15. Changing Clothes (3)
It was still early morning, so the lecture hall was naturally empty. Up front was a green chalkboard and a podium with a large monitor connected to the computer. Behind it, rows of desks stretched out, each with its own monitor perched on top. In dramas or movies, university classrooms often sloped upward toward the back in a slight arc facing the podium, but this local uni was different—aside from the computers, it was just like a high school classroom. Boxy room, authoritarian professor, the whole package.
Standing here in a space where I always attended classes normally, slipping naughty toys inside me... hot breaths kept escaping me. The dorm had been all about lewd stuff since day one, so I never hesitated there even on regular days. But the lecture hall felt like it was tainting my everyday life with something illicit and taboo. And even that sensation feels good. Well... what kind of normal life does a pervert like me have anyway? Everyday life is perversion. Right?
I step onto the podium I've never climbed before. It's just half a flight of stairs high, but my view rises, and the entire lecture hall comes into sharp focus—every corner. If it were full of people... the whole department would see me. They'd know about the rotor under my panties and despise me as a pervert. They might even hear the buzzing. "Hnnng..." Just imagining it is horrifying, my future pitch black, but it feels so good too. My body's reacting—my inner thighs are soaked. I just put on a fresh liner... and it's already drenched. At this rate, it'll seep through my pants. A dark stain would give me away for real... Getting caught would feel amazing, but not by department folks. They'd look at me strangely until graduation—with contempt or dismissal. That would feel good. ...Am I insane? I can't get caught, idiot.
I set my eco-bag on the podium desk and peek inside. Thank goodness, I brought extras. Gotta change before anyone shows. A normal person would head straight to the bathroom, but not me. Class is still over an hour away... If I swap quick before anyone comes, who would know?
Every glance around the room tightens my chest a little more. Uncontainable excitement and tension fill my head. No one's here, so... maybe it's okay? The button at my waist pops free. Damp air rushes out from inside my skinny jeans. I tug them down a bit and place my hand over my panties. The outside isn't soaked yet, but it feels like liquid sloshes inside. No way it is, but I imagine the drenched interior. One slip and it'll splash my clothes. But no one's coming anyway... And if I'm doing stuff in the lecture hall, why not make it a little more thrilling? I'm changing, so I'll be naked. That's all. I'm a pervert, but stripping to change clothes isn't weird, right? I soothe my pounding heart like that and immediately yank off my knit top.
My red bruises peek out, unhidden by my bra, and my panties flash to the empty lecture hall. On the podium, where all eyes would focus. I strip off the skinny jeans next, letting them pool at my feet. As I lift my legs to step out, my crotch sloshes. I know it's not real, but it feels that way. I neatly fold the inside-out knit and jeans, placing them on the desk, then smooth my staticky hair. All the while, my bra and panties are fully exposed. Even the pink string of the rotor peeking from my panties sways in the air. I know it's faster to change everything at once... but just stripping feels unsatisfying...
Only after fixing my hair do I unhook my bra. My soft breasts spill free. My slightly pudgy belly, pale shoulders, stiff nipples—all bare, uncovered. Haha, what an idiot. This is where I take classes every day... and I'm doing lewd shit. My nipples quiver against the cool air. I glance around. The space I see daily stares right back. My hands go to my waist. The tiniest scrap covering me—I slip my thumbs inside the panties. The thin elastic digs into my knuckles. I slide the soft fabric down. It stretches elastically over my ass before snapping to my ankles. My breath thickens. Time freezes. I've disarmed the last barrier covering my body with my own hands. Suddenly, the air feels humid, and the rotor's bbbrrr buzz pierces my ears loudly. I yank the string, dialing it to zero. Finally, quiet.
Not even giving myself the option to cover with panties, I step out completely and place them inside-out prominently on my discarded clothes. Truly naked now. I used "changing clothes" as an excuse to go full nude. Pervert of perverts. The kind of thing a normal girl couldn't even imagine. People will arrive soon, in this crowded lecture hall where I always attend classes... and I'm naked. Lewd juices drip down my thighs in droplets. If people were here... I'm the only girl in the department, so it'd be packed with guys. What would they think seeing me? Stunned shock mixed with disbelief, eyes gleaming with lust. Or maybe someone reaching out to grab me and do whatever. At least one would whip out a phone for pics. Those photos would spread online unstoppable—"Nude Girl at Whatever University", the whole world seeing. Horrifying just to think. My vision blacks out. Good thing it's fantasy... but just a fantasy feels disappointing. I wish someone would see. Call me a pervert, it'd feel good. Hit me too...
I shake my head to scatter the thought. I pick up the discarded panties and slide them up to mid-thigh, attaching a fresh liner and egg rotor. Sticky, transparent fluid already trickles from my hole—wiping does nothing. Excited pussy keeps leaking; cleaning's pointless. I give up and pull the panties up. The hard foreign object presses against my pussy again. My fully exposed breasts in the bright lecture hall, the rotor snug against me—all feel so good. My whole body tingles like it's one big erogenous zone.
"Hnnnnght." A thin moan slips out. I cup my perky breast. First, aching pain, then soft stimulation as my hand trails, raising goosebumps. My hand grips hard, crushing the soft flesh like a man's rough grasp. Even without yesterday's bruises, it'd hurt, but it just feels good. No normal girl likes being grabbed this hard—only perverts like me. But rough feels better than gentle, what can I do? Satisfaction swells from deep inside, from the pain and thrill. My hand wants to slide lower, but I force it back. I'll just keep groping. Regretful, but time for self-control. I dress in reverse order. I want to stay naked, but to strip again, I need clothes first... Dressing takes seconds, unlike undressing. Poof—pervert gone, normal coed appears.
I roll up the soaked liner and toss it in the trash. Leaving proof of my perversion in a public spot anyone could enter. No one will dig or notice... but I know what's there. Knowing I shouldn't casually discard something incriminating makes my pussy gush. The fresh liner wets instantly. Even knowing discovery's unlikely. Thrill filling my chest, faint hope, baseless anxiety—they blend into ecstasy. Too sweet, too ecstatic. Can't get caught, mustn't... Head knows, but body defies—pure pleasure floods my mind. My waist trembles finely. Legs won't hold. I clutch the door and slump to the floor. This... this is addictive... Why does it feel so good? No clue. Just does.
"Student Im Ha-yoon?" Then, someone calls my name. How do they know it? Did they see everything...? Still crouched, I look up—the professor gazes down with concern.
"Oh, h-hello, Professor."
He was the department head leading our ambiguously named Smart Green Mechanical Engineering Department, an older prof students saw most often. I scramble up. Something dark stains my skinny jeans' corners, but no time to brush it off. His sharp eyes soften with worry, thin lips parted slightly from their usual firm line. Gray streaks his short, neat hair, matching his strict demeanor. Hands empty—not mid-commute.
"You okay? Sick?"
"N-no, just my legs went numb. Not sick."
His firm gaze scans me thoroughly. The rotor doesn't bulge my pants' crotch, right? Outfit not weird? He didn't see everything...? Thoughts race. But each time, the hard rotor presses insistently at my entrance. Before someone who knows me, every curve feels hyper-sensitive. Its presence grows. Good thing it's off... If on by mistake, I'd cum right in front of him. Even now it's intense; vibrating for real...
"Would've been awful. Glad you're fine." He smiles softly. "But Student Im Ha-yoon, you're here early? Class is over an hour away."
"I live in the dorm. Woke up early today."
"Hmm, makes sense. Our only girl student, and so diligent." Chatting with his smiling face right there, my pussy twitches. It clenches hard, seeking the egg rotor like it wants to swallow it.
"Do you always come in this early, Professor?"
I'd planned outings till later, assuming no one till then... Never dreamed I'd run into someone. Unexpected, my heart races.
"Usually. Old folks don't sleep in mornings, haha."
If he's always here... I was in real danger. Naked in the lecture hall just now... Vague tension and fear crash in. Dodged a bullet.
"Anyway, I've got prep. See you later."
"Y-yes... See you."
His steady steps echo—clack clack—fading. ...How did I miss that sound till now? How careless was I in excitement? But... seems I didn't get caught...? If he had, as a man, he'd blackmail or lecture—but he just left.
"Haa..." A deep sigh escapes. Alone, I crave exposure; face-to-face, terror freezes me. Irreversible fear locks my body. Still too scared... ...No, getting caught is never okay. Fear's normal. I slap my cheeks to banish naughty thoughts.