Something tells me to finish it, sometimes it is the ache which has become unbearable, sometimes the fear of the approaching daylight or a mixture of both. I find a darkish corner and then with my eyes continuously watching the world around me I slip my hand up my skirt. Touching my tights as I pass or the naked thigh if I’m wearing socks and up until I can feel the contours of the stiff, slowly pulsating penis that lies beneath the silky and lacey material. I know that there is a growing damp and sticky patch in one corner of the panties as my body screams it’s pleasure at the situation it finds itself in. My fingers find the best place to touch and with an attempt to control my breathing I pull down the tights to release the panties into the cool air.  I give myself room to manoeuvre and slowly slowly (I want this so bad but it is pure pleasure) I touch the panties, a tremor passes through me as I feel the little bow that has shown me the way in the dark. I let the master out. My fingers grip gently, I love the wetness the warmth and the way it seems to push against my hand. I move my fingers gently, I try to make this last, it never works. My back starts to arch inwards as the spasm fires through me and the master pumps it’s pent up joy into the night air. I try to avoid any of my joy getting on the tights and panties, already knowing that there is a bit of work there to deal with, whilst also trying to enjoying the moment.

It is over and the guilt has come, it comes even before my joy has been fully spent. Now the fears come, Why? Why? I wish I hadn’t done it I wish…. I will never do it again. These thoughts assail me as I make my way back to my hiding place. This time is the last time.

I know that by the time I am in my first lesson of the day I will be dreaming of reliving this experience tomorrow.