Skirts

'I've had a hard-on since we were down in the street.' I explained.

'Just from seeing me?' she asked in a surprised tone of voice as she slipped her fingers of one hand around the base of the throbbing shaft.

'Yes.'

'Well, well, you must tell me what brought than on.' she said as she used her other hand to lift her skirt as she raised herself up over me. 'But let's leave that until later, for now - ooh yeesss!' she gasped as she steadied my cock and pushed herself down on to it.

She gave a sharper and deeper grunt as she felt the rock-hard mass stretching her pussy wide open, but she was apparently determined to take the entire length of it deep inside herself in one continuous movement. And she did. And because the unexpectedness and intensity of the sensations that suddenly coursed through me as her slickly tight pussy drove down the full length of the shaft were so truly mind-blowing their impact drove the air out of my lungs in an explosive gasp.

'I don't think this is going to take very long!' she said throatily as she began pushing herself up and down

I normally like to watch myself having sex, finding the sight of my cock thrusting back and forth adds to the thrills, but of course that time, as it was all going on under her skirt I couldn't. But for once it didn't seem to matter, in fact in some odd way experiencing the physical sensations without seeing what was generating them just seemed to make the situation even more exciting.

And anyway I really doubt I was capable of registering anything stronger right then because as she was holding herself completely upright as she rode me, the effect was like having a suction pump attached to my cock. So each time she pushed herself up and down the intensity of the thrills that coursed through me were simply unbelievable.

So, as she'd anticipated, what she was doing to me proved to be just too effective, and far, far more quickly than I really wanted I suddenly felt the unmistakable signs of my rapidly approaching orgasm. Vanessa obviously also felt the sudden change in my body and sped up her action, but as she continued to hold herself perfectly upright the tightness and suction of her pussy remained just as strong.

For once there was simply no way I could control my reactions, my entire body arched, lifting her with me as I heaved upwards and my jerkily thrusting hips drove my cock even deeper. But she took it all, and as she continued to ram herself up and down, cried out. 'Come Frank! Come, come now!'

And a few all too short seconds later, as the ecstatic thrills ripped through my body, I heard the sound of my own deep guttural grunts of euphoric release keeping time with the powerful series of blasts from my semen spewing cock.

Chapter 3

Tentative Exploration

Some time later, after we'd both recovered from the force and the unexpectedness of our coupling we decided against following our original plan, and after freshening up we just made ourselves something to eat in her kitchen.

'Now, so I'll have some idea of what to do when I want a repeat performance of something like that you must tell me exactly what got you so excited.' she said once we had sat down to eat.

'I've always had a thing about skirts.' I replied.

'But you've seen me in skirts before, several times, you've never reacted like that.'

'It's the fabric, soft and swirly. That sort of skirt really gets to me - and of course you have really superb legs. I guess the fact that you were wearing something like that and I saw you when I wasn't expecting to, then watching you as you climbed up the stairs ahead of me.' I paused for a moment, then added. 'I suppose it was a combination of things really.'

'So it's the swirly skirts you really like?'

'Mmm, yes.'

'I'll remember that, I can see I'll have to do a bit more shopping.' she said with a grin.

'You didn't find my reactions and what I did a bit weird?'

'I was puzzled at first, of course, but everyone has their own special triggers and I don't think there's anything especially weird about you liking women in swirly skirts. And of course I loved what you did to me.' she added with a meaningful smile.

'Yes you did seem to get turned on pretty strongly.'

'That's an understatement, just the way you were stroking my legs got me excited, then having you down there, looking up at me while you were doing it, that literally turned my insides to jelly.' she replied.

'You liked me looking up at you?'

'Oh yes, it was very, very sexy!'

'Well maybe we can do it again, come up with a few variations.'

'I'd like that Frank.' she replied throatily.

And that's exactly what we did, Vanessa did quite a bit of shopping, finding not only several skirts that she thought would appeal to me but also buying herself a few pairs of stockings to go with them. Then from time to time during the next few weeks she would surprise and excite me by appearing in one of her new purchases, and I would take that as my cue to find different ways of getting us started.

Compared with some of the things we did later the first time was pretty tame, I just lay on the floor while she walked around and then back and forth over me, but the results were very effective. The next time she asked me to strip first - 'So I can see your reaction.' - she explained. We found that she got even more excited when she could actually watch my cock stiffening up so we used that method the next few times.

I suppose we'd done variations of that kind of thing half a dozen times before we talked about what was actually going on between us. It was Vanessa that started us talking, we were lying together on her bed after a particularly satisfying session, at that moment simply lightly, somewhat absentmindedly caressing each other as our bodies slowly recovered. 'I've never met a man who can get so strongly turned-on the way you do Frank.' she said softly. 'I mean I know men like looking at women, get excited by looking down between their breasts, or up their skirts. That seems to be common to just about every man, of whatever age. But what excites you is so very specific, and the way you react seems much, much stronger. Can you explain just why you like skirts so much?'

I had never previously met a woman who was really prepared to truly accept my proclivity, and had certainly never met one who was not only accepting of what I liked, but who actually enjoyed participating in it. So I'd never had to explain to anyone just why I reacted the way I did, and I needed time to think as to whether or not I actually wanted to answer. 'I'm not really sure, I might have to think about that for a bit.' I replied.

'It's just that I thought it might help us make it even better than it already is.' she replied suggestively. 'You stay there and have a think about it while I go and freshen up and make us some tea.' she said as she slid out of bed and headed for the bath-room.

Of course having been given the idea that she was prepared to think of ways of making what we did even better, although at that moment I couldn't imagine what that would be, I did as she'd asked. In fact the answer that I had given her, that I wasn't really sure what had initiated my odd predilection, was in fact just a cover, a white lie. I knew very well what had got me started, in fact the memory of the events of that day had, over the intervening years, been replayed many, many hundreds of times.

Chapter 4

Explanations

I was between eleven and twelve and as I had started the mysterious process of going through puberty a year or so before I was familiar with some of the stuff that was happening. Of coping with the embarrassment of my still diminutive dick getting hard at inappropriate times. Of occasionally waking up to find I'd made a sticky mess in my pyjamas. And although at that stage I still hadn't tried it myself, of course I'd heard many boys talking about the joys of wanking.

My sister, who was year or so older went to a girls' school that held an annual fete, and as I wasn't old enough to protest sufficiently cogently I was still being dragged along to it with my parents. That particular year, in recognition of the trend towards multi-culturalism one of the entertainments was a series of different countries' folk dances being put on by fifteen or twenty girls. Each one wore the costume of a different country and had a three or four minute solo. By the time I'd sat through half a dozen or those I was of course bored absolutely rigid and started to think how I could get myself out of there. Not very originally, but sufficiently effectively I whispered to my mother that I had to go to the toilet. She nodded, whispered I should be careful not to disturb anyone as I left the seats and with a relieved sigh of grateful relief I did so.

The toilet block was off to one side of the elevated stage where the girls were dancing, the entrance discretely shielded from both them and the audience by a line of shrubbery. As luck would have it, and down through the years I have thanked my stars countless times, just as I got to the near end of the hedge one dance came to an finish and another girl stepped up to do hers. I guess I first noticed her because she was a bit older than the others I'd seen, she was probably about fourteen or fifteen, but was already physically well-developed, and had much more prominent breasts than the previous girls. And, strange to say and purely coincidentally, just like Vanessa, she had long, very dark brown hair and big, really dark eyes.

Those were the things that first caught my eye, the twin bulge of her breasts, then her hair and eyes, and then the temptingly large swell of her breasts again. But then, while I was still standing looking up at her, the music started and she began to dance. The costume she was wearing had a big flared skirt, but underneath it were layers and layers of very fine petticoats, so as she began to step and turn the layers began to swirl around with her.

I stared up at her, that time at her legs, they were long, tanned and shapely and as I was looking up from beneath her I got the impression that if everything happened exactly right, at any moment I would actually be able to see all the way up them.

With what I could already see augmented by that thought, within just a matter of a few seconds I felt my dick start to stiffen, then getting really, really hard. It had never happened so quickly before, and from the strength of the pressure I could feel as it pushed against my shorts, it seemed to be getting even bigger and harder than it usually did.

Of course at that age kids are super-sensitive to everything about themselves and I guiltily looked hurriedly around to see if anyone had noticed what was happening to me, but was relieved that the few people who might have were too intent on watching what was going on up on the stage. Like them, but for completely different reasons, there was no way I was going to miss the rest of this girl's dance, but at the same time I was too embarrassed by my instantaneous and powerful reaction to stay just where I was. So I moved further along the hedge until I was in the small space between it and the wall of toilet block, and found that from there I was completely hidden from view, but, through a convenient gap in the bushes, I could still see the girl dancing.

Although the sight of her, of her long, long legs, moving quickly but gracefully within that swirling frothy cloud had me completely mesmerised, in some small portion of my brain I suddenly remembered what I'd heard the boys talking about, about wanking themselves off. The combination of what they'd said and the way the girl continued to affect what was happening to my dick was simply too much, and in spite of the risk of being caught I knew I really had no option, I had to give it a try.

So as I stood there, cramped in that narrow space, peering up through the bush at the girl's legs above me, I unzipped myself, then somehow managed to push my underpants down off my straining dick. Then, just as I curled my fingers around it, almost as though the girl knew I was there and sensed what I'd need, she started doing a series of long, fast spinning turns, gradually working her way across the back of the stage towards a spot that would be almost immediately above me. Of course from the angle the audience was watching all they would see were her flashing legs and the twirling layers of swirling petticoats. But as she drew closer I could see more, much more, see right up the length of her thighs, right up to the intermittent flash of brilliantly white panties.

From the moment I'd seen her skirt and petticoats rise as she span my hand had begun jerking back and forth, but of course nothing I'd heard about wanking had given me any idea of the real strength of the sensations it produced. They were indescribably wonderful, unlike anything I'd ever experienced or could even have imagined, and once started there was nothing on earth that could have stopped me continuing. So as she slowly moved closer and closer my hand went faster and faster, flashing up and down the rock-hard length, each movement sending waves of excruciatingly intense pleasure shooting through me.

The very last of those fast spinning turns was thankfully even longer than the others, and that was the one she did almost immediately above me. I stared upwards, no doubt open mouthed and goggle-eyed at the sight. Through the frothy swirling cloud I could see right up her legs, see her panties, see how tightly they clung to the twin cheeks of her bottom, and, every now and then, even the pronounced bulge in their crotch.

It was too much, I felt a rapidly growing ache in my balls, then a sudden quite dizzying rush, and before I even knew what was really happening I was gripped by some overwhelmingly ecstatic force, and as my wide staring eyes clamped tightly shut, my dick erupted.

So I lay there, hearing Vanessa moving around in the kitchen, closing down those still all too vivid memories of that long ago day, wondering if I could, or even wanted to, finally try to share with somebody else at least something of what I'd experienced back then.

Some minutes later she returned with the tea and as she got back into bed beside me she said. 'Well, have you been thinking about it?'

'Mmm, yes I have.' I replied, sipping the tea as I struggled with the decision as to whether or not I should share my memories with her.

'You see I can remember something from when I was girl, something that I'm sure is the key to why I enjoy having you look at me. I thought we could swap, that is if you know what did, or does it for you.'

Her suggestion tipped the balance in my thinking, merely telling her my experience was one thing, exchanging hers and mine was a completely different proposition. So, taking a large mouthful of tea I said it was a pretty long, involved story, but I would tell her.

'Oh good!' she exclaimed. 'Just give me a minute to get comfortable, and don't leave out any of the details, no matter how gory they are.' she added with a wickedly mischievous smile, then quickly finished her tea and snuggled down beside me.

So that she could better understand the full impact of what had happened and although it took a bit of time to do so, I felt it was worth giving her a rough background to the situation, what kind of boy I was, how green and totally inexperienced about anything to do with sex, that sort of thing. Then, taking her at her word about wanting to hear all the detail, I told her exactly what had happened.

At first she just lay there, her arm lightly pressing down across my stomach as she listened attentively, but once I got to the part where I was beside the stage and looking up at the girl, I felt her body tensing. And by the time I was telling her about how the girl's spinning had forced me to furiously wank myself, she'd pulled back her arm and I knew from its movements exactly where it was and what her fingers were doing.

'Now that really was a life changing experience Frank.' she said in a somewhat throaty voice when I'd finished. 'I can completely understand how it would have a long-term affect on your sex-life. Did anything happen later, I mean later in life, something that might have further reinforced that powerful experience?'

'No, not really, I don't think it was necessary. You see I'd got into the habit of replaying that time, I mean whenever I needed to relieve myself of tension, you know.'

'Masturbate.'

'Yes, exactly. I didn't use it every time, I wasn't completely obsessed by just that one thing, like any man I developed plenty of other fantasies, and of course as I've matured in reality I like to touch as well as look. But in spite of the other ideas that I've added it's still the one that I can always go back to, over and over again.'

'So have you shared it with anyone else, I mean before this?'

'No, nobody.'

'I'm flattered that I've been so privileged. Why me?'

'Well for one thing you asked. But there's much more to it than that. You're the first woman I've known who has been prepared to get actively involved, there have been a couple who understood that I liked them best when they wore skirts. But even they never tried to get any deeper, if you understand?'

'Yes, I think so. But of course they may not have had the same reactions that I do.'

'And that's another, in some ways even more important reason. I mean it would be one thing if you were prepared to humour me, do things just because you knew it pleased and excited me. But if that was all it was I know that after a while I'd just start to feel selfish. But because I know you also get something out of what we do I don't have to feel, well, guilty. Does that make sense?'

'Of course it does. But I don't just get 'something' out of what we do, believe me, in my own way I get just as excited as you do Frank.'

'So, are you going to tell me why? We were sharing, remember.'

'Of course I will, if that's what you'd like.'

'Please.' I replied as I slid one arm around her and bent to kiss her.

'That was nice, we'll have more of that later please.' she said when we came up for air. 'Now, although mine's much shorter than yours was, settle yourself down and I'll tell you a story.

Like you, it was something that happened to me as a girl that got me started. I've heard it said many times that childhood sexual experiences mark us for life, and if what happened to you and me are anything to go by, it's true.

I was a bit older than you were, somewhere between thirteen and fourteen, so I was well into puberty, and had been having my periods for over a year. I had cousins living close to where we did, there were three of them, a girl the same age as me and who went to the same school I did, then two boys, one younger, the other about seventeen or eighteen. Her parents were wealthier than mine were, had a bigger house and a swimming pool in their back yard, so in the summer I was often around there at week-ends.

Carrie, my cousin, as well as everything else we had in common, was on the same netball team that I was and what happened took place one Saturday morning when we had just come back after playing. Their house was two storeys and at the back, overlooking the pool, they'd had a timber deck built. I don't know if it was them or the builder that had tried to save a bit of money in building it but the floor planks had been set a bit too far apart, and we were forever seeing small things we'd dropped roll down between them.

Anyway, a week or so before Carrie's mother had broken her ankle, so it was in plaster and she hadn't come to the game as she usually did, but when we got back we found her sitting out on the deck with some cold drinks for us. So of course Carrie and I went straight out to join her and having gulped down the first drink we started telling her all the stuff that she'd missed.