It started when I was in junior high school. One day, as I was sitting in the back of the classroom during study hall, I began to daydream about one of the older boys in the school. Unconsciously, my hand drifted under my skirt, and my fingers were lightly rubbing the edge of the elastic of my panties. Vickie's voice, from the seat behind me, was startling when she whispered, "Oh, Barb, isn't that lovely." "Shut up! Someone might hear you!" "Don't worry, No one is paying any attention." Then Vickie's hand was suddenly under my skirt, feeling the location of my fingers. She squeezed my hand, and her hand drifted slowly, gently upward. "Where is it?" Her fingers generated marvelous feelings as they caressed my pubic mound. But, all too soon, the bell rang and it was time to leave. Confused, I tried to avoid her as we left school, but she caught up to me and walked beside me. "I can make it feel really good," she
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