In the eighth grade we had some pretty boring teachers. Nothing to get a horny 14 year old excited, anyway; except when Mr Johnson the boys' PE teacher filled in when our History or English teachers were sick. How we prayed that old Mrs Gonzalez or crazy Ms Zuckerman would come down with something-just so we'd have 50 minutes of staring at that ass; a pair of rock-hard cheeks that were a legend amongst the girls and gays of the school.
Being 14 meant that the torture of ogling couldn't be endured without a little, ahem, stimulation. Hands disappeared under skirts and in pants pockets. Girls who had mastered the art of hands-free orgasm squeezed thighs and flexed pussy muscles. Some, like me, who couldn't even stand that level of frustration usually spent the later part of the lesson with their bare ass parked on a toilet seat jerking their little pussies with that tight, tight little arse or massive junk pictured in their minds-eye.
It wasn't just that butt, of course. We were all cock, dick, schlong, pecker, dork crazy at that age, and Mr Johnson had a wonderful habit of perching himself on the end of the desk so that his package swelled the front of his pants to the point of bursting, and to the almost audible groan of 15 teenage girls desperately trying to store the image in their dirty little minds for future onanistic use.
One day when we were expecting Mrs Gonzalez to appear, the door opened and Mr Johnson was framed in the doorway.
'Sorry everyone, I just heard that Mrs Gonzalez is sick and I haven't had time to change..'
O fucking shit...a tight spandex top, and the tiniest, tightest pair of shorts you could imagine. Thick hairy muscular thighs bared to our hungry eyes and the package and butt-cheeks framed to perfection.
The faint sound of 15 teenage pussies spraying their painties simultaneously was the only sound in the room.
The ususal furtive clit rubbing and thigh squeezing began immediately, but perhaps a bit less discreetly than ususal. It didn't take long before some of the girls started going to the can to beat off, I held off till 20 minutes in, until he perched on the desk, his junk wobbling for two glorious seconds-fuck!
I rubbed myself raw for about a month with the mental images from that 20 minutes, and the stories of the remaining 30 from the other girls, how he'd adjust himself and drag the junk back and forward....and other stuff they probably made up, but still made for good whacking material for a horny 14 year old!
Looking back on it I think he knew exactly what he was doing. He always seemed to have a smirk on his face when someone asked to go to the John, as if he knew she was going to whack off. He also smirked when he spotted a girl with her hand hidden and especially if she gave herself away by quckly pulling it out with a red face.