I’m moving uncontrollably in the seat of the car as I play with my pussy. Increasingly, the movements of my hands are constrained by the tightness o...f my panties as they are stretched to the limit.I stop. For just a moment. Just long enough to lift up my butt and slide my panties down to my thighs.My fingers again slip down between my parted legs and resume rubbing against my mons. It is now glistening from my juices in the sunlight. One, two and then three fingers slip inside of my pussy. I. I wanted to masturbate so badly, so I decided to ask her this time and went to her room. She was on the phone and signaled me to sit near her till she completed her phone call. I was so horny and wanted to push her to the bed, removed her shorts.I took her panties away from her right away to quell my hunger. But then I decided to do what she had asked me to do and sat there. Finally, she ended her call and asked me what had happened da? I told her bluntly that her laundry bin was empty. I. The alarm sounded and I ran like hell to the dark parking lot.The van was back! My heart beat wildly. I considered running away, finding Frank, but Frank was just a sweet old man who was working for fun. (I think he liked looking at and flirting all us girls but he never EVER made a pass at us.) I put the key into the door. Just then someone grabbed me from behind and put his hand over my mouth to muffle my scream. Up to this point I realized my anxiety was just academic. I'm not sure if I. “Tch, yeah, you know all teenage boys play with themselves.” I responded. “Do you?” “Yeah.” She answered. She blushed as she confessed. This was interesting to me because I was unsure of how often women played with themselves. “How often do you play with yourself?” she asked. I wanted to lie and say once a week, but I wanted to establish honesty and spark a sexual relationship too. “Daily, sometimes twice daily.” I said, waiting for an exaggerated response of surprise. “Wow! How do you have.