Marissa's silent battle with her professor continues...
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The professor's mind had been in a state of unrest, just waiting for the perfect moment all week, the day that Marissa would have to lead her first group presentation in his lecture.
The students had been split into groups and assigned a topic on the current pandemic, sitting through these presentations annoyed him to no end, but he had to stick through them. Thankfully for him, it was the last one and they would move on to something else. Something that didn't make his ears bleed every time he heard it. The only thing that he was excited for, however, was Marissa's own presentation. He was so entranced, that just for her, he would sit through the entire thing and give it all of his attention.
The class was a regular four-walled auditorium that had a projector screen set up at the front of it. Since the whiteboard was used to teach as well, the protector was the kind that had to be pulled down from the top so that it would cover the whiteboard for the duration that it was being used. Standing right in front of it was a long table that students were supposed to keep their presentation materials on. But to the professor, it was a nice little place for Marissa to sit down and face the class in her denim miniskirt.
His eyes met Marissa's at the back of the class and a small smile threatened to break through his lips. The class was rowdy with the murmurs of the students, he didn't bother to reprimand them, instead he kept his eyes on the side of Melissa's face, watching as her perfectly glossed lips moved rapidly in the conversation that she was having with her friend. He lowered his gaze, hoping that he could catch some part of her that she wasn't willing to show, but to no avail. The more he attempted to be a giraffe, the more suspicion it would bring up. He didn't need that, as being discreet was the most exciting part of the game. Instead, he pushed out a small breath from his nose and called on her group for their presentation.
Her head snapped up to face him, nervousness flashing in her innocent blue eyes for a quick second before she got up from her seat. She tugged at the hem of f her skirt as she walked down the step, her book bag slung over her shoulder in a manner that shielded her butt. It was almost as if she knew his intentions, the way she walked as if she attempted to hide her backside from him. He wiped a hand over his face to hide his smile.
Marissa turned to face him and sent her own nervous smile, before putting down her book bag and getting out the necessary things that she needed for her presentation.
He couldn't hide the smile that stretched the sides of his mouth as he watched Marissa slowly reach up to pull down the projector screen. She was stretched pretty high up on the tip of her toes as one of her hands tried to pull down on the projector screen. It proved to be a difficult task for the small tube top that covered her already stretched-out torso from being in a position as vulnerable as the one she was in. Little grunts left her mouth as she struggled to pull the screen down, doing very little hops on her feet so that she could reach. From his vantage point, he could observe the right side of her breast bounce with every slight movement she made. Her cleavage was exposed and her breasts nearly at risk of completely pouring out of her top.
The professor's eyes burned into the small bits of the exposed flesh that had already started to brim over the edge of her small tube top. With his eyes trained on her, he could spot even the slightest movement, which enabled him to catch what he thought was a snippet of her areola. Marissa was faster, however, her hand moved to tug on her tube top, returning it to a less compromising position.
Before he had the chance to count his loss, one of Marissa's group members turned off the lights, starting up the projector so that it came to life. Marissa shifted out of the way until she was at the side of the table to avoid being in the shot. While her team members set up, she looked back at the class nervously with a smile on her face. Her long legs were uncovered, but they were tightly shut as she stood there in her denim miniskirt, its short length only inching down the middle of her thighs. She was very mindful, only allowing herself to open her legs when she needed to stretch over and pick up her papers from where they sat in the middle of the table, immediately closing them tightly when she went back to her original standing position.
Having settled himself down on one of the seats in the front row, the professor had more of a chance to ogle at Marissa. In the darkened room, he had his phone on, pretending to be using it under the pretext of really just gluing his eyes to the girl's body. The tops of her breasts were still covered from the last time she had tugged up the tube top, but it had begun to slip down just a bit to expose the soft flesh again. Between the top and her skirt, sat the flesh of her stomach, and Marissa had started to pull the top down because of how embarrassed she felt, standing before the entire class in her barely-there tube top, but soon realized how terrible of an idea that it proved to be. Pulling it lower meant that her cleavage would be exposed as well.
Marissa stood at a place for the initial duration of the presentation, but her hands moved rather frequently as she pulled tenaciously at her clothes. It was like they played a game with the professor's eyes on how long he could stare at a body part before she got self conscious enough to cover it up with her hands.
The mind numbingly long presentation dragged on, and thirty minutes into it, Marissa turned her neck slightly to the side so that she could spare a glance over at some of her group members. They were all comfortably settled on the long table as they played their own part of the presentation, provoking a small pang of jealously in her chest. Being the only one on her feet made Marissa feel left out. She wanted to sit down too, as her knees had begun aching from standing for thirty long minutes. In the back of her mind she knew her thighs were bare and her skirt was too short to risk it. As the thought crossed her mind, her hand instinctively reached down to pull on the small garment.
After a bit of pondering, Marissa decided that she had an alternative solution to sitting. She leaned back on the table, placing only half of her butt on it in a faux sitting position. She attempted to indiscriminately place her hand over the front of her skirt, attempting to defend it while not wanting to bring too much attention to her steadily rising hemline.
