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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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8 O'clock Class
by OddManOut (oddman0ut@hotmail.com)

***

A college student likes to feel-up the sleepy girl 
sitting next to him in class. (MF, sleepy)

***

Dr. Ivan Jokanovich is a world-class researcher in the 
field of high-energy plasma physics. This year, the 
University pulled in $4 million in licensing fees for 
processes he developed here. Last year, he was invited 
to present his research at four international 
symposiums, all travel and expense fees waived. 

Whenever he does present his research, the lecture hall 
is inevitably packed to overflowing with physicists from 
every school and company within a hundred-mile radius. 
It is even rumored that he may be a candidate for a 
Nobel Prize this year.

Unfortunately, his Modern Physics class is a morning 
one. And not just *any* morning class, either. Physics 
94 with Jokanovich meets at 8:00 sharp for one hour 
every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

"I didn't want to schedule the class so that you would 
have to drop it because of conflicts," he told us with a 
wide grin on the first day, "So I scheduled it in the 
morning, when the other classes don't meet. That way, no 
conflicts." 

Actually, he was only half-right. Some students who 
still managed to be in athletics had practices from 7:00 
until 8:30. "You should count yourselves lucky. When I 
was teaching in Moscow, classes started at 6:30. For 
everyone. Here in America..." He shrugged. A 
heartwarming tale, to be sure, but most of us still 
didn't count ourselves lucky.

I stayed in the class for three reasons. First of all, I 
was interested in modern physics. Second of all, I 
needed to take an intermediate physics course to satisfy 
my science requirements, and Physics 94 had the least 
homework. Most importantly, Julie Mason was taking the 
class, and I wanted to have some excuse to look at her 
at least three times a week. 

One month later (and a week after the drop date), Julie 
let me know in no uncertain terms that she preferred me 
as an acquaintance, I had no clue what "time dilation" 
meant, and it was announced that the science 
requirements were being changed at my school so that 
Physics 94 would be unnecessary. Just my luck.

I was about to stop going to class altogether, except 
that Julie wasn't the only pretty girl in the class. 
There was another girl whose name I didn't know, who 
typically sat one or two rows in front of me at every 
lecture. She would typically come to class, get a copy 
of the lecture notes, spend the first fifteen minutes 
taking notes and the rest of the class time asleep in 
her chair. I never saw her outside the TA's office, so I 
assumed that the arrangement must have been working for 
her.

When I wasn't fighting off sleep myself, I could watch 
this girl sleep at my leisure. Her head would be tilted 
to one side, and her body would be slouched down, as 
completely relaxed as she could be in a lecture hall 
chair. When her head was tilted towards me, I would try 
as nonchalantly as I could to see if I could look down 
her T-shirt to her medium-sized breasts. 

When she tilted away, I would study the cords of her 
long, slender neck, and the profile of her cheekbone 
against her face. She typically wore shorts or a skirt, 
which allowed me to appraise her legs as well. They were 
very pale and smooth, and were marked by freckles just 
beneath the part that her shorts covered. I often 
wondered if those freckles continued all the way up her 
legs, or if they even spotted her mound.

With Julie now out of the way, I resolved to get to know 
this girl a little better. I decided to hang around 
outside class one day until I saw her go inside. I 
followed, and took a seat next to hers before class 
started. She smiled at me, but was rather curt when I 
asked her how she was doing, and I got the impression 
that she wasn't comfortable with me sitting so close to 
her. Nevertheless, after class started, she was only 
able to take notes for half an hour before drifting off 
to sleep again.

I gave her fifteen minutes to get into a deep slumber, 
then I dropped my pencil on the floor. As I reached down 
to get it, I "accidentally" brushed my arm against her 
calf and checked to see what her reaction was. When she 
didn't move, I moved my hand back and placed it on her 
lower leg. She stirred a little, but didn't open her 
eyes. I wanted to do more, but I had already been 
"looking for my pencil" for about ten seconds, and I 
didn't want to attract attention.

I sat back up in my seat, and continued to take notes, 
glancing backwards to see if anyone was staring at me in 
shock. I was the one who was shocked. Over half the 
class was slumped in their chairs, dead to the world, 
while the remaining students were doing their best to 
follow along with the professor. I noticed one nice-
looking blonde who was asleep in her seat, and made a 
mental note to sit near her sometime in the future.

Satisfied that no one was watching what I was doing, I 
gently eased my hand over to my sleeping paramour's 
thigh and rested it there gently. She didn't seem to 
notice, so I stroked her bare leg softly with my hand, 
watching her face very closely to make sure she didn't 
wake up. 

Her skin was warm, and a little stubbly—she must not 
have had time to shave before coming to class this 
morning. The inside of her thigh was warmer, but I was 
unable to explore this further, as her legs were closed, 
and I didn't want to risk waking the girl up by wedging 
my hand into her crotch.

I continued to stroke her thigh for the next ten 
minutes, then removed my hand as the professor concluded 
his lecture. The sound of people getting up and leaving 
roused my redhead from her slumber, and she stretched 
her arms out, giving me a very nice view of her breasts 
being lifted upwards and outwards.

"Did I miss anything while I was asleep?" she asked me. 
Although tempted to see her reaction to an honest 
answer, I merely told her that nothing had been said 
that wasn't in the course reader (I hoped-- I hadn't 
been paying attention either). That seemed to satisfy 
her, so she thanked me, turned and left. I would have 
gotten up and followed her, except that I was feeling 
conscious of the huge erection I had. I raced home on my 
bike and beat off quickly, knowing I would need to 
relieve the pressure right then rather than carry it 
through the day.

**

Two days later, I sat next to my redhead once more, and 
learned that her name was Shirley before she fell asleep 
once again, twenty minutes into the class. I looked 
around again to make sure that no one was watching us, 
and this time I immediately eased my hand onto her 
thigh. Shirley was fast asleep, and didn't wake up to 
stop me when I stroked her leg softly.

I would have liked to feel her breasts, but that would 
have meant putting my hand out in the open where 
everyone could see. Instead I decided to something 
really daring. After ten minutes of subtly stroking her 
thigh, I eased my hand into Shirley's lap and, paying 
close attention to her closed eyelids, eased open the 
button and zipper on her shorts. It was slow work, and I 
needed to pause occasionally to keep up the appearance 
of taking notes, but after a few minutes, I had managed 
to open her shorts enough to slip my hand inside and 
stroke her soft panties.

As I was building up the nerve to slip my hand beneath 
her underwear, Shirley began to toss slightly. I froze, 
terrified with my hand still against her crotch, as I 
watched her yawn, roll a little bit to her side, then 
settle back in to sleep. Spooked, I slipped my hand 
away, closed her shorts, and tried to take notes for the 
rest of class.

My close call kept me from repeating my excursions for a 
while, but I continued to sit near Shirley, waiting to 
get up the courage once again. I also occasionally sat 
next to Jean, the blonde sleeper I had noticed earlier. 
Jean would be trickier to grope, as she usually sat next 
to friends who stayed attentive in class. I wouldn't be 
able to do anything with them around.

I may have been spooked by Shirley's tossing, but I 
decided to return to her thighs the day I first saw her 
wear a skirt to class. As soon as Shirley fell asleep 
that day, my pencil fell to the floor, and as I bent to 
retrieve it, I spread her legs slightly. Before I 
returned to my seat, I took a good look right up her 
skirt at her cream colored panties, veiled by her 
nylons. 

For most of the class, Shirley slept with her skirt 
bunched up around her thighs, and one of my hands busy 
on her legs. I was able to splay her legs apart a little 
further, and used the opportunity to run my hand slowly 
over her clothed mound, taking care not to poke or 
stimulate Shirley into wakefulness. I smoothed down her 
skirt as class ended, and watched her as she woke up.

Shirley was slightly flushed as she got up to leave, and 
I wondered what she might have been dreaming about while 
I played with her thighs.

**

The next time Shirley came to class, I noticed that she 
was wearing a skirt again, and that this skirt was about 
two inches shorter than the last one, with no nylons. As 
soon as I was sure she was asleep, I was surreptitiously 
lifting it up her thighs. This skirt was slit up the 
side, and I was able to slide my hand up to her pussy 
easily in the next minute.

I held my hand in its position for a few minutes, 
feeling her heat while I allowed her to become 
accustomed to the feel of my hand on her pussy, then I 
crooked a finger and slowly slid it beneath her panties. 
Her slit was warm and soft, but not wet. I decided to 
see if I could change that situation, so I started to 
wiggle my finger very slowly.

For a minute or two, I got no reaction from Shirley for 
my ministrations. I was about to stop, as my hand was 
beginning to ache from its unusual position, when 
Shirley sighed slightly in her sleep, and spread her 
legs a little wider. This encouraged me to continue for 
a little bit longer, and I was rewarded when I finally 
felt her juices begin to flow.

I coated my finger with her fluids, and eased it 
slightly up into her folds. I was trying not to call 
outside attention to myself by staring directly at the 
middle of my textbook and scribbling disjointed notes. 
Meanwhile, my left hand, concealed behind the desk, was 
slipping its way into the pretty girl next to me. I was 
almost able to get my middle finger in to the second 
knuckle before I was forced to stop.

Shirley hummed quietly in her sleep, and her muscles 
contracted about my finger. I guessed that I was giving 
her some very pleasant dreams. I began to slide my 
finger in and out of her slowly, mimicking what I 
guessed Shirley's dream lover might be doing to her. Her 
legs parted a little more when I did this, and I found 
that I could now get better penetration with my finger. 
The professor droned on, oblivious to what we were doing 
below the desk.

Shirley's juices began to flow a little faster, so I 
compensated by increasing the pressure of my stroking. I 
wanted to move faster as well, but the rapid jerking of 
my arm might have called unwanted attention to us. My 
finger pushed firmly against the walls of her vulva as I 
slowly pressed it in and out.

I felt Shirley squeeze herself again, a little harder 
than the last time, and I decided it was time to remove 
my finger. It was fun to masturbate Shirley as she 
slept, but I was sure that letting her to come to orgasm 
would both wake her up and bring the attention of 
others. I slid my finger from her slit and began to 
smooth down her panties. 

Shirley's hips moved forward towards my hand, trying to 
bring back the pleasure I was giving her. Fighting off 
the urge to return my hand, I smoothed her skirt back 
down her legs quietly, then took my hand away. I stuck 
my finger in my mouth and cleaned it off quickly to 
remove the Shirley's scent from my hand. My finger 
tasted slightly musky and heady, a flavor very much like 
saffron.

Next to me, Shirley rolled from side to side quietly, 
obviously disturbed by the sudden disappearance of her 
dream lover. I placed my hand back on her thigh gently 
to see if it would quiet her. The response I got was not 
what I expected. 

Still sleeping, Shirley crossed her left leg over her 
right, trapping my hand between her thighs. When I 
gently tried to remove my hand, she stirred slightly, 
and started to wake up. I immediately relaxed my arm and 
stroked her thigh with my thumb, and she relaxed again, 
sinking into the chair.

I looked at the clock and choked back my panic. There 
was only five minutes left in class. If Shirley woke up 
and found my hand sandwiched between her legs, I had no 
doubt that her reaction would be anything less than 
severe, regardless of what she had been dreaming about. 
If I tried to pull my hand away now, the sensation would 
wake her up, and I would be found out. If I tried to 
reach over and lift her leg with my free hand, the rest 
of the class would see what I was doing.

Shirley continued to sleep as I frantically thought of 
how I might get my hand out from her legs. Suddenly, I 
got an idea. I dropped my pencil so that it would roll 
past Shirley's legs. I got out of my chair and kneeled 
down to retrieve it, trying my best to hide the fact 
that my hand was trapped. When I was completely beneath 
the desk, I slid my free hand back up Shirley's skirt 
and lightly ran my fingertips over her mound again. 
Feeling this new stimulation, Shirley relaxed her legs 
slightly, and I slipped my hand away.

With just a few minutes left in the class, I eased my 
way back up in the chair and returned to a pretense of 
taking notes. Shirley was rubbing her legs together in 
her sleep, trying to bring back my hand. As the class 
ended, she woke up, and gave me an embarrassed look as 
she put away her class notes. I didn't know why she was 
embarrassed until I saw her get up to leave. On the back 
of her skirt was a small wet mark from her juices that 
had flown during her sleep. As we left the classroom, I 
noticed that she headed straight for the women's room.

**

After that day, Shirley never wore a skirt to class 
again, but I would always sit next to her and idly 
stroke her legs as she slept. We didn't make much small 
talk, and I never asked her out. At the end of the 
semester, just after taking the final, I found a piece 
of candy hidden in my bag with a note wrapped around it. 
"Thanks for keeping my legs relaxed in class."

I guess Shirley had known more than I thought.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 69