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No. 829
And it was.
It was raining, and that was alright with me, because thinking about how shitty it was to walk in the rain to school distracted me plenty from other thoughts. Like how this morning, while eating breakfast, my mom walked into the dining room all gussy'd for work, wearing a particularly low cut top.
Don't get me wrong, seeing my mom in various states of...undress is abnormally normal, but today was somehow different.
In any case her outfit left a lot to the imagination, and that affected me in ways it would normally not.
Not like it matters. I mean, it's my mom. And, tits... Tits are nice all around. Can anybody resist looking at a nice pair?
God, the rain just makes everything so much colder. Even with several layers.
Although, I'm only wearing shorts and a pair of leggings. I should have worn pants, I know I should have worn pants.
And maybe taken an umbrella, but there wasn't any time. At least I have my boots. Pretty warm up to my shins, so that's nice. The only downside is that fucking clinking noise they make when I walk.
At least school isn't that far away... Ten minutes if I'm really feeling sluggish, which today I'm not.
Just disgruntled and horny.
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I arrive dripping wet. Hair mussed from wind and rain, boots squeaking on the cheap floors. Like the clinking wasn't enough.
A few of my lovely and not judgmental schoolmates let their eyes catch mine as they give me a one over, so I give 'em a good glare.
Their eyes now diverted, I'm off to the art room, where I turn off the kiln and examine my work. Not my best, but it'll do. I'll put it on a shelf above eye level, and cover it with some canvas just to be careful.
Now to take care of all this “wet” business. Not the kind I'd like to take care of, mind, but that is the unfortunate way today must be, I guess. In the bathroom, I'm feeling dumb for even giving a fuck, but sitting underneath the hand dryer brushing my hair somehow feels demeaning even when there's not another soul in sight.
Whatever. The heat feels really nice after being out in that cold rain, but I finish just as I started enjoying it. My hands press against the cool linoleum as I steady myself to stand up. boots still squeaking, I start towards the door. Quick stop by the mirror first, double checking my appearance. Let's see. Buttonup with camisole layered just fine. For now, since I'm not out in the rain, I'll put my big comfy sweater in my backpack and just throw my hoodie back on. The door opens abruptly, nearly knocking me back on the ground in pure shock.
A gaggle of girls had just come in, giggling and screaming and generally being all over each other. And I'm standing here, trying to look nonchalant while my arms snake frantically into my jacket.
Ten minutes until class, warns the alarm on my phone.
"Olivia!" I look up from my phone to see Jennifer beaming at me, slightly out of breath from laughter. "Hey, how's it going?" I swear, that smile of hers should be on lockdown somewhere. It's fairly effective as a temporary paralyzing agent.
"Oh, hey." Was my (almost) automatic response. I glanced around at her friends. It was strange, because they almost seemed frozen. They were definitely a lot more hushed than when they came in.
Jennifer was the one to break the awkward tension in the air.
“So,” She said, pausing to put her arm around me. “This is Olivia. She's the one making my present for Kevin.”
“Really? Are you done yet? Can we see it?” One of the girls, a tiny blonde, asked.
“The base is, I just have to paint it, now.” I turned my head to half-face Jennifer. “You told them about it?” I said, talking out of the side of my mouth.
“Well, duh. They're my best friends! I tell them, like(1), everything.” And, for some reason, I couldn't help but smile. My right hand reached up to pat my bun.
“I guess I can't really argue with that, although I think I'd rather reveal it when it's done.” Thinking about it in more than flashes started getting me all hot again. My, erm, lower organ started to swell, and I had to suppress the thought. I thought of clay. How cold it always feels whenever I start to touch it. I imagined my entire body being this cold. For some reason, this works for me. As it was subsiding, I adjusted my shorts.
“When is it going to be done?” Asked Melanie, another of the girls. I recognized her from the U.S. History course we shared. This was the first time she'd ever spoken to me, though.
“Probably tomorrow.” I shrugged and curiously watched as her eyes lit up, tapping Jennifer on the shoulder to whisper in her ear.
I had a nervous thought that she might have seen me twitch, but it didn't really matter much. Nothing I could do about it anyway. So I was quick to move on to other thoughts, like the fact that Melanie's very pretty. Pretty much all of Jennifer's friends are. She's bubbly, but in a starkly different way that Jennifer was. I want to say she's passionate. Aggressively inquisitive in class. Otherwise I'd say she's kind of quiet.
“Oh, that's a great idea!” Jennifer exclaimed. Melanie looked at me, lips curved upward in something like either a mischievous, or a knowing smile. Or both.
“Olivia, are you busy tomorrow after school?”
I shrugged again. “Not especially. It's a Friday.”
“You want to hang out at my house? We'll have like(2), a little unveiling party for Kevin's present. I mean, like(3), before I give it to him.” I've got to admit, I was pretty skeptical. What if she wanted me to do her even more of these weird little favors?
“Sure.” The idea of hanging out with other people on a Friday night beat out any cons I could have come up with. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I've never really had friends that I hung out with outside of school. Plenty of people I talked to during school hours, and I've gone to things like birthday parties and things before, but nobody had ever just asked me to “hang out.”
And then there was the idea that I may get to see her in similar clothing to the photograph she gave to me.
“Awesome! I'll just pop in at your last class tomorrow again and collect you before we go.” I sensed the conversation was coming to an end, and slowly inched towards the door.
“Cool, I'll probably see you around before then, but if I don't...” I gave a little salute before I made my exit.
“Bye, Olivia! I can't wait to see it finished!” Jennifer's voice called out after me.
In class, I couldn't focus. For some reason, the lazy sound of somebody that's been talking all day talking about the same thing they've been talking about all day kind of lulls the mind. And my mind kept coming back to the same thing, the same topic. I shouldn't even have to say it at this point.
And, yeah, I was hard. As a fucking brick. I had it pushed up in my belt, and it was very distracting, pressed up and throbbing against my stomach. The worst part about it was that it felt good. Whenever it twitched, it shifted slightly inside my tights. The material was soft, and pleasant.
The last period was especially frustrating, because that was the class I had that teacher. The one with the fantastic ass. In hindsight, I do feel a bit awkward doing that in her class, especially after what happened the previous day, but at the time I just wasn't thinking.
Each time she turned to write something on the blackboard, was a little blessing. She liked to write up higher on the board, but not being very tall made it so that she'd have to stretch to do so. Every time she did, her shirt rode up just ever so slightly, and I could glimpse the hint of her underwear just above her tight jeans.
Blue lace.
And her jeans, they clung to her skin just like I'd like to. The soft rounded shape of her ass drove me absolutely crazy.
By the end of the class, I had taken to attempting to achieve orgasm in class. Intentionally contracting my muscles to make it move rhythmically. My hands were in my lap, serving as sort of a barrier from anyone that might happen to glance in my direction. Unfortunately, that and my large hoodie were my only protection from that sort of situation, because at that point, my brain had turned into sex mush. I needed it, that pleasure, that release. All I could think about was the feeling. The feeling of my cock rubbing against smooth fabric. The feeling of my nipples standing at attention, pushing up against the inner lining of my bra.
But it didn't happen. I simply couldn't with such limited stimulation. Frustrated and slightly sticky from precum, I left the room with a binder in front of my pants to the art room where I painted the shit out of that portrait.
Somehow, instead of hindering me, being as horny as I was helped immensely. The focus I achieved while painting each little detail of Jessica's sexy body was incredible. Sure, I was really turned on, but for some reason it wasn't distracting. So, I got that done and glazed and put back in the kiln.
After the slightly awkward shufflewalk home, I didn't care anymore. I threw open the door, and shut it just as quickly as it had opened. I ran upstairs to my room and couldn't get my shorts off fast enough. Open air never felt so good. My hand was on my dick before I even sat down on my bed, my other hand holding my tights to the tops of my thighs.
So much time I had spent, pent up. Even before I pulled my tights off, you could have said I was soaked. Precum gushed from me, making little slick sounds every time I moved my hand either up or down. A sticky symphony perfectly in tune with my ragged breathing, occasionally accompanied by a moan I never meant to let slip.
And it was paying off. Each stroke brought me closer and closer to release. I could feel it building, like a knot inside me tightening further with each second. I was greedy, but I wanted more. So, I stopped before the point of no return. It took some effort and a lot of willpower to pull away from myself, but I did. In that moment, I panted. My hands went to pull off my shirt, then my bra. I started teasing myself, slowly circling my nipples with my fingertips. One of my hands left to visit my mouth, delving two fingers in between my plump lips. My tongue greeted them inside, imitating a snake. If it had been longer, my tongue would have coiled against the two, but it wasn't, so it just got them very, very wet.
That hand went back down to my nipple, the other hand mimicked the first.
And then, I couldn't help it. I inched back down to what called out for attention the most. It didn't take long to pick up back where I left off. My eyes, glazed over with lust rolled around the room. My mouth, open enough to allow the passage of sharp breaths growing sharper and more frequent in and out.
That's when it happened. My eyes somehow connected with another pair at the peak of my pleasure. It didn't register right away, being in that moment of nonthinking nothing, and it was only for a second, as they rolled up inside my head involuntarily from the sheer force of what I was experiencing. Thick fluid exploded from within me, frosting the tops of my tights. A stark contrast, the white against the black nylon. And it kept going, coating my hands, and my stomach. The underside of my left tit.
A sigh rattled from my lips, my legs shook. My eyes came back into use, and tried to confirm what they had seen before. The eyes weren't there, but the door was definitely open a crack.
Well, shit. My mom had caught me masturbating.
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