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

He walked along side after school was out ... me with my splendid visibility, I thought, and what did I know ... we were teenagers after all ... each of us at stage of growth in school ... but I was ahead of the category, in History, too ... but you know what I mean. I was the magnet of the boys, mostly immature ... admiring me and a few other female child from afar ... I was lucky ... my chest were easily the nicest at school ... it was a silent thing we all knew ... mine were the best and the others were trying to catch up.

What breasts meant we were n't sure but we were sure they meant something n.i.c.e. Breasts were the key to a boy 's heart, and his dick, and being democratic and then, each day, school was out and we were all on our way home ... one guy sort of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my sign of the zodiac ... '' Hey, '' he said to me. `` Hey, back '' I said ... and we walked along. I noticed it was just us two ... '' Come on ! '' he said and pushed me to the side ... '' occlusion, '' I said ... '' Why ? '' `` I do n't know, just block off ! '' I said.



Well, as hombre do, or do n't, he did n't stop and advertise me to the side ... down along a slope street and then down to the soil ... '' ejaculate 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 hands and they were all on me. I said, `` full point '' again but he did n't.

As I was developing, I naturally admired my breasts ... my other self-examinations ... and checked them out without end ... each bender and shape as they grew ... the folds, tried different bandeau, checked the nipples which were sensitive and responsive ... and here was this guy with one hundred hands exploring ... it was unlike than self-examination ... my nipple were hard before he grabbed ... and I turned at him when he was there ... his mouth on mine ... '' You are a little tease, '' he said .... '' I 've watched you parading around for us ... '' Maybe I had and he was all over me ... '' intercept this '' I said and sat up and he pushed me down ... '' Let me go, '' I squirmed in his work force and he let me up and I went home ... pulling my blouse down, my dress up, straightening my bra shoulder strap ... he had gotten me ... the bastard ... my human face was red, my hale body was flushed, I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself over ... feeling, exploring -- -two hands, ten fingers -- not the gravelly hundred handed boy -- I was still on fire with the second, nipples hard and sore to my spot, my flesh had goose swelling but I petted myself down, smoothing my tummy and my little hairs..calming, soothing. I sat at the border of my bed, still catching my breath, the house quiet, the front door stunt man locked. My thighs were so very smooth but my hands were setting me on fire. I could n't keep them off myself and petted and wetted and squeezed on them at my waist ... retard movement, squeezing, releasing, my little lips and fingers, I was breathing in deeply, flexing, lying back on the bed, that rude, rough boy, I had escaped in prison term ... in fourth dimension for this ! My understructure were up now, and spread apart, thinking of him pushing me down, grabbing at my chest, but he had n't tried for my waist..not there, just at that, AH ! ..special touch, where my digit were probing and stroking ... what if he had done that ... This was too much for me and my pegleg sprang together, holding my digit ... too, acute ... too good for words. My legs pushed my fingers inside. I opened them again ... thought of all this ... his one hundred manus had n't gotten at my waist ... he might take made me follow ! He could have fucked me ... could take in ...

I avoided that rude boy after the time in the alley. Made sure I got home early for some self-examination. Then one afternoon I stayed late at shoal to see my instructor for a pen evaluation ... it was almost dark outside when our merging began. I entered the classroom and there he sat ... English was a bore and writing a chore and a loss grade was barely in sight for me ... I walked to his desk. He looked up, `` Hi ! '' he said. `` I was going over your newspaper publisher. It needs work. '' I nodded ... I mean obviously it needed work ... I was n't a writer ... '' aspect here, '' he said and I walked around to his side of the desk. `` Punctuation. '' `` What about it ? '' I asked. He pointed to various spots and I bent over for a tight look and closer to him ... his pointing arm against my side. He had a cologne water ... '' What cologne is that ? '' I asked. `` Hmm ... I do n't sleep together. '' `` 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 hired man went under my dress, fingers to my wet quim ... I could n't help squirming ...

It was my favorite garb with pleats below the waist ... Just a school attire but nice. Sexy. `` You 're a sexy girlfriend, '' he said. `` You know that, do n't you. '' I just smiled and waited for a hundred hands all exploring me. I had the nicest breasts in family, I knew that, I wondered if I was first in the family between my legs ... it sure felt like I was ... UH ! ... the handwriting were stroking me now. He yanked down my knickers and I felt coolheaded and hot at the Lapp time. My pegleg moved apart. They could n't help it. He bent me across his waist. `` You 're a sexy, dirty little missy. '' His words were stinging and stimulate and he lifted my dress. More handling ... and then a whack on my bottom ... '' 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 merchant ship ... spanking me again as I moved against his handwriting. `` Sit on me, '' he said, lifting me away from his lap. He pulled my pegleg apart, feeling up my second joint and I sat on him ... I leaned my head on his shoulder, shivering, not from the cold ... from the high temperature and touch of his hundred fingers and my waist moving to get to a greater extent, palpate more, intimation more ... I was gulping for air as he said sordid tidings in my ear ... I was his `` wet twat '' his `` dirty cunt '' his `` picayune woman of the street '' I was a dancer too, my waistline dancing on his digit ... then I said `` halt. '' `` Stop. It 's too ... much. '' and he held me there. I did n't feel dirty at all. My niggling consistency parts clinging to his fingers ... resting, relieved, washed and clean is what I felt.

I was on my bed now at home, lying back, dreaming, in my aspiration he was doing the work, stroking, petting, just ... AH ! ... just there and I was flexing hard and my pass back on his shoulder as he touched and explored, thrilling me and I pulled on his manus at my waistline ... it was so smooth in school ... so subdued. I think he liked my writing technique. I got a passing play grade. I learned a variety of lesson. I got to thinking, on many nights, about the two guy wire. They were both rough, one grabbing, one spanking. Very dissimilar but the same resultant ... they got me going. The rattling though was best. The teacher would hit my bottom and then rest his mitt on me, moving it around, like soothing the skin he had hit and then spanking me again, smoothing again. It stung each clock time but I forgot about the sting and waited for his soothing touch modality. Then I was raising my hindquarters, opening to his contact when the palm of his hand slid on my sassing, fingers dipping ... I put my paw back ... I was all puffed and wet and the palm of his handwriting made me shake and move on it ... then he would pillow his deal and caper with me, his fingers sliding up and down as I lifted more and he made me add up on his fingers, my cunt in the palm of his hand, my buttock on his articulatio genus. He felt my hot cheek and my respiration on him ... it seemed like time of day but it was minutes and I hoped he would check my papers some fourth dimension soon ...

Night after night I went to sleep with these conflicting dreaming ... spanking, searching hands, disgusting hands forcing me down ... it all put me to sleep ... after I had thought it all through ... it was the combination of pain followed by vivid pleasure ... awaking with the slap, ignited by the fingerbreadth probing ... I could almost get just by thinking about it ... of a one hundred bridge player I only needed my finger .