Passing the Test

“Are you ready for the exam?” I asked my best friend Lacey as we trudged down the dim hallway to Math class. She and I studied all week, but neither of us was good with numbers unless we were shopping at the mall. “I don’t know, Kristie. I guess.” She replied half–heartedly as she held the door to our room for me. We took our usual seats in the very back of the classroom and settled in. Lacey set a large bottle of water on her desk, a remedy I recommended to her for the nail biting she always did during a big test. We said little to each other, and when class began our collective focus was set solely on passing this exam. It was the last class in our last year of college, and the only thing keeping us from our degrees.
“Alright class, you know what to do,” the proctor mumbled as he began handing out our exam papers. I took one last glance at Lacey and giggled to myself as she had already cracked her water bottle open and took a big swallow of it. With a sigh I dialled into the monster on my desk and carefully tore open the paper tab on my booklet. Flipping over to the first page, I slid my calculator to the edge of my desk and mustered all my attention to making it out of this year alive. I breezed through the first half of the test, but began to notice the questions getting harder the further I advanced into it. Finally running into a word problem, I cracked my knuckles and stole a glance at Lacey. She was mid–drink again, and was right around the same question I was. Her gigantic bottle was halfway gone and I boggled my eyes at how much she was drinking. She must have been extremely nervous to be pounding down the water like that. I mused over her for a little longer before turning back, clearing my calculator, and settling into the long string of word problems that lie ahead.
Fifteen minutes passed and I had only completed six word problems with nine more to go. I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms and checking the clock. We still had an hour to go, and my booklet appeared to have a limitless supply of pages. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lacey take another hearty swig of water. Only one quarter of the bottle remained, and a casual look at her face revealed that she had reached a mental wall and was beginning to struggle with the increasing complexity of the questions. She leaned on her elbow heavily, tapping her pencil against her head. Her other hand rested on her lap, partially lost in the ruffles of her layered purple skirt. Her left foot was resting behind her right below her chair, which she bounced up and down rapidly. Before turning back to her test I admired her flats, adorned with cute and glittery adornments.
Twenty minutes later marked my completion of the word problems. With a sigh of relief I turned the page to the last section of the book, and groaned softly as multiple pages greeted me– filled to the margins with empty graphs that I would have to fill in. I ran my fingers through my hair, and rested my forehead in my hands. Once again my eyes diverted to Lacey. I noticed immediately that her water was completely gone, and she looked extremely uncomfortable. She gripped her pencil tightly as she wrote the final answer to her word problems, and her hand was tucked between her legs. Both her feet were on the floor, but she was perched on the balls of both of them, bouncing her legs up and down fervently.
I must have lingered my stare on her too long, because the proctor got up and started circulating the room, frequently casting a piercing gaze in my direction. Quickly I diverted my attention back to my calculator, switching it to the graphing function, and began the final portion of the exam. With half an hour to go I flipped my scratch paper over, and sighed at the tediousness of the last part of this test. Before beginning the final portion I looked down and admired my outfit. I wore a simple white top with bell sleeves and ruffles, and tan Capri pants that fit me comfortably. With my lucky pair of Converses on my feet, I took a deep breath in and began plotting intersections and parabolas.
Shortly after I began I heard a student get up. Looking up I was relieved as the proctor took his seat at his desk, as he collected the exam of the first person to finish. I scoffed under my breath as I picked up my pencil and looked over the next graph. Turning to my calculator, I was distracted by Lacey’s smooth tan legs flapping together frantically. Her hand was out of her lap and she was twirling her hair rapidly, her discomfort was blatant at this point and one look at her empty water bottle painted the picture perfectly.
With twenty minutes remaining, I arrived at question 42 of the 50–question test. Each problem was taking an immense block of my time to complete, and though this was the point that I should have really been focused on completing, my best friend sitting next to me, in obvious need of a trip to the restroom, was constantly distracting me. As I turned to number 43 I glanced in her direction once more. The moment I did, she lowered her arms and grasped both sides of her chair, lifting herself up slightly and tucking her right foot under her. She lowered herself onto it and her eyes widened slightly in relief. I watched her curiously as she began slowly rocking back and forth in her chair on her foot. She immediately appeared more comfortable, and with a quick parting of her bangs she flipped to the final two pages of the test. Looking back down at my booklet and then to the clock on the wall told me I really needed to try harder to pay attention.
Five minutes later I had caught back up to Lacey. With only three problems remaining and fifteen minutes left I casually cleared my screen and prepared to finish the exam and subsequently finish my institutionalised undergraduate education. Once more, however, my focus was disrupted as out of the corner of my eye I saw Lacey ‘s French manicured nails wrap around the edge of her desk. She was leaning forward slightly and appeared to be almost grinding her foot against her crotch. Her skirt fell around her, concealing her actions, but judging by the intensity and rhythm of her actions, that was my only deduction. Her forehead appeared to shine with perspiration, and her left leg bounced rapidly up and down, as before.
I fumbled my way through the next two problems, and with eight minutes left, I saw Lacey clap her booklet shut and make a beeline to the proctor to turn her test in. I looked up to watch her. She set her exam papers down neatly, and pointed to the door as she talked quietly to the proctor. I saw him shake his head and point at the clock. In response, she pressed her hands to her crotch and bent over slightly. He smiled apologetically and with another quick shake of his head, I saw her shoulders slump as she shuffled back to her seat. She shot an exasperated look in my direction and sat down heavily. She leaned forward with her head on her desk, and unashamedly held herself with both hands, hiking her skirt up. Five minutes remained, and with my last ounce of interest I hashed through the last problem.
As I walked up and returned from turning my exam in with four minutes remaining, Lacey kept her head down on her desk. She was flapping her legs together violently, and I could hear her thighs beating against each other every time she did it. Before I sat down I rubbed her back gently, and received no response. As I began to line my calculator and writing utensils neatly on my desk, I heard a soft moan come from beside me. I turned as Lacey once again rose out of her seat, tucking her foot under her. Before sitting back down she grabbed equal handfuls of her flowing skirt and clenched them in front of her. With the bulk of the material now in her clenched fists, my eyes widened as I watched her lean forward, quickly lowering herself onto her heel, burying it deeply into her crotch.
Entranced, I attempted to shield my eyes as I watched her. The proctor was keen on all students keeping their eyes forward or on their tests, but from our place in the last row we were practically invisible. I heard Lacey moan softly again, as she grabbed the corner of her desk with her left hand, her right one still clenching at the bulk of her skirt. She turned away from me slightly, leaning heavily to her right side, pushing off the desk and digging her heel into her crotch. My heart began to race and I slumped in my chair. She was much taller than me and from my new lower vantage point I could see her heel, which was no longer in its shoe, being rubbed repeatedly against her emerald green panties. Eager to see more, I slid down as far as I could go without attracting attention, and with Lacey’s head turned away from me I could see the entirety of her heel pressed into her vagina.
I felt a twinge of excitement run between my legs as I watched her repeatedly thrust her crotch against her heel in an effort to stave off her desperation. A quick look at the clock showed that only one minute had passed, with three remaining. As I watched her, my pussy began to grow slick and warm, and I immediately began to regret going commando today. Suddenly she leaned forward over the edge of her desk, and appeared to clench all her muscles together and her body tensed up rigidly. From my place behind her, my eyes darted to her crotch. I heard her draw a quick and sharp breath through her teeth and lift off her heel momentarily. My heart skipped a beat as a small wet patch appeared on her panties, and she immediately sat back down on her heel and began grinding furiously. Overcome with the sight, I inadvertently spurted into my khaki capris as well, and quickly clutched myself with surprise. I didn’t even have to use the bathroom five minutes ago, but something about watching Lacey triggered something in my bladder as well.
Moving my hand aside quickly, my mouth gaped open as I discovered a wet patch of my own. My thin pants had become translucent, and in my current slouched position, the fabric between my legs outlined my pussy lips clearly, swollen with excitement. Two minutes remaining. I could hear Lacey’s chair creak as she thrust herself against her heel relentlessly. I crossed my legs to hide the wet patch, and turned my head casually to watch her. I felt sorry for the poor girl, but the pulsing waves of ecstasy between my legs demanded that I see more, or create a scene of my own. I wasn’t disappointed, as I heard her exhale audibly. She was leaned forward so far I could see the better half of her curvaceous ass and all of her situation unfolding. Much to my pleasure another jet of pee escaped her failing bladder muscles, and I clenched my thigh muscles together as I saw a small stream of her pee flow down her heel and collect on the chair.
At this point I couldn’t tell if I had to pee as well or if I was about to orgasm without even touching myself. My pussy tingled and contracted and demanded attention. I gave up hiding my wet patch and set both feet on the floor, and began rubbing my thighs together. The warm and soft fabric against my bare pussy felt heavenly, and I could feel the slick juices begin to drip and add to the dark stain between my legs. One minute remained, and the proctor turned to the board and began erasing it. Using his absence to my advantage, I turned my head fully to watch Lacey. She had both hands on the edge of her chair, and was hovering above it, staring at the clock intently. She was bouncing as she hovered, and held her skirt down in front of her, unaware that the back of it was propped up, revealing her entire predicament for only me to watch.
With thirty seconds to go, and just as I thought she would be able to make a mad dash to the bathroom and escape with only slightly wet underwear, I heard a fierce hissing as a forceful stream escaped through her panties and pooled on the chair. I watched as the dark patch in her green cotton panties grew quickly, and unable to take the scene any longer, I quickly grabbed my satchel from under my desk, placed it on my lap, and slid a hand into my pants to began toying my clit. Enjoying myself immensely, I turned to look at Lacey one last time.
With ten seconds on the clock, I watched as she shifted sideways in her chair, with her ass hanging over the edge of the chair closest to me. I gasped as she reached under her and pulled her panties aside, exposing her pink pussy for only me to see. I slid two fingers into my own pussy and began playing with myself feverishly, only seconds from orgasm. As if waiting for the bell to toll, as soon as the clock reached the top of the hour she began peeing forcefully into the aisle between my desk and hers. I felt a torrent of my own juices erupt from between my legs as I watched her clear stream of hot pee soak the carpet. My eyes watered as I felt wave after wave of my fluids completely drench my pants and begin dripping down the side of my chair.
Once Lacey was done, I pulled my hand out of my pants and looked around the room. To my surprise, the other students were filing out casually and the proctor was now cleaning the board with some sort of spray. It’s as if time stood still, absolutely no one in the room had any idea about what just happened. I repositioned my satchel on my lap as Lacey collected herself and turned to me. We gave each other curious looks as she said, “Sorry, the bastard wouldn’t let me go.” I smiled and nodded at her, standing up. With a soft laugh I winked at her as I took my satchel away from my lap. “And I didn’t even try,” I said, as I motioned down to my now practically transparent pants. We looked at each other and laughed loudly, and went about gathering out things. I can’t remember if I passed or not, but that’s one Math test I take over and over in my head at night.
By: Tempest Orion Email: tempestorion@REMOVETHIShotmail.com