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From: Pan <pan@nym.alias.net>
Subject: New: "Alice" (f mast, exhibit, student/teacher, college woman)
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Warning!

This story contains explicit sexual content. Do not read this story if
you are under 18 years of age or you find such stories offensive. All
persons and events described in this story are fictional. Any
similarity to real persons or events is purely coincidental.

The name of the main female character in this story is "Alice." She is
not intended to be related in any way to the "Alice" character in the
last story I posted, "Mail Call." I just like that name!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Title   : Alice
Author  : Pan <pan@nym.alias.net>
Released: February 23, 1998 (version 1.0)
Topics  : Female masturbation, Exhibitionism, Student/Teacher.


I'm a 45 year old divorced college professor. I'm tenured, and it
seems like I've been teaching forever. I teach history. It's a subject
that most of my students take because they have to. They consider it
the lesser of many evils. We once had a history major here, but it got
cancelled when the president realized that we were only graduating two
or three people each year. That's when they got rid of the only other
full time history professor.

I actually enjoy my job. It's boring at times, but I can more or less
do what I want. I don't have to spend a lot of energy preparing for
class. History doesn't change very much and neither do the
interpretations that we bring to the lower level courses. I try to
stay well read and interested, but it's entirely for my own
benefit. Mostly my days are quite routine and predictable.

My wife left me almost ten years ago. I foolishly had an affair with a
woman I met at a conference in a nearby city. That woman and I seemed
so well matched that I deceived myself into believing we would live
happily ever after. It turned out that she was married too. I hadn't
known that, although the signs had been there for me to see. I ended
up throwing my affair in my wife's face when she left, yet the other
woman wouldn't take me either. It was really rather pathetic.

When I'm not teaching or reading in the library, I enjoy concerts,
gardening, photography, and hiking. I try to keep myself in good shape
with regular work outs. I use the college's gym, much to the amusement
of my students. They kid me about my gut or my legs but the truth is
that I'm in better shape than many of them.

This particular fall semester started more or less like any other. I
greeted the students in my usual, routine way, and handed out all the
usual, routine paperwork. I always try to get to know my students so
that they can feel comfortable kidding me in the gym. Thankfully the
college where I teach has a policy of avoiding the giant lectures that
plauge so many other universities. That makes my job much nicer.

It was probably about four weeks into a very usual and routine
semester when I got an email message from one of my freshman American
History students named Alice. "I could use a little help with the
reading assignment," she wrote. "I have some questions about it." I
often get email from students so there was nothing particularly odd
about Alice's message. I wondered what kind of questions she had. I
replied with an invitation to stop by my office later that afternoon.

Alice arrived right on schedule. She was dressed very smartly, but
conservatively. She had on a light blouse with dark pants and a dark
jacket. The color of her jacket contrasted strikingly with her long,
blond hair. I indicated a chair, and as she sat down she took out her
glasses and her notes.

Alice's work was steady, but not exceptional. She wasn't sure about
some of the questions at the end of the reading, but she seemed to
understand my explainations well enough. "I'm glad you came by," I
said and she seemed pleased. "It's good to try and get these issues
cleared up before class. It will make the discussion in class easier
to follow and you'll get more out of it."

She smiled. "I just wanted to come by and see your office anyway. I
figured you'd have a very nice office."

I laughed. "Well," I said with a wave of my arm. "What do you think?"

"I like your pictures," she said getting up to take a closer look at
them. "Did you take them?"

"Yes, I did," I replied, feeling a bit of pride coming into my
voice. "I have my own darkroom so I printed them as well."

We ended up spending a good fifteen minutes talking about photography.
It turned out that she had done a little modeling and that she knew
something about the technical side of that business as well.

"You'd make a lovely model," I told her. She smiled warmly.

The next day, I received an email message from Alice thanking me for
helping her and for spending time showing her my pictures. I replied
saying that no thanks were necessary and that she should feel free to
stop by my office anytime.

A couple of days later, while I was in the gym working out, I saw
Alice running on one of the treadmills. She waved when she saw me and
I returned her gesture before heading over to the weight machines. I
was a little surprised to see her there since I had never seen her
working out before. Yet people are always coming and going in the gym,
and there was nothing particularly unusual about that.

As I worked out, I found myself stealing glances her way. She was
extremely sexy in her skin tight leotard. She had a thin, lithe body
with pert, teenaged breasts. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail to
expose well toned shoulders and arms. She had the treadmill up fairly
high and was moving along at a rather good clip. I could see the sweat
glistening on her brow. I could also see her erect nipples clearly
outlined against the fabric of her leotard. I hadn't realized what a
great body she had, and I found myself wondering what she looked like
without that leotard.

Later in class, I lectured on the evolving political situation in the
colonies and I tried to relate those events to current events around
the world. The discussion was fairly lively and I felt pleased. I also
felt distracted by Alice in the back row. She didn't say anything but
for some reason the image of her tight leotard stretched over her hard
nipples kept coming to my mind. That night, at home in my bed, I
masturbated to that image.

The next day I found a message from Alice waiting for me in my
electronic mailbox. "I noticed you watching me in the gym yesterday,"
was all it said.

"Damn," I thought. I composed a careful reply. I didn't want to deny
what was obviously true, but I also did want to get myself into
trouble. I know of faculty members who routinely prey on their
students for sexual favors, and that practice disgusts me. I didn't
want Alice to think I was like that. Besides, tenure or no, sexual
harassment was taken very seriously by the college administration.

"You are a very striking woman," I wrote after much deliberation, "and
I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't notice you. However, I don't
want you to think that I was trying to act inappropriately. I'm sorry
if you felt uncomfortable, and I hope you will not feel uncomfortable
with me in the future."

Around noon that day, I got a reply from her that said, "I wasn't
uncomfortable at all. Actually, I liked it. I noticed you too. You're
a sexy man."

Was she coming on to me there? After a a minute of reflection, I
dragged her message to the trash can and forgot about it. But that
night I thought again about her firm breasts bouncing suggestively as
she jogged on the treadmill machine.

The next day Alice wasn't in class. That struck me as a bit unusual.
Hadn't she always been there before? I couldn't remember. I wondered
what she might have been doing. Late that afternoon I got an email
message from her. "I'm sorry I wasn't in class," she said. "I don't
like missing your classes, but something came up. Can I stop by your
office and find out what I missed?" I felt my hands shaking slightly
as I composed my reply. "Calm down," I told myself.

When she came to my office I gave her the reading assignment and a
copy of my notes. I was very professional. "Thanks," she said as she
packed the material into her notebook. Then, just as she was about to
leave she added, "I want you to know, by the way, that I wasn't
uncomfortable the other day in the gym."

"I'm glad," I muttered with a nod.

She looked at me for a long moment. "I like it when men look at my
body."

"You have a nice body," I said without thinking.

She smiled. "Maybe I'll see you in the gym again sometime!"

"Maybe." I said.

She smiled again. "Well, thanks for the notes." She turned toward the
door. "I'll see you later, Mr. Johnson."

The next day I could hardly think straight. Part of me hoped that I
would see her again that afternoon in the gym. Part of me was just
plain scared shitless by the idea. By the time I actually headed over
to the gym for my workout, I felt as nervous as a teenager on his
first date.

When I didn't see her right away, I felt a mixture of relief and
disappointment. But then I saw her. She was on one of the bench press
machines on the other side of the room. She was wearing a different
leotard; a black leotard that contrasted in an intensely sexy way with
her blond hair and fair skin. My plams broke into a sweat but I tried
to be casual and pretend that I didn't really see her.

After she had done her sets on the bench press machine, she noticed me
and waved. I smiled briefly in return, but my heart was pounding. Why
was this woman having such a strong effect on me?

As I worked out I watched Alice now and then out of the corner of my
eye. Her leotard seemed to hug her sleek body like a second skin. I
could see every contour of her breasts, buttocks, and hips clearly
outlined. Once Alice caught me looking at her. She winked and I smiled
before I discretely turned my attention back to my work. Then I
noticed that Alice seemed to be going out of her way to position
herself in my view. Sometimes she worked on the machine next to mine
and sometimes she worked on the machine across the room. In every case
I could see her just by looking up in a very natural and unconspicuous
way.

While I was working on the bicep machine, Alice decided to work on the
bench press machine. She layed down on the bench and spread her legs
slightly so that she could put her feet on the floor. From my vantage
point, I got a clear view of her legs and crotch. I fancied that I
could even see the slit between her legs outlined by her tight
leotard. I decided to do an extra set on the bicep machine and when I
got up I caught another wink from Alice.

The next morning I found an email message in my mailbox from her.

"Did you like looking at me?" she asked. "Are you going to come and
look at me again?"

"You were teasing me," I typed my reply. "And you are an
exhibitionist! But yes, I will probably come by and look at you again.
Especially since you seem to enjoy it so much. I just need to be
discrete."

A couple of hours later, I got a reply.

"I am an exhibitionist. Being looked at gets me hot. Don't worry, it
will just be our little game. I don't want to ruin it by getting you
in trouble."

Shit. I wasn't sure where this was heading, but I was very sure that I
shouldn't be playing this game with one of my students. Yet it was
intensely exciting to think about Alice getting hot.

Later in the afternoon I got another message from her. "Did you like
my black leotard?" she said. "I picked it out hoping that you were
going to be there. I have a couple of other ones that I can
wear. You'll have to tell me which is your favorite."

The next time I went to the gym, Alice was already there and seemed
very much engrossed in her workout. I began my workout in the usual,
routine way and didn't pay too much attention to her at first. She
didn't bother to greet me, which felt appropriate and comfortable. Yet
as before she seemed to position herself to make it easier for me to
watch her without it being obvious that I was doing so.

She was wearing a light blue leotard that seemed to be much higher on
her hips than the black one. The fabric was slightly sparkly and that
made her body seem to shimmer as she moved. I loved watching her
breasts jostle beneath the fabric.

"So what did you think?" she asked in email the next day.

"Nice," I replied, "but then I think you would look nice in almost
anything. You are very attractive. I admit that I still like the black
one better. Did it get you hot knowing that I was watching you?" I
asked.

She replied in only about thirty minutes. "Yes I did get hot. Just
knowing that you were there looking at me made me wet. I'm glad you
think I'm attractive. I think you are attractive too."

Class that day was uneventful. Alice was there, as usual, in the back.
She was dressed in her usual, routine way. The discussion was lively
and I managed to stay focused on my teaching very well. But that night
I masturbated while thinking about Alice getting wet.

The next time at the gym she had on a green leotard that seemed to be
in the same style as the black one. It was a dark, forest green and it
looked very nice. I could easily see her erect nipples through the
fabric. The thought that I was arousing her by looking at her turned
me on as well. I had trouble focusing on my workout.

"I liked the green leotard better than the blue one I think," I wrote
to her, "but I still like the black one the best."

I paused and then typed, "I liked the green leotard because I could
see your nipples through it."

I didn't get a reply from her for quite some time. I started to
worry. I didn't want to ruin our game by making her feel like so much
meat in a meat market. Yet she had said she was an
exhibitionist. After a few hours I started to worry that she was in
the dean's office lodging a complaint about me. Finally, at the very
end of the day I got a message from her. I anxiously opened it.

"I have something special planned for tomorrow," was all she said.

The next day I had trouble focusing on my classes. I kept thinking
about Alice and about what she was going to do. It seemed to me that
the time for my workout would never come.

Finally, I headed over to the gym at my usual time. I got changed and
almost rushed up to the room with the machines. With luck hardly
anyone was there. But Alice was there. She saw me and we made brief
eye contact, but she didn't seem to acknowledge me. She was wearing
dark blue riding shorts and a cut-off tank top that exposed her
muscular midriff from her navel up to the bottom part of her rib
cage. Her top was really just a cloth draped over her breasts; it was
completely open from below.

When she moved toward one of the machines, her breasts jostled making
it clear that she wasn't wearing a bra. When she got onto the pec
machine, her top stretched back over her breasts and her very erect
nipples poked through the thin fabric with astonishing clarity.  They
must have been a half inch long; a remarkable size considering that
her breasts were not particularly large. In addition I could see her
areolas outlined against her top and I could follow every contour of
her upturned, slightly pointed tits.

I could hardly keep my eyes off of her, and I wasn't alone. I think
every man in the room followed Alice as she moved from machine to
machine. When she raised her arms to work the overhead bar, we all
wondered if her top would ride up to expose her breasts entirely. When
she layed down on the bench press we all wondered if we could catch
the curve of her breasts peeking out from under the bottom of her
top. When she jogged on the treadmill, we all watched her breasts
shake and sway freely. She often closed her eyes for extended periods
of time, and I knew she was doing that just to make it easier for the
rest of us to stare.

"You were very sexy today," I wrote to her before leaving that
afternoon. "You have beautiful breasts and I loved watching them move
under your clothes."

That night I masturbated to those breasts.

In the morning when I arrived at work, there was a message from her.
"I'm glad you liked my show," she replied. "I wanted to display myself
to you, Mr. Johnson, but all those other people were there so I
couldn't. I still want to show myself to you. How can I do that?"

I gulped. This game was starting to get intense and I wasn't sure how
to handle it. I took a deep breath and wrote a simple, one line
response.  "Come to my office this afternoon at 5:00pm and we'll
discuss it."

It was difficult to concentrate on history. Then, when she didn't
reply, I worried again that I had overstepped my bounds. Alice was in
class in her usual, routine way, and I managed to get through class
without embarrassing myself. I looked at her a few times as I
lectured, but I couldn't read her expression.

Finally the appointed time arrived. I seriously considered leaving at
5:00 like I usually do, but I waited. One minute, two minutes, three
minutes passed and nobody came to my office door. The hallway was
quiet and deserted.

Then suddenly I heard a soft knock at the door, but the pounding of my
heart seemed to almost drown it out. "Come in." I said. It was, of
course, Alice. "Hello!" I said trying to muster as casual a tone as I
could. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew that I had to treat
this meeting as normally as I could in case she was about to complain
to the administration.

Alice did not reply. She quickly sat down on the chair opposite my
desk. She looked at me. I looked at her. Our eyes meet and there was
a tense silence. Then, she swiftly began unbuttoning her blouse. I
swallowed and watched, hardly daring to move a muscle and not daring
to speak.

First one button, then another, then a third. With each button her
blouse hung progressively more and more loosely on her shoulders. She
closed her eyes, and then with a sudden, forceful gesture, she tore
open her blouse exposing her delightful breasts to my eyes. There was
nearly absolute silence in the room. Only the sound of her ragged
breathing distracted me from the view.

Her young breasts were firm cones with just a hint of a more mature
droop along their undersides. At the tip of each cone was a bright
pink nipple that was standing out fully erect. I was amazed at the
size of her nipples; they were as large as pencil erasers and seemed a
bit out of proportion with the dantiness of her breasts.

She arched her back to thrust her breasts toward me, but she kept her
eyes closed. I wanted so much to reach out and touch her or lick her,
but I didn't move. How much time passed like that I couldn't tell. It
seemed timeless. Finally -- it might have been only a few seconds or
maybe a few minutes -- she closed her shirt and started buttoning it
up again. She looked at me, holding my gaze, and making deep eye
contact.

"Thank you," she said softly.

I nodded. And with that she left as suddenly as she had come. The
stillness of the late afternoon enfolded me.

The next day I had a message from Alice waiting for me in my mailbox.

"Did you like that as much as I did?" she asked.

I considered my response carefully. "You have an exquisite body,
Alice, and I love looking at it as much as you seem to love showing it
off. I'm glad you want to show me your body. Will you show me more?"

I didn't get any more messages from her that day. Instead I had to
attend several faculty committee meetings of one sort of another. They
were boring, of course. By the time I packed up my things to go home,
I had almost forgotten about my dialog with Alice.

However, the next day, I had a message waiting from her that got my
attention. "What part would you like to see next?" she asked. It was a
challenge, and I didn't want to let her down. Yet I was still worried
about going too far. This game was getting very intense and I didn't
want to blow it now. I paced around in my office for a few minutes
before composing my reply. Then finally I sat down at my
computer. "Show me your pussy," I wrote back.

I started work grading the last quiz but my hands were
shaking. Finally, I took a brisk walk around campus to help me relax.

I got my reply by noon. "You want to see my pussy, Mr. Johnson? Is
that because you want to see how wet I get when you look at me and how
hard my clit becomes?"

This was getting good. "You know I would," I wrote back. "Show me your
wet pussy, Alice, and your hard clit. I want to see. Come to my office
this afternoon at 5:00 again and show me."

It was a challange to teach that afternoon with Alice in the back of
the room. Her expression was bland, but whenever I looked at her, I
found myself thinking -- even if for just a fleeting instant -- of
her wet pussy. It was too much.

Shortly after class, I got a message from Alice. I opened it with
trembling hands.

"I'll be there." was all it said.

I worked out that afternoon to distract me and to pass the time. I
knew that I really needed to be working on grading some papers, but
that wasn't going to be possible. I could hardly wait for the end of
the day to come.

As before, Alice was a bit late. But this time I knew she would come.
"Yes?" I called out innocently when I heard her knock at my door. She
came in wearing a nice blouse and a short skirt.

"Hello." I said. But as before she was silent. Immediately she sat
down in the other chair. She looked at me, making eye contact. I
looked at her. There was no sound except our breathing.

"Show me." I said softly.

Suddenly she lifted up her legs slightly and spread open her
knees. Then she pulled up her skirt to display herself to me. She
wasn't wearing any underwear, and my eyes were greeted with a
beautiful view of her exposed genitals. As I looked, she spread her
knees even higher and wider to open herself even more to my gaze.

A forest of light, blond hair sprouted in a thick triangle on her
mound and spread down over her labia in a generous tangle. Her inner
lips were unusually large and looked like the wild petals of a rare
flower in full bloom -- complete with an inviting fragrance. They
glistened with her excitement, and it was obvious she was aroused.

At the top of her pussy, where the petals of her flower touched, I
could plainly see her clitoris protruding anxiously from under its
protective hood. It was a big, beautiful clitoris: hard, erect, and
full of the promise of wild pleasure. I wanted to kiss it and lick it,
but as before I didn't dare to move. Instead my eyes were drawn to her
opening. I looked deeply inside of her, penetrating her with my gaze,
until my sight got lost in the mysterious blackness within her. And
out of that blackness poured an intense sexual heat; an animal energy
that seemed to flow out of her pussy and fill the room.

Again the moment was timeless. I watched her. She watched me watching
her.  Her face was flushed and her breathing was heavy. Her pupils
were widely dilated. Her cunt glistened.

"Very nice," I said with a hoarse whisper.

She swallowed hard. I thought she was going to get up, but she made no
move. For God only knows how long, I simply stared at her; stared at
her wet, open cunt, her engorged pussy lips, and her big clit. She had
one of the most beautiful pussies I had ever seen.

Then, suddenly, she straighted up and pushed her skirt back down. I
sat back a bit -- I hadn't even realized that I had been leaning
forward. We made eye contact, but we didn't say a word. She stood up
and quickly left.

For a moment, I simply sat. Then I kneeled down on the floor with my
face near where her beautiful pussy had been. I inhaled deeply,
smelling her her, savoring her, and wishing that she was still there
so that I could lick her. My cock was rock hard in my pants.

I hurried home to jerk off.

The next morning I had a series of faculty committee meetings to
attend. The whole time I wondered if Alice had written to me and, if
so, what she had said. When my meetings were finally over, I hurried
to my office. I smiled when I saw a message from Alice in my
mailbox. My cock started to harden even as I opened it. "Did you like
what you saw?" she began. "I liked showing myself to you. My pussy was
so hot afterwards that I had to go back to my room and get myself
off. Do you see what you do to me?!"

I wrote my reply right away. "I loved the way you showed yourself to
me," I said. "You have a wonderful pussy and a lovely clit. I'm glad
you were excited by my watching you. Did you have a good orgasm in
your room afterwards? Tell me all about that."

It excited me to hear her talk dirty in email. I could hardly believe
that this was the same woman who sat so quietly in the back of my
history class every other day.

It wasn't until after lunch that I heard from her again.  I closed my
office door to read her letter. I didn't want anyone coming in while
there were certain words on my computer's screen!

"I had an excellent orgasm in my room last night, Mr. Johnson," she
began. I was so glad my roommate wasn't there when I arrived. I think
she must have gone to dinner. I was so excited, that I didn't even
bother to take my clothes off. I just sat on the edge of my bed, hiked
up my skirt the way I had for you, and did myself right then and
there. I thought about you watching me. I wanted your eyes on me,
staring, like you were before. As I stroked my clit, I imagined that
you were there, right between my thighs, looking closely at my cunt."

"I came in a rush. I was so excited that it only took me a minute or
two to climax. It was a wonderful orgasm and it made me howl. I wish
you could have seen it. Would you have likd that? Would you like to
watch me make myself cum?"

I was totally excited. My cock was straining in my pants and I knew I
had to reply right away. I wondered again if she had done this before,
but I didn't care. She had me in her spell.

"Yes," I wrote back. "I would love to see you make yourself cum. There
is nothing more beautiful, or sexy, than a woman having an orgasm. I
would love to watch you experiencing that pleasure. I would kneel down
on the floor between your legs, just like you want, and watch you
stroke your lovely clit and pussy. Spread your legs wide for me,
Alice. I want to see. I want to see every twitch and shudder that your
cunt makes when you cum!"

I hesitated for a moment before pressing "Send." I wasn't worried
anymore about her reacting badly to my message, but I was amazed that
it had come to this. I hoped she found my words even half as arousing
as I had found hers.

Much to my surprise, my lecture went fine. I was worried that I
wouldn't be able to talk straight much less think straight, but it
wasn't so. Alice was there, dressed in her routine, conservative
clothes looking like her usual self. We made eye contact briefly at
one point and I fancied that she winked a little, but perhaps I was
imagining that.

After my class with Alice, I had another one to teach. When I got back
from that, there was a message waiting for me.

"5:00pm again. Your office. Tomorrow."

The next day seemed to go quickly. I tried not to think about Alice;
each time I did, my cock started to get hard in my pants. Would she
really go through with it? I knew that she would. She was enjoying this
as much as I was. Yet I wondered where it would all lead.

The appointed time came. Alice was late -- later than usual. I almost
thought she wasn't going to come at all. Yet at 5:13 I heard a soft
knock on my office door.

"Come in," I said.

Alice opened the door. She was wearing a turtle neck sweater and
jeans.  I felt disappointed. She wasn't going to do it. She had come
to tell me that we had gone far enough.

As soon as the door closed, she turned toward me and smiled. "Watch
me," she said softly. A silence filled the room as she moved her
fingers down to her belt and began to unbuckle it. "Watch me touch
myself." I swallowed hard and sat down in my chair. She stood before
me, unzipping her pants. In moments she was pulling them down her legs
and kicking them off her feet. She was not wearing any underwear and
her blond curls formed a delightful tangle between her legs.

"Watch me touch myself until I cum," she whispered.

She sat down on the chair by my desk and spread her legs widely,
opening herself up to me the way she had the other day. Then she
lifted up her feet and put them on the seat of the chair, spreading
herself open even more. I stared at her totally exposed pussy, already
moist with her excitement. She thrust her hips forward at me, rocking
them, inviting me to look at her completely. I could hardly believe
how lewd she looked! I could see her labia spread open like a
wildflower in bloom. I could see her clit protroduing clearly out from
under its hood, firm and proud. I wondered briefly if her genitals
always looked like that. Was this woman horny all the time?

"Watch me," she said in a soft but commanding voice. "Watch me touch
myself until I cum."

She started to run her fingers over her labia, massaging them. Then
with one finger she started to rub her clit from side to side. She
used a slow, slightly jerky motion. I watched with fascination as her
little erection flicked from one side of her finger to the other. She
closed her eyes for a moment to savor the sensations. She seemed so
wanton -- not bashful or timid at all. She stroked herself
steadily. Her breathing was ragged and her pussy was wet.

"Penetrate yourself with your finger," I said. "I want to see."

She did as I asked, dipping a slender finger into her warm depths. I
could see her pressing against her G-spot and she gasped softly as she
did. When it came out, her finger was covered with her lubrication.
Immediately she back to rub her clit with quick, steady strokes.

"Yes, that's it," I said softly. "Play with that pussy! Make it
cum!"

"Come down between my legs," she replied breathlessly. "Like you said
you would. I want you to be able to really see me."

Almoast as if in a dream, I got out of my chair and moved down to a
kneeling position right in front of her. I moved toward her slowly,
but steadily until my face was only about a foot from her crotch. The
sight of her open, excited pussy filled my view and the smell of her
filled my nostrils.

"Oh yeah!" she gasped as she plunged a finger back inside of her
body. "That's it! Watch me finger fuck myself. Oh God, yeah!" At first
she used only one finger, but soon she joined it with another. In and
out she moved them, her entire hand and lower arm joining in the
motion. I glanced up to see her, wide-eyed, watching me between her
legs.

"I'm finger fucking myself," she panted. "Do you see? Do you see how I
do that?"

"Yes," I said as I turned my attention back to the pornographic
spectacle before me. "I see. I see you fucking your hot, soaking pussy
with your fingers." Her cunt was wide open. It was a dark red color,
and dripping with wetness. It was a gaping mouth trying to swollow her
hand. She fucked herself vigorously, her hand moved back and forth
rapidly as liquid sounds started coming from her excited pussy. Her
clit had, if anything become larger and more pronounced than ever. It
looked like a bead, almost, nestled in the folds of her skin.

Suddenly, she stopped finger fucking herself, and started stroking
that big clit with rapid movements. "Watch me!" she moaned. "Ohhh,
please watch me!" She spread her legs even more and her pussy started
to dribble wetness as she stroked herself. The scent of her was
strong.

"I'll watch you, Alice," I said. "I'll watch you play with that clit
of yours until your pussy cums so hard you scream. Would you like that,
Alice? You do want me to see what your pussy looks like when it cums,
don't you?"

"Oh yes!" she gasped. Her finger was just a blur and her inner lips
where totally spread and open. Her genitals looked like an exotic flower
in bloom, dripping with fresh rain.

"Then show me!" I said. "Make your pussy cum and show me!"

"Do you want to see!" she hissed as her finger continued working her
clit steadily.

"Yes!" I replied.

"Do you want to see my pussy cum!!" she cried out rather loudly in her
excitement.

"Yes!!" I commanded.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!!" she panted. 

Then, suddenly, my beautiful American History student threw back her
head and orgasmed right in front of my eyes. It was lovely to behold.
She pressed her hips upwards in a strong contraction, and a long,
groaning howl of raw animal pleasure poured out of her.

"I'm watching you," I said intently. "I'm watching you cum." She began
to grunt and her pussy started twitching in ecstasy. I could actually
see her ogasmic contractions easily! She rolled her head from side to
side, as if she was drowning in pleasure while liquid flowed steadily
from her quivering cunt and onto the chair.

"Excellent!" I said enthusiastically. "Cum long and hard for me! I
want to see. I want to see you cumming hard!"

"Oh God, yessss!" she groand loudly, still cumming. "Watch meeee
cummmm!  Ohhhh God, it feels sooooo good!!"

Finally her orgasm started to settle down and she slowed her stroking.
I watched her cunt the entire time marvelling in the power and beauty
of her climax and in what it did to her pussy.

"That was very beautiful," I said when she had finished. I sat back
onto the floor while she idly stroked her pubic hair.

"I liked it too," she said with a smile. "But now I've got to go." She
stood up suddenly and quickly pulled her pants back on.

"Are... are you okay?" I asked?

She smiled. "Don't forget to check your mail later tonight!" she
said. And then she was gone.

END


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