Written by Slipperysam
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11 minute read
The door clicked to a close behind the professor as she walked across the front of the room. A cursory glance told her most of her students were here, at least enough to begin the study group. The conversational buzz petered out leaving only the clicks of her heels echoing into the air as she crossed the floor and the room was quiet by the time she turned to address them.
“Good morning everyone. I hope today finds you in good shape for learning because we have an intense few days before your assessments are due. Today we will finish our study of Anderson’s last three short story works and his attempt at summarising the post millennium human condition, then move on to analysis and conclusions. By the end of today I want you all to be au fait with these three stories and able to construct arguments both with and against his views for the assessment.”
The students stared back at her with their usual looks, a broad range of postures and affect from utter boredom to mild interest. She continued talking at them as she placed her bag on the desk next to her and drew a sheaf of papers from it.
“I want you to get into groups of three and spend fifteen minutes going through these ten questions of Anderson’s pre-millennium works to get you in the mood for the next set. Darren, can you please pass these around to the groups?”
She handed the papers to the student closest to her amongst the scrape of chairs and bustle of organisation which filled the room as they sorted themselves according to their instructions. After he stood and took them away to disseminate them, the professor smoothed her skirt, slung her jacket over the back of her chair and sat down at her desk.
As she drew in her chair her foot connected with something under the desk. She looked down, tilting her head slightly to the side and saw a knee in denim blue just below the line of the desktop. She suddenly looked up at the student group who had now settled into their work and were discussing the first question amongst themselves, then returned her gaze to the leg below her desk.
A warm hand found her ankle, touching it so lightly, began to caress it. The professor straightened in her chair and stared blankly at the wall in the back of the room for a moment. She knew who was under there. He had whispered to her in the dark in their bed that he would like to do this one day. She had agreed in quiet purrs to him about how turned on she would be if he had the courage. It seemed that he did indeed have the gumption after all and now it was up to her to accept the challenge. A smile crossed her lips at the realisation of what was happening, and at the same time she felt her pussy swell and beginning to moisten. This was going to be a perfect day.
The hand was joined by another on her other leg. Slowly, tenderly , almost tickling but firm enough to be erotic, they began to move up her legs. The fingers stretched and caressed her calves, coming around the inside and moving up before ebbing away down again. She moved her legs slightly to gently raise her feet and felt the mysterious hands remove her shoes, as if their owner had read her mind. With her bare feet now on the ground she tilted the pan of her seat forward a little, then reclined the seat back to angle herself properly for what was coming.
The fifteen students in front of her appeared to be completely engaged. They had formed their usual groups, each with a natural leader and were working well like they always did. Animated conversations filled the air with a cacophony of enthusiasm, the tempo, volume and pitch rising and falling from different parts of the room, an automated orchestra of discussion as each group grappled to indoctrinate then test each idea. She took her laptop from her bag and opened it up onto the desk to shield herself partially from them as the hands continued to massage her tired feet, then she allowed her concentration to move from the class to the warm, expert hands working their magic beneath her.
Slowly the fingers traced their way around her calves, then back to her ankles, moving so delicately the caresses came close to tickles. Already the sensations were travelling up through her groin and into her stomach, almost like butterflies, nervousness. She let her eyes close as the fingers wound their way up past her knees, nails tracing their delicate lines back and forth in lazy arcs. She let her legs fall open as they came up to the inside of her thighs, her knees stretching out as far as she could get them to accommodate her under desk guest as the fingers reached ever further up. Painfully slowly they wound around her thighs, under them against the chair then around inside again, moving up by an inch each time. Her loins were beginning to ache. She could feel the blood rushing to them, her lips fattening there as moisture oozed through her knickers and down her thigh. The smell of her hot wet pussy was reaching her face now and the ache intensified, her anticipation growing with the speed of her breath. Around and around went the fingers, making their way up, until finally they were making circles around her inner thigh an inch below her pussy. All she wanted to do was slide herself down to meet them but she held herself in place on her seat and concentrated hard on what they were doing.
The fingers made their way up and down so tantalisingly close to the edge of her labia. She could feel her own heat reflecting from them back on to herself. She could not remember the last time she was this turned on. Her heart pounded in her ears, her bottom twitched, her sphincter tightened, her nipples strained to the point of being painful. She had written many stories herself with a theme of being fucked in public, musings of her daydreams which had come to her during boring episodes in her life, waiting for someone in a restaurant, at the bus station, in the taxi while she let her dirty mind drift into such taboo subjects. She had published some online and had submitted a collection of ten of her best for publishing in hard copy but had not yet heard back. She could not believe that he had guessed that this scenario was her favourite daydream of all and that he was here breathing life in to it for her. In fact she did not think he was even aware that she had written them. Lucky for her he had made a lucky guess.
The fingers brushed her pussy so lightly through wet cotton of her knickers. A slow nervous tension filled her tunnel and arse as if someone was taking to the bottom of her body from within her with a feather. The feeling was moving up her back as the fingers gently squeezed her flaps together and ran up and down the length of them from the very bottom of her pussy to the very top. Each time they came back down she felt more of her moisture leak out of her. The feelings were so intense, he had not done this to her before, so slowly and controlled, but it was absolutely perfect.
The tips of those fingers now found their way under her knickers and met just below her pussy. She felt them against the soft skin below her vagina and the resulting instant tingle threw her eyes open. She realised how heavy her breathing had become as she eyed the class quickly and measured them for any recognition of what was happening to her. No-one seemed to be taking the least bit of notice of her. The buzz of their conversation had not changed in pitch and they seemed to be carrying on with their assignment of the moment.
She relaxed again and felt those fingers as they lifted her knickers away from her and passed so gently up her wrinkled soft lips. She was so immensely wet they glided unimpeded, frictionless to the top of her and then back down again, where they separated her folds at the bottom of her pussy and came inside those lower lips to press gently at her entrance. She took in a sharp breath through her pursed lips as they slowly pressed every tiny part of the beginning of her vagina and worked their way around it. Her hands gripped tightly onto her knees as she tried to steady herself, her back and pelvis beginning to shudder, her head nodding in tiny shakes, then the tiniest squeak of a moan escaped her as one finger found its way just inside her.
Her breath was coming very quickly now, shallow, making her nostrils flare. Her eyes were wide as they surveyed the class over the top of her laptop. The finger made its way in a little further causing her toes press hard against the floor, her heels firmly pushed down as well and she angled herself up to meet those glorious phalanges, to welcome them, to invite them further inside. The nervous waves from her pelvis were coming up inside her in quick succession now as that finger edged further inside her. She felt the other finger slide up the inside of her panties. Bent, it hooked them away from her pussy and off to the side. Her breathing was now audible to her as it pushed at her nostrils and rushed in and out of her. She felt the finger push in a little further and then felt a second join it. The next sensation was the weight of her lovers body on her thighs, hair gently tickling her as a warm tongue broadly lapped against her aching swollen clit.
She began to cum.
She sucked in a huge breath and held it.
The unstoppable chain reaction of climax stretched its fingers up inside her from her womb to her chest.
The thought of that hair tickling her thigh struck her. Her boyfriend was bald.
Her knees came up and crushed her hands against the underside of the desk.
Her chest heaved her breasts outward and her head back as the huge orgasm lifted its way through her.
He has no hair.
The tongue lapped against her again and again, then sucked her inside its mouth and… bit her!
Her pelvis Jerked. Her backside left the chair.
Who is that under there?
Her knees hit the table in a staccato succession and she could not stifle the whelps of pleasure that belted from her mouth.
As her head began to clear she heard the sound of….
Horrified she watched them standing there looking back at her. Her face flushed deeply red and they began to chant…
“Happy Birthday to you…
Happy Birthday to you…”
Happy Birthday dear Professor…”
She looked under the desk to see, finally revealed, Emma!
A nineteen year old student from this very class!
She stood. Her skirt fell to cover her.
She pointed one arm to the door.
“Everybody out – Now!” she tried to look stern but her legs shook beneath her.
Smiling they filed out the door, to their credit in hasty fashion.
After the last one left and the door had swung itself back into place, the girl Emma unfolded herself from under the desk to stand before the professor.
“What was that..?” the professor stammered.
“My cousin works at the print house where you sent your stories. I have read them Professor, they’re absolutely brilliant. I can tell you they are going to be published and I wanted to act out this one fantasy for you. The first one in your book”
“Did the whole class know what you were doing under there?” the professor asked.
“No. But I did organise them to sing happy birthday for you. I told them I would send a disgusting email to you that would make you scream when you opened it, and as part of the joke to stand and sing for you” Emma confessed. “and it seemed to work.”
“Haha well yes it did.” The Professor laughed at her. “That was the most intense orgasm I have ever had. It was amazing…”
She leaned forward and touched Emma on the shoulder.
“Anytime Professor….” Emma replied, smiling.
She picked up her bag from beneath the desk and walked toward the door, leaving the professor still stunned standing in the middle of the room.
“Happy Birthday” She said back over her shoulder as she pulled open the door. Then she was gone, the door it slowly swinging itself shut behind her.