This story follows the 'Watching You Watching Me' series of stories and it is recommended that you read them first for background and references. Please note, all characters are over the age of 18, are healthy and disease free, and live in that blissful, alternate reality in which personal birth control choices are freely and readily available.
The first weeks away from home at university were hard -- and not in a fun, sexual way but in a rough and distressing emotional way. I missed EVERYONE! I was able to face time chat and even, occasionally, play with Mr. R, even more rarely with Ali or Matt. My parents hadn't become tech savy enough for virtual visits yet although I knew that, by the time Matt was away at college too, they'd have to be. It wasn't nearly enough though. I was used to regular sex and I wasn't getting any.
I masturbated, as quietly as possible and as frequently as I was able, but I wasn't sure enough of my roommate's sexual orientation and preferences to risk rubbing one out in front of her...yet anyway. Getting thrown out of the dorms this early in my first year would have been really hard for my folks to swallow, despite their awareness of what a slut I can be. I had an even worse time trying to keep my milk flowing. I needed to be milked or suckled regularly and finding time between classes was a challenge some days. I had to find a way though or risk the very real possibility of outing myself with a major breast milk leak when they engorged and overflowed.
Finally, I was alone, without Mr. R's immediate protection and encouragement and finding ways to publicly display myself scared me a little. I was far from home and didn't want to get picked up by the local police on some sort of public lewdness charge. The danger of that, DID make it riskier and more exciting, true -- but there was no one to keep watch for me, keeping me relatively safe from police or worse, or to rescue me in a pinch.
I did manage to get out to the mall once wearing a very short, full skirt with no underwear. The first place I stopped was outside a sporting goods store and I managed to flash several men as they left, but there were too many little kids coming and going with their families. I tried sitting outside a lingerie store and had a nice time until a mall cop started making his rounds. I thought about sitting outside one of the bars but the last thing I really wanted was someone who'd had too many margaritas over lunch deciding to try and take me home. I headed to the park near the center of town and found a quiet, shady spot where I could relax and play with myself without much danger of interruption. There wasn't much danger of observation either unfortunately but at least I was outside and public.
Once classes started though I had an entirely new problem, or at least difficulty. A professor that made me drool every time I sat in class -- and that's drooling at both ends! I walked into my History 101 class the first day and my mouth fell open. Honestly, I think the instructor looked like Leif Ericson the Viking must have. I don't know how old Mr. Sanderson really is -- his skin seems kind of weathered, like he's spent too long in the sun, tanned, with some freckles and lines especially around his eyes and mouth. He has shaggy hair, down to his collar and it's that bright coppery red color you can't get from a bottle. His full beard is graying a little but his eyes are the brightest, ice blue I've ever seen. He stands about 6'2" or 6'3" and seems really muscular under the academic tweeds and bow tie.
I don't know what, specifically, it is about him -- his gravelly voice, or the way he gestures with his long fingered hands...I just don't know. I only know that I want him. I want his face buried between my thighs. I want to know what his beard feels like against the smooth skin of my pussy. I want his long fingers embedded deep inside my cunt and ass and...well, you get the idea.
I spent some face time chatting with Mr. R about how I felt and he gave me some ideas and suggestions, and told me to definitely keep him posted on my progress. I'd been spending my class time sitting down in one of the first two rows of the stadium seating. I'd wear either low cut or sheer or deeply unbuttoned shirts in hopes of drawing attention. Sir and I discussed it and he suggested going braless but I reminded him of my breasts tendency to leak milk when I get excited and aroused and I was a little concerned about the resultant wet spots. He made some alternate suggestions and as a result the next class found me sitting near the top row of students.
While I am still wearing a silky, low cut top, I'm also wearing a short, flared skirt with no panties. As I sit at my desk listening and taking notes my legs are relaxed and spread loosely in front of me and my skirt rides up on my thighs. I slouch back in my seat, easing my hips forward to the edge of the chair. It isn't the most comfortable position on the hard fiberglass so I fidget a bit. A week goes by, and then a second without any result other than Mr. Sanderson wearing his glasses more often while lecturing. By week three I'm starting to feel particularly restless, not to mention horny and deprived. During class I take a look around to make certain no one is close by or looking my way and I sneak one hand into my lap and under the hem of my skirt. Midway through a particularly juicy fantasy involving both Sir and the professor while my Daddy watches and fucks Ali I hear a voice boom out.
"Ms. Carmichael, see me after class!"
Heads turn to look my way and I hastily straighten and return my errant hand to my desktop, blushing. The rest of the class I try to pay attention to the lesson, taking occasional notes and doodling abstract penises in the margins of my notebook. At the end of class I wait as everyone files out, many glancing surreptitiously my way, before heading to the front. I stand patiently and quietly to one side while Mr. Sanderson stacks his books and papers.
"My last class ends at 7:30 this evening. Be at my office at 7:45. You know where to find it?"
I nod. He never even looks at me, he just picks up his briefcase and stalks from the room. In a panic I want to run to my room and reach out to Mr. R to ask for advice. I feel emotionally battered. I don't know what to expect this evening or how to get through the intervening hours. But I have another class to attend, and even if I could get to my room, I know that my roommate DOESN'T have a class right now and will likely be studying or napping. I had walked in on her and a boy once, but since then she usually goes to their room to fuck. At least I haven't caught her again. At any rate, the room is likely to be occupied and I only have ten more minutes to get across campus. I run, and if anyone gets a glimpse of my bare ass in the process they are welcome to it -- I don't have time to enjoy it.
Time seems to drag until 7:45 but finally I am standing outside his office door. I've taken pains to shower and change. I'm wearing a more sedate looking button front dress that hangs to mid calf. It only LOOKS sedate though really. The material is a soft, figure hugging jersey that clings to every curve. I've milked myself recently too, so I can have the chance to go braless as well as panty free. No lines mar the soft outline of the moss green material. I've unbuttoned the top few buttons -- enough to show deep cleavage between the full globes of my tits. My hard nipples are trying to drill holes through the front of the dress. And I haven't buttoned the last eighteen inches or so of the dress either. When I walk plenty of leg flashes and when I sit and cross my legs I'm naked from mid thigh to my heels. I take a deep breath and knock softly at the door.
"Come!"
