Missy Day Ten
School was boring and uneventful that Wednesday. I sat in English class listening to my teacher ramble on about the differences between two types of poems. Talk about boring. I squirmed in my seat. It seemed the more sex I got, the more I wanted. Every stray thought I had now always ended up back to sex and when I was bored, boy did my mind run rampant. I reached down to scratch an itch on my bare knee. Sitting down at our little desks made my school uniform skirt reach the middle of my...