David Crane - Schoolgirl peeper

Still, sometimes she had to do it.

Otherwise, there was always the danger that she would come as she sat at her desk, unable to stifle the whimpers that accompanied an orgasm and, even worse, the other kids in class might notice the thick cunt juice running down her legs.

So it was that Jennifer was frequently hot and unhappy as the hours of the school day dragged on, and it seemed she would never get a chance to get at her smoldering cunt.

When the final bell sounded on those days, the poor girl had to sprint home, pussy pulsing and dripping, to claw her climax out before she creamed her panties.

Today was one of those days.

But today Jennifer discovered that the school library happened to be an excellent masturbatorium.

And she discovered other things, as well.

The school library was not open during the afternoon, since most of the students had classes, and one day, the week before, one of Jennifer's teachers had sent her to the library with a key to fetch a reference book required in class. Jennifer had done so, but she had forgotten to return the key. She discovered the key in her handbag today, and having a free period, thought she would return it to the teacher whom had given it to her.

She was walking through the corridors, heading for the teacher's classroom and passing the library on the way. She had actually gone past it when she suddenly stopped, struck by a marvelous idea. The library would be deserted at this hour. It was a comfortable place where a girl could relax, without worrying about interruptions or having juicy, incriminating sounds overheard. It was, in fact, the ideal place for her to get her rocks off during her free period.

Jennifer grinned with enthusiasm.

She had been trying to sublimate the yearnings in her loins. Now her pussy began to steam with anticipation. She turned and went back, looking around to make sure there was no one else watching her, but not really worried because she could always claim that she was merely returning the key.

The corridor was empty. She unlocked the door to the library and went in, locking it behind her again. She giggled, feeling like a burglar or sneak thief. That feeling added to the thrill of the situation. Sexy things were almost more exciting when they were a bit naughty, or a bit risky, she thought. And if they were really naughty they would be awfully exciting. That was why she always let her imagination run away with her when she was giving herself a hand-job. She was liable to imagine the most wicked things that added spice to the act.

For instance, she liked to pretend that she was getting gang banged. Now, Jennifer never for a moment expected that she would ever be a willing party to a cluster fuck, but thinking about it was tremendously stimulating. De pending on the mood she was in, she would imagine that half a dozen lusty young men were fucking her, one right after the other, shooting their cum into her cunt in sequence while she came on each prick, in turn. Or she might really stretch her imagination to the limits and pretend that three men were screwing her at the same time. One would be in each orifice, with her nubile body buffeted between them, squirming with pleasure as those three stout pricks hosed her from all sides and she melted in creamy release. That fantasy really turned her on, but it was just that, a fantasy. It could never really happen because, although she knew that eventually she was going to get fucked, she never dreamed of taking it up the ass in actuality.

And what should she think about today?

A dozen escaped convicts, maybe?

That was always a lovely fantasy.

Huge, hard, hairy, horny criminals, just broken out of prison, devoid of women for years and with vast loads of cum stored up in their balls during their incarceration. She imagined their long cocks, massive and rampant, more like the tools that these men had used to break into safes or batter down locked doors, than normal cocks. Sometimes she thought of being raped by the convicts, and at other times she imagined herself taking pity on them, because they hadn't been fucked for so long a time, and spreading her legs as they fucked her, one by one and then came back for seconds.

Or the basketball team?

Most of the boys on the team were kind of ugly, gangly lads with plenty of blemishes but they were tall. Jennifer liked to imagine that their pricks were in proportion to their heights and that, when they shot, a lump of jism as big as a basketball was dunked into her hairy pussy hole.

Maybe the football team!

She had a pet fantasy about sneaking into the locker room at halftime and giving head to the whole team while they were wearing their padded armor and helmets, still hot and sweaty from the violent game and then blowing the water boy, too, just for the hell of it.

The baseball team had certain fantasy value, too.

Pricks the sizes of bats could get a girl churned up; no doubt of that. Their cum whacked into her like a fastball into a catcher's mitt, or slipped in like a sliding base runner.

Sometimes she even thought about girls.

Jennifer was certainly not a lesbian, neither practicing nor latent, and because she was sure of that, she didn't mind fantasizing about other girls, she thought that lesbianism was terribly perverted and that made it all the more exciting to imagine and pretend.

She thought about playing with plump titties and stroking juicy cunts and once in a while, when she was feeling really hot and horny and naughty, she would wonder what it was like to suck a cunt. She never imagined making love with any girl she knew, but always with some stranger whom she had just met, some girl or woman who did not even know her name, so that she could be as depraved as she wished and not have to worry about being embarrassed later, when she saw the girl again.

Often the fantasy girls were faceless, often they were dumb, frequently were shadow-figures but they always had nice fat, creamy cunts and big stiff nipples, and they panted and moaned and whimpered when Jennifer made them come.

It was hard to decide which fantasy to think about today.

She didn't like to switch from one to the other. She preferred to carry the same image on through the hand job.

She decided that she would simply start stroking her pussy and see what image sprang to her mind.

Then she wondered where to do it. The librarian's chair looked comfortable. But the desk was right in front of the door and it might not be that safe because it was always possible that some teacher might stop by with a key. Jennifer didn't like to have to worry about interruptions when she was frigging merrily away on her pussy. It was really awful to have to stop in the middle of pleasant pussy petting or, worse, in the midst of a climax.

She vividly remembered one time when that had happened. It had been both frustrating and embarrassing. Jennifer had been playing with her pussy in the bathtub, a place she frequently enjoyed a hand job. She had soaped her plump tits up first, pretending that the soap lather was cum. Her nipples became nice and stiff and tingling. Then she had settled back, knees lifted, rubbing her cunt to a foam just below the surface of the warm water.

She had just started to come when her father walked in!

He had not realized that the bathroom was occupied, but he wasn't embarrassed by it. He had merely come to get something out of the medicine cabinet, and excusing himself to Jennifer, had proceeded to do so. It obviously had not occurred to him that his daughter was now a nubile and sexy young lady and that he should not be looking at her, naked in the bathtub.

Nor would it have embarrassed Jennifer if her nipples had not been erect and her cunt just starting to melt.

Her father had got what he came for and turned, smiling. Then he raised his eyebrows when he saw that his daughter's tit-tips were standing out.