Thursday began the way Wednesday ended. My fingers between my legs.
This time though, I wasn't at all tired, and had woken from one of those dreams where you can't quite remember what it was about, but you knew it was rude, somehow.
My body remembered something about the dream though, because I was almost as damp as I had been the night before, and desperate to do something about it.
The morning was calm and warm, and I threw back the blankets, lay on my back and propped my head up on a couple of pillows so I could see what I was doing.
I straightened my legs first of all, and then slowly pulled them up towards my butt, spreading my knees gradually, exposing my pink wetness to the air, and to my eager hands.
I could never quite figure out why, but I came much harder when I could see what I was doing. I liked to watch my fingers flicking in and out of my pussy, stroking up and down my labia, tickling over my dark thatch. I liked to see my fingers glistening with my moisture, to smell that odour which only an aroused woman can exude.
Somehow I was able to daydream at the same time, imagining that it wasn't my own fingers doing the walking; that someone else was encouraging me to open my legs; that there was a fat cock or a swift tongue caressing me.
And somehow, this time at least, it all worked. Images of guys, and glistening pussies, and fingers, penises, nipples and straining muscles danced before my head, and after hardly any time, I came, strong and clear, grunting helplessly with the pleasure, twitching in time to my pulsing groin.
I felt so great I'd have happily started all over again, but my concentration was broken by the clangour of my alarm clock, and by time I'd bashed it severely in punishment, I'd lost enough of the urge that I decided to get up and ready.
I debated the need for a shower, and decided eventually that I'd better. Horny girls smell, and while it's nice at the time, stale arousal doesn't work for me.
Soon I was in the shower, in that state of bliss that isn't close to sex, but is wonderful just the same. My long hair was under the spray, washing off the shampoo, when suddenly the events of yesterday came flooding back. I realised then that my dream was about the same thing.
Suddenly I was terrified. Not all of me though. Part of me was horny again. Not horny enough to do anything about it, but buzzing a little. Nicely. I tried to balance that with the fear, and got nowhere. I never did.
Finishing my shower, I headed for the wardrobe, knowing full well that I was going to go ahead and wear the skirt.
In the end, after some consideration, and not a little wondering about who might have accosted me, I wore a blue tank top, and a pair of matching panties. Two reasons for this. First off, Ray bought these for me. A part of me wondered if it might be him I was dressing for, so it seemed appropriate. The second reason was a little ludicrous. I wondered if perhaps blue panties under a blue skirt would be a little more difficult to see. I needn't have bothered. The blue didn't match, and the skirt was too short to be able to avoid being seen, at least now and then.
I stood in front of the mirror for a while, jiggling and twirling, watching the effect. If I was careful, I could keep things decent most of the time, and possibly I could claim I thought it would be alright. Just. I was going to get hell about this.
Of course, there was always the option to change my mind, and put something else on, but I'd agreed, and I didn't go back on my word easily. Anyway, to be honest, which I usually was with myself, I liked the buzz.
I decided to go ahead with it, and made my way to the kitchen. No one was there, as usual, and I grabbed some breakfast, and headed down to classes. I had swapped backpacks, and walked calmly back through the park where so much had happened yesterday, even stopping to twirl around the spot from which I'd been dragged into the bushes.
I felt really good, and it showed.
Hitting a good stride the rest of the way there, I skipped up the steps of the admin building, and headed for my locker to swap some books. It wasn't until I got to the main entrance that I realised I should have taken my time on the steps, if I didn't want to show off my panties. I didn't really care though.
There were only a few people strolling back and forth as I reached my locker. Just as well, because as I opened it I was presented with a large piece of paper taped up inside; a message printed on it in a large font.
I quickly closed the locker door, suspicious of everything today, but not without cause. I opened the door again slowly, just far enough to read the note.
Thanks Heather
Love the skirt. You look so hot!
Now lose the panties. Here. Now. Yes, really. It's not like you don't have plenty more.
You said you'd play the game. Did you think it would all be easy?
Toss them in the locker, and carry on with your day.
I promise I won't make any more demands of you. Well, not today.
Now, Heather!
Okay, first read, and I just laughed. There was no way. By the time I got through it a second time, I wasn't so sure. Once more, and I was looking around me, checking for an opportunity.
Suddenly there wasn't anyone in sight, and I slipped my shoes off, hoisted my skirt up at the sides, and yanked the blue bikini panties down my legs, flicking them off one foot back into my hands. I threw them into the back of the locker without hesitating, walked back onto my shoes, and tried to pull my skirt down.
It didn't move very far, and I was very nervous. The buzz, though, had stepped up a notch, and I knew I was going to continue. I swapped the books I'd come for in the first place, and headed for my first lecture, walking carefully, feeling very naked, very naughty, and oh so very horny.
I arrived at my first class, and sat with my good friend Annie. She was the best thing about history class. The lecturer was appalling. Under normal circumstances I could fall asleep in here. Annie's whispered chatter stopped that.
As I expected, Annie stared at me as I walked in, grinned, and said nothing. After I sat down, she gossiped about everything that could possibly have happened since we last caught up a couple of days before, and I actually forgot about my state of dress for a while.