“Uh, Uh, Uh, OOOOOO!” Buzz!!! Mika’s phone buzzed and rattled atop her dresser just as she was nearly at the peak of her orgasm. She had been imagining that she had finally found a guy who would spend time kissing her, maybe even one who would dine at the Y.
That she had begun to believe was an imaginary beast akin to a unicorn, but a girl who was dialing OH! on the pink telephone could imagine unicorns, as long as she didn’t imagine doing naughty things with the equine sort. She almost snorted in laughter as she lost concentration, her body was still humming and her pussy was awash with lubricant indicating a successful (thus far) session. She was about to go back to her entertainment of the afternoon when the phone rattled the dresser again.
Two messages in a row? She wondered if something was wrong at home? That question catapulted her out of the bed, or at least upright enough to find her glasses (for reading only) so that she could see what had arrived.
The first text read, “Report to professor Julian’s (pronounced Hulen ... she smirked internally) office to receive your grade on today’s philosophy 201 test.”
If it hadn’t been for the second text that read, “Failure to appear before COB today will result in failure of the entire class,” Mika would possibly have ignored the message.
She didn’t want to fail the class, she discovered somewhat belatedly, so reluctantly she dressed and headed back across the campus to find out what the damage was.
As she arrived at the professor’s office she met one of the geeky boys (men she reminded herself) who seemed to be into subjects like philosophy leaving the office looking more than a bit bemused.
Surprisingly he stopped and said, “Hi, I never remember your name from class, I’m James Harmond and I thought you ought to know that the professor told me that he is only calling in the people who passed the test.”
“I’m Mika, Mika Browne,” Mika said, feeling a flush (why am I blushing [and will this guy notice?] she wondered) flow across her face as she held out her hand to shake.
“Pleased to meet you Ms Browne,” James told her, as he gave her hand a light squeeze causing a clenching below for Mika as well as making her wonder just what was going on. Maybe dialing OH! on the pink telephone just before meeting guys was a bad idea?
“I expect you have places to be, but here’s my card,” James handed her a mass production (printed on his own computer? Mika wondered) business card, “If you’d like to get together to study some time. After all if we’re both passing the class, maybe we ought to combine efforts?”
James blushed a bright pink as he finished his spiel and nearly dropped the card in his haste to suddenly withdraw. Mika thought she saw the hint of what he might be packing in his slacks, and thought, ‘Damn, whitey’s carrying some artillery, maybe I ought to take him up on the studying, he might be better than solo flights.”
The door to the professor’s office opened and the man’s head poked out. He was older than dirt, near as Mika could tell, “Miss Browne, if you would come in so I can get on with my day?” he croaked.
Mika glanced at the fast closing door that hid the last glimpse of James Harmon’s retreating figure, then she turned her attention to the professor. The grade she would receive in the class might be meaningless even if she didn’t decide on a Mrs degree rather than one in ECE. Being polite had been beaten into her by her Mamma, so she said, “Yes professor Julian,” as she headed his way with a pasted on smile.