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Cute as a button, and like many of her peers, she was
a daily reminder for most every male teacher in the school, that their
best years have sadly passed now into ancient history. It wasn’t that she
tried to be sexy in any way, just that she had no idea how not to be.
Standing barely five-four in bare feet, her slim body and still developing
breasts proclaimed her youth. Blonde hair cascaded way past her shoulders
and framed an alert little face that required but the least make-up to
highlight her pretty features.
You couldn’t say she was innocence personified however, despite what the
visuals would suggest. Nothing serious though – just that she had a
penchant (like so many other girls her age) to read naughty stories on the
internet. Probably nothing wrong with that when you think about it – it’s
a worldwide pastime – especially for curious little schoolgirls!
Of late she had been reading avidly. One particular author had attracted
her attention the last few months by virtue of the fact that many of his
stories involved teenage girls graphically mis-behaving – either by intent
or unplanned circumstance. Either way, her parents would have been shocked
senseless had they known just what road their daughter’s fingers had
travelled in recent times.
In a moment of self-assertive bravado, she had even emailed the author
telling him how she had enjoyed his tales of erotic fantasy if not
aggravated sexual dysfunctionality. Imagining herself in the fictional
girls’ dilemma, was usually sufficient to precipitate a really good
night’s sleep!
Upon receiving a reply from the author however, she was not too sure how
to react. That his words flattered her, as regards a photograph she had
sent of herself, was not in doubt but she harbored still a vague and
wholly understandable concern that she was corresponding with a man more
than three times her own age. It aroused her as much as it provoked her
insecurity.
It was a week later that she first “saw” the man.
Sitting at her desk while the teacher was droning on about the American
Civil War, her vision wandered to the nearby window and the sports oval
across the way from the science labs. A man was standing there almost
alongside the track. Too far for her to take-in specific detail, it seemed
to Amely that he was looking towards the main classroom block. He was
wearing what at that distance, appeared to be a full length coat and
holding some sort of brief-case in his right hand. She could not determine
any of the man’s facial features but adjudged his age to be at least in
his late forties to early fifties. For no reason that she could nominate,
there was a comforting familiarity about his aspect.
“Is there something more interesting outside than in here Amely?” the
teacher was calling out to her, bemused by the student’s obvious
inattention.
“No Mr. Hopkins….sorry,” she replied meekly.
When next she glanced outside, the figure was gone.
She was still recalling the image of the man standing there, even as the
school bus wound its way north on Dubrack street. Alighting at her stop
near Knightsbridge Drive she half expected to see him waiting for her and
was almost disappointed when she reached her home in Trailwood Place a few
minutes later.
“You seem very distracted Amely?” her mother said after she had ambled
inside and walked around the kitchen a couple of times, “Is everything Ok
at school?”
“No, I’m fine mom,” the girl replied. “Think I’ll go upstairs and make a
start on my homework.”
“Well something must be wrong then,” she smiled at her daughter. “When was
the last time you did that without being coerced?”
The girl shook her head and headed off to her room.
Not ten minutes into her ancient history assignment and she realized her
concentration lay elsewhere. Her bookmarked websites were after all but a
click away!
Locating that which she desired, she stared at the screen. A “new story”
had been posted. It concerned the plight of a young female hitchhiker who
having thumbed the totally wrong vehicle that evening, was now paying the
price for her lack of caution, just a short distance away from the
deserted highway. The girl’s humiliation at the hands of the two men was
graphically described and although played-out under circumstances clearly
abhorrent to any female in the real world, it had the effect on Amely of
escalating arousal. At the point the victim found herself restrained in
the dust with nothing left but her skimpy panties for modesty, Amely’s
hand was well up beneath her dress following a (now) very familiar
scenario.
“What would it feel like?” she wondered silently.
Shortly afterwards, following the enervating warmth that was now engulfing
her lower body, she stretched out on the bed, hugging a pillow for added
comfort. At least three boys from school she knew wanted to go out with
her, but she needed something emotionally that she recognized
instinctively a teenage boy could never give her. It was so hard being
sixteen!
The next few days passed uneventfully. It was the following Saturday
morning and being a warm summer day, Amely had opted to take a stroll in
Tremont Park, a green and altogether charming little oasis that at its
extreme south-west corner, shared a common boundary with her own house.
Towards the center of the park a small pond was home to a family of ducks
and ducklings. It was to this spot that the girl was making her way
slowly, having at that moment nothing of any consequence occupying her
mind.
Sitting thus on the low brick wall that skirted the pond, she gazed into
the distance. A few families with young children were taking advantage of
the warm weather enjoying a picnic lunch. Three teenage boys were playing
frisbee-golf the far side of the pond where the grass stretched almost
towards the northern boundary of the park. Older couples walked arm in arm
along the neat pathways - but it wasn’t these things suddenly held her
attention.
Far to her right near the small grove of trees, stood a shadowy figure -
one that she instantly recognized. Wearing still that full length coat and
carrying the same brief-case, he was yet too distant for her to make out
any physical details. Even as she squinted in his direction, her hand over
her eyes shielding the sun’s glare, a young mother pushing her stroller,
temporarily obscured her view. An instant later when she had passed, the
man was gone.
Amely leaped-up from the wall and walked briskly towards the trees where
she had seen him – surely she had seen him?
No trace of the man was to be found and she covered the entire area. She
could not understand how he could have walked in any direction without her
seeing him. All she knew with total conviction is that he had been looking
at her and that he meant her no harm. Walking home, she felt an
overwhelming sense of disappointment and worse, it was nothing she could
ever talk about to anyone – her sanity would forever be in doubt!
Keeping noticeably quiet that night, she excused herself from watching a
movie with the family, on the grounds of having a truck-load of study to
catch-up on, with end-of-term exams looming. More than once she glanced
out of her bedroom window, on the off-chance the man was again keeping
watch – maybe from within the confines of their large garden this time.
“Am I completely crazy after all?” she pondered.
She was no nearer an answer to that question when she fell asleep an hour
or so later.
*****
The following school day was memorable for its strangeness. Her desk was
not as she had left it, way nearer the window and with several text books
stacked up inside she could not recall ever reading. Mr. Hopkins even
looked different with a broader smile than she was accustomed to seeing
and somehow with more hair. She wondered if he had invested in a cheap
toupee.
She saw the man twice more – once in the distance near the playing field
again and later in the afternoon in the corridor right by the sports
lockers. As before, whenever she approached, he simply disappeared. She
decided that the only way to handle the situation was to do nothing
whatsoever and allow him to make the next move…if indeed there was ever to
be a next move!
The bus seemed to navigate Dubrack Street at breakneck speed that
afternoon and alighting at her stop she looked back at the row of seats
stretching towards the rear. Not a school-kid could be seen.
Letting herself in the back door, she walked straight to the kitchen. To
her great surprise both her mom and dad were seated at the table drinking
freshly brewed coffee.
“Go upstairs sweetheart,” her father smiled at her, “He’s waiting for
you.” Her mother looked up from the cup she was holding. “Hurry along
Amely, he’s come such a long way to see you.”
Placing her backpack on the kitchen table she made her way to the
staircase. The day had been weird enough already, what was one more little
eccentricity?
Pushing open her bedroom door, she could see the man standing near her
work desk. His briefcase was on the far chair. He smiled at her. “Hello
Amely, we have an appointment I believe?”
The girl stared uncomprehendingly, yet with a sense of expectancy.
The man was quite obviously middle aged although something about him
transcended any birth certificate. He was someone she could trust, maybe
even love. It all just made no sense.
As he discarded his outer coat she was able to study him for the first
time. Of average height and solid build, he wore clothes that none might
call fashionable though on him they looked right. Clean shaven with
thinning hair that seemed somehow so totally unimportant, he looked at her
through kindly hazel-colored eyes that put her completely at ease. He was
generations of knowledge and understanding and he had come for her as
deep-down she had always known he would.
Holding his arms out to her, she was never going to resist her fate.
Far taller than Amely, his arms encircled her waist as he drew her to him.
His kiss was both gentle and passionate. For some reason she felt like
crying but instead just looked up at him, her lips trembling noticeably,
yet eager for more prolonged contact. The man smiled as with his right
hand he caressed her neck and shoulders, the sensation of his hand running
through her hair both soothing and ultimately arousing. She felt the blush
rising in her cheeks but was powerless to halt proceedings even had she
wanted to.
Fully aware that her breasts must be prominently displayed in the top she
was wearing, she was curiously lacking any degree of embarrassment, but
rather wanting him to see and admire her feminine birthright.
Her eyes were now closed as the man kissed her deeper. But for his arms
around her, she may not have been able to remain overly steady on her
feet. The hand that had been caressing the nape of her neck was charting a
new course and having descended past her waist, was now lightly brushing
against the curve of her bottom. As she felt the man’s hand smoothing
across both rear cheeks she gave a small gasp, no male previously having
ever attempted to feel her up in quite so forward a manner. It felt
deliciously sexy.
“Would you like to sit on the bed Amely?” the man asked, breaking off from
the kiss. Right at that moment she would have done anything he had asked.
Seating herself demurely on the edge of the bed, her nervous system was on
red-alert. Whatever he was going to do with her or to her would be an
experience to treasure – of that she was certain. She was still looking up
at him standing in front of her when he lowered both hands, gently cupping
either breast as she sat there. She found it hard to sit still, staring
down her own cleavage as the hands began to squeeze their chosen prey
almost with a deliberate reverence.
“Do you mind me doing this Amely?” he asked.
She shook her head slowly, trying to come to grips with what he was doing
to her and why she could muster no resistance. The truth is she had to
admit, she wanted his touch, his intimacy, his whole being. She watched
submissively as he slipped his hands inside her bra, beginning to caress
her breasts and nipples openly. Again she gave a small sigh, bringing up
her own hands that she held atop his, in the manner almost of a protective
mother.
The man crouched down suddenly, indicating that she should lie backwards
on the bed. She did so, aware now that he was slipping her shoes off and
his hands beginning now to gently manipulate her feet. Nothing had ever
pleasured her like this and as he progressed to her ankles and calves she
felt an overwhelming desire to part her legs, quite dismissive of the fact
he would at that angle have been then privy to a wholly indecent view up
between her thighs. As it happened, the man already was able to see the
girl’s pink cotton panties, limited though the view was by virtue of her
tight fitting skirt.
Increasingly aroused, she gave a yelp of surprise as the man began to take
the ultimate liberty – pushing the hem of her short skirt higher. Part of
her wanted to sit up and stop him, another part was wishing he would
undress her totally. What did get a reaction was his hand intruding on her
vaginal airspace. At the point she felt his fingers stroking the front of
her panties she cried out, “Please - not there, I’m still a virgin…..”
Pulling her back up to a sitting position the man held her hands.
“The prettiest I ever saw too,” he whispered. He was then silent for a
moment. “If you would like me to go Amely, I will. It is entirely what you
want, not what I want.”
She hadn’t thought of her reaction in terms of the man actually leaving…it
was the last thing she wanted. Lying back down, she then shocked herself
by taking hold of the hem of her skirt and tugging and wriggling the
material up almost to her waist, completely exposing her panties in the
process.
She was due for a further dismantling of her emotions when the man leaned
forward and kissed her flush on her concealed ingress. The shock waves
made her wriggle but she found herself so wanting him to do it again. By
the third or fourth kiss, one might detect that she was actually arching
her hips upwards to facilitate contact with his lips.
She had totally given herself over to this new sensation, when the man
began to trace, with his finger, those moist vaginal lips themselves -
through her panties – for their entire length. She was finding it
impossible to lie still as he rubbed her intimately, the pressure on her
clitoris now fully overwhelming.
“Allow me to make a few adjustments here,” the man murmured. The cessation
of friction between her legs momentarily, caused the girl to sigh in
disappointment but this was replaced by sheer surprise as he maneuvered
her on to her tummy whereupon she could feel him unzipping her crumpled
skirt which despite some token protest, found itself shortly a new home
the far side of the bed. When at his instigation, her top also yielded up
its protective mantle, leaving the girl clad simply in her bra and
panties, the vulnerability of her situation became crystal-clear.
“You are so beautiful Amely,” she thought she heard him say. Right then,
all she was concentrating on was the hand sliding over her curvy little
bottom and its partner-in-crime inching its way beneath her arms to fondle
her breasts simultaneously. Brushing the hair away from her face, she
watched his progress, letting out an unforced “ohhh” as the hand slipped
inside either bra cup to manipulate and tease her rapidly hardening
nipples. Never had she imagined anything could have aroused her to this
extent.
Breathing heavily she simply lay there, allowing the man to caress at
will, the most intimate areas of her young body. She looked down
fascinated as he worked her breasts free of their padded restraints,
leaving them fully exposed now on the coverlet itself. She felt him
pulling her panties down slowly but far from resisting, began wriggling
her bottom provocatively in the knowledge of how this must appear at
close-range to her abuser-come-lately. His hand now sliding across her
naked butt was arousing her unbearably and she had no hesitation when it
came to spreading her legs teasingly, replete in the knowledge that he
could now see clearly that which he had up to this moment, only felt.
Her whole body jerked involuntarily as the man’s fingers intruded gently
between the moist folds. Trespassing where none had ever had the
opportunity to enter, moisture seeped out from the girl’s now
fully-displayed slit, lubricating the invaders. As his index finger
slipped inside her she could not prevent an audible cry from escaping her
lips. This was nothing close to what she had ever imagined, being so much
more intense. At the point the man located her clitoral nub she found
herself gripping the bed covers, her hips unable to remain passive
bystanders. Teasing then that girlish attribute, she could see plainly the
effect it was having on her nipples alone – both having become so erect it
made her gasp. As the girl’s respiratory rate increased two-fold, the man
began to increase the pressure, his finger now a veritable buzz-saw.
“Come for me Amely, don’t be embarrassed,” he whispered.
Unaware of the extent to which her legs had parted the last few minutes,
all she knew was that she would probably lose consciousness if this
feeling kept up.
She was spared from any such eventuality not a minute later however, when
her entire lower body was engulfed by an orgasmic release of hitherto
un-experienced grandeur. As waves of pleasured finality radiated outwards
she could feel even her nipples tingling from the fallout. Fully
subconsciously, she reached down between her legs and cupped her somewhat
wet pussy protectively now that the inbound fingers had retreated to
neutral territory.
She was aware of the man alongside her, idly caressing her bare bottom as
she gradually recovered her senses. She wasn’t expecting quite what
followed.
Two strong hands gripped her around the waist and were hauling her up to a
kneeling position.
“What are you doing?” she asked tremulously, suddenly made re-aware of her
total nudity and absolute vulnerability.
“Something you have thought about for a long time Amely,” he replied.
“Something all school-girls want answered from their early teen years. I
am going to show you exactly what it feels like to have a man make love to
you.”
What should by rights have instigated blind panic in the girl caused
merely a hot flush of expectancy.
“You mean you’re going to fuck me?” she whispered.
“No sweetheart,” he replied “I want to make love to you. Same physical
meaning but they are poles apart emotionally. One is quickly over, the
other will stay with you all your life.
“But….I’m still…”
“A virgin? Yes, I know that Amely,” he interjected “It’s my point exactly!
In a perfect world, one does not “fuck” virgins, one loves them for the
beautiful creations that they are. Making love to a girl in all its
purity, actually preserves that wonderment and respect. The act itself,
far from taking something away – bequeaths both admiration and recognition
of their birthright. Sixteen is a beautiful age – one when you suddenly
find yourself a mere footstep away from the bridge linking you to your own
sexual destiny. Nevertheless Amely this has to be your decision when all
is said and done. Any doubts and I want you to get dressed right now
sweetheart.”
She knew of course - her mind was already made up. It had been when she
closed her bedroom door behind her.
Hardly in need of further arousal, she nevertheless gasped in surprise
when the man once again began fingering her vaginal orifice. She would
have been surprised though, could she have seen the extent to which she
thrust her shapely rear cheeks skywards to facilitate his access. She was
also guilty of several pleasured sighs when his other hand reached around
beneath her and began groping gently her taut young breasts as they jutted
out proudly from her slim chest.
Nothing however quite prepared her for the first intrusion of the man’s
erection into that well-guarded vaginal domain. Gasps turned to audible
cries of discomfort as he took his time to penetrate that un-travelled
pathway. Holding her tightly around the hips and aligning himself such
that she might feel the least pain, the man entered her with unforced
deliberation.
Just the one cry and he was fully inside.
Amely’s body was in turmoil. The pain of her departing hymen was being
rapidly offset by escalating sensations of incalculable pleasure as the
man penetrated her. She felt “filled” to the brim, yet in need of even
further perpetrated indecencies. Quite incredibly she was wanting him to
suckle her breasts inexplicably and in fact began to knead them herself
even as he continued to slide deep inside her. Functioning quite on
automated reflex she found herself pushing backwards with her bottom,
trying to synchronize with his thrusting movements.
Any observer might have noted the tiny beads of sweat forming on her hips
and forehead. Her long blonde hair swirled around her face as the man’s
rhythm brought her to a new plateau of enjoyment. Completely absorbed with
what he was doing, she cried out for him shamelessly to come inside her.
Fully submissive now, she never wanted this pleasure to end.
At the point it did however - at the precise moment he began spraying her
vaginal walls internally - she collapsed face-forward on to the covers,
fully expended. Turning over on to her back she retrieved the nearest
pillow for some much needed security, holding it strategically lengthways
atop her.
“Who are you?” she asked earnestly.
“You know who I am,” came the reply, “You always knew!”
Even as he spoke, the outlines of the man wavered around the edges and in
less than three seconds she was alone.
“Please don’t go,” she begged. Holding her arms out forlornly to nothing
now but a recent memory, she began to cry. Her whole body in fact was
shaking!
*****
“Amely,” her mother cried anxiously, still pulling her daughter’s arm as
she slowly opened her eyes. “What’s the matter darling? You’ve been crying
in your sleep and you have to get ready for school in just over twenty
minutes!” |
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