I imagined what was holding them up. How high they went? What kind of panties she had on? What color? Did they match the bra? Shit I was getting wetter and really uncomfortable with my hard cock trapped in tight jeans. Were they thigh highs? Did she wear a garter belt? I had to stop looking at her legs before I full on came in my pants. She had passed from my field of view thank goodness. I calmed for a moment. Miss Bennett was approaching my desk from behind and I could hear the shuss, shuss of her nylons rubbing together. Oh shit how was I to survive this year? She was finished with the girl behind me and out of the corner of my eye I saw her at crotch level bedside my desk. "Your name? She asked. "Cliff. Cliff Foster" I answered almost tongue tied by her closeness to me. Her perfume was faint but nice and I had to contain myself. I looked up at her face as she spoke to me and my eyes locked onto the under side of her boobs hoping to get a glance thru a gapping button on her. I move both hands down my leg to my ankle, leaning forwards. I’d look you in the eyes, if you were here. I swap legs and give you the same show again, leaning forwards until my breasts touch my knee. This time, as I move back up, I stroke my soapy hand just once over my pussy. I’m swollen and wet, more from the thought of you watching than from touching myself. I turn my back to you and run the soapy scrunchie over my ass. Then I spread my legs and lean forwards as far as I can. I like to think you moan as I present my soapy, wet pussy to you. Are you hard yet? I put my hand between my legs and draw my fingers through the suds. Can you see me? I hope so. 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.
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