A Contest

"Time off?" You say. The way their eyes look, with such a pleading expression, you couldn't just say no. "How about this. We have our next class together, right?"

"Yeah."

You explain as you walk. In their state of undress, you notice that Ashely's usual confident walk has turned sheepish, and her eyes dart around, trying to cover herself, but once she's in the clear with you she tries to regain her posture again. It must be hard with the weight of those breasts. Sarah, on the other hand, has a nubile body and moves around a lot when she's nervous, though she tries to act nonchalant. Her jacket isn't large enough to cover her ass.

"Let's have a contest. In the next lecture, who orgasms first will get to wear any clothing they choose that belongs to the loser for the rest of the day."

Ashley covers her open mouth. The two look at each other. It was cold, plus you stood so close to them that you could see the smooth texture of the skin around their collarbones. How it would be so easy to just slip their bra straps off.

"The loser, of course, has to go with what's left."

"No! You can't do that!" Ashley says.

"I think it's fair game," Sarah says. It's a perfect opportunity for her to get **** at how Ashley leaned in close to her open pussy just now. She smirks at Ashley.

Several guys you pass by take their time to stare and cheer. The two duck behind you. "Hey! Eyes to yourself, eyes to yourself," Sarah says.

"Oh, and you lose by default if you get caught."

You enter the lecture hall. Sarah sits to your left, Ashley to your right. You pick a spot where it was fairer for the game, given the relatively crowded hall - the closest person to either of Sarah or Ashley is two seats away.

You wait for the lecture to start, and say, "Okay, begin."

Sarah starts, her right hand going straight to her pussy. She works up a rhythm with only her fingers, but her left arm rests on the armrest. Her face is a quiet cool, hiding any betrayal of pleasure with a tense tight lip. Her only sounds are labored breathing, which you find cute.

Ashley, on the other hand, is finding it hard to stay discreet. Her face contorts in an agonizing way, her voice sounds with every breath. She opens her phone to pictures of a naked celebrity to help, but not before checking the few rows behind.

You grin, and try to pay attention to actual class for just a second. Who are you kidding? You can't.

"Oh," Ashley suddenly says, but it's not a full on sexual moan. A few people in front of us turn, but she picks up her pen in time and stares at the projection screen way up front. She's not out of the game yet, but that pause is going to cost her.

Sarah is now making great progress, it seems. She's bobbing to a good rhythm, but wore earbuds to make it seem like great music. The closer she gets to climax, the more she arches forward, and she supports her chin with her left arm for a better position. She winces for seconds at a time.

You start to worry slightly, because, as you remember, you are the clothing inspector, not them. You can touch these girls in any way you want at your own will, and that's totally normal, as everybody knows. But these girls, touching themselves? There might be a rule that prohibits masturbating in public spaces. It could mean trouble for them if they got caught.

You suddenly feel your arm grabbed by Ashley. "Help me!" she whispers, and drags your hand to her pussy. But it was too sudden, and you had never thought this would happen with Ashley before. Ashley, who you had always thought of as a good friend, never having seen each other in any sexual way before, now begging you to masturbate her. So your fingers only move sloppily, skirt on the fabric of her panties, too slow to have any good use. She snatches your hand away and reassigns it to her nipples instead, and works up speed with her own fingers. You pinch and and tickle from outside her bra.

Sarah, sensing the unfairness, grabs your other hand and places it on her nipple too. You lightly pinch, and she seems to double down. Nobody seems to notice, but even if they do it's big deal anyway.

"Ahhh," Ashley suddenly moans. This time, it's loud and unmistakable. She stops, entirely, and covers her mouth with her hands, eyes wide. A few rows of people turn back to look at us, and the lecturer stops mid-sentence.

"Not here," the lecturer says, and shakes her head. The students around don't say a word - they probably don't know what to say in a situation like this - but some stare with leering eyes, some blankly and some with disgust. They turn back, and the lecturer continues.

Ashley turns to me, still wide eyed. Meanwhile, Sarah jolts in her seat and makes a sound of finally breathing after holding her breath for a long time. The boy two seats away notices. She ignores him, swats my hand away, which was still at her nipple, and combs her hair back. She whispers, "Fuck, I can't believe I just did that."

She looks over to Ashley, who seems genuinely afraid.

We sit out the rest of the lecture, and when it finishes, find an empty classroom to settle the score.

"My ancestors in France could hear that," Sarah says. She has her hands are in the pockets of her jacket.

I didn't realize how red Ashley was until we finally exit the lecture hall. "God, shut up," she says. "I mean, I'm sorry, Sarah. Please, I'll buy you lunch, or something, just, it was wrong for me to stare at your pussy this morning, okay? Can I do something so you'll let me keep my clothes?"

Sarah looks over to me, a confident smile.