**Caught in the Hallway**

I wasn’t supposed to see it. But when I turned the corner near the lockers after class, there she was—Dima’s girlfriend, Lena, pressed against the wall, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her fingers working furiously between her legs.

She had her head tilted back, biting her lip to stifle the moans, but I heard them anyway—soft, breathy little gasps that made my dick twitch in my pants. Her uniform blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show the lace edge of her bra, and her tits swayed slightly with every frantic motion of her hand.

I should’ve walked away. Should’ve pretended I didn’t see. But I couldn’t fucking move.

Her pussy was already glistening, her fingers sliding in and out of her cunt with obscenely wet sounds. “Fuck,” she whimpered, hips jerking forward as she rubbed her clit in tight little circles. “Oh, fuck, Dima…”

That’s when I realized—she wasn’t just masturbating. She was thinking about him. About how he fucked her. About how he made her feel.

And God help me, I wanted to watch.

I leaned against the lockers, palming my cock through my jeans as she fucked herself faster. Her thighs trembled, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. “Yeah, just like that,” she whispered, voice husky. “Just like when you bend me over and—fuck—”

She came suddenly, back arching off the wall as her pussy clenched around her fingers. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry, juices dripping down her thighs.

That’s when she saw me.

Our eyes locked. For a second, neither of us moved. Then, slowly, Lena smirked.

“Like what you see?” she murmured, pulling her fingers from her pussy and sucking them clean, never breaking eye contact.

I swallowed hard. My cock was rock-fucking-solid.

She took a step toward me, hips swaying. “Dima never catches me,” she whispered, trailing her wet fingers down my chest. “But maybe… you’d like to?”

Her hand slid lower, cupping me through my jeans. I groaned.

“Or,” she added, leaning in, “maybe you’d like to help me finish next time?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

Because the next second, the bell rang—and with one last smirk, Lena adjusted her skirt, turned, and walked away.

Leaving me there, hard as hell and aching.

And knowing goddamn well I’d be back to watch again.