Andrea was thought to be a very prestigious girl. She was intelligent, quick, smart, yet also sexy, and borderline slutty. She had black hair and almost always wore a maroon tube top and jeans. Anybody with an eye could see she didn't wear a bra, and she liked that. There was a sort of line that nobody dared cross; they were in a university, after all. She flirted with almost every guy in her biology class, and she'd been asked out several times; but after her recent breakup, she had decided not to date anyone for now. She wanted to try the single life for awhile.
It turned out that she wasn't quite enjoying the single life. Whereas before she'd receive a good cock in her pussy every now and then, now she had nothing at all. She became attracted easily, but only in a physical way. Mentally she found herself unprepared.
It turned out that one day Andrea found herself in science class as her teacher, Mr. Jenkins, made roll call. At the end of it, he exclaimed, "Alright, class, this is interesting. Almost a phenomenon: there is only one female in our class. How about that?"
"I guess that makes me lucky," Andrea said, smiling.
She even liked Mr. Jenkins. A little short, bald, muscular, and probably in his early thirties. But she was only twenty.
She knew this desperation would come over her from time to time, so she tried from the beginning to keep herself distanced, but it only made her hornier. By the time her biology teacher was giving his "only-female" announcement to the class, she felt like she would take any guy, drag him to a utility room, and fuck him until she fainted.
Oh, but her thoughts drifted. Maybe it was the nature of the class. One of those classic, ironic, cliché events: dreaming of dirty sex in a biology classroom. Yet here she was. She didn't take notes. She usually crossed her hands and listened, drifting into different dreams and imaginations. Today she only had one hand on the table, while the other, almost subconsciously, moved under the table. She knew it was strange, but she kept wanting, desiring, dying to rub her pussy.
"Ms. Bersteu," Mr. Jenkins said. "Are you alright? You were making moaning sounds."
Andrea awoke from her dream. She had moaned. Almost painfully. "Sorry, sir," she replied.
"Nothing bad, I hope," said Steve, a nearby student who looked kind of cute. Hell, at this rate she thought pretty much everyone in the class was cute.
"No no," she said. "I get pains once in awhile."
"Well we have been talking about cravings and pains," Mr. Jenkins noted. "I suppose we could all get them."
"I guess," she said. "Not like this," she mumbled under her breath.
"I'm sure we do. Understand, Ms. Bersteu, we're all friends here. Everything said here is confidential."
"No it isn't," she said.
"Well this time is an exception, right class?"
The entire class nodded. There was some strange sense in the air. Had her moaning and rubbing been so evident that everyone noticed? All ... (she counted) ... thirty-four students?
