Bree. In the gym. With the panties.

Bree's mouth was starting to water. Maybe it was just because she skipped dinner earlier, but she couldn't get the girl eating the cream out of her mind. She licked her lips and thought giddily to herself "now both pairs of my lips are wet," stifling a giggle. The muffled noise echoed softly as she stepped into the wide, empty gym.

She slid her hands up the sides of her stomach as she crossed into the middle of the room, cupping her breasts as she imagined all the times she's been here, boobs crammed tight into a sports bra. And now they were free! She breathed in deep, gently squeezing her fingers, grinning at the tingle that rushed up her spine, her thumbs and forefingers lingering at her nipples. She couldn't tell if it was the touch or the rush of being here, like this. Both, probably.

Bree let out a long, loud exhale, standing at center court in nothing but panties, her heart racing with the exhiliration of it all. She closed her eyes, reaching her arms out wide, spinning slowly, imagining the crowd of students who had been crammed into these bleachers for an assembly just the other day.

The only thing that could make this better was...

She slid a hand down the front of her panties, one finger finding its way between her warm, slick, tender little slit, its sisters on either side pressing her lips gently against the middle one. Her other hand reached back, sliding in and down her bare butt cheek.

Her thumbs hooked on the cloth and pushed her panties down her thighs. As she bent over, legs locked, she could actually hear her achingly wet pussy lips split open behind her, the gentle sucking sound almost deafening over the roaring silence of the empty gym. A second later, her panties slipped free and landed at her ankles. She stood, lifting her arms in the air and and kicking the last of her clothes away, grinning, head spinning, giddy at her finally complete nakedness.

She hopped softly and dove into a cartwheel, her unsupported breasts jostling with the topsy-turvy motion, her legs parted wide as she rolled toward the empty bleachers, so full of eyes not so long ago. She landed deftly upright, spinning instantly and launching into a toe-touch jump, legs spread wide, arms outstretched, dripping wet little pussy pointed once more at the empty bleachers.

She landed, heart racing, blood pumping, aching for more. She was suddenly so full of energy. She wanted this fun to keep going. She wanted more clothes to shed, more places to shed them in. She wanted more!

But it was getting late. And her panties were laying over there by the three-point line. She skipped over, and as tight as her little ass was, her bared backside jostled nearly as much as her bare breasts with the thud-thud-thud across the hard gym floor. She dropped down hard on those bare cheeks, knees raised and opened wide, scooping up the panties in one hand as she slid further than she expected across the cool floor, the slight wetness of the cotton already just as cool to the touch.

There on the wide open gym floor, completely bared, her panty-less hand found its way between her legs, feeling for the very warm source of that wetness gripped in the other one. Her little lips were so soft, so yielding, so willing to part and let her finger slide so gently over the oh-so-soft, slick flesh, and down inside her. Her breath caught, one finger quickly met by a second, pushing slowly in and out, deeper with each stroke, her panties pressed under her other hand, barely holding her upright as she gasped.

Could she imagine doing this right here like this in the middle of the day? No, no, this was too reckless, too much, too far for the day... Even though this felt so incredibly good right then... But she could get away with something smaller, maybe. Maybe just this part. The part without the panties on, but, with everything else on, still. And the part with these oh-so-incredible fingers...

Her hips started to writhe against her hand as she let out a gasp, echoing softly around the room.

She thought that maybe the rules should be very strict. She would have to put her clothing back on in order, or else, maybe, she couldn't put them back on at all... She gasped at the idea, her fingers pressing in as she imagined her panties laying under the bleachers at the next assembly, resting on the floor under her, in the shadow on that little plaid skirt she has. And they'll be the only panties allowed under her skirt until she crawls under there and gets them back...

She gasped again, this time louder, biting her lip. She couldn't get too carried away with the fingers just now. Even this, here, tonight, was risky. She pulled them out, her pussy protesting with a pitiful little sucking. She swung her arm back to prop herself up, her hand quickly slipping across the floor with the wetness as she fell backward.

She let her knees drop as she lay back, arms and legs wide, her perky breasts with their very stiff little tips pointing up at the cream-colored rafters criss-crossing the ceiling. She could still feel her unsatisfied pussy gently convulsing, her hips rocking ever-so-slightly as her eyes wandered to the slightly-limp looking basketball that'd been lodged up in the corner for as long as she can remember.

No one's even gotten that down. No one's ever gonna play with that basketball. Not for a long time.

She licked her lips, naked there on the floor, staring up at the basketball, griping her panties in her hand. Now both sets are wet, she grinned to herself. Her pussy tightened again, reminding her it's not playing around.

Bree decided that neither was she. She was going to go for it. If she was going to make the rules that she had to put stuff back on in order, then if she didn't put it back on, then she couldn't have it. And she was going to follow through.

She lifted herself up, her breasts bouncing gently as her head swiveled around, staring up at the ceiling.

The corner. There. By the bleachers. Up at the top, near the back.

She could make that throw.

She pulled up, charging across the room, her bare cheeks jostling once more just as much as her breasts as she sprinted a little too noisily up the bleacher steps. She didn't care about that, though. She balled up the panties, took aim, and launched them up.

A perfect shot! They made it right into the notch of the rafter! ... and right out the other side.

But she could make it, and that's what counted! She hopped down, ignoring the jiggling on her chest, grabbed the panties, wadded, climbed, threw.

And this time, they stuck. She could even just barely make out the tip of them up there, hidden away in that notch. No one will ever get that basketball, just like she'll never be able to get her panties back. No one will.

And now, she'll never be able to wear panties to school again.

She bit her lip, aching to finish what she started on the floor. But the sound in here was too loud. And it was too close to the office. And it was getting too late. It was time to fetch what she could and go home.