Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Becca Takes Her Hands Off The Wheel by ratios Part 9: Then there was a hand resting on my knee. A female hand. A hand that belonged to the professor that taught my 10AM Introduction to Biology class. Just sitting there, one thigh length away from my uncovered, aroused, and very wet pussy. With my heart beating double time and my breath coming in shallow gasps, I began to get light headed. Transitioning the focus of her gaze from my pussy to my face, the professor regarded my terrified countenance with an amused smile. -You always struck me as one of the more conservative dressers in your class. I -(TM)d have more expected this sort of outfit from Padita, if any of you. - Raising her eyes to look up to where Deeta was sitting, the professor gave her a little wave, causing Deeta to look down at the table in embarrassment. -Um --, - was my well thought out response. The professor clicked her tongue. -It -(TM)s often the shy ones you have to look out for, though, isn -(TM)t it?, - Professor Mayfield offered, turning towards the man walking beside her. Unlike the professor, he had only glanced at my crotch before moving on to look curiously at the women I shared a table with. -If you say so, dear. - From the response, I guessed he was her husband or partner. With a wistful look in her eye, the professor continued -Or maybe that -(TM)s bunk. I used to be quite the little nudist myself in my younger days, and I was never very shy, - A squeeze of my knee and a wink emphasized her point and she gave a small chuckle. -You were a nudist?, - I squeaked when I was able to find my voice again. -Well, not literally a nudist; I just preferred less clothes to more. I was an army brat and grew up moving around Europe with my parents. Beaches were often clothing optional and it was so warm in the summer that even the women rarely wore tops, especially around each other. Nudity and showing skin was a lot more accepted over there, unlike the US with its outdated, ancient puritanical views. - -I see, - was my only reply, feeling like I was as effective of a conversationalist as the wooden bench I was sitting on. The rest of the study group was silent, I think hoping to have their association with my over-exposed presence forgotten. The professor seemed comfortable carrying the whole dialogue by herself, however. -It sure was fun when I came over here to work on my masters and doctorate to shock some of the stick-up-their-ass Harvardians with a bit of -~accidental -(TM) flashing like you -(TM)re doing right now. Don -(TM)t you just adore the illicit thrill of being seen?, - she asked, putting heavy emphasis on the last word. Glancing at a male passerby on the other side of the street who was so temporarily dumbfounded by my exposure that he almost tripped over a fire hydrant, she gave me a smile and a raised eyebrow as if to say, -~see? -(TM) The whole discussion felt surreal to me, being ogled by random people while a respected adult sympathized with my overtly exhibited sexuality. The confusion I felt at the situation drove me to ask, -Uh, professor -- Aren -(TM)t you supposed to be yelling at me right now? Telling me to behave and to act more like a lady, or something? - The hand disappeared from my knee and the professor crossed her arms, looking up at me curiously. -Why would I? That doesn -(TM)t seem like a particularly educational stance for me to take. Young people are supposed to experiment and try outrageous things in life to prevent them from becoming rigid robots as they age. - -Um -- - -Let me guess: you had pretty strict parents, yes? - I nodded and she nodded in return. -Caged birds fly further when they are finally freed, or so they say. You can probably thank your uptight upbringing for the fact that you -(TM)re sitting with your chatte on display at a roadside patio. - -My -- shot? - -Chatte; it -(TM)s French for cat. Slang, really. I mean -~your cunt -(TM), darling. The one that just winked at me when I called it that. - And there I was, in freefall again, never more humiliated, never more turned on. Professor Mayfield -(TM)s husband must have seen the strained redness in my face or heard my whimper of indeterminate desperation, because he took pity on me. -Leave the poor girl alone, Delphine. She looks like she -(TM)s about ready to have a heart attack. - Professor Mayfield held up her hand and tilted her head in contrition. -Apologies, Ms. Hill. You probably don -(TM)t need one of your old professors dragging down your evening any longer -- no matter how intriguing the view from down here may be. - She winked at me again. -You seem a bit new to all of this so I -(TM)ll just let you know: my door is always open to students in need. I -(TM)m here to provide assistance to you all so you can shape yourselves into the people that you want to become -- whatever form that assistance might take. - -Thank you?, - I stated, though it sounded almost like a question when I said it. -Pas de soucis, Rebecca. But of course. It just so happens that I have a bit more experience in this particular area than most of the rest of the faculty, so it might be a bit of kismet that Stephen and I have a date night at La Chic up the road we passed by instead of someone else. Then again, that little bit of risk is part of the forbidden thrill of it all, no? - -To be honest, I -(TM)m a bit -- maybe a lot, terrified that campus security or the police will come by and my life will be ruined. - She waved off my concern as if it was nothing. -This is a college town. Do you think you -(TM)re the first student flashing their goodies for the fun of it? The uni gets at least a couple of streakers a week, with far more during rush or homecoming seasons. You -(TM)d get a talking to, probably. Perhaps a slap on the wrist or a small fine if you got caught by the wrong person, but not much more. If you keep enough clothes on to argue that your flashing was an accident, I -(TM)d be surprised if you even get that. They can -(TM)t even call those mean parents of yours without your consent as you -(TM)re no longer a minor. - Unexpectedly, my thoughts drifted back to the scenarios I had imagined on the walk to the bar when Sasha had asked me what I envisioned my complete public exposure as looking like. My naked photos spread far and wide, being forced to streak, and pose, and present my student body to the student body. Only, now, there were no consequences. Well, no consequences other than my complete and utter humiliation and the total loss of respect for me as a person by everyone I had ever met or would ever meet. Glancing at her phone, Professor Mayfield announced, -Well, our reservation time is coming up, ladies, so I will bid you adieu. Monique, Padita, Nicole: it was a pleasure to see you all. You miss, - she looked at Sasha, -aren -(TM)t in any of my classes but, judging by the company that keeps you, I -(TM)m sure that you are a delight as well. Rebecca, my dear, it was so lovely to see all of you. - I blushed at her implication but she leaned in to share one final thought, quietly, but still loud enough for the table to hear. -Just a suggestion for you in your exhibitionist adventures: the unicorn panties clash with the ensemble. Get yourself something lacy or sheer if you must, but I would recommend simply going without. - With a mischievous wink and smile and a final pat to my bare knee, the professor took her partner -(TM)s arm and they walked off down the street without looking back. Silence reigned at the table as everyone waited to judge everyone else -(TM)s mood before speaking. -Well, - started Deeta cautiously, -that just happened. - -That was not at all the conversation I expected to occur, given the circumstances, - Sasha added. -Becca, are you alright?, - Nicky asked, reaching across the table to touch my hand. -I -(TM)m fine, - I replied calmly and, surprisingly, I meant it this time. Looking truly apologetic, Monique added on, -I -(TM)m so sorry, Bex. When I did the thing with your undies I had no idea that a teacher was- - Her apology trailed off when I reached down beneath the table and tugged the elastic band of my panties out from under the waistband of my skirt before pulling my one remaining undergarment down to my bare feet and then off completely. Holding them by the edge of a leg hole, which was one of the few dry spots on the well used garment, I brought them up and sat them on the bench between myself and Monique. Four sets of eyes stared at me in shock. -What?, - I asked innocently. -The professor told me to take them off, so I have to. Right? - Sasha chuckled at this and Nicky rolled her eyes. Smiling broadly, Monique jumped onboard immediately. -Yep, no choice. Stripping on command is in your nature. - She looked lost in thought for a moment, tapping her finger on her lips, and then dug in her bag for her wallet. Pulling a credit card from it, she passed it to Deeta and pointed at the electronic menu on the table that could be used to call the waitstaff or to pay the bill. -Take care of the check, D. I have an idea for Bex, but we might need to get out of here in a hurry if she goes along with it. - This statement drew a shrug from Deeta but filled me with dread. What kind of idea would mean that we might have to flee from the restaurant? -Bex, pick up those panties again and then spin to your left so you -(TM)re straddling the bench, - she commanded me, silently nudging Sasha to stand up from the seat behind her. While Monique moved to the other end of the table-length bench and got out her phone camera, I picked up my underwear again and then hesitantly lifted my leg up to do as she asked. Once done, I was sitting with a leg on each side of the bench facing Monique. With my skirt tucked in, and my underwear freshly removed, there was no barrier between my naked pussy and Monique -(TM)s camera lens and I shivered at the thought. -Perfect! I can see your naked butt on the seat. Spread your legs as much as you can. There you go! Now lean back against the railing and hold those panties up. Higher. Higher still. Beautiful! - Deeta finished paying at the table kiosk and then the table watched in rapt attention while I allowed myself to be put on my most lurid display yet. Directly in front of me, Monique happily snapped away with her phone for a moment before lowering her phone. -You know, we -(TM)ve seen tits, and we -(TM)ve seen vag, but we haven -(TM)t seen the whole package yet. Why don -(TM)t we just take care of checking that final box now. - Her vague order was delivered as casually as a suggestion to move a couch a bit to the right so that it fit into the pattern of a room a bit better. Just get essentially naked outside of a restaurant that -(TM)s not far from where you live. Just a minor thing, no big deal. Doing my level best not to turn my head so that I didn -(TM)t have to see how the rest of the group or, God forbid, the patrons of the restaurant, might be looking at me, I revealed the last hidden bit of myself. With my shaking left hand, I pulled the tucked ends of the shawl to the side in my skirt waistband to give me slack and then let the garment fall to the side of my breasts. -Nice, - I heard Deeta comment to the side, but my focus was on Monique and the constant flashes of her phone. -Smile, B. Everyone can see you -(TM)re loving this. Your snatch is drooling on the bench. - Attempting to force a smile on my face, I wasn -(TM)t sure whether I succeeded or whether I just presented the camera with my most pleasant grimace. There really wasn -(TM)t any more I could do to show enthusiasm with as much anxiety as was coursing through my veins. Then, an idea came to me and I acted on it before I could stop myself, flinging my sodden panties back over my shoulder into the street behind me. Did I throw them into some unlucky passerby -(TM)s face? Did they splat on some stranger -(TM)s car windshield, leaving a greasy smear? Did a dozen people watch in horror as I made my blind toss? I had no idea, and not knowing scared me so much that I almost came on the spot. The idea of throwing away one of my few remaining articles of clothing while so far away from any sort of privacy made me feel like the bench beneath me was vibrating and I moaned quietly while Monique continued to document my utter foolishness. As far as my outfit for the day was concerned, my shirt, bra, panties, and two socks were now gone, with one miniaturized skirt, a borrowed shawl, and two distant shoes remaining. It wasn -(TM)t clear to me whether I was rooting to be dressed at the end of the night or to be completely laid bare before those who knew me best. It -(TM)s not my place to decide, I rationalized. I am a feather at the mercy of the wind. -Gals, we gotta go, - Nicky suddenly hissed. All of our eyes turned to the door of the bar where a woman who looked like a manager was standing, talking to a waitress that was pointing in our direction. In unison, we all hopped up and grabbed our stuff, moving calmly yet quickly towards the exit. In an act of mercy for which I will be eternally grateful, Monique paused a step to reach back and tug the front of my skirt free so that it fell down over my now bare pussy. Taking this as temporary permission to cover up during our escape, I pulled the shawl tight across my chest as well, looking sheepishly at the bar employees and patrons as if to apologize for forcing them to view my shameful lady parts. The patio had a one way gate leading to stairs down to the street so we filed out that way, purposefully avoiding the manager and waitress who monitored our departure with their eyes narrowed in displeasure. Once on the street, Sasha led us left, then right at the next pair of intersections before we slowed from our fast walk and paused under a streetlamp in front of a closed donut shop. Monique had lagged behind but caught up at this point. Now, separated from the potential dangers of the angry Speedway staff, we all formed a loose circle and looked around the group to gauge each other -(TM)s reactions. Deeta was the first to start giggling and, feeling slightly off my rocker, I soon joined her; the rest of the group followed behind immediately after. -Becca -- Baby B --. Bestie -- You -(TM)re frigging nutso. Did you know that?, - Nicky asked, still fighting back laughter. Slapping me on the back, Deeta came to my defense. -This bad bitch has bigger balls than ninety nine percent of the men I -(TM)ve met. - Glancing at me sideways, a big smile plastered across her face, and she added, -And MUCH nicer boobs, too. - When I started laughing, I had hunched forward a bit and put my hands on my thighs to hold me up, but this meant I had also let go of the shawl. Leaned forward as I was, I realized that this meant that anyone to my sides would have an unobstructed view of my breasts hanging off my chest. Straightening up, I blushed and looked away from Deeta, but made no effort to tuck my shawl tighter into my skirt waist, stoically keeping my hands at my sides. She must have noticed as she began making a game of flicking the edge of the shawl to see if she could get it to expose me further as I did my best to protect myself solely by turning or walking away. The others laughed along with this contest, even going as far as beginning to root for Deeta or I as she followed me in circles, glowing in embarrassment, around the other three members of the group, batting at my shawl, or the bottom of my skirt. After a few moments of Deeta not getting very far, Sasha glanced at the time and sighed. -Not to be a buzzkill, ladies, but as fun as this evening has been for us, and doubly so for Becca, I -(TM)m sure, it -(TM)s getting late and we should probably get back. - This drew grumbles from Nicky and Monique and a raspberry from Deeta, but the group acquiesced and started moving in the general direction of Monique -(TM)s house. At this time of night, the streets were mostly quiet, and now I was mostly covered anyway, so the journey back was much less eventful than the walk to the bar. Fatigue must have truly been setting in at this point as there was little chatter between us outside of the occasional, -Hey, do you remember the look on that guy -(TM)s face when Becca -- - type comment, reminiscing about events that had only just occurred minutes or hours ago. Three blocks after we started walking, the wind managed to blow the left side of the shawl off my shoulder, and my left breast came completely free. Still full of adrenaline, I said nothing and made no move to re-cover myself, but it was a full half a minute before Sasha, the closest walker to me, became the first to notice. Without saying anything to the rest of the group, she gave me a small smile but kept glancing at my face and my chest as we walked. I couldn -(TM)t quite interpret the look on her face as she watched me but it seemed almost -- jealous? It wasn -(TM)t long until Deeta noticed as well and called a halt to our walking, eying my body with a hungry look. Glancing up and down the dark side street we were on to confirm there were no other pedestrians, she approached to stand just in front of me. -Bex, if you want to go tits out, you might as well do it right, - she chided with a teasing look, framing it as if I had done this on purpose. Wait, had I done this on purpose? It had just -- happened, and I had not fixed it. That wasn -(TM)t the same thing, right? Grabbing the shawl from around my neck, she removed it completely, taking a moment to examine my breasts up close, but just with her eyes. Without being asked to do so, my mind played a scene of Deeta leaning down to take one of my nipples into her mouth to lick and suck on, and my knees suddenly felt weak. Meanwhile, the real Deeta kept a respectful distance. Once she was satisfied with ogling my bare chest, she twisted the shawl into more of a scarf and hung it around the back of my neck again, crossing it in front of my neck, well above my boobs, and then feeding it under my arms. She then pulled each of my wrists back behind me and put one end of the shawl in each of my hands before stepping back to admire her work. The effect was simple. Nothing covered my breasts, and the way the shawl was threaded kept my arms back and my chest thrust out. This went beyond just exposure; in this position I was inviting the world to look at me. Smiling and puffed up as she was, Deeta definitely looked proud of her work. -Let -(TM)s do a test. Let go of the shawl and lift your arms a bit. - I did so and the shawl fell down and unfurled naturally, covering both of my breasts as it did so. -Perfect!, - she exclaimed before twisting the shawl and pulling it behind my back again. -There, you can stay this way -~til we get back. You -(TM)re not to let go of the ends of that shawl unless you see an angry authority figure running at you. - Until we get back. We were still fifteen minutes from Monique -(TM)s house; with that far to go, we were bound to pass at least a few people on the way. My head swam at the possibilities and my heart started racing again. This couldn -(TM)t possibly be a good idea, could it? Fifteen minutes. It -(TM)s only fifteen minutes. You can do this, I encouraged myself in my head. The idea of walking alongside a topless woman obviously didn -(TM)t concern any of the other women as much as it did me, and none of them took issue with Deeta -(TM)s plan. Quite the opposite, Monique even decided to pile on to my hesitation. -I wonder --, - she announced cryptically, moving behind me, I felt a tug on my skirt as the back was pulled up and out repeatedly. Monique kept lifting, twisting, and tugging until the entire bottom hem of the already ridiculously short skirt had raised several inches and all of the slack in the fabric had been bundled up in the back. I felt her press the bundle into one of my hands alongside one end of the shawl and then she joined Deeta in front to appraise me. Nodding their heads and grinning like madwomen, they fistbumped and pulled out their cameras to take pictures. Gulping down my anxiety, I looked down at my front for the first time since Deeta stopped the group and confirmed that what I feared to be true was my new reality. While I was technically still wearing the shawl and my skirt, neither was covering anything relevant any longer. My breasts were uncovered and thrust forward and my pussy was on complete display, from pubic hair to perineum. Sure, I could just let go with my hands and I would theoretically be -~fully -(TM) covered again, but I knew that wasn -(TM)t going to happen unless we had an emergency. A few hours previously I had been scared of the idea of showing this small group of my friends my underwear. Now, I was essentially naked on a public street, my pussy dripping down my leg and my nipples pointing forward in steely hardness, all in horrible anticipation of the journey ahead. Fifteen minutes, I repeated in my head. Just survive the next fifteen minutes. Putting their phones away, Deeta commented, -Bex, you are sex on two legs, girl. How have you not found some boy or girl to scoop you up and treat you like the queen you are? - -Because you can -(TM)t get hit on if you don -(TM)t leave the house, - Nicky chimed in. -I -(TM)ve been telling her for years, but her mom and dad have convinced her that she -(TM)s a delicate flower that would get bent by the first breeze that came by if she goes outside. - -I would definitely bend her over --, - Deeta whispered out loud, causing me to stare at her in open mouthed shock. When she noticed, she looked shocked herself and she shoved a hand over her mouth, but then pulled it away grinning and staring at me. -Holy shit, I did not mean for other people to hear that. I guess I did think it really loudly though... I guess that -(TM)s just something for you to consider, - she teased, running a finger down my bare arm and giving me goosebumps. There was absolutely no chance that I would be able to somehow not consider it. Probably while touching myself in my dorm room later. What the hell was she doing to my head? Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes. The thought gave me strength to continue standing. Deeta didn -(TM)t push on her offer, though, instead choosing to head off down the street, waving for everyone else to follow along. -Let -(TM)s keep heading back, ladies. Remember, Becca here is embarrassingly nude, so we should probably not dawdle. - Looking confused, Monique called to Deeta, -Yo, D, my place is left, not straight. - Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Deeta spun without stopping walking and replied, -I know, I -(TM)m just taking the scenic route. Should only add a few minutes. Ten or twenty at most. - Fifteen min- wait, what? Whimpering, I followed after, moving further and further away from safety rather than closer to it, the wet squishing sound of my thighs rubbing together as I walked ringing like bells in my ears.