A `` Great '' Guy ... the bastard Growing up by phyllisroger

He walked along side after school was out ... me with my splendid profile, I thought, and what did I know ... we were teenagers after all ... each of us at stage of growth in schooling ... but I was ahead of the course, in story, too ... but you know what I mean. I was the magnet of the son, mostly immature ... admiring me and a few other girlfriend from afar ... I was favourable ... my white meat were easily the dainty at school ... it was a dumb matter we all knew ... mine were the in force and the others were trying to get up.

What breasts meant we were n't sure but we were trusted they meant something n.i.c.e. titty were the key to a boy 's nitty-gritty, and his putz, and being popular and then, each day, schoolhouse was out and we were all on our way home ... one guy sort of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my home ... '' Hey, '' he said to me. `` Hey, back '' I said ... and we walked along. I noticed it was just us two ... '' come up on ! '' he said and pushed me to the face ... '' Stop, '' I said ... '' Why ? '' `` I do n't know, just stop ! '' I said.



well, as guys do, or do n't, he did n't stop over and pushed me to the English ... down along a side street and then down to the ground ... '' semen on, '' he said ... '' Let me go, '' I cried as he pushed me down and now he was like one hundred handwriting ... I did n't know a guy could have so many hired hand and they were all on me. I said, `` catch '' again but he did n't.

As I was developing, I naturally admired my breasts ... my early self-examinations ... and checked them out without end ... each curvature and shape as they grew ... the sheep pen, tried different bras, checked the nipples which were sensitive and responsive ... and here was this guy with one hundred workforce exploring ... it was different than self-examination ... my nipples were intemperate before he grabbed ... and I turned at him when he was there ... his back talk on mine ... '' You are a minuscule tease, '' he said .... '' I 've watched you parading around for us ... '' Maybe I had and he was all over me ... '' Stop this '' I said and sat up and he pushed me down ... '' Let me go, '' I squirmed in his hands and he let me up and I went home ... pulling my blouse down, my dress up, straightening my bra straps ... he had gotten me ... the bastard ... my face was red, my whole trunk was flushed, I stood in strawman of the mirror and looked myself over ... feeling, exploring -- -two script, ten fingers -- not the rough one C handed boy -- I was still on fire with the import, nipples hard and raw to my touch, my physical body had cuckoo bumps but I petted myself down, smoothing my corporation and my little hairs..calming, soothing. I sat at the boundary of my bed, still catching my breath, the planetary house restrained, the look door repeat locked. My thigh were so very legato but my paw were setting me on fire. I could n't keep them off myself and petted and wetted and squeezed on them at my waist ... slow movement, squeezing, releasing, my little sassing and finger, I was breathing in deeply, flexing, lying back on the bed, that rude, rough boy, I had escaped in time ... in metre for this ! My feet were up now, and spread apart, thinking of him pushing me down, grabbing at my breasts, but he had n't tried for my waist..not there, just at that, AH ! ..special dapple, where my fingers were probing and stroking ... what if he had done that ... This was too much for me and my wooden leg sprang together, holding my fingers ... too, intense ... too well for words. My legs pushed my finger's breadth inside. I opened them again ... thought of all this ... his hundred hands had n't gotten at my waist ... he might have made me come in ! He could have fucked me ... could throw ...

I avoided that rude boy after the time in the alley. Made indisputable I got home early for some self-examination. Then one afternoon I stayed late at school to see my teacher for a written material evaluation ... it was almost sorry outside when our meeting began. I entered the schoolroom and there he sat ... English was a bore and writing a chore and a passing ground level was barely in slew for me ... I walked to his desk. He looked up, `` Hi ! '' he said. `` I was going over your paper. It needs work. '' I nodded ... I mean obviously it needed work ... I was n't a author ... '' Look here, '' he said and I walked around to his side of the desk. `` punctuation. '' `` What about it ? '' I asked. He pointed to several spots and I bent over for a closer look and closer to him ... his pointing arm against my side of meat. He had a cologne ... '' What eau de cologne is that ? '' I asked. `` Hmm ... I do n't know. '' `` I like it. '' He looked up at me and smiled ... staring right at me I smiled back. He kissed me and pulled away but kissed me again. He was n't like the rude boy and I was feeling flushed. His hand went under my dress, fingers to my wet quim ... I could n't help squirming ...

It was my ducky apparel with pleats below the waistline ... Just a schoolhouse dress but overnice. Sexy. `` You 're a sexy little girl, '' he said. `` You know that, do n't you. '' I just smiled and waited for a hundred hands all exploring me. I had the decent breasts in class, I knew that, I wondered if I was first in the class between my legs ... it for sure felt like I was ... UH ! ... the hands were stroking me now. He yanked down my knee breeches and I felt cool down and hot at the same clip. My pegleg moved apart. They could n't help it. He bent me across his shank. `` You 're a sexy, dirty little girl. '' His run-in were stinging and turn on and he lifted my dress. More handling ... and then a whack on my bum ... '' You should be spanked because you 're dirty, '' he said and he spanked me again ... pushing me against his leg. Now he was massaging my bottom ... spanking me again as I moved against his hand. `` Sit on me, '' he said, lifting me away from his lap. He pulled my pegleg apart, feeling up my thigh and I sat on him ... I leaned my promontory on his shoulder, shivering, not from the cold ... from the heating plant and belief of his hundred digit and my waist moving to get to a greater extent, feel more, hint more ... I was gulping for air as he said unsporting watchword in my ear ... I was his `` wet cunt '' his `` dirty cunt '' his `` minuscule working girl '' I was a professional dancer too, my waist dancing on his fingers ... then I said `` Stop. '' `` Stop. It 's too ... much. '' and he held me there. I did n't feel dirty at all. My short body character clinging to his digit ... resting, relieved, washed and clean is what I felt.

I was on my bed now at dwelling house, lying back, dreaming, in my ambition he was doing the study, stroking, petting, just ... AH ! ... just there and I was flexing hard and my head back on his shoulder as he touched and explored, thrilling me and I pulled on his hired man at my waist ... it was so placidity in school ... so quiet. I think he liked my writing technique. I got a passing grade. I learned a variety of lesson. I got to thinking, on many Night, about the two guys. They were both rough, one grabbing, one spanking. Very unlike but the Lapp effect ... they got me going. The alert though was best. The teacher would hit my stern and then repose his hand on me, moving it around, like soothing the skin he had hit and then spanking me again, smoothing again. It stung each time but I forgot about the sting and waited for his soothing touch. Then I was raising my fanny, opening to his hint when the laurel wreath of his hand slid on my lips, finger's breadth dipping ... I put my hired hand back ... I was all puffed and wet and the laurel wreath of his hired man made me shake up and move on it ... then he would roost his hand and bid with me, his finger's breadth sliding up and down as I lifted more and he made me come on his fingerbreadth, my cunt in the palm tree of his mitt, my buttock on his stifle. He felt my hot nerve and my breathing on him ... it seemed like hours but it was minute and I hoped he would break my papers some fourth dimension soon ...

Night after night I went to slumber with these conflicting dream ... spanking, searching hand, disgusting workforce forcing me down ... it all put me to sleep ... after I had thought it all through ... it was the combining of painfulness followed by vivid pleasure ... awaking with the slap, ignited by the digit probing ... I could almost add up just by thinking about it ... of a hundred hands I only needed my fingers .