Fucked In School Uniform Ch. 02


"Hi babe, you look good."

"You don't look so bad yourself," I retorted, now having the confidence to leer at his body wrapped in the towel.

It was just getting dark so it must have been around ten. He'd been with me for almost three hours and we'd had sex twice, although I'd already cum more times in an evening than I'd ever done before. I was wondering when he would be ready again, or indeed, whether he would, for he had been making no advances, even when he photographed me and we looked at the pictures.

At last we had the scrambled eggs and smoked salmon. It was more a supper than a dinner, but it was still wonderfully romantic and erotic sitting at the glass topped kitchen table across from my lover. We were both just dressed in the towels and inevitably, or at times somewhat purposefully on my part, the towel tended to slip a bit. I saw his gaze on my breasts when I showed a little too much and noted with pleasure his look through the glass at my crossed legs with the hem of the towel right up round my crotch. I guessed that maybe from his angle he'd be able to see a flash or two of my tawny, neatly trimmed pubic hairs.

We didn't talk that much and I was starting to wonder whether we'd run out of topics to talk about. After all we only really had only tennis and sex in common, didn't we? And you can only say so much about either of them.

We finished the meal and had another glass of wine; the champagne was left uncorked in the fridge. I was now a little squiffy, for I'd had several glasses of wine on an empty stomach; I wasn't then that used to booze and I got tipsy quite quickly. That could, I suppose, have some downsides, but it had a number of massive upside; it made me lose my inhibitions, gave me enormous confidence and it made me feel enormously horny.

My chin in my hands and my elbows on the table I was very aware that the towel had slipped; I could feel that; I could feel the air on parts of my breasts it hadn't been on earlier; I knew that most of the swell on the top of the two mounds was bare and I was pretty certain that on both sides some pink of my nipples was showing. I also knew that where my legs were crossed the towel had fallen open and had ridden right up my legs and yes, indeed, I was flashing those neatly trimmed, tawny coloured pubes. I felt great.

I stared at him and he stared back. I smiled and he smiled. I stood up and he stayed seated. I walked round the table slowly and he watched me. I stood before him, about three feet away, and he just continued staring. He was slightly slouched in the chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked absofuckinglutely drop dead gorgeous I thought, as I ogled his hairy, full chest, his flat six pack stomach and his long, lean, muscular legs.

I slowly lifted my hands up to where the towel circled my body. I took the end that was folded inside the other in my fingers. And as I slowly pulled that away from the other, I looked right into his eyes and said, huskily.

"Robert, I'm going to fuck you right now."

Wow did that make me feel so grown up and mature. That's what proper lovers say and act I thought feeling ready to do just about anything.

Naked, I leaned forward and took hold of the towel around his waist. I slowly unravelled it and looked down at his manhood which, though certainly not erect, was not totally soft either. I felt brave and confident as I knelt between his legs holding his dick in my hand.

I was in totally unchartered territory. I was doing something I'd never done before and acting in a way that, surprisingly, felt absolutely natural, but with which I had no experience. It seemed the right thing to do, the grown up, mature and sophisticated lover's act, a natural extension to what we'd done so far and a logical pushing out the boundaries of the sex-play between us. Yes, I was planning to suck my lover's cock. To lick it and fellate it as I'd read about so often in books. To let Rob shoot all over my face and even, if he wanted to cum in my mouth, as I'd seen in a porn video one of the girls showed at a party. The plan didn't go as far as to whether I'd swallow or not, I thought I'd play that by ear when the cum was actually in my mouth.

Holding, what I was pleased to see and feel was his hardening penis I brought it slowly towards my head. I bent further forward. I opened my mouth, I put my tongue out and I took a very deep breath. Although so aroused and excited I was also apprehensive and a little frightened. What would it feel like when it was in my mouth? What would the taste be like? Would I gag or choke? How much of it would I be able to get in? Would I be able to do it properly, as he was used to, as his older lovers did it to him?

Lifting the continuously hardening cock I was about to slide it into my mouth when suddenly he got up pushing me away.

"No, don't, don't do that," he said sharply moving away from me and pulling his towel around him.

"Why Rob, why? What's the matter?"

"I don't like that. I don't like doing it or having it done to me."

I was puzzled and amazed. True I'd wondered several times why he hadn't tried to give me oral or asked me to suck him. My reading had told me without any doubt whatsoever that men wanted that. Some wanted a girl to suck them more than they wanted to fuck her, I'd read and most wanted to taste the sweet juices of his lover, especially when she was young and as presumably fresh as my eighteen years would make me. But he'd been giving me so much "straight" sex and was teaching me so much about having my breasts loved, both by him and by me, being fingered to fulfilment and having an almost full orgasm for sometimes the best part of an hour, that when I was with him the fact that we had no oral sex slipped my mind. After all that was continually exploding with climatic sensations which left little room for rational thought as well.

When alone, though I did think about it. I thought about that and his obsession, almost, with my school uniform. I thought about why he was still single at thirty four and why he hung out with a group of male tennis coaches all of whom were in their early and mid twenties and I thought about the woman, the "old flame," he brought to the club sometimes. I also pondered on why someone of his age and apparent sexual maturity bothered with an inexperienced kid like me. I thought about all those things but I had no answers. To be truthful I didn't actually try too hard to find them for I was content with having him do what he did to me and sod the other circumstances.

But this shook me. I'd never for one moment thought a man would turn that down, after all how often is it that a naked eighteen year old chick asks to suck your cock? But he had. No doubt about that and I had no idea why other than what he'd just muttered. Was it something reasonably common or was it very rare? I didn't know and it wasn't something that the mags. or papers I read told us much about. Was it me, I wondered? Perhaps I put him off or did he truly have some odd aversion to what many people thought was the best aspect of sexual foreplay.

As I sat on the floor, totally crestfallen, not knowing whether to cover myself up or stay naked I managed to mutter.

"I'm sorry Rob, I'm very sorry."

He looked for a moment as if he was going to cry, but then he came over to me and took hold of my hands.

"No you don't need to be sorry Mandy; it's just a foible of mine."

"How's that?" I asked my voice muffled as it was pressed against his hairy chest.

"I just feel that I sort of violate you if we do that," he told me.

I had no comprehension of what he meant but said nothing hoping he'd continue.

"You see Mandy," he went on, his fingers running slowly up and down my bare back and over the cheeks of my equally bare bum as I felt stirrings inside his towel, "I look at you differently to how most men probably do."

"Really?" I replied loving the feelings from his hands and his evidently growing dick. "How do you look at me then?"

"As a young girl, not a woman. I love your innocence and immaturity," he said pulling me to my feet and crushing my naked form to him.

"Oh fuck," I thought to myself. "And there's been me trying to pretend I'm all grown up and experienced."

"I see," I told him completely untruthfully, for I didn't at all see.

"It's the, oh I don't know, maybe purity perhaps, that turns me on Mandy. The freshness of your youth, the fact that you aren't overused. And because of that I don't want you to do things like that, or have you do them to me, it sort of sullies or demeans you."

As he was saying that his fingernails were digging into my bum hurting me and, I was sure, making marks on my skin. His erection was also rising quickly and he was pressing that deep into the softness of my tummy.

"Do you understand?" he was asking as he started shoving his now fully extended and wonderfully hard erection up and down my tummy and over and over my pubic mound.

Taking the line of least resistance just before his mouth closed over mine and my arms went round his neck, I whimpered.

"Yes Robert, yes of course I do" I lied for I didn't really have any comprehension of all the purity and innocence bollocks. How did that sit with his big thing for my school uniform and him fucking me on the bonnet of his car or up against a tree?

I never got to fuck him as I intended, though, for with hardly any further ado he fucked me.

He turned me round pulling the towel away from his body as he did. I saw his cock and wanted to grip it for it looked magnificent. God how far had I come in these few short weeks I pondered as he pushed my hands away? He struggled both of us towards the glass topped, ten setting kitchen table. Visions of Kim Basinger in Nine and a Half Weeks or was it The Postman Knocks Twice, came to mind as he bent me over it? He pushed my body forward until it was resting on the table, my breasts and nipples squashed almost flat. It was bloody cold, but the excitement of this, what was to me, fairly extreme sex easily overcame that.

"Open your legs for me Amanda?" he asked his knee going between mine and showing me what to do.

He had one hand in the middle of my back holding me down, as if I was going to struggle? The other was holding his cock as he bent his knees to bring that down to the level of my puss, which in my spread-legged position was wide open, just waiting to be filled.

I felt a pressure on my pussy lips, a moments fumbling, a second or two of preparation. Then, the most wondrous of sensations as he slithered his entire length slowly and purposefully all the way up my cunt. I felt my lips open then close around their visitor, gripping its hard, warm, throbbing length in the way that only a young girl's vagina can.

He stayed like that for quite some time. It was amazing. I felt so full, bloated, if that's a word that can be applied to a girl having a cock filling her pussy to overflowing. I wiggled myself a little and got absolutely sensational feelings all over my tummy and, funnily, my bottom as well. I swear that I could have had a full orgasm without him moving at all.

But of course he did move. Quite rightly, well he had to didn't he, after all that's what a fuck is, isn't it, a man shoving his cock up and down inside a girl's cunt?

He'd moved his hand from restraining me and was now holding both my hips, tightly, as he started to so marvellously drive his cock up and down and in and out of me. My body was exploding with sensations. I had extreme feelings everywhere and was starting to cum. But that didn't matter for what Rob had taught me was that I could have multiple orgasms with hardly a gap between them, so that in effect I had one continuous climax. And that's exactly what I did for, what I found out later was, over fifteen minutes of him shagging me. At the time it didn't occur to me and it was only afterwards that I wondered whether he had fantastic control or whether he'd been struggling to cum

At last, after what seemed the most marvellous period of endless sexual ecstasy he started to climax.

"Yes, yes, fucking hell yes Mandy, I'm cumming."

"Yes Rob, yes cum for me," I moaned back, having learned that he liked me talking during sex.

As his fingers dug harder and harder into the flesh on my hips, pulling me more firmly against him, I felt him first take those faster, deeper thrusts a man uses when he feels that he's nearly ready to cum, the surges needed to launch his sperm I suppose. Then, when that was ready to explode, I felt him slow down, go even deeper and almost hold himself as far in me as he could as it made its journey up the tubes inside that wonderful cylinder of throbbing flesh.

That all sounds very calm and collected doesn't it? But as I was shagged properly from behind for the first time it was far from that.

Without his restraining hand I had, several times raised myself so that I was almost standing straight. That, not only seemed to increase the intensity of the sensations in my pussy, but also gave him, and me, access to my tits and nipples, that we both squeezed and rubbed and pinched. It also meant that he could reach my clit and that gave me yet another first. A fuck from behind, with fingers on my most sensitive place at the Mandye time. God I was learning so much so quickly wasn't I? "Fuck, fuck fuck," he groaned. "You fucking dirty little bitch, you cock sucking Lolita." "Yes Rob, yes," I retorted fuck me, fuck me harder."

He pulled my head round by my hair, hurting me a little, but I was too far gone for that to really register. We kissed, or slurped at each others mouths really for the angles and his thrusts made proper kiss contact difficult, but so what, his tongue in my mouth and my lips on his chin were plenty enough, given what was going on elsewhere.

At last though it had to end. He was moaning and grunting and I was sighing, sobbing and groaning. Our bodies were shuddering with sensations and we were squirming against the other to gain every last bit of feeling and sexual pleasure from this momentous fuck.

Until then I was a little dubious when I read that some women felt a man's sperm inside them. Dubious I suppose because the times men had shot their load into me it was captured by the condom.

It was then, as Rob exploded that I did feel his sperm smash around inside me, and I realised that he hadn't worn a condom.

I was as worried as hell. Not pregnancy for I was, of course, on the pill, but from the disease angle. I was petrified of catching something whether it be VD, herpes or the big one.

As he slipped out of me and we both realised what we'd done, he was immediately full of remorse. He cuddled me, apologised profusely and said how sorry he was. As scared as I was I couldn't completely blame him could I? After all a girl has to take some responsibility doesn't she? I mean we claim that we have the right to change our implied yes to a categorical no even when a man's buried deep inside us. If that's the case then we should be aware enough to remind our fellow that he's riding bareback shouldn't we? Yeah, right! You show me a red-blooded woman who can change her mind with six inches or so of hard man inside her or can think to say, "hey you've forgotten the johnny" and I'll show you a liar or an ice maiden, more likely both!

I washed very carefully trying to clean myself, even though I knew full well that would be to no avail if he was affected with anything. I managed to put it out of my mind, though and after a bath I slipped into a clean pair of tight, white CK boxers and a loose tee that I sometimes wear as my PJs.

In spite of the unfortunate incident and the rather surprising, I thought at the time even though subsequent events have shown Rob not to be unusual, lack of stamina on his part, I was looking forward to sleeping with him. I'd never yet slept with a man; in fact earlier this evening was the first time I'd actually been in a bed with one! The idea of being held and cuddled, of pressing my breasts against his back, of feeling his body against mine was so romantic as well as hugely sexy that I so wanted that to happen. The fact that almost certainly we wouldn't have sex before going off to sleep was ok by me, for the potential thrill of being woken up by an erection being pressed against my bottom was more than ample compensation.

"What's happened?" I stammered as I walked into the kitchen. "Why are you dressed?"

"Sorry babe, something's come up, I have to go?"

"Go? Go where? Where do you have to go?" I, almost, whined with disappointment.

"There's a problem at the flat, my flatmate just called."

I was perplexed. I was confused and becoming angry for I just couldn't comprehend how there could be a problem at the flat that would make him have to leave. I asked him about the problem and what it was, but he was evasive. I asked him when his flatmate had called and he said he had called him about another matter a few moments ago. That made me suspicious for I was sure I would have heard the phone.

I'd obviously had suspicions about Rob. I couldn't completely explain what they were, but inevitably when a girl is never taken home by a man there's some form of problem, isn't there? Well it stands to reason, doesn't it? Maybe not the kind of girl to take home to mother? Although mothers didn't actually feature in my suspicions of him, funnily enough!

"So you're just going, are you?"

"I'm afraid I have to?"

"Will you be back? I mean it's only twelve thirty," I asked feeling a little foolish standing there in what I thought was my sexy night gear almost pleading with him.

"No, it'll be too late, I'll call you tomorrow."

A little evil streak came into me.

"No tell you what let me call you when you get home."

"Ok," he answered just before I added.

"On your house phone." I didn't have that number and had never called him there. Hmmm why?

"No call on the car phone."

"No I'd prefer the landline Rob."


"Why not?" I retorted. "Unless you've something to hide."

"What could I have to hide?" he asked.

"I've got no idea," even though I was more and more developing an idea.

"Well there's nothing to hide."

"Ok so what's the number?" I asked.

"Rob? Come on I'll call it now, chat to your flatmate," I told him mischievously.

"Fuck you," were the last words I ever heard him speak as he walked out on me.

Of course the woman he sometimes brought to the tennis club wasn't an old flame. Of course he wasn't doing her a favour and of course he was living with her. They were, even as he was fucking me, making wedding plans.

No wonder as time as gone on I have become somewhat disillusioned with men.

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by Anonymous10/17/17


Sounds autobiographical.

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