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Alone Time Vert Fonsay

Stephanie stepped quietly into the washroom, taking a look around and breathing a sigh of relief when she determined that there weren't any other girls present. Normally she could make it through the entire school day but today had been particularly bad, and she could barely wait until recess. Randomly picking the row of cubicles on the left, she hurried to the second stall away from the far wall, which she liked because it was far away from the entrance but wasn't the large, wide-open handicapped spot on the end. The eight-year-old chipmunk had the paranoid fear that someone might peek in on her, and in the handicapped stall, she would be too far away from the door to do anything about it, plus they'd have a perfect view. You see, she didn't need to use these facilities the way they were intended. She had something else in mind.

She locked the stall door behind her, reached up under her skirt, and tugged her panties, pink with a My Little Pony design, down to her fuzzy ankles, before sitting down on the hard molded seat and lifting the hem of her skirt up, exposing the perfect line of the slit between her legs, the one a certain male had recently taught her was called her "pussy". She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she pressed her right hand against her genitals; she was already wet to the touch, and quite warm. Today, as part of a lesson on history, they had watched a movie about the Civil War, and one scene in particular, a scene where a Northern soldier was getting a minor wound to his arm patched up by his love interest, a battlefield nurse, had made Stephanie feel very warm down below, sitting anxiously in her seat towards the back of the class, rubbing her knees together, feeling her juices soaking into the material of her panties. You see, the Northern soldier in question was played by a rather handsome young otter, one who reminded her very much of Robert, the older brother of Emily, one of her best friends. And although she'd never really thought too much about him before that eventful game of hide and seek, since then, she found it very tricky to keep him out of her mind. Watching the otter with his shirt off, sitting there in candlelight, flirting casually with the nurse (who, as a German shepherd, didn't look anything like Stephanie, though the munk couldn't help but put herself in her place) had given her that familiar sexy feeling, and she knew by the time the scene, much less the class, was over, that she would have to find some time to 'let off some steam'.

Now, she began to gently rub her undeveloped lips, up and down, teasing herself a little, shivering as she felt her clit growing harder under her stubby fingers. That had been what Robert had called it, her clit, and while she'd looked up the full name when she got home, she found it awkward to say and didn't like it, so she'd just stuck with 'clit'. She closed her eyes, and for about the millionth time, imagined herself back under Robert's desk, watching him rub and stroke his rigid penis, but in her fantasy, instead of sitting stock still and staring in awe, she was masturbating - "jilling off", he'd called it - to the delightful sight. Pushing a finger between her labia and inside herself, and moving her other hand to squeeze and play with her clit, she pushed the fantasy a little further away from the truth; now, instead of being completely unaware that there was an audience watching him jack off (again, his term, one she really liked), he let go of his erection and leaned back, inviting Stephanie to finish him off. She'd regretted afterwards that she'd never touched him, and had spent quite a lot of time since then wondering what the otter's penis felt like. In the dream, she wrapped both hands around his shaft and began to stroke him up and down, using her own juice as lubrication the way he'd used the petroleum jelly, while in reality, she was unconsciously thrusting her hips forward, humping into her hand as she fingered herself and teased her clit relentlessly. Just as it had when Robert had been teaching her how to do this in the first place, and just as it had on the few occasions since then when she'd put it into practice, the pleasure was already building up inside her. She moved up to pushing two fingers together into her pussy, wishing they were bigger and thicker like the teenaged otter's had been. Speaking of which, as she rubbed and thrusted against the walls of her immature vagina, her juices soaking into her fur, the fantasy kicked it up a notch yet again. This time, she was lying on her back on Robert's bed, and she was kissing him, something she'd dreamed about more than once since their little 'game', and while they kissed, he was rubbing his thick erection against her throbbing clit, rubbing the underside of the shaft against her little button from the head to the base and back again, something she was simulating by rubbing the heel of her palm back and forth across her hard clit. Even in her fantasies, she didn't dare dream of having sex with him, but she was willing to come awfully close. Moaning quietly, she began to whisper his name to herself, something that turned her on even more. "R-Robert... Robert..." She was close, she was so close, a little bit more and she'd have one of those glorious orgasms the otter had taught her about. She was still a little upset that her parents had kept something that made her feel so good a complete secret from her, but right now she hardly cared. All that mattered was touching herself, getting that last bit of pleasure that would push her over the edge and -

Suddenly the door to the bathroom swung open and two giggling girls walked in.

Stephanie bit down on her lip to keep from crying out and yanked her fingers out of her pussy like they'd found a monster deep inside. She sat as still as physically possible, which was hard given that she was breathing hard, her pulse was high, and she needed to finish so, so badly. She felt her pussy squeezing down involuntarily, like it was confused where those fingers that were making it feel so good had gone. The girls, clearly unaware of her presence, picked neighboring stalls on the other side of the room as they talked about the latest Twilight movie, and whether they'd rather fall in love with a vampire or a werewolf. Stephanie didn't like Twilight, she was a Harry Potter girl herself, but even if she'd been the world's biggest fan she wouldn't have wanted to hear that conversation at that moment, praying for the girls to leave so she could reach the orgasm she needed so desperately. She heard the stall doors locking, and the sound of water hitting water, and still they didn't stop their babbling. She couldn't help but whimper in frustration; she could feel her arousal level dropping. It wasn't fair! One of her hands lifted up and moved back between her legs, and, almost against her will, began toying with her clit again, teasing her with pleasure so she wouldn't back away from the brink of orgasm. Her fur was soaked by this point, she could feel drops of her juice running over it the way water runs over a human's skin. To her horror, despite the girls still being there, she realized her clit-play was actually pushing her towards the release she needed once again. It was one thing to jill off by herself, and it was another to be jilled off by a handsome teenage male, but having an orgasm with these two strangers in the room would be humiliating. Yet she couldn't bring herself to stop, instead staring at her tiny, aching clit with panicked eyes. She moved her gaze to her naughty hand and silently pleaded with it to have mercy. "No, please, don't make me have an orgasm, not yet, not like this! Please!"

To her profound relief, the sound of two toilets flushing quickly reached her ears, and she was able to hold her rebellious hand still while the uninvited girls washed and dried their hands and then left, somehow still arguing over the pros and cons of being on Team Edward or Team Jacob. As soon as she heard the door closing again, Stephanie grabbed hold of her clit and plunged her fingers back into her pussy, gasping as a surge of pleasure shot straight up her spine. It wouldn't take long now, and she shot her daydream into overdrive. Her toes curled up inside her sneakers as she imagined herself, still on her back, stroking Robert's thick penis, hearing him gasping and grunting in that strange way, and watching his erection throb in her hands, shooting the hot, sticky cream that was the otter's semen all over her naked abdomen. The munk's hands moved faster and faster, as she approached the brink she could almost smell Robert's musk, almost taste his seed; if it tasted as strong as it had when she licked it off her skirt, she wondered what the flavour would be like if he spurted it directly into her mouth.

That did it.

With that thought, Stephanie cried out as she felt pleasure exploding throughout her tiny body. Dimly remembering that she was in public, she clamped her mouth shut, before focusing on the more important task of riding out the orgasm. Her limbs were twitching, her suddenly extra-sensitive pussy was squeezing down tight on her fingers, making it hard to keep thrusting, and her clit was throbbing against her fingers. Her mind was a white blur, all that mattered was the pleasure.

At some point later, it could have been fifteen seconds or four thousand years, her eyes fluttered open, a big, satisfied smile on her muzzle, her hands, drenched in girl juice, hanging limply by her sides, dripping onto the tile floor. Even her pussy looked tired, sagging open a little, her clit still too big and hard to retreat back under its fleshy hood. She wasn't worried about that, she knew from experience that soon her body would tidy itself up, her genitals would tuck themselves away and she would once more have a perfect line between her legs, a look she liked more than the ugly, wide-stretched pussies she'd seen in the few glances she was able to take at nude females on the Internet before her parents had installed a content lock on the family computer. Bringing her mind back to the present, she giggled quietly to herself and sat up. "Wow, that was a nice one..." She gingerly reached out for the toilet paper, and started to clean herself up, hoping she could become presentable again (and not smell of her girl juices, hopefully; one of her teachers was a bloodhound and he'd given her a very strange look one day when she'd done this just before his class) before the end-of-recess bell rang. Remembering the fantasy of Robert shooting his cream all over her, and how strong her orgasm had been because of it, she came to the solid conclusion that she would pay a visit to Emily's house this weekend...

...Even though Emily herself would be out of town.