I manage to sneak under the stall doors, dodging feet and humming spy music in my head. I creep along to the back of the wall, whence I watch at my leisure as girl after girl pull down their pants before evacuating their bowels. I learn a lot of things — that girls fart as much as guys do, and it stinks just as bad; that the head cheerleader has a pimple on her ass; that one of the girls in my science class doesn't wipe; and most importantly, that nobody really takes in their surroundings before taking a dump. One girl etches something I can't make out on the inside of the bathroom stall, and only then do I notice that there are messages etched on the inside of the bathroom stall.
However, as classes begin to roll around, I realize that there won't be much for me to fap at for the next forty-five minutes. If I want to gaze at any unsuspecting butts, I need to get mine over to the locker room showers, and if I don't leave right away, I might not be able to get in until second class.
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