Chapter 10

For days after my adventure with Gary at the library I felt really stupid. I had taken big risks and gotten away with it, but if some librarian had caught me I would have been in really big trouble. I could have been expelled from school; my parents would probably send me to a convent or something. I had taken an enormous risk by pulling that nerd Gary into my fantasy. It had worked out OK; in fact, it was very, very sexually satisfying. But exposing myself to a total stranger in a secluded place was an invitation to rape. I had been lucky this time, but I promised myself that I would not be so stupid again. The only problem was that I had really gotten off by doing it.

I tried to force myself to think logically about my situation and realistically look at the facts. I was 14, almost 15, and lived at home. I was a virgin. I wanted to stay a virgin. I liked sex. I loved big orgasms. I didn't have a boyfriend. I couldn't seem to have big, satisfying orgasms in my own bed. Exposing my body turned me on. Being naked in places where I shouldn't be naked turned me on. I loved big orgasms. I like being in control. I don't like being forced. I like teasing boys. I loved big orgasms. I didn't want to get caught. I didn't want a reputation as a wanton whore. I loved big orgasms. There had to be a way to work all of these things into a happy life, but having big orgasms and staying safe didn't seem possible. As they say these days, I was conflicted.

I really needed to talk things out with somebody, but this problem was not something I could share with my girlfriends. I had never been a person to confide deep feelings to my friends anyway, but even if I were inclined to talk with them about it, they really wouldn't understand. My best friend was both deeply religious and deeply virginal. She really thought masturbation was a sin that you would go to hell for, and that sex of any kind before marriage was pretty much impossible. As far as I knew, only one of my close girlfriends was sexually active, and she was an idiot. OK, maybe that's a little harsh, but Andrea was not a deep thinker. She had latched on to the boy next door (literally) several years back, and apparently kept him happy with her sexual favors. She sort of bragged about it among her friends, but I suspected that he was mainly the one who was satisfied. And since she was one of the biggest gossips in the school, there was no way I was going to let her know what I was doing. So I kept all my troubles inside.

It took about three days for the itch to start up again between my legs. Or maybe it was all in my head, but even though I was masturbating every night, I wasn't satisfied. I started to think about it all the time. Looking back on my teenage years from a mature perspective, sex was like a drug. I was addicted to orgasms. You get a fix, and it lasts for a while, then the cravings start again. I was hooked. When the cravings started, my brain shut off, or at least I wasn't realistic about what I was doing. Of course, I was basically a kid with an adult addiction.

I was keeping up with my regular homework, but my research paper was looming over my head like a dark cloud. I had a rough draft going, and had most of the references I needed, but there was one topic that I couldn't seem to find a reference that fit my theme. Of course, I really hadn't worked at it very hard, but time was growing short. I decided to go back to the neighborhood branch library to take another look at some of the books I had found there in the hope that I could work some of them into my half-written paper. Oh, and maybe I could get off while I was there. Wednesday afternoon, I got there as soon as I could after school. There were a few other students there when I arrived, and more and more came in over the next hour. Unlike the time before, the small library was crowded with people, mostly other students doing the same thing that I was, I guess. I found the books I was looking for, and two of them actually looked like pretty good references. Because it was so crowded, I decided to check out the books and work on them at home. I left the library and walked up the hill to the picnic area. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, and I thought I would sit there and read for while before walking home. I put my stuff on a picnic table, and sat down under a big pine tree to read.

There was no lady-like way to do that in a knee length skirt. The most comfortable position was to lean back against the tree with my knees up, which, of course, exposed my panties to the world. I tried sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me, but that was uncomfortable. If I crossed my legs, it was more modest, but not as comfortable. I ended up shifting around so I was facing away from the street, crossed my legs and put my hand under my skirt. That way, I could read and finger myself at the same time. I had been pleasantly doing just that for a few minutes when I heard footsteps behind me. Looking over my shoulder I could see a kid walking up the hill towards me, and I slipped my hand out from under my skirt. He looked vaguely familiar, and just as he got close, I realized that he was the kid from the library who had almost caught me masturbating. He sat down on the picnic table bench.