Master 
Super Moderator
Registration Date: 06-27-2006
Posts: 93
Mistress Or Master Or Slave: Master
Location: USA
Level: 34 [?]
Experience: 637,336
Next Level: 677,567
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I've never been the type to study hard and get good marks. It just wasn't my thing. Not that I'm a party animal, either. I'm too shy to get drunk with strangers and dance all night.
So when I realized that my marks were crap even though I didn't have a social life either, I decided I had to do something.
I'm not very good at pulling off the hot look. I've got big eyes and a small mouth with full lips, and everyone tells me I'm angelic and cute. So I go with what I've got. I wore one of those white frilly thin skirts to class the next day, with a pink lace top, and I had got up early that morning to put adorable baby braids in my long hair. I didn't have to fake the shy look on my face. I knew I had dressed up, and everyone else in the room knew it too. I caught a few guys looking at me as I walked past, and I felt my cheeks go warmer.
From under my lashes I saw strappy heels on a girl's feet, and also a pair of spike heels. Again I wished I could be one of those "hot" girls, but with all those eyes on me, the thought went away pretty fast. I took my seat in the center of a row near the front. A guy from the row above slipped down and took the seat next to me.
"Hey there. You look different today." I just smiled, because I wasn't sure what to say.
"I'm Anthony." He offered his hand and I shook it, but I already knew his name. He was a cute guy, and the girls on campus all knew him. So far in class he's only asked me for a sheet of paper, and whether I could lend him a pen. He was nice enough, though.
"I'm Anny."
"Yah, that's what I thought. We've talked before, I think."
"Yah." I looked down at the flip desk, too nervous to say anything more. There was a long pause, until our professor stalked in without a cup of the usual coffee and his books.
Our professor was followed by another man, though, much younger, in his late twenties.
"Settle down, all of ya." The chatter died away.
"This, is professor Eastmen"
"Please, just call me Mike." The younger man said.
"He's a student teacher, and he'll be taking over this class for the next few weeks. Just some issues with our schedules. However, if any of you wish to speak to me about courses contents, find me at my office. Though I'm sure Professor Eastmen is just as competent." He smiled, and walked out of the room.
Our new professor set his books down and looked up at us all. His gaze briefly passed over me and he smiled politely.
"Hey, guys. No nonsense with the professor thing, just call me Mike. I like my classes to be casual and relaxed. Now let's get to business!" As he lectured us, I caught myself thinking that he was a pretty man. Literally pretty. Cute, one would say. When I started smiling dreamily into the air, someone poked my arm.
"Hey Anny. I didn't really get to finish what I was saying. I wanted to tell you that I think you look, really, pretty today." Anthony said in a low voice, and I felt my cheeks heating up again.
"Thanks," I whispered back. When I brought my eyes back to the professor, I noticed a small crease in his eyebrows, as he quickly frowned in my direction, but didn't pause in his speech.
"Oh, we shouldn't talk because we're so close to the front," I told Anthony. He nodded.
I was taking notes and in the middle of writing "underwater archeaology" when I felt a hand on my thigh, and my letter "l" slanted across three lines. I looked over at Anthony in shock, but his eyes were straight ahead, though his hand was rubbing me. I moved his hand away and glared at him, but when I finished my "y", his hand was back. I angrily shoved it away.
"Excuse you." I whispered.
"Come on." He tilted his head in exasperation.
"No, I don't like it. Stop." It was hard to whisper in an upset tone, but I did it.
"I thought you finally came through. Come on, why are you all dressed up? Obviously you want to get on with a life now. You're nice looking, and I'm gonna make your way to being popular so much easier." He grinned.
My mind wanted me to slap him, but my body was too concious to do it. I've never been angry at someone I didn't know well, so I stared at him, willing him to stop. But his left hand moved up my right leg, and I froze in embarassment and anger. My skirt was lifting as he moved his hand higher, since there was nothing to hold it down. I looked away, hoping no one would notice our inappropreate behaviour.
"Please stop." I whispered.
"Hang with me, and you'll be the coolest girl on campus within a week."
"No.. please." I was near tears, because this guy turned out to be such an asshole, and I was too scared to stand up for myself. He gave a quiet laugh, and he watched his hand press against the inside of my leg.
Maybe it was because he was annoyed at all the whispering, the professor looked cast a glance towards us, almost missing a word when he saw Anthony's hand beneath my desk. If he thought I was flirting with Anthony at first, one look at my face would have pushed the thought out of his mind. He raised an eyebrow at me as he spoke on about "excavating material culture", probably wondering why I wasn't stopping Anthony if I was so upset.
Anthony looked down into my shirt as his hand went under my skirt and fingered my panties, purposely pinching along the way. The professor locked eyes with me, just as a tear fell down my cheek. Something crossed over his face, I couldn't see clearly because my vision was blurred through my tears, but then I heard the textbook slam against the lecture stand, and when my tears fell, I saw that Professor Eastmen was radiating cold anger.
It was as if the class suddenly woke, when everyone jumped at the deafening sound. Anthony jerked, just like everyone else, pulling his hand from where it didn't belong, and back onto his desk.
"Professor?" A few students from the back of the class voiced their concern. Professor Eastmen was derterminedly staring down at his desk.
"Sorry, guys. I don't feel so well. Study hall for the rest of class." His voice had a hard and controlled edge to it. Rustling noises sounded as students gathered their belongings and rose, and Anthony had no choice but to leave me when I refused to move.
No one noticed the wetness on my face. No one even looked back at me as they left. But I would have rathered it that way. I don't know how long I sat there for, or how long Professor was staring at the wood on his lecture stand for, but when I looked up at him, he was looking at me.
I tried to smile, but the smile broke on my lips.
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College Girl 1
