A Game Before Recess
She sat beside me, legs crossed at the knees, elbows resting on the wooden arm of the chair, her face cupped in her palms—a portrait of concentration during the professor's lecture, capturing the attention of everyone in the room.
Casually, I slipped off my black school shoe with the tip of my foot, smoothly lifting my white socks as I pulled my leg out. With a gentle touch, my toes traced along her bare shins, delicately caressing.
Her immediate response was a stern gaze, silently signaling me to stop, before swiftly returning to her previous attentive posture, skillfully avoiding any potential reprimand from the professor.
A smirk crossed my face; there was no intention of stopping.
No.
Having waited for two weeks to catch a glimpse of her, not in illusion but reality, I harbored desires to touch her skin, explore every curve, inhale the essence of her body, savor each inch, and venture into realms untouched even by her.
My heart, a feeble organ on my left, had been pumping not blood but her name for the past two weeks. I couldn't help but envision us in a mysterious place, locked in a passionate kiss, leaving each other breathless.
Continuing to playfully run my toes along her shins, I discovered she was more affected by it than I had imagined. A silent laughter echoed within me.
Every passing second intensified the challenge. Despite her sitting right in front of me, the frustration of not being able to kiss her or indulge in any desired intimacy grew unbearable.
In response to my teasing, she shifted her legs to the right, attempting to escape my playful advances. It thrilled me, the way she teased back, but I couldn't let her slip away so easily.
No way.
The tension between my legs increased, the anticipation growing tighter and more heated with each passing moment.
I slid down in my seat, reaching out to her legs again. The soft, shiny texture felt like marshmallow against my hard toes, and I reveled in the sensation of caressing them.
Driven by my own fervent desires, I pulled myself up, adjusting on the wooden chair. Grabbing a pen from my pencil box, I opened my notebook.
"I want to lick these marshmallows."
I wrote the words, cut the paper, folded it, and discreetly placed it in my notebook. Passing it to her above her shoulder, she flipped it open, her gaze returning to me with a silent warning not to ignite the flame between her thighs at that moment. However, I could already sense it burning; her eyes couldn't hide the truth.
Standing up, I mustered the courage to ask the professor for permission.
"Ma'am, may I go to the restroom?" I felt everyone's gaze shifting towards me, but I didn't care about anyone in the room.
Her eyes traced from my face to my little finger raised like a sword, and she granted me the permission to leave.
I leaned forward, pretending to gather my belongings and close my pencil box, but instead, I reached over her shoulder and disclosed the secret plan.
"Girls' washroom. Soon."
She frowned, signaling a hesitant refusal. The girls' washroom seemed like the most secluded and secure spot at that moment, and, considering it wasn't recess time, I had deemed it the best location.
Leaving the class, I positioned myself around the corner and patiently waited for her. It took her about five minutes to emerge from the class. I had no idea what excuse she made to the professor, but that wasn't my concern. What mattered was her.
There she was, debauching the perks of a smile and a lingering shyness on her face. She approached me, lowering her gaze before turning around to open the washroom door.
Taking the lead, I followed her inside, slamming the door shut behind us. Now, it was just the two of us—alone. I pressed her against the wall.
"It's risky," she whispered.
"Men love risks," I replied, trailing my lips over hers.
"What if we get caught?" she voiced her concern.
I interrupted her, "Right now, I don't want any 'what ifs' between us." Without allowing any further words, I sealed her mouth with mine.
As I explored, her chest rose and fell with anticipation. My hands traveled down, gently cupping her breasts, eliciting a moan from her within the confines of our passionate kiss.
"Oh, I want to savor your sweetness," I murmured, pulling away, leaving her gasping for air.
"No. No," she protested, narrowing her eyes and suppressing a smile that threatened to surface.
"Oh, come on. You'll love it," I insisted, trailing my fingertips over her bare thigh, moving upward until they reached the hem of her checkered skirt. Her eyes followed the direction, and she extended a hand in an attempt to halt my progress.
"Let me finish," I asserted, snapping her hand away and planting a kiss on her lips. Slowly, I moved my hand upward along her thighs, and she closed her eyes as I continued.
My fingers traced around the hemline of her panties before delving into the intimate pool. Just as I lifted the elastic of her panties, she swiftly snaked her hands around my head, locking her fingers. With a swift movement, she pushed me back against the wall to my right, breathing on my lips.
"Let's play a little game with your balls before recess," she whispered, her breath wisps brushing against my lips as she trailed her nails down my neck, eventually reaching my pants to unbuckle my belt.
Swiftly, I intercepted her intentions, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her closer. "Turning my game over me, eh?" I teased, sniffing the nape of her neck and licking her jawline.
"No, but I think you'd enjoy it too," she giggled, pushing me back. "So, let me finish."
Her hands resumed their journey, unzipping my pants. I could feel her sliding inside, exploring every inch, up and down—everywhere. If I had to sum up my feelings in one word, it would be levitating. Her touch made me feel as light as a feather, floating in the air as I savored the sensation.
Unexpectedly, she went further. Gradually, her fingertips slid inside my underwear, gliding over my swords and reaching my chalice, squeezing it slowly. Our moans echoed in the silence of the girls' washroom, and we exchanged smirks in the heated moment of passion.
Locking eyes, I zipped up my pants, turned around, and left her alone in the aftermath.