Studying at university has one big advantage, which is that you don’t have to get up early (not if you’re a creative writing postgrad student at least) and so the only time I left the house around 8 was if I took up a shift as an ambassador. On one of those days, I sent Lois the usual ‘this is what I’m wearing today’ picture and five minutes later she said good morning and asked me if I was going to play sports today. Sports? Why?
“You dressed unusually scruffy.”
I told her I had to wear this shirt as it’s part of the job. You know, ambassadors wear these ugly unified shirts so they’re recognisable. I couldn’t message her as I was talking to prospective students and had expected her to leave but instead, afterwards, I saw that she’d asked me if she could post some pictures of me on Fetlife (she was still running the account by this point and I still didn’t want to run the account myself).
She asked me if it’d gone well when I resurfaced but I had class right after so apologised once more, feeling rather annoyed that I had to be places rather than at home where I could talk to her.
“I want you to spend class imagining that you are locked up in the basement of my house completely naked in an empty room with a smooth floor and walls and your only sense that is working is your hearing.”
… Well that was instantly arousing. Rather than being here… or at home… I would have liked to be in her basement now.
“If you feel that you get significantly wet you’ll go to the toilet, get naked, take a picture and return to class.”
Right. Okay. So I didn’t exactly know when I was aroused most of the time yet but I had now become increasingly focused on what might be happening around the area of my vagina.
The class I was attending was a 2-hour long workshop with all of our seven students (me included) in which three of us brought part of a writing project. The way it works is that you send the work out to everyone beforehand so that everyone can bring notes to then provide feedback and discuss. We all bring our laptops rather than print things out so it wouldn’t have been impossible for me to talk to Lois but I like to contribute and I was one of the people that had brought work this week.
Just after the first-hour mark, I had to excuse myself and go to the toilet.
“Nicely done. How did you realise you were wet?”
It just kind of felt like it, I think. Imagining it over and over, as one would, it aroused me and made it rather hard to focus on class. I didn’t know how aroused I was though and couldn’t say for certain but it felt like I would take the ‘easy way out’ if I didn’t go to the toilet. Then when I did I found out that I was pretty aroused, haha.