He was a well-loved Science teacher at the same private school he had attended and not much had changed over the years, not the affluent student popul...tion, not the strict dress code, and not the colors of the school, dark green and sky blue. Only the style of the uniforms had changed. The girls wore their skirts a little shorter and their socks a little higher than in the past, but the pleats and plaid pattern remained the same as what he remembered as a young man.He got in line behind the. I turn again and lean back against the wall. I put my leg up again and angle my hips forwards. I slide my soapy fingers over my clit and gasp, imagining it’s your hand as I rub in slow circles and slide my fingers around my opening, pressing against my swollen lips. My other hand returns to my breasts, kneading and massaging. I flick my nipples, imagining you biting them. Can you taste my skin? I need more. I don’t want to be touching myself, I want it to be you. But you’re so far away. I step. More

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