3rd period math: Rebecca

After English, you run into Rebecca on your way to the bathroom. She's coming out of the girls' room and calls out to you. "Hey Sam!" She's wearing a cute green skirt, a bit shorter than the school code technically allows, and a light gray, short-sleeve blouse that highlights her long hair.

"Hey yourself," you say. As you head toward the bathroom, she catches your arm in hers and turns you around toward your math class. "Um," you start to say, but she interrupts you.

"I've been thinking a lot about tonight," she whispers to you as you walk with her down the hall.

"Oh?" you say plainly.

"Oh?" she lightly mocks. "Yes, oh! It's going to be a lot of fun."

"You know, I still haven't technically agreed to help you."

"Yes," she says, putting on an overblown frown. "I do know that. Even though I said I'd make it worth your while."

You walk past a group of guys whose attention is laser-focused on the hot cheerleader clutching this nobody, and you instantly feel a hundred feet tall.

"Here," she says, reaching into her bag. "I got you something. To help you decide." She stops you, opens your hand, deposits something in it, turns and walks away.

You feel cloth, soft and warm, and when you open your fingers, you see a green thong. Fuuuuck, you shout to yourself. You're holding Rebecca's underwear, which she obviously just took off after texting with you.

When you get to math class, you take your seat with anticipation. Your very old math teacher still insists on using an overhead projector, and she arranges the class in two inward facing rows of desks. All year, you've sat directly opposite Rebecca.

You often recall that glorious day earlier this year when she came to school obviously hung over from celebrating her 18th birthday. She had not been able to focus at all on that day's math test, and as she nervously bounced her legs, they opened more and more to your hungry gaze. You spent most of the period staring at an unobstructed view of her legs, her pussy hiding barely out of view behind a small white thong. You learned that day that the most flirtatious girl on the cheerleading squad had black pubes, matching the dark hair on her head, as a few stray hairs found their way to your line of sight.

But that day in the fall was nothing compared to today. As Mrs. D'Angelo monotonously intones the same lesson she'd taught for decades, Rebecca is giving you a show. You have conclusive proof that she's going commando, and about ten minutes into class, her tightly entwined legs slowly uncross. You can glimpse the faint trace of soft hair between her legs and instantly become erect.

You don't think anyone else has the same angle on Rebecca's legs, and looking at the other students, no one else seems to notice what comes next. Without a glance at you, seemingly paying very close attention to her notebook, Rebecca opens her legs. You've seen Rebecca naked several times by now through your weekly peeping sessions, and you know she knows what you've seen. In fact, one time during your weekly cum sessions, you exploded while looking at an image of her, and that garnered some extra brownie points from the bombshell.

But this is a different. So public, so risky, so forbidden. You're transfixed by her creamy thighs, her swirling pubes, the outline of her vulva. At one point, she drops her pencil on the floor and when she bends over to pick it up, her legs splay open, showing you the pink inner lips of her vagina.

When she does that, you instinctively reach down to adjust your shorts around your raging hardon. She notices and reaches down herself. Making eye contact with you, she slowly inserts her index finger into her pussy and slowly draws it out again. Your mouth drops open as she pulls her hand to her chin, pretending to concentrate, and sticks her finger between her lips.

Mrs. D'Angelo instructs the class to work on practice problems in pairs, and Rebecca crosses her legs and nonchalantly turns her attention to the girl sitting next to her. As usual, you're in a group of three, and you raise you hand.

"Yes, Sam?" Mrs. D'Angelo asks.

"May I please go to the bathroom?" you ask. You still need to pee from English class, but even more so, you have got to rub one out after that show.

"Class will end in five minutes, Sam. You can go then."

You spend those five minutes half-assing your way through your partner work and mostly thinking about Rebecca. You thought you'd had enough of public nudity after That Night, but with what Rebecca seems to be promising you, you've decided for sure to help her out.