Students , Masturbation

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I was sitting in another dull class by Mr. Rubinstein. My heart, however, was pounding like a maniac. Next to me the boy was sitting I fell in love with, ever since I started following classes with him. If only he’d notice me! Today, I had made sure to put on an extra tight sweater to show off my breasts (I knew they were bigger than the boobies of the average college girl).

Next to me, he was leaning back in his chair, obviously also not too interested in Rubinstein’s lecture. Oh, how I would love to sit on that lap naked! I would ride his penis and drive him mad! Too bad I didn’t know yet how his penis looked like, it would definitely add to my fantasies.

He leaned back too far on his chair, and it squeaked. The sound it made, was awfully high. Mr. Rubinstein looked at him.

‘Sorry Mr. Rubinstein,’ he said, with his young masculine voice.

Soon images popped up in my head of Mr. Rubinstein forcing him to kiss him, making him suck him off, punishing him with his ruler. Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t watch so much Harry Potter porn.

I should focus on my mission. I decided it was time to draw his attention, and acted as if my pencil quit working.

‘Excuse me, do you have a pencil for me?’

It was as if he woke up from a dream or something. Where had he been with his thoughts?

He searched his pockets. I honestly could not get any hornier than this. The thought of his hands actually go past his penis by accident made me feel my swollen pussy area. Even sitting down on the hard college seats felt like masturbating.

‘Nope, sorry,’ he said. Our eyes met. The sexual tension was almost unbearable.

To pretend I actually cared about getting a pencil, I asked the girl on the other side of me.

‘Do you…?’

Smilingly she whispered: ‘Do I what?’ Stupid cow.

‘Do you have a pencil for me?’

‘Yes, sure. Here you go.’ As she handed it to me, our fingers touched. Would she be…? No, of course she wasn’t, everyone following Rubinstein’s class was a dull straight person. Except of course me and my beloved.

When the bell rang to announce the end of the seemingly endless lecture, I made sure stand up in the same pace as the hot guy. We were queuing in the direction of the dumb girl. As she moved kind of slowly, we accidentally brushed up against each other. The guy, who was moving behind me, grinned. I grinned back at him, and we had eye contact again. When I walked out of the college room, I knew that afternoon I would finger myself at least twice at the thought of him.


As I found myself in Rubinstein’s class that afternoon, I wondered whether my clothes expressed my sexual preferences well enough. I was wearing a white blouse with a brown pull-over that made my unfortunately not so big breasts look a little bigger, a little more upstanding, and baggy jeans beneath it with girly pink boxers showing. As always, I had my dark hair in a short boyish haircut with my separation more on one side than on the other.

Would she finally notice me? She had been the object of my fantasies for the entire course of Rubinstein now. I wanted to caress her female formed shoulders, hold her large breasts in my hands, and kiss her soft lips…

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by a guy nearly follow off his chair. Moron.

Now, back to the girl I wanted so much. Would she be into girls at all? Sometimes I was afraid that she was more into boys. Now that would be dull. But then again, I could turn her into a lesbian! My kiss on her pussy would give her pleasure like she never had with the guys.

That’s odd: it was as if she was moving back and forward on her chair a bit. Either she had to go to toilet, or she was so horny that… Nah, too good to be true.

Then suddenly she turned to me.

‘Do you…?’

Do I what? Do I want to hook up after class? Do I want to take her to my room? Do I want to ‘help’ her on her ‘homework’?

I could hardly utter it: ‘Do I what?’

‘Do you escort izmit have a pencil for me?’

Ohh, of course, she wanted to do it subtly, let us touch hands first, heat up things a bit.

‘Yes, sure. Here you go,’ I said, and as I handed her the pencil, I made sure to touch her hand. I looked her in the eye as deep as I could, and the eye contact made me hornier than ever. I realised that when I would masturbate, which I would do as soon as I got home, my well-trimmed pussy would be fingered by the hand that touched her hand. Mmm, now I really wanted this class to end.

When finally the bell rang, my fantasies were inspired even more. As we were queuing up to leave the room, she pressed her boobs against my back! Those big, outstanding, undeniably large boobs against my body! Then I even heard her grin. In my fantasies that afternoon, I would use that grin. I loved it when lesbian sex was not just about fucking each other hard and pressing clits together and dildo fucking and furiously eating out pussies, but when it was also about fooling around, smiling to each other, laughing, playfully touching each others body. I couldn’t wait to be in my room and put my fingers on my pussy.


That day in class I was unable to turn my mind to anything other than sex. Unfortunately, I was not somewhere where I could give my swollen sock the relief it needed. Instead, I found myself in another of Mr. Rubinstein’s dull lectures. Honestly, they should give that man a price for boringness!

A hot girl that I’d seen before in this course, was sitting next to me. She had a pair of boobs that made my cock rise to its maximum. I leaned back a little, if only I could peak in her blouse…

Then my chair made this awful sound. Everybody was staring at me, including Rubinstein.

‘Sorry Mr. Rubinstein,’ I said just a little too loud, so that maybe Rubinstein would pick up the criticism and finally change the boring lectures he gave.

My girlfriend, who was standing next to Mr. Rubinstein in the corner of the room, and who was the teacher’s assistant, gave me an angry look. I know she was trying to impress Mr. Rubinstein, and I was not helping.

I gave her a ‘sorry’-look.

She smiled back at me.

Thoughts of my girlfriend punishing me for the incident popped up in my head… when the class room was empty, she would command me to lay down on Mr. Rubinstein’s lecture table, and hit me with the ruler…

Then the girl next to me interrupted my sex-driven mind.

‘Excuse me, do you have a pencil for me?’

Did I have what for her? Would she have noticed the bulge in my jeans?

Damn, I should have covered it up.

Maybe she was even teasing me, by asking me for a ‘pencil’. If only I could give her my pencil!

But I knew my gf would not approve of such actions.

While thinking about it too much, I forgot to answer. I searched my pockets for a pencil and meanwhile tried to adjust my erection. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

Nope. I didn’t have any other pencil than my cream machine, my sperminator, my super pencil… but I could not tell her that.

‘Nope, sorry.’

I looked her in the eye and she was staring back at me. Our minds were on the same thing, and she knew it.

Then she started quivering with this girl next to her. Girls talking and laughing could be so cute together. The other day I had seen a porn vid about two lesbians in bed, and they were laughing at each other all the time. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the greatest porn I’d ever seen, since they were more occupied whispering sweet words and touching a bit than actually having sex, but the vid had turned me on like hell. And now two of such lovely girls were whispering beside me, being cute and innocent together…

The instant the bell rung, I felt my girlfriend’s eyes on me. Would she have known I was fantasizing instead of paying attention to Mr. Rubinstein? She gave me an angry look. Yep, she knew.

When izmit escort all students were leaving the class room, the two girls I had been watching bumped in on each other. The girl with the big boobs bumped on the petite girl. One hot girl body touching another hot girl’s body. Now that was something that would always get a smile on my face. As they were grinning at each other, I knew my dick head would be wet with pre cum by now.

When I gave my gf, who was helping the teacher getting his stuff together, a look to say I would be waiting for her outside the class room, she still seemed angry. Oh well, I would give her some good make-up sex in my room this afternoon and everything would be alright again. Somehow she was always horny after class. Probably because of all the nerves the had for appearing good in front of Mr. Rubinstein. But the man hardly noticed her. As a result, she was obsessed with him. I sometimes wondered whether he was the only thing she could get still get excited at all. I dreamt of getting a girl with a healthy sex drive. Someday I would find her, I kept telling myself. But where to find such a horny girl?


That day was my favourite time of the week: Mr. Rubinstein’s class. Not that I thought his lecture was interesting, of course. But making him notice me and fulfil my job as the teacher’s assistant was the first step to getting into academia and becoming a successful professor myself. The access to happiness and my success in life were concentrated in this one man: Mr. Rubinstein.

There he was, teaching his humble students, with his back straight, his lean figure as always in a neat suit, with dark curly hair and dark eyebrows. Compared to other men in their late 40s, Mr. Rubinstein was a charismatic man.

If he would want to put his undoubtedly gorgeous dick inside of me, if he would give me only the tiniest hint, I would be ready to take him in. He would lay me down on his lecture table and fuck me like a beast.

Right at the moment my thoughts were with fucking another man, my boyfriend almost fell down from his chair. Unbelievable how much stupidity could concentrate itself in one man.

‘Sorry Mr. Rubinstein,’ he uttered. The idiot.

Our eyes crossed. He knew I had every right to be mad at him for spoiling the good image Mr. Rubinstein had of me. In our relationship, his main function was to calm me down by giving me good sex. Well, I had to admit, that was one thing that stupid boy was quite good at.

I wanted to give him a smile, but his eyes apparently were transfixed on the quarrel between two girls sitting next to him. Why would he be so interested in those two girls bitching around?

One of the girls I really disliked. In every class of this course so far, she had seated next to or in front of my boyfriend. Somewhere I didn’t get why she opted for him, but nonetheless, that was my dick sitting there.

When class ended, I saw my boyfriend lining up to get out of the room. He didn’t make a hurry out of it, he did it in his own laid-back style, like he did with everything. If he’d only get out, I’d be able to flirt with Mr. Rubinstein more openly!

The man seemed rather confused after giving such a long, enduring lecture, and I quickly helped him with getting his stuff together. My bf would probably be intelligent enough to find his way out of the room without my encouraging smile. I stapled Mr. Rubinstein’s papers and handed them to him. He looked at me with his dark eyes and I instantly turned my eyes to the ground. I felt I was getting red.

He said: ‘Will you help me with this…?’

I was hoping he would have his big, hairy cock out and want me to suck on it, but he meant I was supposed to help him with his bag.

While I held up the bag, he put his papers in. He seemed rushed that day.

‘Thank you, … what was your name again? Thank you,’ he said, and then rushed out of the class room, leaving me completely alone. The thought of fingering izmit kendi evi olan escort myself in this room and rubbing my clit against his lecture table turned up in my mind, but then I saw my boyfriend waiting for me to lock the room. Oh well, we would have reasonably good sex at his place again. Too bad that he still hadn’t noticed I preferred being subordinate over being dominant. But luckily for our sex life he somehow always was horny after class.


That day I was giving one of my finest, most renewing and sparkling intellectual lectures. It was on neuropsychological transmitters in environmental microbiology and bacterial habitats in bioremediation in particular.

My eyes constantly fell on a girl somewhere in the middle of the class room. It was a gorgeous girl. On the one hand, she was mature enough to have developed a voluptuous body with breasts I would like to lay my hands on. On the other hand, she really had that college girl attitude that turned me on so much: easily distracted, flirty, in for discussion and unafraid to look me directly in the eye.

As I was firing my lecture away, she kept on staring at me. She let her sweet young eyes rest on my chest, my business suit, my hips and the thing in between. She wanted me, I knew it. She wanted to have sex with me, she knew I could fuck that innocent college girl’s brains out.

Then a student next to her made his chair leap back a little too much. Sometimes students could get so stupid.

‘Sorry Mr. Rubinstein,’ he said to me.

The incident however seemed to strengthen the college girl’s attention on me. Her eyes were fixed on me, and on the bulge forming in my pants. What interested me was, if she had loosened attention before, what was she thinking of then?

Then the girl’s pencil stopped working and she asked the other students for one. I would have a pencil for her, a very thick and large one… Right now in front of class it was poking straight up. As the lecture table turned out real low, all students were able to see the bulge that marked my ongoing erection.

Then the time had come for me to finish my lecture.

‘Are there still any questions?’

No answer from the class. All students appeared to become mute.

‘Does everybody understand the working of neuropsychological microbiology?’ I asked.

All students seemed to be somewhere far away, somewhere distant from the here and now, occupied with something in their minds. Maybe I should think about changing the lecture to invoke more attention next time. But then again, this was an essential lecture to understanding life, and I wouldn’t want to change what college was all about.

When the bell rung, I was still thinking about the essence of life, when I saw my assistant hassling with my papers. I gave her an angry look to say I’d rather gather them myself than let a student do it. She turned red and turned her eyes to the ground. Unfortunately, not all my students had this horny maturity over them.

I picked up the stack of papers to put it in my bag.

I asked her, ‘Will you help me with this?’ Theoretically, it was a nice idea for teachers to have servants, but practically they were not of much worth.

The girl, that had been excited about being my assistant, humbly helped me, still without looking me in the eye.

When I thanked her, I had forgotten her name again.

‘Thank you, … what was your name again? Thank you,’ I said to her.

I hurried my way out of the class room, and away from that childish girl. I guess I would never be anything else to her than Mr. Rubinstein. However, I longed to become more intimate with the mature girl. I would plunge my ever ongoing erection deep in her vagina and while putting my hands on the top of her large breasts, I would fuck her. I would show her what Mr. Rubinstein could do besides lecturing. I would make that pretty college girl beg for my sex and satisfy her hormones with my raging cock.

At least that was what I would imagine when I would finally get home, where I could free my erection and masturbate it. I couldn’t wait to be freed from the eyes of the students and to be able to lay my hands on my penis. Today would be a good day for masturbation.

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