Soldier on

Margaret stopped herself just as her hand was sliding into her panties. NO! she thought. I'm not going to do this in a shared restroom!

She stood up, straightened her clothes, and left the stall. She did all she could to distract herself from the itch and the thoughts of sex. She clenched her fists and tried to think of anything other than sex. She marched into her office.

Margaret sat at her desk and started to grade essays. She clenched her thighs together and clenched her jaw and squinched her face. "Oh god!" she said. She slid her chair back. She took her blazer, blouse, and bra off then vigorously rubbed her nipples. "Ahhhh!" she moaned.

After the itching stopped, she put her blouse back on then her blazer then buttoned the blazer up. She then put the bra in her desk drawn and hiked her skirt up. She started rubbing herself through her panties. She got some satisfaction from her itch, then there was a knock on her door. She had forgotten it was office hours for students to come by. She quickly pulled her skirt down. She took a couple of deep breaths. "Come in!"

The door opened, and one of her students, Elle Githens, a smart, strident feminist who often argued with Margaret about the "hook up" culture. "Dr. Snead, do you have a moment?"

"Um, of course Elle, come on in. Have a seat," Margaret slid her chair as close to her desk as she could and clenched her thighs as the itch started again. "What is it?"

"I was thinking about what you say about casual sex," said Elle.

God, don't bring up sex! thought Margaret. "What is it?"

"Maybe you have a point," said Elle, "after all, isn't casual sex with no consequences and no commitment just what men want?"

It's what I want! thought Margaret. Her eyes went wide, and she blushed at the thought she just had.

"Are you OK, Professor Snead?" asked Elle.

"Um, yes, well, no, I'm feeling a bit under the weather."

"Oh, should I come back Wednesday?"

"Yes, that would be nice, Elle."

"OK, I hope you get better."

"Thank you."

Elle left, and as soon as the door shut, Margaret shoved her chair back and started rubbing herself through her panties again. She got a text from Natalie.

_Got laid yet? _with a winking emoji.

"So glad you always get rides home," mumbled Margaret.

Don't you have classes to flunk? Margaret texted back.

"Ugh, I can't take this!" She got up, hurried to her door and locked it. She undid her skirt and let it fall to her ankles. She plunged her hand down her panties and started fingering herself right there by her office door.

Margaret sank to her knees as she fingered herself. "Oh god!" she moaned. She kept it up until she brought herself to orgasm, which took far longer than she hoped. After she came, she went to her desk and grabbed some tissue to clean up. She then put her skirt back on, hung a note on her door that apologized for not being available during office hours, and drove home.

By the time she got home, the itching in her crotch had started again.

Natalie was on the couch looking at her phone while some show about rich teens was on the TV.

Margaret hurried through the living room and into her bedroom. She slammed the door, locked it, and stripped. Soon she was in the shower, fingering herself again, but this time thinking about getting laid.