My Formative Sexual Years


I was vaguely aware of some kids walking past the car but I didn't care for I knew they'd tell others.

"We saw Sammi Cannock snogging with a bloke in a BM." A|ll good street cred.

I thought he might take me to his home but no it was into the countryside. An isolated car park, away from other cars and people.

"No one ever comes here," he told me making me wonder how he knew that, but making me excited by his obvious desire for me.

As I've learned most men do, Clive followed a similar routine with me as last time. Kissing me then caressing my breasts, getting them out and then attacking the epicentre of a woman's sexuality, her pussy. And this time he attacked that energetically, easily breaking down any defences I might have wanted to put in his way. Like for instance a, "should we?" or a pause of a nanosecond or two before opening my thighs or the really strong defence of, "someone might come." I thought of trying them all, but Clive was so in control they would have been as pointless to try as it would have been for me to refuse hi. I wanted to be fucked so badly I think i would have done anything.

I was defenceless, not just emotionally but physically as well, for as I'd laid back in the corner of the seat so my flimsy, pleated skirt had ridden well up my bare legs. So intent was he on kissing me and playing with my tits, that he had pulled out of from my bra but were still inside the white cotton, unbuttoned blouse and white and red striped blazer, that he seemed to be ignoring my long, tanned bare legs. Silly me, I forgot the process, the routine, the sequence that men go through; it wasn't the turn of down below yet was it?

After a respectable and rather wonderful few moments of breast and nipple manipulation that took me close to a climax, he at last turned his attention elsewhere. He raised his head from where it had been nestling on my chest chewing and licking my breasts and nipples and looked down. It was almost as though he was looking at my legs for the first time. But then last time it had been dark in the bedroom, so I forgave him immediately.

"Oh wow, Sam they're awesome," he murmured taking hold of the hem of the thin, blue, gingham check, skirt that was bisecting my thighs. "Mmmmmm so lovely," he whispered, possessively running his fingers up from beneath my knee to the hem of the skirt.

Then slowly, so very, very slowly, so slowly and patiently, he lifted the hem. He lifted it up and up revealing more and more of my legs, my thighs, my thong and the outline of my mound beneath it. He just stared at me for what seemed ages. He was breathing quite heavily and his hand that wasn't holding my skirt was round my shoulders gripping me tighter and tighter as he continued staring at me. He was making low, almost animal like moans as his fingers ran up and down each of my thighs. They went right along that particularly smooth area that had I been wearing stockings, not that I actually have any and I never have worn them, would have been the patch on the inside of my thighs between the stocking tops and my panties.

"So soft, so smooth, Sam."

I didn't know what to do or say. I contemplated perhaps opening my legs and saying something incredibly romantic and grown up like, "fuck me Clive," or "play with my pussy," but rejected the idea, after all I wasn't that experienced to have that amount of confidence. So I just lay there as he visually inspected my most womanly places.

And, amazingly to me it aroused me more and more.

The sordid, wanton scene got to me. My blouse was open, but my tie was still done up, pushed to one side. I still had my bra on, but each boob had been yanked from its protective covering and the fiercely pink, swollen tips were totally bare and still wet and shiny with his spittle. I was wearing the blazer, but that was bunched up behind me somewhere, and Clive was holding my skirt up around my waist. And of course he was staring intently at my tanned thighs and the bulge of my pubis inside the lacy thong.

I'd obviously experienced nothing like this before, after all it was only my second time . Ok, I was quite experienced, for a eighteen year old, on the back seats of cars, in fact I was beginning to think of myself as a back seat jockey. But they had all been fumblingly awkward, rather rushed, uncomfortably executed, usually in the dark and, due to my fear of going, further, totally unsatisfactory sessions.

"Kiss me Clive," I whispered reaching out and placing my hand on his face. He ignored that and instead slid his hand further up my thigh so that the side of that brushed, quite firmly, right against my pussy lips under the lace. It was like an electric shock; my entire body shuddered as a deep grunt slid from my mouth.

That seemed to shake him out of his voyeuristic, lethargy. He left his hand right there cupping my mound and pussy, he rubbed me and stroked me. And then everything speeded up. Quickly, he pushed my pretty, little, non-regulation thong to one side and slid two or three fingers inside me. And just as quickly I was writhing and squirming my pretty little cunt on his two or three fingered surrogate cock.

He made me cum, quickly and very hard, as hard as I'd yet cum in my short sexual career.

We lay there for a moment and then he started to undress. He undid his shirt and I sat up and ran my fingers over his chest that was so much hairier and more muscular than any of the boys I had messed around. I hadn't properly seen that in the gloom of the other evening so to see the thick covering of dark hair was quite a shock. But it felt good running my fingers through it and I could only imagine the rasping, slightly scratchy feelings I'd get when my bare breasts were ground against it. And I knew, well hoped, that would be very soon. As he undid his belt and zip I thought I should show how mature I was so I started to remove the blazer and my blouse. And that's when he told me to leave them on.

"I want to fuck you in your school uniform," he said not very romantically, but stupendously sexily to me. A bit odd I thought but then men are aren't they?

He didn't seem to be in the slightest worried that anyone might come into the place we were parked. He slid his trousers and boxers down beneath his knees. I ran my eyes up and down his body. It was glorious. Well-defined muscles, no flab or fat, lithe and lean and very, very fit; I thought he was awesome and his long, hard cock was just absolutely wicked.

And, of course, then he fucked me. Still fully dressed, with my tits gaping out of the blouse, my skirt bunched up around my waist, the thong pulled to one side, he shagged me hard and fast lying between my widely opened legs. Half way through he lifted my legs up and put my ankles over his shoulders. God did that seem grown up. He fucked me with my legs over his shoulders then once more, about an hour or so later, with me straddling him. That really was cool and so grown up, I thought

Chapter 4

That became our routine. Over the next few weeks he'd meet me after school two or three times a week and we'd go and have sex in the back of his car. Well not always in the back of it, for as the weather warmed up we also used the front seat, the outside of it, alongside it and the bonnet. Wow was I growing up sexually so fast?

The schedule, though, played havoc with my studies. I had to lie to mum that I was staying back at school doing some project or the other, but she didn't care or mind. As long as I didn't interfere with her golf, bridge and tennis arrangements and the affair I suspected she was having with a golf coach much younger than her, all was cool with her.

Was I in love? Had I fallen for my thirty-something year old uncle? Was it a passing fancy, an infatuation or was it just lust? How the hell could I know, I'd never felt like I did about him? I wanted him, wanted him touching me, wanted his hands on me and my body against his. I wanted that all the time I was with him. The moment I saw him in his car I think I started to cum, certainly my nipples burst into bud. But, oddly, when I wasn't with him I didn't dream about him or even think that much about him. Sure, I often masturbated in my bed and I guess he was part of my 'wankfest', but mainly it was, out of sight out of mind as far as Clive was concerned. See a bit of a hard, as well as, spoiled bitch aren't I?

But the knowledge of just how wrong incest is was always in my mind.

To say he liked my schoolgirl uniform is an understatement. He was obsessed with it. I asked him a couple of times if I could leave a pair of jeans and a top in his car, but he wouldn't let me on the grounds that Sue, my aunt would find them "She uses the car quite a bit," he explained adding. "In any case I prefer you in your uniform.

The first time he had picked me up from school I'd changed my underwear. The second time he just turned up so I was wearing the regulation large blue knickers and the full bra that was described in the school rules sent to parents as having to, "cover all of each breast, have no lace and be thick enough to ensure that nothing showed through them". Practical, boring and about as sexy as a pair of old ladies knickers. I was so nervous when he undid my blouse but it didn't seem to deter him, after all what was in the bra was more important to him than the look of it. And when he saw those knickers I thought at the least he'd laugh, but no, if anything they turned him on. Men!!!

But I just didn't feel right having sex in his car or frolicking around in the woods or by the river in such unglamorous stuff, so I always carried some spare glam gear in my knapsack in case he turned up unexpected.

"I just can't Clive I'm sorry," I explained. "They're such a turn off for me and so little girly, I can't feel comfortable wearing them."

"Ok then wear nothing."

So that became part of the routine. I'd go to the loo before the last period began and would remove the offending garments. I'd then sit through the lesson naked under my skirt and blouse making sure I didn't let the cotton blouse material become stretched across my boobs for my nipples were continuously hard as I though about what I'd be doing in few minutes time.

As we drove away from the school I'd cuddle up to him as best a girl can with that big box in the centre. It was difficult getting close, but I managed to get myself near enough so that as he drove with one hand on the wheel he'd slip the other between my thighs. I'd open my legs a little and keep my skirt down, well most of the time, and I'd revel in him fingering me, making me wet and have little climaxes. It was fun and exciting as we drove to one of two or three secluded "fuckspots" as we called them.

"Undo your blouse Sammi."

"No, people will see."

"So, who gives a fuck, no one gives a shit nowadays? What if they do, though I doubt anyone will? Come on give me and them a flash of those lovely bare titties, but don't take your tie off."

My hands were shaking as I undid the buttons, but I managed it. Why I agreed, I have no idea. But I had a vague thought that it was rather grown up and mature to ride around in a BMW with your lover's fingers up your pussy and your tits out, so I did it. And do you know it turned me on, it so excited and aroused me that he hardly had to ask on subsequent evenings.

Not only was I now getting plenty of sex; on average three times a week, but I was also learning so fast. What he got me to do was adventurous, well to me it was. I mean, to be laid face down on the warm, but dusty hood of a BMW with your tits bare and your skirt bunched round your waist as you're fucked by a man almost twenty years older than yourself, is quite a blast isn't it? It's also quite adventurous, I thought, to be naked in a field, straddling that man and fucking him as if you've done that all the time.

After we finished the affair and looking back, I realised that he wasn't that into oral sex. In the six weeks or so our affair lasted he never once went down on me and seemed to have no inclination for me to suck him. Actually both of those were quite fortuitous really for I'd never done either and had no idea whatsoever what to do. Nevertheless, from what I'd read and heard and even seen in films and on TV, it did seem a little odd, after all aren't all men just dying to lick a young girl's pussy?

I asked him several times about going to his house but he always made some excuse usually revolving around the unpredictability of his wife, gardener or cleaner. So I never made it there, well not for sex, but did of course for boring family dos. I also asked about us spending a whole night together, perhaps in a hotel. Although we didn't make that he didn't reject the idea just saying.

"Yeah, yeah, great idea, let's work at it."

It wasn't all back seat and in the woods stuff, though. No, twice he took me for a pizza and just as it got dark screwed me up against the wall of the car park. We also did it a few times in the changing rooms of the tennis club for he had a key and offered to lock up now and then.

We went to the cinema once, early evening, the OAPs performance when it was almost empty. I had, as he had ordered, taken my bra and panties off so he had great access to me: he made proper use of it by making me cum three or four times before pressing my hand against his cock that he had taken out from his trousers. A little sperm on the Odeon's carpet wouldn't do any harm would it?

I hope you enjoyed hearing about my early adventures. What happened next with my sexual awakening really is amazing and involved some really extreme stuff, especially for a sexual apprentice as I was. But then some people think apprentice is just another name for slave don't they??????

I'll post the next part in a couple of weeks time.

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