All through my teen years I was a total scaredy-cat, sissy, wimpy masturbator. I lived for masturbation and recoiled from social situations, which always made me feel like a loser. Everything except masturbation felt humiliating; masturbation felt exhilerating! I was always searching for something, anything to arouse myself and improve my masturbation session. Since I had to be in school for 8 hours a day, I made a passion out of what was available. Back when I was in high school, girls were required to wear skirts or dresses, which meant I always had girls' legs to look at. And, on occasion, if I was ever so lucky, I'd get a glimpse up a girl's skirt, perving on her thighs, and once in a blue moon, her panties! My nirvana, my ark of the covenant, my holy grail, was to catch an unaware girl and stare up her skirt at her panties. 

I study hall, I would regularly switch books from under mny seat to my desktop, switching every few minutesm, and when my head was lowered, I'd turn backwards and scan under girls' desks for knees spread even a little apart. The study hour would pass by with my book-switching and horizon scanning, every so often catching a glimpse of my quarry!

Even better was the cafeteria where rows of picnic-style benches meant that I was facing the opposite-facing bench on under the neighboring table. I spent many lunch hours seeking out the best spots from which to peer up skirts. There was one particular girl, Sally, who had a tendency to let her legs splay, so I'd wait for her to take her seat and then line up my view, hoping that those seats weren't already taken by the jocks or greasers, since I was certainly excluded from those groups.

One day I hit the jackpot! I watched her sit between her girlfriends and discovered the perfect viewing bench at the adjacent table giving me an unimpeded view. I was so happy she was wearning a particularly short skirt that day. My heart raced as I glanced from my lunch tray to her legs every 2 seconds or so. And then, suddenly, the highlight of my high school years, she and her friends got into a laughing fit and as Sally twisted from side-to-side, her legs parted completely. I might have gasped out loud, as my prayers had been answered. Not only did I have a great view, but Sally was wearing thigh-high stockings held in place by a garter belt whose straps perfectly framed her little white panties. It was only stark fear that kept me from masturbating right then and there. 

The next 30 minutes stressed me to the limit of sexual excitement. One moment she'd have her legs spread wide, and then the next moment they'd close together depriving me of my stimulating view. I hunker down and tried to stay calm. Other students would sit down for a meal, and leave after several minutes. Sometimes my view would be blocked and I'd surreptitiously adjust to one side or the other. Every so often I'd get a blazingly powerful and full view of Sally's stockings-enveloped thighs, garter straps and white panties. That image is burned into my brain even today, so many decades later.

When Sally left with her friends, I did also, holding the tray close to my lap to hide my semi-erect penis! As usual, I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself before geometry class. When I entered the bathroom I noticed no one else there. And when I unzipped and readied myself to urinate, my semi-erect penis sent a signal to my brain, a signal I rarely ignored! So, I took my left hand and fondled the underside of my penis, and it immediately responded in two ways. First, it rapidly filled with blood reaching full, straining erect dimensions. I was surprised at such a quick reaction, but even better, the strokes I'd applied to my dick sent a signal to my brain that I was fully aroused. Right away, my thought was, "Oh my God, I'm close to cumming!"

I couldn't help but grabbing my cock and stroking away. I looked to my left: four stalls, no noise, they must be empty, three unrinals, also empty; to my right: three sinks, and then the door. Someone could come in at any second and see me jacking off right there in the public bathroom. I thought, "This is crazy, someone's likely to enter and see me jacking off right there at the urinal. I have to stop!"

But I couldn't make myself stop, I just had this incredible urge to keep going to jack off regardless of the consequences. With my jaw gone slack and my eyes peeled toward the door and my right hand jerking my erect cock like mad, the pleasure was double or triple the intensity until I peaked and with an audible panting gasp of pure pleasure, maybe the purest sense of pleasure I'd ever felt, I spurted my loser load into the urinal, three, four, five spurts as my head dropped back in ecstasy, and I thought, "What a perverted masturbator I am! I just came right here in public in the boy's bathroom where anyone might have seen me!" 

But it was so good, even the after orgasms pettings of the underside of little penis continued to resonate with the endorphins pleasuring my brain! Of course, it says a lot about me that my Sally, garter, panty, public masturbation session was one of the highlights of my life!