entire week, suggesting future relevance.

She wore them, but probably only from the morning until right before class. Not long enough to deeply infuse them with her scent, suggesting that she wanted me to be aware of her interest, but that she was not wanting to go too far with it.

It would likely be considered inappropriate and disrespectful for me to... enjoy them, at this particular stage.

Another question was whether or not there would be any verification. Did she want them back? Was this meant to be a two-way communication?

Was she going to retrieve them just as she had delivered them? I thought it best to plan for that eventuality.

~

On Thursday, I decided I would roll them up in a different way than she had, and I would put them in a slightly different location, inside my bag. I didn't want to risk giving the impression that I hadn't noticed them at all.

Upon entering the classroom, I checked to see if she was there, and where she was sitting. In the desk behind mine, just as I suspected she would.

My eyes were on her the entire walk to my desk. She never looked up from her reading. Taking my seat, I placed my bag in the usual location, where, I assumed... I hoped, that she would find them. During the entire class, half of my attention was on listening for any sounds she might make, however, I heard nothing of distinct importance.

She casually passed by, at the end of class, and after she was out of sight, I checked my bag. I don't know how she did it, but somehow she managed to unzip and zip it without me hearing it. The panties were gone, and I also didn't find anything new left for me.

I felt hollow at the thought of waiting another five days.

Over those days, I questioned my role in the, for lack of a better word, relationship. I didn't want to call it a game. That made it seem cheap, and I don't think she had any intention of teasing me.

Should I be taking an initiative? It felt rather one-sided, so far, but what could I really do?

Before any of this started, I just happened to see that she had a car, so there's no telling how far away she might live. I couldn't very well follow her.

Even if I thought asking around would be... within the rules, so to speak, I doubted anyone would actually know anything.

Me sneaking her a pair of my underwear would undoubtedly not send quite the same message.

It reminded me of a tennis match. She served, so I was just sending the ball back into her court.

So much for not calling it a game.

The point was that she took the lead, and if I tried anything unprovoked, then I would be disrupting progress. She apparently had a plan, and a pace, and I did not want to step all over that.

I felt a little less hollow with the self-assurance that my not taking the initiative was actually benefitting her, although, admittedly, there was still a tiny, lingering doubt.

~

The next Wednesday morning was chilly, so I wore a jacket, but a couple of hours into the day, it was too warm for it, so I had it draped over the back of my seat during class.

She had already taken the desk behind mine, so I suspected that she would be transferring me a new secret message.

My anticipation was palpable. Shifting in my seat, occasionally tapping my pen, generally just wanting the class to be over with, so I could check my bag, and when I was eventually able to, boy was I surprised. There was a whole lot of nothing new staring me right in the face.

What a disappoint- wait.

Still seated, I reached behind me and felt for my jacket pockets. Inside the left one, I felt a piece of cloth that I had not put there. It felt very much like another pair of panties, in fact.

I discretely moved them into my bag, to not risk anyone seeing them in the pocket during the rest of the day, and when I got home, I quickly took them out.

"Thursday"

Thursday? That was tomorrow. So, she would be wearing none from that morning to at least after class was over? That seemed... odd.

That would be practically a repetition of the last time, except I would know it's coming, and know while it's happening. Don't get me wrong. There is certainly something enticing about that, but it still seemed like a weak move. No... sophistication.

I sniffed the fabric. There was no faint bodily scent. I went ahead and sniffed the inside of the crotch, and as suspected, they smelled practically fresh out of the package.

This move stumped me. Was I overthinking it? I hated to think that I was giving her too much credit.

Well, there was no need to make assumptions, so I decided to let it go, and just wait to see what happened.

I rolled the panties differently, and put them back into the same pocket.

~

The next day, I discovered students waiting in the hallway, outside the classroom door. The light was off, and the door was locked.

Among the murmuring was a hypothesis that the professor was just late, so I stood out of the way to wait. We were also still absent my favorite fellow classmate.

After a couple of minutes of eavesdropping on the banter, I heard the two students nearest me begin talking about a movie that was apparently coming to the local theater, next Friday. I paid closer attention, as it began to sound like a good action movie.

I never watched TV, I didn't listen to radio, and I rarely ever went into town for anything more than shopping for groceries, so most news I saw was via social media, and none of that was local.

One of them noticed my interest, and asked if I was going to see it. I was not normally one to bother watching movies at theaters, but the local one was relatively cheap, and the movie did sound good, so I replied in the affirmative.

The abrupt sound of the far entrance door opening drew everyone's attention. The professor waved and briskly traversed the hall.

I was startled by something brushing against my left side. In a smooth motion, my formerly absent classmate reached her hand into my jacket pocket, retrieved her panties, slipped them into her own jacket pocket, and all without the slightest pause in her passing by me and other students, on her way to the nearby women's bathroom.

I don't know if my jaw actually dropped, but it wouldn't have surprised me if it had. For a moment, I wondered if she might be a skilled pickpocket.

My awe was interrupted by the realization that she had taken them back before class had started. That was something I had not anticipated. And if she went into the bathroom, then does that mean she's putting them on to wear during class? Or is she simply going to pee, or whatever?

The professor unlocked the door, and we all entered. I took my normal seat, and waited to see what she would do next.

She entered noticeably late, relative to everyone else. The time span was about enough to let her pee and wash her hands. Or to accommodate her potentially having a little difficulty getting the panties on over her boots.

She wore another skirt, that day. Not pleated, but still loose. She also turned down the far outside aisle, instead of the next one in that brings her to the seat behind me. She sat at her usual desk, next to mine. Where I was able to see her bare legs.

Fuck, I didn't know if she was wearing them or not. And maybe that was the goal. Again, I didn't want to make any assumptions, but if that was the goal, then god damn, that was a good move.

What would it mean, tho? Expect the unexpected? Don't take anything for granted?

Wait a minute. What would have happened if the professor had not been late? I would have already been seated before she entered. ... Maybe. How much of this was planned, and how much was an improvised contingency?

... Did she make the professor late?

My head was spinning so much that I barely stared at her legs at all, and I almost didn't hear the professor mention that next Wednesday's class was rescheduled for Monday.

That was bittersweet news. Kinda messed up some plans I had, but I would get to see her again sooner than usual.

~

The professor was late again, with no explanation offered, so I still had no clue as to whether or not she had a hand in it, but I quickly dismissed the unfounded idea.

The waiting students poured through the door way, as I hurried down the hall. I was also late.

She remained leaning against the wall, near the door, which charged my senses, as I approached. My heartbeat increased in anticipation of who knows what? My eyes were on and off her face every second that passed.

At about six feet away, she looked up at me. I felt a jolt inside. Possible outcomes flooded my mind.

At four feet, I noticed that she was not looking me in the eye.

At two feet, she pushed off the wall with her elbows and turned to position herself in front of me.

I almost flinched in my abrupt stop. Heart pounding. I stared at her eyes like a deer staring at the headlights of a speeding truck, completely unaware of what fate would befall me.

As stoic as ever, she raised her right hand to the side of my face. If the motion had not been so graceful, or had been at a higher speed, I may have flinched then as well.

Upon contact, my breathing halted. This was the first time she'd ever touched me. Part of me wanted to close my eyes, hold her hand there, and just soak in the sensation, but I managed to restrain myself.