Shit. Shit. Shit. My legs scrambled up the steps of the university building. Can't be late...can't be late. I reach my classroom in record time... head to my desk, and wait.
I picked my desk perfectly, directly in front of the podium-and that little walkway where she spends the majority of her time. My professor has been skipping her way through my fantasies the whole semester. Chloe Vanderbilt is gorgeous, with long legs, golden locks and crystal blue eyes, she looks like a goddess. The embodiment of Venus, all sensuality and grace, all semester I've watched her. Observed the way her hair falls over her eyes when she's deep in thought on her notes. The way her calves move as she struts from one side to the other in the middle of a lecture. The way her breasts always seem to be ready to burst out of her clothing, the way her lips look perfectly kissable. My body ached in response to hers. I always left class having to rush to the women's restroom to deal with the tizzy she left me in.
It was amazing the effect she had on me. The way my body responded without her laying so much as a touch on me, seemed as if she oozed this sexuality, this erotic response.
All semester I had been trying to get up the courage to make a move. The few times we had met to discuss class work...I would get close, breathe in her scent but never actually cross the barrier. I don't know if she felt the same way about me, but today I decided to test the waters.
My long brown hair was curled into soft waves, and I had chosen a soft green top to accent my hazel eyes. The skirt was short (as all of mine are) and the back seam thigh-hi's hugged my skin, my heels (cute little peep-toes) made my legs look fabulous. As she entered, I crossed my legs. Making it much more dramatic than necessary... She noticed. My heart did a little tap dance in my chest.
I spent the next hour feeling utterly horny. My body wishing to touch hers, my breathing becoming slightly labored... and after class, I approached her.
"I need to talk to you about the paper, do you have time?"
"Hmm, my office hours are full right now; can you come by say around 4?"
"Of course."
I quickly rushed out of the class; with three hours to kill I knew exactly what I was going to do first. The bathroom was quiet; no one was in here presently. I clicked the lock on the stall door in place. Leaning against the wall, my hands quickly reached under my skirt. I pressed my fingers against the fabric of my undies, finding them slightly wet. I slid one finger under the fabric, pressed it against the flesh.
I could feel the heat emanating from me. The smooth wetness welcomed my finger eagerly. I leaned back against the cold metal of the bathroom stall. I worked against the clit, pressing ever so roughly, and then switching back to the softness. I brought myself close, and then eased back. I imagined Chloe, her soft lips against my neck, teasing their way down to my nipples. I imagined her fingers entwined in my hair, pulling my lips to hers.
Then the restroom door opened. I froze. My hand stilled against the throbbing of my sex.
I could feel the orgasm pushing against my hand, it desperately wanted to come screaming out of me. I heard the stall door click shut next to me. I let out a deep breath and continued. The thought of someone near me had me dripping against my palm. The orgasm was even closer, and as my hand made hurried stokes against the clit. The sound of me furiously attacking my clit reverberated in my ears. There was no doubt in my mind that the girl next to me could hear my slutiness. My legs shook as I felt the orgasm getting nearer. I slowed, wondering what she was wondering. I let out a moan, soft, barely audible. Yet it garnered a response. I heard her take a sharp breath.
The exhibitionist in me took over. I sighed, and began stroking again, making sure to keep that nearing orgasm at bay. I wanted this to last. I hoped that my current state would lead to her wishing to take matters in her own hands. If she is anything like me, she can't resist wanting to touch when something of a sexual nature is around. I moaned a bit louder this time. I could hear her shifting in the stall. Her breathing was soft, as if not wanting to distract me from the task at hand. I pushed a finger inside, my pussy was hot. The flesh tight against the finger; I slid another one inside. Feeling the rush of juice against my knuckles. I began fucking myself with my fingers. The harder I pressed, the easier the moans came. I heard her breathing become faster. A slight moan escaping her lips.
I pressed against the clit, if I stroked it any harder, I would come. I just knew that I was that close. I wondered if she was doing the same, if her hands had found their way to her waist, and under her panties. My brain concocted a hazy image of the girl next to me, energetically stroking herself in progression with my hurried actions. I could see her thrusting against her own hand. It was then that I heard her moan soft, but loud enough to get my attention; it was followed by a wet stroking sound. I knew she was taking care to get closer. I began to breathe faster. The orgasm teasing against the edge, my clit had been stroked to the point where each touch held that hint of pleasure and pain. I slid more juices against my finger, pressing that one hand against the clit, entering another finger into myself. I was fucking myself frantically now, crashing to cross that line. The orgasm tore through me, and I couldn't stop myself from letting out frantic moans, I gushed against my hand, hot juices coating my knuckles and wrist. The girl was right behind me, her orgasm was much quieter, and she moaned soft sweet sounds.
I took the time to clean myself up, easing out of the stall and washing my hands. I knew she would want to be the last one to leave. I doubt she did this as often as I did.
I left the building with still 2 ½ hours to spare. I decided to make a call.
He answered on the first ring, always energetic to receive attention from me.
"I'm horny." (By this time there was no need for formalities.)
