A `` Great '' Guy ... the asshole 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 microscope stage of development in schooling ... but I was ahead of the class, in history, too ... but you know what I mean. I was the magnet of the boy, mostly immature ... admiring me and a few other girlfriend from afar ... I was prosperous ... my breasts were easily the prissy at schooltime ... it was a dumb matter we all knew ... mine were the best and the others were trying to pick up up.

What breasts meant we were n't certain but we were certain they meant something n.i.c.e. tit were the key to a boy 's marrow, and his cock, and being popular and then, each day, school was out and we were all on our way nursing home ... one guy sort of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my house ... '' Hey, '' he said to me. `` Hey, back '' I said ... and we walked along. I noticed it was just us two ... '' amount on ! '' he said and pushed me to the side ... '' stop consonant, '' I said ... '' Why ? '' `` I do n't know, just quit ! '' I said.



well, as guys do, or do n't, he did n't stop and drive me to the face ... down along a side street and then down to the ground ... '' 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 breasts ... my early on self-contemplation ... and checked them out without end ... each curvature and shape as they grew ... the sheepfold, tried dissimilar bras, checked the tit which were spiritualist and antiphonal ... and here was this guy with one hundred hired man exploring ... it was different than self-examination ... my nipples were tough before he grabbed ... and I turned at him when he was there ... his mouth 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 habitation ... pulling my blouse down, my apparel up, straightening my bra straps ... he had gotten me ... the bastard ... my face was red, my whole body was flushed, I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself over ... smell, exploring -- -two hired hand, ten fingerbreadth -- not the rasping hundred handed boy -- I was still aroused with the moment, nipples hard and spiritualist to my sense of touch, my flesh had goose bump but I petted myself down, smoothing my potbelly and my little hairs..calming, soothing. I sat at the edge of my bed, still catching my breathing space, the firm quiet, the front door two-fold locked. My thighs were so very smoothen but my custody were setting me on fire. I could n't keep back them off myself and petted and wetted and squeezed on them at my waist ... boring movement, squeezing, releasing, my little backtalk and fingerbreadth, I was breathing in deeply, flexing, lying back on the bed, that rude, rough boy, I had escaped in fourth dimension ... in time 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 spot, where my fingers were probing and stroking ... what if he had done that ... This was too a good deal for me and my ramification sprang together, holding my finger ... too, intense ... too skilful for words. My ramification pushed my finger inside. I opened them again ... opinion of all this ... his 100 paw had n't gotten at my shank ... he might accept made me get along ! He could feature fucked me ... could get ...

I avoided that rude boy after the time in the alley. Made for certain I got home early for some self-examination. Then one afternoon I stayed late at shoal to see my instructor for a penning evaluation ... it was almost dark outside when our group meeting began. I entered the schoolroom and there he sat ... English was a aegir and writing a chore 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 newspaper publisher. It needs work. '' I nodded ... I mean obviously it needed employment ... I was n't a writer ... '' feeling here, '' he said and I walked around to his slope of the desk. `` Punctuation. '' `` What about it ? '' I asked. He pointed to various spots and I bent over for a closer look and closer to him ... his pointing arm against my face. 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 hired man went under my garb, fingers to my wet quim ... I could n't aid squirming ...

It was my preferent dress with pleats below the waist ... Just a school frock but gracious. Sexy. `` You 're a sexy girl, '' he said. `` You know that, do n't you. '' I just smiled and waited for a c hands all exploring me. I had the squeamish breasts in class, I knew that, I wondered if I was first in the social class between my wooden leg ... it sure felt like I was ... UH ! ... the mitt were stroking me now. He yanked down my knickers and I felt cool and hot at the same clip. My legs moved apart. They could n't help it. He bent me across his waist. `` You 're a sexy, dirty petty girl. '' His words were stinging and agitate and he lifted my dress. More manipulation ... and then a whack on my bottomland ... '' You should be spanked because you 're bemire, '' 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 paw. `` Sit on me, '' he said, lifting me away from his lap. He pulled my leg apart, feeling up my thigh and I sat on him ... I leaned my school principal on his articulatio humeri, shivering, not from the cold ... from the heating plant and belief of his 100 finger and my shank moving to get Sir Thomas More, experience more, breath more ... I was gulping for air as he said dirty row in my ear ... I was his `` wet cunt '' his `` dirty cunt '' his `` small tart '' I was a dancer too, my shank dancing on his finger ... then I said `` Stop. '' `` full stop. It 's too ... much. '' and he held me there. I did n't finger dirty at all. My lilliputian body portion clinging to his fingers ... resting, relieved, washed and clean is what I felt.

I was on my bed now at habitation, lying back, dreaming, in my dream he was doing the work, stroking, petting, just ... AH ! ... just there and I was flexing hard and my forefront back on his shoulder as he touched and explored, thrilling me and I pulled on his script at my waist ... it was so quiet in school ... so quiet. I think he liked my written material technique. I got a passing ground level. I learned a kind of deterrent example. I got to thinking, on many dark, about the two guys. They were both gravelly, one grabbing, one spanking. Very different but the like upshot ... they got me going. The spanking though was best. The instructor would hit my bottom and then rest his handwriting on me, moving it around, like soothing the skin he had hit and then spanking me again, smoothing again. It stung each fourth dimension but I forgot about the bite and waited for his soothing pinch. Then I was raising my rump, opening to his sense of touch when the palm of his helping hand slid on my lips, fingers dipping ... I put my bridge player back ... I was all puffed and wet and the palm of his hand made me stir and move on it ... then he would catch one's breath his hand and looseness with me, his fingerbreadth sliding up and down as I lifted more and he made me come on his digit, my cunt in the palm of his deal, my face on his knee joint. He felt my hot brass and my breathing on him ... it seemed alike 60 minutes but it was minutes and I hoped he would check my newspaper some meter soon ...

dark after night I went to sleep with these conflicting ambition ... spanking, searching paw, disgusting manus forcing me down ... it all put me to slumber ... after I had thought it all through ... it was the combination of pain followed by intense delight ... awaking with the slap, ignited by the fingers probing ... I could almost come just by thinking about it ... of a one hundred hired man I only needed my digit .