Tales of aUndergrad's Jacket Fetish W/ Sensitive Nipples - 1

A long time ago, I learned that I had sensitive nipples. If I rubbed the right kind of fabric against it, I quickly learned that I could induce sensations similar to an orgasm, convulsions and all.

This meshed very well with my fetishes for women's nylon jackets, women's puffy vests, women's puffy jackets, women's puffy coats, and down comforters.

It did, however, almost land me in trouble in college.

Every day I had classes, I would go early. About a half hour before the library opened, and the day's classes were ready to begin. Because the buildings were unlocked by then, and the classrooms in them as well, I could go in to each one, and see if anyone left anything behind, taking full advantage of when that was the case.

If I was feeling especially daring, if I saw someone drop off their stuff, and then leave to go to the bathroom, and they were wearing a very puffy down coat, I'd consider it time for a challenge - go in, rub one off, and then leave without getting caught. The feeling of ultra thin nylon, and pillows of fluffy goose down rubbing against my nipples, while visualizing images of women vigorously rubbing their tits and labia with similar articles to the point of orgasm, is unreal - especially when combined with the very real sensations of orgasming that the aforementioned sensitive nipples quickly led to.

My favorite routine, however, was in the school library.

Within it was a big open hall. At one end, some big comfy chairs and tables. The rest of the place consisted of a central walkway, on each side tables and chairs surrounded by bookshelves laid out in U shapes.

I would go in, sit down in one of the arm chairs, and read a book, while waiting for a woman to walk in to sit down. 9 times out of then, the same person would put her books down, put her (vest, jacket, or coat) over their chair, and then immediately go to the bathroom.

First thing I would do is make sure she were actually gone. No point in being careless and getting caught because I assumed she was going to the bathroom when she could have just been getting water from a water fountain, or tossing something in the trash.

Then I would look around to make sure I was alone, and that nobody else had entered. Assuming the coast was clear, I would cautiously approach the chair. I would then, gingerly, removed the article from the chair. From there, I would often put on the article - vest, jacket, or coat, and - hands shaking more intensely than a Jell-o mold, zip it up so I could feel the hugging feeling of her down jacket or coat against my body (especially if the article was a size or two smaller than what I wear). I would then lift my shirt to start rubbing my nipples with the coat - first the inside lining, then the outside, all while listening for the loud bang of a door opening.

I would take the article off and hang it back on the chair, trying to get all the quirks of how it was originally placed on the chair as close as possible. If the person hadn't returned yet, I would have one more go at hte lining and outside of the puffy article.

Now, I said I almost got in trouble. How, might you ask?

As time went on, I got more brazen, and daring - figuring out that during the middle of the day this room had people in it, but not many, some tables being completely empty, and others having one person at them. So I would wait for someone seated at a table that was next to a completely empty one to go to the bathroom, and do a similar routine, just - no putting on the article, and making sure I ducked down so I was under the level of the table and adjacent bookshelves, and couldn't be seen.

One day my sights were set on a lady's red puffer vest. So I duck down, and do my thing. What I didn't factor was that the chair was the closest to the middle aisle in the hall. Soon as I get up, I see a gal with her laptop, at another table looking towards me with her eyes widened, and her mouth agape. I froze when it became apparent that there was a significant chance that she had seen what had transpired. Without saying a word, I just walked out of there.

That didn't stop my escapades, however. Now, if I was feeling incredibly daring, I would have taken it to a jerking off level - I would do that, but with clothing found in classrooms... but that's another story.

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