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God, I hate school. Sure, people say that all the time, but I really mean it. For one, I go to a private Catholic school. . . and I’m atheist. And we have to wear these awful uniforms- hideous pleated skirts that go all the way down to our knees (but that doesn’t stop certain girls from rolling up the waistband until their underwear- or lack thereof- is showing) and we all have to wear white button-down shirts and plaid ties, even the girls. And, to go along with our skirts, girls have to wear knee-high white socks and mary janes. A lot of girls (myself included) love the uniforms when they’re slut-i-fied. Seriously, it’s like the administration was asking for perverted Catholic school girl fantasies. They’re so removed from the world of sex and porn that they’ve probably never even heard of such a thing. I’m actually one of the few short-skirted Escort bodrum girls who’s still a virgin. It’s not because I want to be. . . I’m just waiting for the right person. Someone mature, who I know will care for me instead of making me another conquest. I’d never admit it to my friends, but I’ve fantasized about getting “extra credit” from several of our teachers-women too. And once, when it was the time of the month when I was super horny, I day-dreamed about seducing my parents simultaneously. Only once! God, now that I’m thinking about all that, I’m hornier than ever. I still have an hour and a half before school is out but I don’t think I can wait any longer. At class change, I unroll my skirt, trying to look as innocent and pious as possible. I walk boldly to my car (if you act like you’re Escort Kuşadası doing nothing wrong, the administrators will assume you are, in fact, doing nothing wrong), and drive out of the parking lot as slowly as I can bear to wait. I have to pee. I’ve had to for about an hour now, ever since I downed those water bottles at lunch. I haven’t been wetting myself for long, and I always have to be absolutely desperate to allow myself to do it. Otherwise, I still feel a little weird about it. I cross my legs as best I can while driving, speeding now that I’m out of the school zone. Luckily, I don’t live far away. My car is my baby, and as sexy as I find pissing, I’m not about to ruin the upholstery. My parents are both at work, my brother at classes at the nearby university, and I have the entire house to bodrum escort myself. What will I do today? For a while I’ve been fantasizing about wetting myself in my uniform, and now I have enough time to wash it before anyone comes home. I park the car and waddle up the sidewalk, already close to leaking. My bladder is full to burst, and I have to pee so badly that it kills. I unlock the door quickly and hurry inside before the neighbors can see me. They’re just the type to call my parents and tattle on me. I’m not even sure I can make it up the stairs and to my private bathroom. With each step up the stairs, a little bit of pee escapes and makes a tiny spot on my underwear. I roll up my skirt back to my preferred length. How will I soak the skirt? Roll it back down and tuck it between my legs? I could just imagine the rivulets of pee streaming down the length of the skirt and warming my legs. Or should I keep it short but pull it tight against my crotch? Then I could watch the spot slowly growing larger in my full-length bathroom mirror. It’s a close call, but I make it up the stairs, through my room and into the bathroom.