Little London Masturbates in Class

London loves to watch her teacher; join her as she masturbates during class!

It’s a big private Catholic high school. Strict. She sits at her desk watching her teacher. He tends to talk with his hands. He’s so so? So handsome and irresistible. He’s half Irish, half Italian, and six-foot-two. He has muscle, lean muscle, arms she would love to feel wrapped around her. Arms that would hold her tightly as she sat atop his desk and they had rough tantalizing sex. Oh, she wants him. There’s no doubt about that. She wants to run her fingers through his thick black hair.

London herself is only 14 years old and very inexperienced in the ways of pleasure seeking. She wants to experience it for the first time not with some random Joe Blow down the street but with someone who will know what to do. Someone who would know how to satisfy her.

As she thinks about him, she can feel between her legs it’s getting very warm, hot in fact. She squeezes her legs together, but she can still feel the wetness seep into her black lace panties.

The class has only been going on for about ten or fifteen minutes, but her body aches with desire. He is married, she knows, but she doesn’t care. She could serve him far better than his wife ever could. Her long hair is thick and dark. It’s in two braided pigtails very near her ears. Even with the small reading glasses that adorn her face, she believes herself far cuter than his wife. After all, she’s curvy, athletic, and her breasts are perky with the life of youth. Her sacred space has been untainted by a man which makes her more desirable.

His voice is so enticing. His hands look warm and the thought of them being all over her, roaming freely over every inch of her body almost makes London groan out loud. Under her bra (one black and lacy to match her panties) she can feel her nipples getting hard. Again she squeezes her knees together, biting her lip.

Maybe being caught would be fun she thinks as her wet panties start to overflow. She inhales sharply, but no one appears to be staring at her. They’re all focused on either Mr. Haden or trying to pass notes to one another. She’s in the mood to do something adventurous.

A mischievous smile crosses her lips as the plan forms in her head.

Slowly, carefully, she slides her right hand (leaving her left out to write with) under her desk and places it on her knee. She looks up at Mr. Haden and sees a curious look in his eye. A kind of boyish curiosity. And that curiosity is pointing directly at her.

Nervously she taps her pencil eraser against her textbook. Will he see her? He obviously knows she’s up to something.

He stops pacing and drops his hands ever so slightly as he looks at London.

Does he know? There’s no way he could. She isn’t even doing anything yet. Maybe he thinks she’s trying to text someone. Cell phones aren’t permitted in class. Deciding to take the chance anyway she slowly creeps her hand closer to her inner thigh. Maybe her look is betraying her, but that seems to be half the fun. Maybe I want to get caught.

She can’t hide the excitement in her face. Now she wants to get caught. Edging her hand between her legs she fumbles slightly. Stupid, clumsy bitch. London thinks to herself. She scans the room quickly to make sure no one noticed. No one has.

Except for Mr. Haden.

He gives her a quizzical look trying to read her. With her hand now under her panties her body sighs. It’s not an audible sigh, a physical sigh like her body is now at ease that something is between her legs. She feels around her clit, not wanting to go too fast and make herself jump. Even just barely outside her, she feels wet and her finger slips. London quickly closes her legs around her hand, grits her teeth, and remains quiet.

London’s clit is extra sensitive. Her hot teacher in front of her, classmates all around her. Classmates that have no idea what she’s doing. These thoughts make London wetter.

Mr. Haden continues lecturing, but he seems distracted now. His eyes keep casually falling onto London as she slowly flicks her clit. He can’t see exactly what she’s doing, but he knows.

Trying not to squirm too much in her seat London bites her lip harder, moving her finger faster over her clit. Her senses are heightened. It’s like she’s high. She taps her eraser faster against her book. Deciding she might make too much of a scene she slides her fingers inside herself easily, her fingers already slick with a white-hot desire.

Moving her fingers slowly in and out she can hear her walls and her wetness. The girl next to her looks over at her questioningly.

Smiling, London says, “What’s up?”

“Do you hear something?” The girl asks, totally unaware of what London is doing just under her desk.

London pauses her movement. “I don’t hear anything.”

Considering the heat of the moment, she keeps her voice surprisingly calm. The girl looks away, focused once again on their teacher, completely oblivious.

Changing tactic she keeps her fingers inside herself. With some searching, she finds her G spot and presses lightly on it. She gasps. Loudly. Her classmates all look at her in wonder and bewilderment.

Thinking fast London says, “Sorry, I thought I saw a spider.”

They all laugh at her. Her cheeks burn partially from embarrassment, partly from pure exhilaration. While she has a reason for her cheeks to be red she ceases the opportunity and presses harder on her G spot. All her blood goes to her face and to her pussy. She relieves the pressure and presses it again. Again. Again. Faster. Harder.

The release is explosive. Her entire body shudders. London’s knees quiver even though she hasn’t stood up yet. Her cum spills out of her and her panties. It falls in a large puddle onto the inside of her plaid skirt. She digs the tip of her pencil into the textbook so hard it rips through several pages.

It surprises her how completely and utterly oblivious her classmates are.

Then the bell rings dismissing class.

Everyone gets up excitedly, ready for the weekend and very little homework. She stays in her seat until the class has left. Gathering up her things she prepares to leave. Before she can stand, Mr. Haden, closes the door.

“London,” he says eyes alight, “I needed to see you after class.”

 

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