The next day I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about Mr. Reynolds’ thick married cock pulsing in his fist while he stared at my soaked little cunt through the glass.

My panties were ruined by lunchtime just from replaying it. My pussy was still sore from the two orgasms I’d fucked myself through after I killed the light, fingers buried knuckle-deep while I imagined that thick married cock spraying all over his window.

I skipped classes, then drove straight to the mall, and spent every last dollar of my coffee-shop tips on the sluttiest lingerie I could find: a sheer black babydoll that was basically see-through mesh, so short it...