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

He walked along face after schoolhouse was out ... me with my splendid profile, I thought, and what did I know ... we were teenager after all ... each of us at stages of evolution in schooling ... but I was ahead of the family, in history, too ... but you know what I mean. I was the magnet of the boys, mostly immature ... admiring me and a few other girls from afar ... I was lucky ... my titty were easily the nice at school ... it was a mute affair we all knew ... mine were the best and the others were trying to hitch up.

What breasts meant we were n't sure but we were for certain they meant something n.i.c.e. Breasts were the key to a boy 's heart, and his dick, and being popular and then, each day, school was out and we were all on our way house ... one guy kind of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my sign ... '' 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 incline ... '' Stop, '' I said ... '' Why ? '' `` I do n't know, just cease ! '' I said.



wellspring, as guys do, or do n't, he did n't stop and pushed me to the side ... down along a side of meat street and then down to the reason ... '' Come on, '' he said ... '' Let me go, '' I cried as he pushed me down and now he was like one hundred hands ... I did n't know a guy could have so many hands and they were all on me. I said, `` Stop '' again but he did n't.

As I was developing, I naturally admired my chest ... my early self-examinations ... and checked them out without end ... each curve and frame as they grew ... the folds, tried different bras, checked the pap which were sensitive and antiphonal ... and here was this guy with one hundred hands exploring ... it was different than self-examination ... my nipples were strong before he grabbed ... and I turned at him when he was there ... his mouth on mine ... '' You are a picayune teaser, '' 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 men 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 shit ... my face was red, my whole body was flushed, I stood in front end of the mirror and looked myself over ... feeling, exploring -- -two hands, ten digit -- not the rough century handed boy -- I was still afire with the moment, nipples concentrated and sensitive to my touch, my flesh had goose bumps but I petted myself down, smoothing my tummy and my slight hairs..calming, soothing. I sat at the edge of my bed, still catching my breath, the star sign restrained, the nominal head door double locked. My thigh were so very suave but my paw were setting me on flak. I could n't hold open them off myself and petted and wetted and squeezed on them at my waist ... dull movement, squeezing, releasing, my piddling rim and fingerbreadth, I was breathing in deeply, flexing, lying back on the bed, that rude, rough out boy, I had escaped in time ... in time for this ! My feet were up now, and spread apart, thinking of him pushing me down, grabbing at my knocker, but he had n't tried for my waist..not there, just at that, AH ! ..special spot, where my fingerbreadth were probing and stroking ... what if he had done that ... This was too much for me and my branch sprang together, holding my digit ... too, vivid ... too unspoilt for quarrel. My peg pushed my digit inside. I opened them again ... thought of all this ... his one hundred hand had n't gotten at my shank ... he might have made me come ! He could have fucked me ... could cause ...

I avoided that rude boy after the time in the alley. Made sure I got home early for some self-examination. Then one good afternoon I stayed late at schoolhouse to see my teacher for a write evaluation ... it was almost dark outside when our meeting began. I entered the schoolroom and there he sat ... English was a bore and writing a task and a pass grade was barely in sight 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 writer ... '' Look here, '' he said and I walked around to his position of the desk. `` Punctuation. '' `` What about it ? '' I asked. He pointed to several slur and I bent over for a nearer flavor and closer to him ... his pointing arm against my side. He had a cologne ... '' What 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 bridge player went under my wearing apparel, digit to my wet quim ... I could n't help squirming ...

It was my deary dress with pleats below the waist ... Just a school dress but nice. Sexy. `` You 're a sexy lady friend, '' he said. `` You know that, do n't you. '' I just smiled and waited for a c hands all exploring me. I had the prissy breasts in socio-economic class, I knew that, I wondered if I was first in the class between my peg ... it trusted felt like I was ... UH ! ... the hired man were stroking me now. He yanked down my knickers and I felt cool off and hot at the same fourth dimension. My legs moved apart. They could n't help it. He bent me across his waist. `` You 're a sexy, dingy piffling girl. '' His words were stinging and turn on and he lifted my dress. More handling ... and then a whack on my bottom ... '' You should be spanked because you 're dingy, '' he said and he spanked me again ... pushing me against his leg. Now he was massaging my bottomland ... spanking me again as I moved against his hand. `` Sit on me, '' he said, lifting me away from his lap. He pulled my legs apart, feeling up my second joint and I sat on him ... I leaned my brain on his shoulder joint, shivering, not from the common cold ... from the oestrus and smell of his one hundred fingers and my waist moving to get more than, feel more, breath more ... I was gulping for air as he said dirty words in my ear ... I was his `` wet cunt '' his `` dirty cunt '' his `` little tart '' I was a dancer too, my shank dancing on his finger ... then I said `` plosive consonant. '' `` Stop. It 's too ... much. '' and he held me there. I did n't feel dirty at all. My little body parts clinging to his digit ... resting, relieved, washed and unclouded is what I felt.

I was on my bed now at home, lying back, dreaming, in my aspiration he was doing the piece of work, 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 bridge player at my waist ... it was so quiet in schooling ... so repose. I think he liked my writing technique. I got a qualifying grade. I learned a kind of lesson. I got to thinking, on many nights, about the two guys. They were both rough, one grabbing, one spanking. Very unlike but the same result ... they got me going. The spank though was best. The teacher would hit my bum and then breathe his hand on me, moving it around, like soothing the cutis he had hit and then spanking me again, smoothing again. It stung each fourth dimension but I forgot about the sting and waited for his soothing touch. Then I was raising my fanny, opening to his touch when the laurel wreath of his paw slid on my brim, fingers dipping ... I put my deal back ... I was all puffed and wet and the medal of his hand made me shake and move on it ... then he would rest his hand and looseness with me, his fingers sliding up and down as I lifted more and he made me come on his finger's breadth, my cunt in the palm of his hand, my impertinence on his knees. He felt my hot nerve and my ventilation on him ... it seemed same hours but it was bit and I hoped he would assure my papers some time soon ...

Night after night I went to sleep with these conflicting dream ... spanking, searching hands, disgusting hand forcing me down ... it all put me to sleep ... after I had thought it all through ... it was the combination of pain followed by intense pleasance ... awaking with the smacking, ignited by the finger probing ... I could almost derive just by thinking about it ... of a hundred custody I only needed my fingers .