In college I had a big m*********** problem, I was addicted to it. It became so severe that I would m********* at least three times day in the toilets on the campus. I couldn’t stop thinking about s**. Things became further intense.
Sitting at the back of an unsupervised classroom, there was only one other person there, a girl whom was doing the same course as I. In front of each desk was a computer and being in the corner, there was no possible way to see what was happening behind the desk where I was sitting.
I don’t know what came over me, but I decided to whip it out and start m*********** to her without her knowing what I was doing, or at least I swear I thought she didn’t know. Her head faced at her book/ at the computers as well, but I could have sworn that as I quietly jacked off in the corner hoping not to get caught that she was moaning under her breathing. It was like she was murmuring about her work but I now had a gut feeling she knew I was jacking off to her and she was moaning/murmuring to assist me c**.
Can’t say I’m particularly proud of that memory, but honestly, the thought of toying with that possible gut feeling, it’s still a turn on today.