"Stop staring up my skirt, you dirty old man!"
The words made Jonathan Brown's blood run cold. He'd been grading the essay questions from the first exam for his Introductory Honors course at the University of Alabama, Birmingham. He loved teaching these Honors sections; the students were very bright and engaged, and the classes always had interesting topics they were built around. The course he was teaching this semester was titled "It's the End of the World as We Know It", and it focused on apocalyptic film and literature.
The only part about teaching he hated was grading tests. Multiple-choice tests are easy; they can be machine graded. But an Honors course cried out for essay questions, giving students a chance to work through a scenario, and to practice their writing skills. Reading several hundred essays, though, could quickly put one to sleep. There was a sameness to most of the answers that became mind-numbing.
That's where Jonathan had been just a few minutes earlier. He was about halfway through the pile, reading an essay that was pointing out the corollaries between Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" and the New Testament's Book Of Revelation. This student's writing wasn't particularly bad, but he'd read all this before, and his brain was shutting down. He thought it was time to call it a day and turn in for the night. Suddenly, in the middle of a paragraph, apropos of nothing, was that sentence:
"Stop staring up my skirt, you dirty old man!"
He snapped to, his brain no longer in a fog. What the hell was that? He quickly read through the rest of the paragraph, hoping that sentence fit in to the point the student was making. But it didn't. The sentence before, and the one after, fit together. That sentence had just been stuck in there, a message to him.
Jonathan flipped to the first page to see whose test this was. Suellen Parker. Now he felt a little nauseous. Because, while the class had been taking this test, he had, in fact, been staring up Suellen Parker's skirt. A lot.
Jonathan had taught thousands of students over the years, and he was quite sure he'd never had one named Suellen before. She was pretty enough, as an awful lot of twenty-something's are; thin, taller than average, with long brown hair. She sat on the front row, but had so far done little to engage in the class discussions. She dressed in conservative, nondescript clothing, seeming to want to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Until last Monday, the day of the first test.
Suellen Parker had come to class that day wearing one of the shortest skirts Jonathan had ever seen a student wear. If she had so much as shrugged her shoulders while she was standing, she would have exposed herself. Jonathan is only human; he couldn't help but look.
He had noticed for the first time what a tight body Suellen had. She usually wore baggy jeans or sweatsuits, but Jonathan saw now that she was very fit, and had an amazing set of legs. Nope; something past amazing; phenomenal; world-class!
She had a short torso, so her legs were disproportionately long, very lean, and muscular. She was either a runner or a weightlifter. Jonathan had a deep appreciation for a fine pair of legs. His wife, Julie Murphy, who was a math professor at UAB, was over six feet tall, and had pretty amazing legs herself. But Suellen's were simply magnificent!
The students filtered in, Jonathan passed the tests out, and sat down at the table at the front of the room. He never sat here except on test day; typically, he sat on top of the table, or walked around the room. Today, from this new vantage point, he found himself looking straight at Suellen Parker's barely covered pussy.
He could hardly be faulted. Her skirt covered nothing, and she sat with her legs parted; not spread so wide that it was noticeable, but wide enough to give anybody in front of her—Jonathan—a nice view. She was wearing yellow panties. He couldn't be sure, but would have guessed it was a thong, because there was such a thin piece of fabric covering her sex. She had either shaved, or at least trimmed, her cunt, since there was no evidence of any hair.
Jonathan was absolutely mesmerized. He kept telling himself to look away, and he would momentarily, but his eyes kept returning. He pulled out his phone and pretended to be looking at it, but he stared hard at Suellen Parker's yellow thong-covered pussy for a solid hour. She never looked up, never showed any sign that she knew he was looking; but she also never moved a muscle the entire time. She sat there, with her legs spread, showing herself to her professor.
He kept reading that sentence, over and over:
"Stop staring up my skirt, you dirty old man!"
So she had known that he was looking. But was she angry, or teasing him? She had written her essays in pencil, and there was a small mark above the exclamation point that had been badly smudged. Was that a smiley face? It might be; lord, that would change everything. There was nothing else embedded in any of her essays, nor anything written on her copy of the test. Jonathan decided that she probably wasn't angry, and even if she was, there wasn't anything he could do about it now.
His brain fog was long gone, so he powered through the rest of the tests. Suellen got a 98, and he was glad that she had done so well. He was also sure that she had not gotten any favoritism from him; he had already graded most of her essays before he got to the one with the hidden message. She seemed very bright, providing keen analysis in well-crafted prose.
Jonathan always wrote a word or two of praise at the top of the exams of the students who got an A on each test, but he wrote a longer note than usual to Suellen:
"Great job, Suellen! Very provocative essays! Keep up the good work!"
He chose the words carefully. There was a subtle double-meaning, but nothing too blatant. He knew there was a very low likelihood that anybody but the two of them would ever see this test, but he didn't want to take any chances. The last thing he did before going to class the next day was to take a picture of her essay. He wanted to preserve that sentence.
"Stop staring up my skirt, you dirty old man!"
He saw Suellen walk in to the classroom, and noticed that her baggy attire had returned. When he passed the test back, he watched her to see if she reacted to his comment, but she gave no sign that she even saw it. Over the next few weeks, she continued to dress conservatively, but Jonathan was pleased to see that her engagement in discussions ramped up. He was glad for her sake, but it was a positive change for the class, too. She was smart, providing insightful analysis and a unique perspective.
As it got closer to the time for the second test, Jonathan was getting more and more anxious, wondering what, if anything, Suellen would do this time. He realized that it was likely that her actions during the first test were a one-off, and nothing would happen. But he was hopeful.
His heart started racing as soon as he spotted her that morning. It had moved deeper into the fall season, and the weather had cooled, so she was not dressed as provocatively as before. But Suellen Parker still looked amazing. She was wearing a pink sweater that was stretched tautly across her firm tits, and it was very apparent that she was braless. Her nipples were erect and on full display. She wore a light grey skirt, longer than before, but still quite short. Her legs were bare, and Jonathan was reminded of how flawless they were.
It seemed like she came prepared to play, and he couldn't wait for the test to start. He wanted to see what she would do today. He passed out the exams, and took his seat at the table, directly in front of Suellen. And he got the shock of his life!
She had crossed her legs, but not knee over knee; her left ankle rested on her right knee. Her skirt hem draped over the horizontal line of her left leg, but just barely. To anyone not directly in front of her, it appeared that her skirt was covering the opening between her thighs. But from the front, she had opened herself up to Jonathan's gaze. And gaze he did.
Suellen Parker was not wearing panties today! Jonathan found himself staring directly at her naked pussy. And it was magnificent! She was completely hairless, and her position had opened up her cunt, spreading her lips so that Jonathan could see the pink interior of her vagina. He could make out the bud of her clit peeking out from under her hood, and her labia glistened, presumably from her nascent arousal. Jonathan was certainly aroused, and was finding it difficult to sit still in his chair.
This was clearly deliberate; she knew exactly what she was doing. Once again, Jonathan got out his phone and pretended to scroll through his social media pages, but his eyes were locked on the beautiful bare pussy of Suellen Parker. And, once again, she never looked at him, never betrayed any hint that she knew what he was doing, and never changed her position during the entire time.
Jonathan was glad she wasn't doing this to him on a day when he would be teaching the class. He knew that he would barely be able to speak, let alone try to follow a thought to any sort of coherent conclusion. At the end of the hour, he gathered the tests and practically ran back to his office. He needed to see if she had left him another message. He dug her test out of the pile and started reading.
He found two of them this time. In her second essay, he found this sentence randomly inserted:
"Do you see something you like, you perv?"
Jonathan smiled. She was playing with him, clearly enjoying this. He didn't know if their game would lead to anything beyond this back and forth, but it was fun, and now he felt safe. This would stay between the two of them. Feeling bolder, he decided to reply. She had written her answers in pencil again, so he drew a sort of smiley face in the margin next to her message, also in pencil. He widened the eyes, and exaggerated the mouth into an open expression of surprise.
