I peek out of the locker room door. Everyone has left. Nervous, I feel apprehensive about leaving the safety of my hiding place. My pussy is soaking wet. I think of last week when I was taken. I hated him for it. Yet every time I thought of him tearing my leotard, my desire to be retaken rages within me. I have not told my boyfriend yet. He has left for a year. We talked on the phone every night. He said he could hear som...