"How's the studying going, Sasha?" Matthew whispered across the table.
"As good as can be expected," I sighed, leafing through the massive textbook before me, smaller textbooks arrayed around it like moons. "I'm just looking forward to midterms being over so I can get back to a healthy sleep cycle."
"Don't worry. After next week things will be back to normal. It can't be any worse than your philosophy class last semester, right?"
"Yeah, that's true, at least, but that's a pretty low bar. I just wish Professor Kaminski explained things a little better..."
"No, no, it's like he always says: "Theese iz very seemple!" Isn't Jessie taking that class with you? Maybe meet up with her later to go over some stuff."
"Maybe I will..."
"Oh yeah, there's a taiko concert next weekend. Wanna check it out with me? Saturday at seven. We can grab sushi beforehand, too. Make a night of it."
I smiled. "Yeah, sure, that sounds fun. I'll need something like that after these exams." I looked up at the clock. "Damnit, I need to go to class in half an hour ... Ugh, why do course reserves have such ridiculous late fees? Maybe I should just hold onto it overnight and pay the fine."
"Why don't you just go photocopy the pages you need? That way you'll have it and you don't need to deal with trying to snatch the book back and forth from your classmates. Plus it'll be cheaper than incurring the librarians' wrath."
"Good idea! Hey, watch my stuff for me, I'll be right back." I hefted up the book, grabbed my student ID, and made my way into the bowels of the library where the copiers dwelled.
Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press "Copy." Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press "Copy." Flip the page, put the book down, close the lid, press "Copy." The mind-numbing rhythm of the copier's lazy excretions was lulling me to sleep. God, this was boring. No one to talk to. Nothing to read except the textbook, if I wanted to interrupt myself every nine seconds. Nothing to do except babysit the copy machine.
I poked the copy button again and waiting for yet another page to be spat out. I turned the page of the book and was greeted by the glorious sight of the end of the chapter. Finally! I set the book back down and copied the final two pages.
I collected my pages together and stapled them into a few manageable packets. I would have choked the stapler had I tried to staple them all together. I checked my watch. I was all done, and with five minutes to spare! They could at least put a television down here or something to keep things exciting, I thought to myself as I skipped away from my Sisyphean torture. Maybe play some good shows. Or hell, porn. If my tests were going to bend me over and ravage me, I might as well get to enjoy watching someone else experience it, too. Misery loves company, doesn't it? It would certainly spice up this unending tedium...
I paused. The sound of my final skip echoed down the otherwise quiet hallway. I looked around me. I was alone.
I bit my lip and snuck back to the machine. A lascivious thought had popped into my head. Did I really want to do this? The idea excited me. I glanced down at my cleavage. My nipples were already hard, poking through my top, eager to be involved in my plan. No one would even know it was me. Besides, it was charity, basically, right? Selfless altruism: leaving something to brighten up some random stranger's day.
I peeked down the hallway once more to confirm my isolation before hurriedly throwing open the copier's lid. I lifted up my top, silently thanking whatever god looked after exhibitionists that I hadn't bothered with a bra that day, lowered my breasts onto the surprisingly cold glass, and, for the first time, pressed the copy button with joy.
A blinding light emerged from the machine. I shuddered, as much from the clamminess of the basement as from the fear—or was it a hope? —that someone might sneak up on me and discover me bent over the copier, my tits spilling out before me. The beam of light passed across my zeppelins with agonizing slowness, gathering every bit of visual information it needed about my full, round breasts.
The light vanished. The wheels inside the machine whirred to life. I stood back up and tugged my shirt back down, taking the opportunity to slide my hands over my breasts. My nipples had hardened into pebbles. I sighed deeply as I caressed my breasts, massaging them. I was still awed by my daring, impressed by my audacity.
It certainly wasn't a rare thing for me to go outside without a bra, showing off my nipples, seeing who noticed, who ogled at me, who stared as I walked past. If I were being perfectly honest, it was a minor hobby. But I had never taken the next step and actually bared my breasts before ... A single piece of paper emerged from the photocopier.
... Until now...
I released my breath and picked it up. The copier was old and decrepit, but it worked. My jugs looked amazing. I studied the black and white image. It was a new view of my breasts: pressed against the glass. My nipples and areolas were best defined, as the edges of my breasts faded into darkness. I left the paper it in the tray, tits-down, and walked away, my heart pounding and my panties moist. I was really doing this.
I returned my book to the librarian and returned to my table, hoping my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Sorry I took so long, Matthew. There were a lot of pages." I threw my stuff into my bag and zipped it closed. "I've gotta run to class now, though. But I'll see you in the dorm, okay?"
He looked up at me and managed to smile through his tired grimace. "See you later, Sasha! Have fun at class."
"Good luck studying. And take a break or something. If you just keep studying all night, you'll burn yourself out."
"I will..." he mumbled, reaching for a nearby bottle of Coke.
"I'm serious," I emphasized as I left. "Take care of yourself!"
Later that night, back in the dorm, I decided to visit Matthew and see how he was doing. Poor guy. Orgo was really giving him a hard time this semester. I put on an especially tight and low-cut shirt and shimmied in the mirror. This should cheer him up. Well, these, to be more accurate. It'd be good to give his brain a chance to rest and let his little head take over for a bit.
I walked to the end of the hall and knocked on his door.
"Come in," came a muffled reply. I swung open the door, entered, and froze.
Time stood still.
Matthew was sitting at his desk, covered with loose papers and books, a box of tissues and a container of hand lotion off to the side. He had turned towards the door when it opened. His shirt was off, revealing an unexpectedly well-muscled chest and a nice set of abs. But what grabbed my attention was further down.
His hand was stroking a long, girthy cock, emerging from his jeans like a rocket ready to launch. His smooth, thick, shaft glistened with creamy lotion. He was enormous. His hand just barely fit all the way around his manhood. The head of his cock was round and sleek and wide, perfect for penetrating a pining pussy. I raised my gaze and our eyes met.
Time started back up.
Matthew's eyes grew wide. His jaw dropped. His hands dived down towards his dick, shielding it from view in a desperate attempt to preserve the remnants of his modesty. Sweat dewed his reddened face. "What are you doing?! I said 'coming!'" he shouted, his hands almost, but not quite, entirely concealing his impressive package. The tip of his red, thick cock peeked out from beyond his fingertips.
"I-I-I thought you said 'come in!'" I stammered, my eyes locked onto his crotch, onto that smooth, bulbous head.
"Close the door!" he shrieked. I slammed it shut. He smacked his forehead. "I meant from the outside, you idiot! God!"
"I panicked!" I turned around and faced the door, blood roaring in my ears, my cheeks aflame. "I'm so sorry..." I swallowed. My heart was racing in my chest as the thought of his massive manhood settled into my mind for a long, long stay. "Um, you should really lock your door when you have your Happy Hand Time..."
.... There is more of this story ...