I never would have taken the art appreciation class if my friends hadn't convinced me that it was a snap. "Hey, it's Art in the Dark, man. All you do is watch a bunch of dumbass slides in a dark lecture hall." Cool, I thought.
I picked a seat in the last row. It was dark, farthest from the prof and closest to the door. The prof, an older woman in her late 40's, introduced herself as Professor Hornsby. "She looks it," I thought watching her in that cold gray business suit and librarian glasses. She gave out a study list of the slides before class. I figured I could use the class time to catch up on sleep then look up the pictures later in the library.
By the second class a girl started sitting next to me. Out of the whole auditorium, she has to sit next to me, the only person in the back row. All I wanted to do was get some Z's. At first I was pissed, but I soon got used to her there. We hardly ever talked except maybe to say hi. I never did find out her name.
During one class, my pencil rolled off the little flip up desk and landed on the floor in front of her. I leaned over to get it and had my face almost against her slightly opened knees. If it hadn't been so dark in there I probably could have had a nice view of her pussy. I found the pencil and when I sat back I looked over at her for some sort of sign, but she ignored me.
I started sitting with my legs apart, crowding into her space hoping she'd take the hint and move away a seat or two. When our knees touched, she never pulled away. I casually scratched my knee and let my hand rest on her leg. She pushed her leg against mine. At the risk of embarrassing myself, I boldly rested my hand on the inside of her knee. She didn't move away. I moved it up her bare leg until I was touching the softest parts of her inner thigh. She slid forward in the seat to give me better access up through the leg of her baggy shorts. My hand soon felt the warmth radiating from her pussy way before actually touching it. I ran my fingers over her panties feeling the soft mound underneath. They were already getting damp from my touch. I slid a finger under the leg band to feel her warm slick pussy.
I worked my finger the length of her slit, slowly and gently. She began to move against my hand. I looked at her pretty face, but she looked straight ahead at the screen, aglow with the image of some ancient Greek with a tiny fig-leaf pecker. She had little expression other than slightly closing her eyes as I would touch her clit.
It became a regular ritual. Every class I would find some excuse to touch her leg, work my way up and end up finger-fucking her to a quiet, almost imperceptible orgasm. Several times I took her hand and rested it on my bobbing, frustrated cock. She always pull her hand back, clearly not interested in it.
Sometimes I sat there thinking "Fuck you, bitch. If you aren't going to do me, then I'm not doing you anymore." That would last about 5 minutes and my hand would be worming its way towards her sweet warm pussy. She never refused me, but my dick would go untouched for another class. What the hell. I was having a good time. Later, I would go back to the dorm and jerk off furiously to relieve the tension. It was worth it. Once we had started this little game, we did it every class until the mid-term exam.
Which probably explains why I didn't do well on the mid-term. The easiest class in the whole college and I almost flunked the damn thing. I stared at all the slides as I fingered my little classmate's pussy, but I never heard one word the prof said. On the other hand, my little anonymous classmate was taking it all in and not just my fingers. She ended up with an A.
The prof spent one whole class reviewing all the slides that had been on the exam and going over the answers. I know I should have been writing them all down. Some of them would probably be on the final. Instead...well, I had my middle finger up to the second knuckle in pink delicious pussy.
"Mr. Jordan? Richard Jordan?" Professor Hornsby asked, looking around the large room. The little answering yelp was not mine but my seat mate's. Hearing my name, I instinctively pulled my hand free of the girl's wet panties. I got caught in the leg opening and gave her a painful pussy wedgie.
"Uh...here. I mean, yes?"
"See me after class, Mr. Jordan."
"What the hell does that old bat want?" I looked over at the girl, "Look, I'm sorry," I said shrugging. She responded only with a scowl, then gathered up her books and left without a word.
When the lights came up, I reluctantly walked down to the podium and introduced myself. Prof. Hornsby picked up her notes and motioned for me to follow her out the back door to the faculty offices. Walking behind her I realized that someone seeing her only from the back could mistake that small waist, firm ass and long red hair for a much younger woman. Especially someone who has been playing stink-finger for almost an hour with the blue balls and wood to prove it.
She unlocked her office door and motioned for me to go inside and sit. I flopped down on the dark leather couch that dominated her small office. I wondered why she was picking on me. Lots of other people had bombed the exam.
