I've been chewing on my pen for nearly thirty minutes. It sways up and down, testifying to my profound boredom.
A sudden impulse of guilt drives me to take an anatomy-pathology class from the class above, to give me a taste of next year.
Grave mistake. Deep down, I've got something else in mind than looking at that cross-section of genitalia on the overhead projector. I'd rather play with the real thing.
My hand immediately goes to my knickers as the teacher loses interest in the back of the room.
Today's stealth challenge is more...technical. It's a much smaller amphitheater than for the first years. People know each other. They're concentrated. But this proximity gives ideas. My hormones have more say than my reason.
I look around at the closed faces of the students staring at the blackboard, frantically taking notes.
My gaze stops on a guy at the other end of my row. He seems to be over the moon. He stares nervously at his laptop every twenty seconds.
Rather tall, dark, curly hair, athletic. Hm. Not bad. I stare at him. For a long time. And the weight of my gaze finally catches his.
I give him a small smile, without letting go of his eyes, as if I'd planted a hook in his retina. All that remains is to inject my poison into his mind.
I raise my pencil to my lips, with another, even more ambiguous smile. I gently push the eraser into my mouth. My tongue sticks out just enough to titillate his imagination. I suck lightly on the pencil, hoping this little game will also make him hard as wood.
He wiggles his buttocks in his chair, moving forward on the desk as if to zoom in on my mouth, captivated by this funny act. My pupils drop to the seat next to me, followed by a little tilt of the head, inviting him to join me.
He hesitates. It's amazing how these guys can show off by talking about ass all the time and shit themselves as soon as a girl concretely offers to indulge their fantasies.
I pretend to lose interest, obviously disappointed. Without missing a beat, he takes off from his seat. Slowly and as discreetly as possible, he makes his way over to me. He pulls out the folding seat and settles in a little awkwardly.
- Hi, he murmurs, trying not to attract too much attention.
- Hi, I reply with a falsely disinterested air.
- I'm Adrien, what's your name?
- My name's not Adrien. You don't need to know. At the end of the course
I'll disappear and you'll never see me again.
My answer baffles him. He looks at me quizzically, trying to pierce the veil of mystery that surrounds my little staging.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye, still a naughty girl. I flick my criterium up and down to get him to look under the desk. My hand busies itself in my jeans. The lace bites into my bare tummy, provocative, revealed by my fly open all the way down.
