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Morning Walker

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10 likes 4 views Category: Masturbation Female Solo Tags: Masturbation, teen fantasies

Every school morning she walks down the path through my woods, and just lately, I’ve made sure I watch her either on the cameras, or with my Zeiss binoculars. 


Everything about this girl drips sex and yet also innocence. There’s just something about her that screams “I’m a virgin…but I have these feelings. Sometimes, at night, I…touch myself.” Miss Brain’s radar has no difficulty in picturing the tight-fitting white panties with a tiny navy blue bow at the front….the white soft trainer bra, and the gentle swell of her belly. 

 

When it’s hot, she walks with her jacket slung over one shoulder, or without one altogether. Sometimes, (be still my beating heart) she might be walking home direct from an after-school PE club, in which case her short, pleated dark green skirt barely covers her bum and reveals the occasional flash of what I’m certain are very moist panties. 

 

 

Either way, there’s something about her that gets me in a muck-sweat. Emily agrees. Only yesterday morning, Emily expertly fingered me off while I stood on my balcony and watched. Em kept up a running commentary of what I’d do with this girl if I got the chance…and what she’d do with this girl too. 

 

 

Fuck! 

 

 

I’ve tried just happening to be on the path, joining it when I saw her, and we have had some brief conversations. Usually, I pretend I’m an early morning runner….this gives me an excuse to wear, well, not much. A crop-top, and maybe labia-hugging shorts. Preferably of a colour that darkens upon contact with moisture…and there’s always a lot of that! Sometimes, joy of joys, I see her eyes flick down to my crotch and their touch feels almost physical! Interestingly, it’s always on the days when I’m exceptionally wet. Usually, when I get back home, I can see the wetness had wicked up the material and is plainly visible. 

 

 

Every girl knows what being ‘wet down there’ feels like. No, I don’t mean the usual daily discharge, I mean the wetness that only comes from arousal….that kind of wetness. Every girl knows it, has experienced it, and has experienced the feelings that go with it. Mentally, it’s the knowledge that your vagina is wetting up, lengthening and widening ready to receive a cock. If you’re lesbian, it’s anticipation of fingers and tongues, and if you’re bi, like me, either or both! 

 

 

Once. Once, and only once, she sat on a fallen tree and we talked for ten minutes or so and I saw up her skirt. An obvious and quite well established damp patch greeted me, and an absolute though unconfirmed certainty that this girl either shaves or is remarkably neatly trimmed. 

 

 

It’s intense. The burning, yearning ache inside to do something, anything.  “Please…just watch me while I finish myself off.” “Please, can we masturbate together?” Please, can I kneel between your legs and lick you out?” “Please, oh, please, may I watch you pee your panties…or even let me suck you while you do?” All frustrated. All come to nought. 

 

 

But holy God…..the wank I have afterwards is stupendous! 

 

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