First Class

Mister Woodrow stood a firm head above, his salt-and-pepper beard giving him a rugged but sophisticated look, along with his healthy looking upper body which was clad in a slightly unbuttoned shirt, revealing just a tinge of chest hair. Even though your focus was still very much on the fact you were naked in front of at least 20 people, you couldn’t help but think a bit about how that chest hair must feel.

From his chest, your eyes then darted to the class in front of you, filled with 18 to 20 year old college boys either leering, blushing or both. You could feel their eyes wander your skin, their gazes lingering on your chest as your nipples tightened into a hard point from the cold air…or was it from the attention? Their looks also went further down, over your stomach, to your pubic mound and lower still to your shaved lips. It felt rather painful, the fact you’d taken special care to finally shave them, just to try it out, when setting out for here, and now it meant everyone got a good look at your labia, the light reflecting on them ever so slightly as you felt your insides start to produce wetness at an alarming rate. Naturally your face was beet red at this point and some of the students saw this and laughed. Eventually, after a few long painful seconds, your English teacher pulled you out of your daze by reaffirming his grip on your naked shoulder, and speaking.

“Quiet down, all of you. As you’ve all been informed, this is our institute’s new scholarship student. You’ve all also been told about how her situation is vis a vis her uniform. I want to be very clear: normal school rules still apply despite her…dress code.” You heard Mr. Woodrow briefly clear his throat of something before moving on. “No unwanted touches, no groping or anything further wantonly immoral, am I clear?”

The class mumbled a bit

“AM I CLEAR?” Mister Woodrow’s voice boomed through the classroom, making your body shake from the sheer power. If you weren’t silent due to the increasing arousal you were feeling, you might’ve joined in on your classmates as they spoke in unison: “Sir, yes, sir.”

Mr. Woodrow nodded and then leaned in closer to say to you. “Your seat’s right over there. If anything’s wrong, just tell me.” He patted your back with his strong hand, sending a shiver down your entire body, and then let go of you. For a few seconds, your eyes were still nervously looking at the filled seats in front of you, and then you finally spotted your seat. It was in the back, luckily, next to someone who seemed to try not to stare, but took the occasional glance anyways.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself, you shuffle over to your seat. Holding your class schedule in front of your privates unfortunately only serves to highlight your chest more, which at 36D’s, were noticeable enough to begin with. As your shoe-clad feet tap across the floor, you feel all eyes fixed on your body, moving your chest, to your hips and then, as you pass people by, to your ass. The walk feels like it takes a lifetime, but eventually you arrive, pulling out your chair and sitting down. Since the desk covered everything from your stomach down, you move to hold the schedule against your chest instead, glad at the meager amount of flesh you can cover.

Mr. Woodrow finally takes your sitting down as the cue to begin his class, telling everyone to pull up their textbooks on a certain page. You didn’t have any books yet, as you’d been told they were going to be delivered to you sometime this week. Despite your obviously dire situation, you still wanted to try and follow along, even if your mind was slowly fogging up. As you stared at your desk, wondering whether to ask Mr. Woodrow for a textbook and draw all attention to you again, you feel a finger briefly prod your shoulder.

It’s the guy next to you, who quietly shuffles his textbook onto the line between your two desks. Sitting here, you finally got to have a good look at him. He had short brown hair and a rather rounded face. Like every student he was wearing the school uniform, but he was thin even for the tight uniforms the other students wore, as it seemed oversized on him. Briefly you glanced further down and noticed a part where his uniform did seem too small, as his erection strained hard against his pants. It looked almost painful, the way the tip seemed to prod at the front of his uniform, **** to get out.

Even though they were plenty red already, your cheeks try to turn even redder as you realize you were just staring at it, and he seemed to have noticed too. Turning your eyes back up to the book in front of you, you did your best to ignore…everything that's happening right now and focus on the class. It’s a struggle for sure, but you manage. About halfway through the class, Mr Woodrow instructs people to discuss the text he’d just read to the class with the person next to you, and afterward he’d poll some people for their opinion.

Finally you can break your focus and you decide it’s probably best to introduce yourself to this poor guy who must no doubt be struggling as much to focus as you. Reaching out your hand whilst trying to keep covered you say: “Heather, I’m Heather.” Your voice is shaky, but you hope he’s too buzzed with arousal to notice. Carefully taking your hand, he smiles and says: “Lee.” Despite your situation, this seems to put him at ease a bit. Having broken the ice, it seems Lee felt confident enough to actually talk with you, as he was the one to ask you a question this time:

“Does it…feel weird, being naked?”

You could see the blush growing on his face as he asked this, trying (and failing remarkably) at trying to be normal about this question. In an attempt to do better than Lee’s lousy acting, you put on as genuine a smile as you can and nod. “Y-yeah, it’s definitely…unusual.” It was all you could muster, as you’d been unable to properly stop and think about your situation, just simply going from one insane experience to another. Trying to steer the conversation away from your nudity, you turn to the textbook before you two and begin to read the text, which Lee seems to also try to do.

The two of you get through the text, somehow, despite both your minds being practically filled with strange emotions. It didn’t help that the text itself was about a woman clamoring about her hard-won freedom, some passage from an old book. Neither of you two really wanted to discuss the text but Mr Woodrow was circling the class and listening to people so preferring not to be scolded in this state, Lee took initiative. His eyes were averted to the text, his face was still red and his voice high strung as he spoke his opinion on the excerpt.

“I-I’ll admit I’m not sure I entirely understand it, since I’ve never needed freedom that much, I suppose.”

Your take was quite a bit different. You had far too much ‘freedom’, from your clothes, but in some ways you also didn’t have as much as you would like. Even though you really wanted to communicate this to Lee, holding a conversation this serious felt unbearable with everything going on. As you were reading the text, you had become increasingly aware of the way your ass and thighs stuck to the chair beneath you. Of how your nipples remained strained in a hardened state on your chest. The sensation of your heart beating raced through your body. Shaking off these feelings was near impossible, and just as your hand was lowering itself to your stomach, caving to the desire to be touched there, Mr Woodrow called for the class’ attention.

“I hope you have all been able to form some original thoughts about the piece. When I call your name, I want you to stand up and give me two sentences about how you think this piece still relates to the world of today.”

His eyes scanned the room and every fiber of your being was praying for his next words to not be:

“Miss McCoy.”

Before your mind could even so much as process those words, their implication, your legs straightened themselves out and brought you upright, your cunt just barely peeking up above the desk you had been sitting at. At this point your brain caught up and short-circuited as you realized your predicament. Everyone was looking at you, some even leering at you, as you stumbled and fumbled. Your eyes darted around as your body heated up like crazy, mouth turning dry.

Just before Mr Woodrow had the idea to repeat his question, you looked to your side, at Lee, who nodded, and you realized he was telling you to use his words.

“It’s a very hard piece of literature to uhm…understand. The sudden burst of freedom the woman in the text experiences is something you can’t really feel today.”

The words fell out of your mouth at a rapid pace, both from nerves as well as hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. Mr Woodrow seemed to linger his eyes on you for just a moment too long to be normal and nodded, and you never sat down faster in your life. Feeling your chest shake in time with your heartbeat, you looked over at Lee.

“Th-thanks.”

“N-no problem.”

As your eyes took him in again, you noticed his posture was contorted, uncomfortable. It was clear his erection was causing him discomfort. Part of you felt bad for causing him to feel this way, so in a strange moment of courage and horniness you told him:

“If you want to sneakily relieve it, I won’t tell.”

His eyes shot up at you, trying to make sure he just heard what he thought he did. To confirm his suspicions you gave him a nod, mostly because at this point your mind was craving to see it, after the outline of his cock had been teasing you, all class long. Lee didn’t hesitate a moment longer as he very quietly and seamlessly undid his pants. The focus of the class was back to the front where Mr Woodrow was lecturing a student who had fumbled and forgotten to actually read the text. This gave Lee the possibility to slip out his erection. You’d seen some before, online, a male friend’s, but never while naked yourself.

It added something to it, being so turned on as you saw his cock twitch, a spurt of clear pre-cum leaking from the top. Without thinking about it, driven by pure pleasure, you reached your hand out. Lee had to bite his lip to not moan as his eyes went wide at your touch. Mesmerized by the hot, sticky flesh in your hand, you began to stroke him, your own body begging for a similar touch, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to get caught masturbating yourself in the very first class. It’d make every guy think they had a shot at you, and your life would be miserable. At least in this case, you had some plausible deniability if you drew your hand away.

You felt as Lee twitched beneath your soft touch, and without warning as your hand reached the top of his cock, he began to spurt. Caught off-guard by this very sudden leak, your moved your hand over his tip and let it all flow against your hand as Lee’s eyes closed to hide how they rolled back in his skull.

It was by far the hottest thing you’d ever done, right up until you saw the guy left of you smirk, watching as you caught Lee’s cum in your hand.