Unsolicited Attention

When the first student came up to Kelly before class to check to make sure it would be OK for them to come by during office hours that afternoon, Kelly was just glad that one of her students was showing an interest. After the third, she started to realize what was actually going on. Looking out at her class, full of shirtless boys and girls going topless except for pasties (it was fully half of the girls in the class now), she thought that she would probably have to cancel office hours. Not that the idea of fucking some of the students she could see didn’t have some appeal. But she definitely didn’t have it in her to fuck several of them in one afternoon. She had barely dipped her toe in the pool, she wasn’t ready to dive in.

Also, she needed more time to build up her stamina.

Kelly herself had worn a top that showed quite a bit of cleavage, which was not something she had ever done previously for sure. She hadn’t even thought about it, she had just put it on. It was silly, she realized. It wasn’t like any of her students were going to notice her tits given that they were in the midst of a sea of fully exposed 19-year-old boobs. Like pussy, tits were no longer a scarce resource.

Emma still sat in the back of her class, wearing twin rainbow pasties and what might have been the same slutty denim skirt from the movie theater, but this time Kelly caught the girl giving her some knowing looks while she tried to lecture about research techniques. Shit, Emma's tits were absolutely perfect. Kelly realized she wasn’t calling them “breasts” in her head. When you went topless to your college sociology class, you had tits.

Afterward, Emma came up to her at the front of the room, a huge grin on her face, and asked, “So, which of the research techniques we talked about today includes gazzing on one of your subjects’ cocks in the middle of a movie theater? Because that’s definitely the one I want to do.” Kelly hurriedly shushed her Research Assistant, but Emma just laughed. “I think it’s a little late for that one, Doc. The cat’s out of the bag. Or should I say, the pussy?” She looked extremely proud of herself at that one.

“You didn’t tell everyone about the other night, did you?” Kelly asked her. “Or, I don’t know, post anything?”

“I mean, not everyone.” Emma saw her professor’s eyes get really big and said, “I’m messing with you, Doc. I won’t, I promise. Though I should’ve taken some video, it would’ve killed on BluTube. Probably get taken down for copyright, what with the movie, though.”

“Extremely funny,” Kelly commented flatly. “In any case, thank your friends for the BluTube invites. I do think it has a lot of opportunities for really interesting research avenues. I just… I’m honestly not sure what the best way to proceed is. To be honest, I would love to post there the way you and your friends do, but things are changing really quickly and I’m not sure about the best way to handle things.”

Emma blinked at her. “That’s the most clinical discussion of fucking on cam that I’ve ever heard.”

“I wasn’t talking about…” Kelly sighed. “I just want to make sure I do this right. I want to have a good understanding of the social networking dynamics. That’s more than just reading through a feed. Just like you can’t study an uncontacted tribe in the Amazon by looking at photographs.”

“In this scenario, are college kids the uncontacted tribe?” Emma grinned. She thought for a moment. “How about this? My roommates and I are always shooting and posting stuff pretty much any night. You could pick a night I knew we’d all be in and, I don’t know, take notes, or whatever it is you need.”

It took Kelly a second to realize that Emma was basically inviting her to hang out in her dorm. Under normal circumstances, that would be perfect for what she wanted. But in this context, it set off some alarm bells somewhere in her brain.

Oh, who was she kidding? She’d had sex in front of this girl, and the girl’d had sex in front of her. Really spectacular sex, actually. What did she think was going to happen that hadn’t already happened?

“Sure, I’ll text you,” Kelly said. “Thanks Emma.”

As she watched Emma’s round ass sashay away from her, a thought suddenly occurred to Kelly. The thought involved Emma’s 18-year-old tongue on her clit. Shit. That was the thing she was afraid of that hadn’t happened yet. Oh well. Fear was the mind-killer. That was from something, right?

In the faculty lounge, the lunchtime conversation centered on the ongoing rules changes regarding the lines between students and professors. The crotchety Dr. Gerald Wilkins gave a whole speech about the administration “capitulating” to “whiny jezebels.”

Professor Fitzgerald, the aging hippie from the writing department, paused in eating her salad to push back on this. “What is it that makes you so afraid of the female body, Gerald? Is it that you’re afraid they will tempt you into doing what you want to do anyway? That’s what your use of the word ‘jezebel’ would imply. Sounds like you need to worry more about your own agency.”

“I actually haven’t really found the new dress code particularly distracting,” Professor Davis commented. “What I have noticed is a lot more confidence from my female students in class. I think the changes have been really positive.”

“Of course you don’t think all the breasts are distracting,” Wilkins grated. “You’re a male literature professor. We all know what side of the plate you bat from.”

This brought a small offended gasp from Fitzgerald, though Davis just said, “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret. You were all at me and my husband’s wedding. And it’s not as if there aren’t all these boys walking around shirtless, too. And they all seem to work out a lot, I’m noticing. I guess I would, too, if I knew everyone was going to see me without my shirt on.”

“They’re not hurting anyone, are they?” Kelly worked up the courage to say. “I mean, they just like to feel good and make other people feel good. How is that a problem?”

“Well, Marcus Aurelius would say…” Wilkins began.

“No!” Fitzgerald shook a finger at him. “We’ll have none of your Stoicism in here!”

That afternoon, Kelly posted an apologetic sign on her office door regarding the last minute cancellation of office hours and walked back across campus to the faculty housing. She found herself sweating profusely. It seemed like this heat wave was never going to break. The idea occurred to her for the first time that she could just undress to cool off. Most of the girls she passed already had. No, she was an authority figure, she could wait until she got back to her apartment.

But she was still sorely tempted when she saw a female student going for a run in the opposite direction stop, pull up her sports bra to expose her very nice tits, and proceed dump a bottle of water over herself, half on her face and head and half on her breasts, before pulling down her bra and continuing on. It did look very refreshing, among other things.

Just as she got home, Kelly got a text from Emma. “Tonight actually good for project in dorm. Maybe 7ish? You in?”

Kelly took a deep breath in, then texted back that she would be there. Then she turned her attention to pulling off her sweaty clothes and taking a cold shower.

****

“What’s up, Doc?” Emma asked with a grin when she arrived at the door to her dorm to let Kelly in. She was wearing a white half t-shirt pulled (most of the way) down over her breasts, with the words “I’m a Goddamn Unicorn” printed across it, along a pair of floral-print panties. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

In spite of everything that had changed, the dormitory hallways brought Kelly back all the way to her own college experience twenty years earlier. The way the halls looked and smelled was fairly universal at every college, she guessed.

There were definitely differences, of course. They passed a curvy girl getting railed from behind by her boyfriend, panties around her ankles and hands leaned on the side of her dorm room bunk bed. This in itself would not have been so unusual in Kelly’s own dorm days, though in her day the couple probably would have closed the door to their room.

“Harder!” the girl screamed. “Fuck my slutty pussy!”

“Yeah, give it to her, Braden!” Emma called to the couple as they passed, laughing. Then she leaned over to Kelly and, more quietly, said, “That girl is such a screamer, we can hear her in our room all the way down the hall with the door closed. I just need her to dial it back, like, five percent. You look good, by the way.”

Kelly had decided that this was more of a casual situation and worn one of her tighter t-shirts, bearing a picture of the school’s mascot, exposing a slice of her stomach above a pair of short shorts. It was nothing she wouldn’t have worn for a quick trip to the convenience store in the past, but here in the dorms of Gen XXX it made her feel positively overdressed.

Emma stopped at a door marked “217,” above pieces of colored construction paper on which the names “Emma,” “Carmen,” and “Aileen” had been scrawled. “This is us,” she said. Then she opened it without further preamble.

The open doorway provided a clear view of one of Emma’s roommates, a skinny, raven-haired, deeply tanned Latina, who was leaned back, bottomless, on one of the beds, propped up on her elbows. Her other roommate, a pale, freckled redhead with what Kelly thought was a very attractive, full ass, was between the other girl's legs, lapping between her friend’s spread, shaved pussy lips.

“Guys!” Emma said indignantly, and both girls looked up. “You knew my Professor was coming over!” Then she sighed and finished, “I told you to wait for us.”