How did Charlotte Lose Her Virginity? Pt. 04

Graham Randall stood at his window. He had some marking to do and was not taking a class until ten o'clock that morning. Not yet fully dressed, though anyone looking up at his window would have seen him in shirt and tie, and tweed jacket but, actually, he had on nothing below that. His penis stood rigid in front of him as he watched the girls outside. He could see Charlotte walking with her dark-haired friend, Helen. They, like the other girls, dressed in their regulation uniforms. Such crisp, pure white -- virginal white -- blouses with the school tie done up tightly at their necks, their white socks, blue and grey tartan skirts and navy blue jackets. Charlotte was laughing at something her friend had said, her mouth open as it had been the night before when she had sucked him to a lovely ejaculation.

His penis was up, its eye trying to get a look over the window sill -- or that was how it felt -- he smiled down at the girls thinking how many others he would like to have with their pretty, feminine lips, around his penis. Perhaps especially that girl, Helen. He had told Charlotte not to breath a word of her visits to him but... but, girls were not very good at keeping secrets. The idea of Helen, and it would most likely be Helen, that Charlotte confided in, wanting to share - Graham reached and began to stroke -- his cock; the idea was more than a little pleasing. He imagined them both naked in his flat, his hands touching their bodies, perhaps them both kneeling and alternately sucking him. Why not both in bed with him, one either side, the two rolling on the condom ready to take it in turns riding cowgirl?

Too good thoughts, and too much stroking! There was nothing he could do about it. He let go of his cock, pulled the sides of his shirt quickly out of the way so as not to get them 'wet', and stared out at the milling girls. Three at that moment looked up and saw him. Three pretty girls who would have suited his ideas of cock sucking schoolgirls very well indeed. He did not wave or anything -- that would not have been very teacher like and he was, in any case, holding his shirt out of the way. What they saw was Mr. Randall looking stern: what they did not see was his rigid penis pointing out towards them and freely spurting gobs of semen in their general direction onto the windowsill and even glass. They could have no idea, most probably had never seen an erect penis, that Mr. Randall was imagining his semen pulsing onto their three upturned faces, dripping onto their white uniform shirts and soaking in. He kept his face totally impassive as the potentially face contorting feelings ran through him as the semen rushed out. Had they looked carefully, and it would have to have been very carefully, they might have just seen a splash against the lower pane of glass.

A pout from Charlotte in the corridor at the school. She was carrying her books held tightly to her chest as she passed Mr. Randall.

"You weren't there the whole weekend." It was accusatory.

"I went to visit my parents, Charlotte. I was not here."

"I had been hoping..."

"You can't come to my flat every night Charlotte. You'll get caught."

"But when... next?"

"Tomorrow Charlotte you shall sleep with me, how about that, and, if you like, you can feel my penis inside you."

"You mean..."

"Yes, I'll take your virginity -- if you like."

So amusing for Mr. Randall to see Charlotte bounce off with such a spring in her step. He watched the sway of her skirt for a few moments before turning his head and heading for the next class. A young lass wanting to be fucked -- for the first time.

And so, the evening afterwards, Charlotte appeared late at night looking ever so excited, there at his flat door in her running clothes. He pulled her to him and gave her a hug and then lowered his mouth onto hers as he closed the door. Her response quick and intimate, a tongue pushing into his mouth, a hand slipping through the folds of his dressing gown seeking his male organ.

Charlotte had been thinking about the meeting all evening, even as she struggled to concentrate on her 'Prep.' And concentrate she needed to as the essay needed to be written for the next day. She had to finish it before bedtime. And then she would have to lie there awake until she was sure the other girls were either asleep or too near to pay attention to one girl slipping away. She even slipped her pyjamas off and got into her running things under the bed clothes. A maddingly slow process so as not to arouse suspicion either side of her. Finally, she had got away and there, just as she hoped was Mr. Randall at his door in dressing gown and hopefully little else. So good to be kissed and, just as she had imagined, again and again that evening, her hand had gone into his dressing gown to answer a question which had seemed so much more interesting than the one posed by the title of her history essay -- would Mr. Randall already be erect or not?

Even with several experiences she could not get over the size and firmness of his penis. And, just as she had planned, hard or soft, Charlotte got down on her knees to both make a careful visual inspection and to take it into her mouth for a suck. What she had not planned upon was seeing herself in the mirror. Right by the flat's door was a full-length mirror and Charlotte caught sight of herself kneeling in front of her teacher, his cock both revealed in his open dressing gown and reflected again in the mirror. Two penises almost! But better still in the mirror her own face reflected right by the mirror, her pigtails hanging down over the white of her running shirt, reflected close to the penis. She could feel a surge of wetness within her running shorts as she watched her tongue sneak out of her mouth and touch the penis and then her lips move over its very end. It was a bit like watching another girl suck a penis. How it might be if her friend, Helen, was there with her: though it was hardly her friend's dark hair or face, and, certainly, Helen made a much better effort of pushing her running shirt forward. Charlotte was conscious she hardly needed her brassiere when running whereas her friend most definitely did!

Charlotte stared and stared into the mirror, watching what she was doing to the erect penis, it was like watching another girl yet feeling it all at the same time. How much could she actually get into her mouth. It was rather remarkable to see the thing slowly disappearing into her mouth -- quite a lot of it actually! How stretched her lips looked around the penis.

And in the mirror the sight of big male hands undoing her running shirt, pulling her brassiere aside and both feeling as well as seeing her breasts being manipulated as she sucked.

"Well, young Charlotte, would you like a hot drink first or go straight to bed?"

Mr. Randall had asked about a hot drink another evening, but this time she got it. He didn't really mean cocoa!

"Bed please, your bed!"

The young girl was taking her running things off even before the teacher suggested it. Her enthusiasm for 'bed' was exciting. Graham Randall let his dressing gown fall leaving him naked with his pupil. Again, they embraced, this time skin to skin, his penis hard against her stomach, his arms around her and his mouth on hers.

He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. A little bit of designed 'romance' on his part. In the mirror she caught a sight of her flushed face, her fair curls and pouting sex showing, with her bottom turned to the mirror and underneath Mr. Randall's penis rearing up. Her delight at the bedroom was evident and just as Mr. Randall had hoped. He had tidied and readied it with a bunch of roses and candles.

"It's lovely," she said, "special!" A man buying her flowers for the first time. Not that she could exactly take them back to her dorm. It was all so cosy, so pretty and so romantic and she loved the trouble he had taken for her special day. The day or rather night she became virgin no more.

Gently he set her down upon the bed. She smiled up at him, opened her legs and closed them in a very definitely naughty way and scooted over to the other side to give him room to get in. Room for her teacher and his great big penis to get in with her. So different from her little bed back in the dorm. This was a double bed not a narrow regulation single bed for young girls. A bed for grown-ups to do grown up things! And they did.

A lot of cuddling, a lot of kissing and a lot of stroking. Graham Randall did not hurry things at all. He did not roll the condom on, or ask Charlotte to roll it, for quite a time. He left her to look at the roses and candles and just lie there with a smile of contentment, or maybe more, as he burrowed down the bed and did pleasurable things with his lips and tongue. He invited her to 'suck him again,' and she was more than happy to take her turn at wriggling down under the bedclothes, right down as she had done when small and pretending to be hiding, but never before down in her bed had she found something like that to suck.

Worked up, damp with sweat, Charlotte realised Mr. Randall was waiting for her to choose the time. "I'm ready, sir," she said.

"Would you like to ready me?"

He pulled back the covers and reached for the packet and handed it to her. Charlotte took it and looked at his so male organ, firm and fleshy. She would much rather have taken it into herself as it was. Naked flesh to naked flesh and then have his semen really inside her. She removed a foil wrapped condom from the packet and ripped it open. In her hand the ring of rubber just like the one they had practised with before. She knew what to do. First nip the teat and then roll.

Fully sheathed, the penis was now ready for her. So hard, so capable of penetrating her softness. The bed clothes were pulled back.

More cuddling, more stroking of her body, intimate stroking by Mr. Randall but then he rolled himself on top of her and for the first time she felt the weight of a man atop her, pressing her down into the bed and, what was more, not the feel of his fingers but of his penis, much bigger, stroking her along the wet crack of her open sex. That was indeed a penis touching her clit -- if you ignored the latex separating the organs. Sliding and rubbing. Her sex was on fire with arousal. Charlotte felt her wetness pouring out. She spread her thighs a little wider willing the man to properly mate with her. This was it!

Not that she had not been enjoying the stroking, the feeling of his hardness at her sex but she wanted the real thing. She reached up with her mouth for his and as Mr. Randall's tongue slowly slipped into her mouth so did his penis into her. She felt it at her entrance, so big. The domed head there at the opening into her body. And then the movement in. No pressure building, no sudden rush forward as resistance gave way or something tore allowing ingress; it was not like that. Just a gentle opening and filling sensation as, like his tongue into her mouth, the penis slid forwards. One moment Charlotte was a young innocent girl, a virgin: the next, or so it appeared to her in her mind, a young woman.

With her tongue she responded to his, with her vagina she squeezed feeling the happy invasion. And so they began to copulate. A steady regular movement of hips and buttocks. Extremely pleasurable for all concerned. She forgot about the condom. Did not notice it at all.

Against her Charlotte felt the man's balls revealing to her just how much of Mr. Randall's penis could go inside her -- all of it -- so topsy-turvy really, that his balls could touch her flesh to flesh but not his penis. His balls, after all, contained the risk -- the semen -- not the penis. Yet in their delightfully soft and floppy way they could be as intimate with her as anything: yet the hard penis had to be sheathed. Not that she could at all feel the sheath -- not at all.

Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes pausing, Mr. Randall kept up the sliding movement as Charlotte's orgasm built until she was gasping, shivering and trying to ram more of the penis into herself as it swept through her -- the young schoolgirl coming for the first time on a cock.

And for Mr. Randall as soon as he felt that, he had the pleasure of just letting himself go, of grasping the girl to him and thrusting hard at the girl; no longer trying to hold back. Of course, he had thoughts of withdrawing, ripping the condom away and plunging back totally naked and releasing like that, even imagining himself like that when he was coming, his hot spurts undoubtedly deep inside the girl's body but not actually splashing against her cervix. The condom was still very much there. He had not deceived the girl and removed it; had not callously and uncaringly pulled it off for his own selfish pleasure and risked the young girl coming with child.

They lay there entwined for a little while but not quite long enough for the teacher to completely subside. Carefully he placed his hand around the base of his shrinking penis and pulled himself from the girl. He was still being careful! Condom removed and dropped on the bedside cabinet and the light switch reached for, the room was plunged into complete darkness.

The girl moved, once more going down below the bedclothes; once more she took the penis into her mouth; her actions gentle and tender; Mr. Randall gazed out into the darkness of his room feeling just so relaxed as gently his soft penis was moved around inside Charlotte's mouth with her tongue. Not all of his semen was in the used condom, some at least would be in the girl's body, albeit stomach not womb! Relaxed and not a little tired he lay there feeling very content. It had, actually, been a pretty busy day and, until just before Charlotte had appeared, he had been marking essays all evening.

Charlotte wormed her way back up the bed and settled into Mr. Randall's arms. He was asleep before her and she lay there for a while thinking and going back over what had just happened before she kissed the sleeping man and dropped into slumber -- her first time sleeping with a man.

Graham Randall had set the alarm. It just would not do to oversleep given Charlotte needed to get up and have her run before returning to the dorm, ideally, before other girls woke. A good plan but he awoke even before the alarm and switched it off knowing he was not going to slip back into sleep, not with what he had beside him, all warm, female and available.

Under the bedclothes Graham Randall rolled another condom up his erection. It was a shame to waste the opportunity of a schoolgirl in his bed in the early morning. A shame, though, that he could not spurt freely into her. How nice to imagine the young girl returning to her dormitory with his semen oozing out of her, spreading between her soft lips, perhaps even running down a thigh, escaping out of the slightly loose running shorts' leg and all there to see; if anyone should look.

Charlotte woke with a start, momentarily at a loss as to where she was and why there was a hand on her bottom and then it all came flooding back and, with it, sudden arousal. Naked and with a man, her male teacher, in his bed. She was going to do that thing again -- and she was very happy about that. She reached and found him already hard, his penis sheathed in latex. She knew what they were going to do.

"Where have you been?" It was Helen, in her nightie.

"I... was up early and went for a run." Her cover story matched by the running clothes she was wearing, even if the lateness of her departure from Mr. Randall's flat had meant she had dispensed with the actual run.

"No, you weren't. You weren't in bed half an hour ago and I felt, it was cold. I've been looking for you. Thought you were perhaps ill or something. Now, Charlotte, where have you been, really?"

It was something of a surprise for Graham Randall, to find not one girl but two slipping into his flat late the next evening. Charlotte had come through the open door, just as other nights but she had a different look, a concerned look. He was momentarily puzzled until a second uniformed girl followed her through. He was not easily fazed.

"And what are you doing here, Helen?"

He stood there, looking somewhat his usual self with his authoritative, schoolmasterly stance and expression. A look of command that quietened unruly schoolgirls and schoolboys. His tone of voice commanding an answer. The effect was perhaps spoilt, certainly rather changed, by him not being dressed in tweed and with a tie, indeed not dressed at all, but stark bollock naked and with his penis standing up in the air, quivering in expectation, as it had been since he had heard Charlotte's footsteps. It was not yet clad in a condom.

The picture on Helen's face was one of shock and amazement. Like Charlotte at first, she had not conceived a man could be so big. Her mouth was hanging open, her lips forming an almost perfect circle. Just so the right shape to accept the helmet at the end of an erect penis.

Graham Randall had rather liked the idea, it had been on his mind all day, of surprising Charlotte like that. In a way it was he who had got the surprise. Nonetheless there was considerable pleasure in seeing Helen's face. He was sure she had not come to his flat to remonstrate; no, much more likely to see certain things demonstrated.

"Helen insisted, she knows -- everything."

"Really, Miss Evans, everything indeed: and why have you come here?"

Her eyes had remained wide and staring.

"It won't bite, anymore than I am sure you will." If Charlotte had told Helen everything, she would not miss the allusion to fellatio. It would unnerve her the more. And he was right, he watched as the girl's face reddened as her eyes stared at his erection. Would it unnerve her into running away? The lack of any movement, any indication of flight suggested otherwise. He knew she would be sucking. She would not have come if she were not prepared to engage in sexual activity. He had most certainly enjoyed Charlotte but that did not mean he would not also enjoy a second girl. Two at once, one for each hand: he had not done that before. He closed the door behind her. Cutting off her escape route.

"Well, Miss Evans, why are you here?

Her voice small, suddenly without the confidence she displayed in class, "I was... I wanted to see... I was... interested."

"See. I told you. So big, isn't it?" Charlotte's hand reached out and held, her small fingers around the swollen shaft, proprietorial like. "See, it moves."

She was moving his foreskin, bringing it up over the head and down again. Charlotte teaching her friend about masturbating the male of the species. She had, no doubt, described it in detail before -- this was the practical demonstration. Helen had hardly moved, her eyes still round as she glanced from penis up to her teacher's face and down again.

Graham Randall did not move, he was appraising the new girl, appraising her more than he had done before. He had always thought of her as 'busty' and there was a reason for that. Her dark hair was luxuriant and long, and not tied in a pony tail as usual, but free: her breasts were indeed ample and very much demonstrating her enhanced breathing as they rose and fell; he could see the outline of her brassiere through her shirt; she was shorter than Charlotte with a very feminine shape, good child bearing hips, indeed; he wondered about her sex, would her hair there be as profuse as upon her head?

"Do you really...?" It was directed by Helen to Charlotte.

"Put it in my mouth? Yes, do you want to see? Come closer."

It was all of a moment as if he was not there, but his penis was. Charlotte kneeling down in front of him and Helen following suit, perhaps it was easier for her not having to look bashfully, nervously up at her teacher's eyes, instead following her friend... though she would be looking straight at another, single, eye.