Other Subjects

Prof. W is lovely. He is an endearing old man of about 60, and was once a highly respected musician working all over the world in professional orchestras. Now, he lectures here.  His knowledge is encyclopaedic, and he is a brilliant teacher. Unusually, for a musician, he has no sense of time. Ice ages can come and go before he finishes a lecture, and we often take bets to see how long he will overrun by. That said, his lectures are popular. Many students who are not even on his courses will sit in to hear him speak. This particular day, there was just my group of arts students. Prof. W was waxing lyrical about opera, and was talking about the sexual elements of Mozart operas in particular. At the word sexual, Becky perked up considerably, as did her clit!  “The thing few people accept or even know about Mozart “said Prof W in his wonderful, upper class OxBridge accent, “is that in today’s parlance, he would be described as a ‘dirty cunt’.” Woah! Did he just say that? “In Mozart’s day, prostitution was a respectable profession, sexual activity in the theatre was rife, and patronage, almost exclusively in return for sexual favours was the order of the day.” He went on to describe in lurid and lascivious detail the kind of things that went on.  I was captivated. Mostly by what he was saying, partly by his gorgeous accent, and definitely by his totally unrestricted, and downright filthy vocabulary.  A nudge in my ribs, and an urgent whisper “Fuck me, Becky, he’s going for it, isn’t he?” Jane. Another dance student. “Yeah! Isn’t he just! I tell you what Jane, that voice of his! Every time he says a dirty word, I cream myself.”  “Yeah...I know what you mean. It’s wank time when I get back to my room.” ”Yeah? Well, I might not be able to wait that long.” I slumped down in my seat, quite safe in the darkened lecture theatre and slipped a hand up my skirt. I definitely needed more access so I wriggled out of my knickers. (From spring onwards, I rarely wear underwear at all.) Jane knew exactly what I was going to do - how could she not, my panties were laying balled up on my lap and my hand was working away between my legs.  “Sexual liaisons are powerful“ said Prof W. "Between men and women of course, but also between women. While male homosexuality was, in most countries, considered evil, or illegal, and could be punished heavily, female homosexuality,that is lesbianism was more open, more widespread. Girls learned from girls. Mozart would have seen this,” Jane hissed.....”never tried it, but maybe.....” I lifted my skirt to just in my mound. Let my left hand slip to my side.....and onto Jane’s right hand. She didn’t move it.  “In Figaro, we see the maid, Suzanna, a deep and personal confident of the acountess, who herself is in a deeply unhappy marriage with the Count. The Count wants to sleep with Suzanna, and, indeed, a plot between the two women. They entice the Count into the garden where his wife, dressed as Suzanna, hears the first tender words she has heard from him in years. Why, then, is the Countess not outraged? Why does she not remove Suzanna from her household? Why take a mere servant into her confidence in this way? Suzanna would have dressed her mistress, bathed her, been intimately acquainted with her. Who can say what other services Suzanna might have rendered?”  Jane hissed again, “Yeah, rubbed her off a few times.” Time to go for it, I thought. I brought Jane’s hand up and onto my left leg. Her fingers spread out and I felt pressure. I let my right hand leave my cunny, and just sat there, skirt up, breathing hard, and waited.  I didn’t wait long. Jane moved her fingers slowly up my inner thigh to my cunny. I won’t say it was the best wank I’ve ever received. She didn’t get inside me at any point, but she fiddled my clit nicely. I let my left hand find her leg. Jeans....fuck! Nevertheless, she gently opened her legs to my urging and soon I was pressing the seam against her and feeling her press back in return.  To my surprise, she came first. Her legs clamped on my hand and she used her left hand to press my fingers painfully against her crotch. Then, with a series of light flutters, she diddled my clit until I came shortly after.  In the (hour late) coffee break, we went to her room. We only had half an hour, but as soon as the door was shut we fell on each other. Of course, I was minus my panties already. We stood, kissing aggressively, and I unbuttoned her jeans before slipping my hand down her panties. I was surprised to find hair. So many girls shave nowadays, and many girls I know have had laser hair removal. I rather liked it. In fact, I think I’m going to let mine grow in again and see what it looks like.  Anyway, this was for Jane, not me. Discovering what another girl wants is always a joy. Some like clitoral, some like fingering. Some like being sucked off while others hate it. Go figure! So, I discovered Jane definitely likes fingers inside....and two weren’t enough! Three fingers brought her off nicely though....and very wetly.  We decided we would not wear underwear to the second half of the lecture, and Jane slipped into a very nice dress. As she was changing, she said “I’ve thought about being with a girl, and masturbated over it too. I don’t know if I could, you know, go down on a girl. I mean, I like my own taste, but I don’t know if I would like another girl's.” I took my panties out of my bag and she watched as I rubbed the crotch between my wet cunny lips. I tossed them on her bed, and said “well, later, you can find out.”  The second half of the lecture went much as the first. Sex in music, sex in opera, sex in dance.  From our vantage point right at he back, I know one thing. Jane and I were not the only two to have an orgasm during that lecture.  Fuck me.....his VOICE though! I swear to God. Prf. W could make me wet reading the news!