The names in this story have been randomly selected. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age and over.
My husband asked me recently. “Name the most exciting or naughtiest place you’ve had a wank, Beth?”
I laughed my arse off at first, trying to remember the many places outside of my bedroom where I had slipped a keen hand inside my panties. “There’s been too many!” I admitted unashamedly. “How about you?”
My husband, David confessed, when he was at university, he loved getting his rocks off in the boy’s restrooms during the college girls hockey practice. He explained how the end cubicle had a window facing the hockey pitches. Again I laughed, wondering if any of the boys at my university ever relieved their sexual frustration whilst watching me playing netball.
Then I remembered a time which was exciting and very naughty. I only got halfway through my confession before David was on top of me, unable to hear another word until he was buried balls deep inside of me. Even then I couldn’t finish as the excitement tipped him over the edge.
So I thought I’d share it with you lovely readers and see what you think…?
When I completed high school I opted to stay on and complete my A-Levels rather than go to college to do them. I was settled, I knew the teachers and school, plus I only lived ten minutes from the main entrance. The only downside was being eighteen and still in school, although teachers did treat us as if we were in college, so it wasn’t too bad.
Anyway, I was in my history classroom one lunchtime, catching up on my essay on the murder of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and why it became the spark that set off the first world war. The peace and quiet allowed me to catch up by more than I expected. I put down my pen and opened my bag, taking out my packed lunch. I didn’t mind eating on the go or studying alone. I enjoyed my own company, particularly lately. No, I told myself. Not in here. I stood up from my chair and began to wander the room. With a diet coke in one hand and my favourite cheese and ham sandwich in the other, I began walking laps around the tables.
As I finished my lunch the voice inside my head kept on and on. It niggled away at me, as it had done for the past few months.
Since discovering how to masturbate properly, and how to really get myself off, I had become addicted to masturbation and the resulting orgasms. It didn’t matter where I was or who I was with, when the urge struck me, it became all I could think about until I found somewhere private to touch, rub and pleasure myself.
Despite my determination to study and not get distracted, I was definitely aroused for no apparent reason when I sat back down in my chair. I picked up my pen and began to write, but it was clearly going to be an endless struggle. My mind drifted to the previous nights shower and the discovery of climaxing from just spraying the shower up between my legs. I felt tingly all over as I relived the moment through my thoughts. Then the idea of using my new vibrator, the mini rampant rabbit I had bought online, and almost brought to school a few times, entered my dirty mind. I could have sworn I wasn’t normal, masturbating every morning, sometimes noon in the restrooms and always in the night.
Inevitably the urge took over and I decided I was going to masturbate and bring myself off. But instead of heading to the girls toilets, something came over me which had me leaning back in my chair and lifting my legs up, before resting my feet inside my black school shoes on the table. This would not be the first time I had masturbated at school, far from it, but it was going to be the first time I had done it outside the safety of one of the girls locked toilet cubicles.
I glanced towards the classroom door and rolled my thin black school tights down to just below my knees. I giggled, feeling the cool air in the room against my now exposed legs. Squeezing three fingers together, I gently pressed the tips into the frilly white lace and began to rub my moist lips through the material.
“Ohhhhh fuck yeah!” I groaned, realising I was more turned on that I thought, and sensing I wasn’t going to last very long at all.
The naughtiness of my actions, the sense of danger of being caught only magnified my need to bring myself to orgasm right there in that very classroom. Wondering what the teacher would say, what any teacher would say or do in fact, if they suddenly walked in and caught me being so uncontrollably lewd.
God, I needed help! This behaviour of mine had definitely gotten out of control.
I was squirming inside the chair as my hips moved in small circular motions, just as my hand was between my spread, raised legs.
No sooner had I started I heard footsteps echoing along the tiled corridor outside. It sounded like one person. I stopped, ready to pull my legs down from the table and pretend I had dozed off or something. The tension was excruciating but exciting. My heart rate had doubled, tripled, before the footsteps faded and I threw my head back, rubbing my pussy once more through the thin lace material.
I became increasingly hot in every way imaginable that I stopped for a moment and took off my light grey school jumper. I then loosed my gold and black tie, patterned in the schools logo, pulling it outwards, feeling it sliding out of the collar, releasing the tension around my neck. Reaching for the buttons on my white school blouse, I then popped the top one, and then the second, to let some air in through the top of my blouse. My breasts swelled and ached to be free, but I wasn’t feeling that brave.
Relaxing back in the chair, finally comfortable, I resumed rubbing my pussy through my panties. Wearing lace to school always made me horny. If only the male teachers knew I was wearing lace and thongs to school, I would think and become aroused when they smiled politely at me in the corridors between lessons.
As I got into a rhythm the lines between getting caught and hurrying up became blurred. I wanted to come but I didn’t want to come. Nowadays people call it “edging. Bringing oneself to the point of climax, only to stop and delay the inevitable. It sounds like torture, but in that moment, masturbating in a school classroom, I was so intoxicated in my own arousal it became addictive like a drug.
Instinctively, I pulled my lace panties halfway down my thighs and gasped at how wet I was. Impatiently sinking a finger deep inside my body, my knees trembled, closing until they touched. “Uh… ohhh… fuck… not yet!” I teased myself.
My body was swaying as if I were riding some wave. Biting down on my lower lip in between gasps for breath, I thought I heard more footsteps. But I was too far gone to stop and check this time. I told myself it would only be somebody walking by again. I believed I was alone until lunchtime ended and I was going to enjoy the privacy.
Concentrating on my impending climax, I began to think about my boyfriend. I wished we were at the same school. We would get suspended for shagging though, like I was going to be if I didn’t hurry up and come.
“Uh… yes… uh yes… yes… uh fuck yes!” I panted over and over as one finger become two, plunging in and out of my dirty pussy. That’s what I liked to think of her as, my dirty pussy that needed to be punished with fingers and cock.
I began to imagine my boyfriend was getting ready to slide his hard dick into my tight, shaven, teen pussy. “Uh… yes… yes… fuck I need…”
“Cock?”
“Yes! Uhhh! Yes!” I moaned, oblivious until I opened my eyes. “Shit! Oh my God! I’m so sorry, Sir!”
“How is the studying going?” Mr. Watkins, head of History asked, standing in front of me, on the other side of the table. He was directly in line with me, watching me rubbing myself like a wanton little whore.
I quickly pulled my legs down from the table, my cheeks burning from the embarrassment. I couldn’t think of the consequences right then. I just had to get myself decent first. “I’m so sorry, Sir.”
“Relax … it’s Bethan Saunders isn’t it?
“Yes, Sir.” I nodded, too embarrassed to look him in the eye as I yanked up my panties and desperately tried to roll up my tights.
“A-Level student and 18?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Stop what you’re doing, Miss Saunders and look at me.”
I stopped and lifted my head, his gaze clearly taking in the sight before him as I about managed to roll up my tights and smooth my skirt down. My blouse was still without its tie and the two top buttons were still released, offering a glimmer of cleavage.
“I see you like taking risks. Only natural at your age. However, I’m not sure, Mr. Pritchard would appreciate you taking them in his classroom. Particularly when he has entrusted you to get on with some studying.”
“I’m so sorry, Sir, it won’t happen again.” I couldn’t get the words out quick enough, as reality began setting like concrete. “Please, Sir… I don’t know…”
“Relax, Miss Saunders, you’re eighteen years old, you’re an adult, and if I’m correct I do believe you’re expected to finish as a straight A student?”
“Apart from Science, I’m expecting a B, Sir.”
“Oh, and there was me thinking you were perfect.” He said, running his gaze over me once more.
He was so difficult to read. He didn’t smile, grin, wink or smirk. He didn’t do anything except exert his control and authority over me.
“I have little interest in ruining your education with two months until your final exams, Miss Saunders. You do understand that this kind of behaviour is unacceptable in a school, and would result in you being expelled?”
“I do, Sir.”
“Masturbating, however inappropriate the location, does not warrant humiliating you or ruining your education in my view. Besides, Miss Saunders, I’d rather like to thank you for sharing the experience with me today and for choosing totally inappropriate underwear for school.”
I was speechless, standing there dumbfounded with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what he had just said to me.
“Now close your eyes, Miss Saunders.”
“Wh.. what? I mean, Sir, why?”
“Just do as you’re told, Miss Saunders!” He raised his voice.
I did as instructed, wondering what he was going to do. I felt nervous but not scared. I felt safe being inside the classroom, and my nerves slowly turned to curiosity as I heard his breathing come in close, sharp gasps, before the sound of rattling metal took over. I wanted to open my eyes and see what he was doing. The rattling sounded like nervous hands unbuckling a belt. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down.
“Undo your blouse.” His voice was hoarse.
Keeping my eyes tightly closed I listened to the sounds emitting from him only a few feet away. It was obvious he was the one masturbating now. The repetitive sound of a man fapping his hand back and forth the length of something, combined with the shallow breath of impending pleasure was blatantly obvious. I fought to not giggle, to not open my eyes. Instead, with my top two buttons already free from earlier, I reached for the third button and released it.
“Oh, Miss Saunders, keep going and then open your blouse wide.”
I knew my matching white lace bra was visible after I released the third button. I also knew it became more so when I released the fourth button and his breathing further quickened. I then released the fifth and final button of my school blouse and pulled it out of my skirt, before opening it out like a glamour model to reveal my firm D cup, lace bra covered teenage breasts to a teacher.
“Oh, boy… oh, boy…” He moaned.
“Would you like me to remove my bra, Sir?” I asked softly, expecting to have to anyway, as I slipped the blouse from my body and dropped it onto the classtoom floor.
“Yes… there’s a good… girl?” He gasped in between words.
I was so horny again by this point that I simply reached for the shoulder straps and pulled them down my arms until they rested at my elbows. The room instantly filled with his groans of anticipation as I reached round to the centre of my back and held the bra clasp in my fingers.
“Can I open my eyes, Sir?” I grinned mischievously.
“No, no, you cant. Just drop your bra.”
“Only if I can open my eyes.” I bargained.
“Uhh… uhhh… I need to see them.”
I was now ready in many ways. I was ready to expose my tits to a teacher, but I was also ready to watch him ejaculate for me. In the most surreal experience of my life, I dropped the bra and opened my eyes.
“Arggggh! Here it comes!” He belted with a screwed-up face.
As I opened my eyes and felt the bra drop from my body, the cool air rushed against my hardened nipples. Mr. Watkins, unable to resist, pushed the table away from us and stepped closer. With his left hand he then groped, first my right, and then my left breast. He was rolling each nipple in turn between his thumb and forefinger when his orgasm struck. He looked pathetic actually, but also like he had died and gone to heaven. Groping my teenage tits while he stood stroking his cock. His ejaculation erupted like venom, striking my school skirt and tights before it only dribbled out of the end onto the floor in front of him.
When he left I realised I hadn’t come myself yet? He had interrupted me. Locking the door behind him as he urgently exited the classroom without an ounce of authority left in his body, I spread my legs wide, back against the locked door, pulled my tights down and my panties to the side. I was still topless, my soft, round breasts wobbling as I frantically rubbed my clit and pussy. I looked down and saw the remnants of Mr. Watkins orgasm drying into the fabric of my school uniform. That did it…
“Uh… oh fuck yes! Ohhhh… uhhh you dirty slut!” I called out, a girl after her own heart, as I climaxed harder than I could ever remember.
Thank you for reading my story. Please fell free to name your most exciting or naughty place…