Related Free Sites - PopUp Free!
Fetish X Toys | BDSM World | The Fetish Exchange

Back to more "Virgin" and "First time" Sex Stories



Archive-name: First/louise.txt
Archive-author: Steve Edwards    (c) 1993
Archive-title: Louise's Awakening


Copyright Steve Edwards, October 1993. 

Warning: The following is a work of fiction, which hopefully you will find 
erotic.  All characters and places are figments of the author's imagination 
and any resemblence to real events is purely coincidental. It contains 
explicit material not suitable for minors. If you decide to engage in
sexual activities, please follow safe sex guidelines.

It may be distributed electronically, but only with these disclaimers and 
byline attached. It may not be sold for profit, except by me.


                                    Awakening

          1. Discovery

            Louise smiled ruefully at her guilty face which was
          reflected back from the mirror. Well she might be shamefaced,
          having spent so long admiring her body in her parents' full
          length mirror. She flattered herself, admittedly with some
          justification, that she was a sane, sensible girl, not given
          to inordinate vanity and ridiculous dreams. Nevertheless she
          couldn't deny that she'd just spent an appreciable amount of
          time examining her body with self-satisfaction. She'd entered
          her parent's bedroom that evening with the intention of
          returning her mother's bubble-bath to their on-suite
          bathroom. While passing through her attention had been
          grabbed by her startling reflection. Dressed as she was in
          bathrobe tied loosely at the waist, having come straight from
          her bath, she looked ... . Louise wasn't quite sure what word
          she would choose to describe how she looked this evening. It
          must be admitted that "stunning", "beautiful", and "sexy",
          did occur to her, but each was rejected in turn, mainly due
          to her innate modesty and to a vein of self-depreciation
          which ran through her nature. Almost any objective observer
          however, would have been happy to apply all of these words to
          describe Louise's voluptuous and sensual teenage body, and
          many of both sexes would probably have added "fuckable" to
          the list as well. For it could not be denied, even by Louise
          herself, that by age sixteen, her body had bloomed in a most
          agreeable way.

            As she had stood before the mirror, admiring the clear
          white complexion of her tantalisingly revealed cleavage, and
          the silky smooth texture of her nicely shaped calves and
          lower thighs, Louise had been tempted to untie her robe, and
          let it fall to the floor behind her. Succumbing with
          alacrity, Louise had stood naked before the mirror. After
          admiring herself from every side, she had noted with
          satisfaction the flatness of her stomach, and that her soft
          blond pubic hair looked a little more substantial than when
          she'd last examined herself. It had remained a light fuzz for
          far too long, most of her friends had veritable bushes while
          her's had remained hardly noticeable, she'd observed to
          herself on numerous occasions in school changing-rooms.
          Louise examined her breasts with some concern: she was happy
          with the size that they were now, slightly more than a
          handful, but was concerned least they should grow much more,
          and start to sag. At present there was no sign of such a
          fate, they stood firm and proud, thrusting jauntily out in
          front of her. Now, while our imaginary observer
          couldn't be expected to share Louise's concerns on this
          matter, no doubt he (or she) would nevertheless, had they
          existed, have been more than happy to assist her in her
          examination as she held and weighed her breasts.

            Inevitably, Louise's fingers brushed her nipples, and, as
          was their want, they erected themselves. Normally Louise
          found her nipples exquisitely sensitive, and hated it when
          they stood proud from their light pink surround, and she
          could hardly bare touching them. Today however, she was
          captivated by the sensuality of the vision they formed. There
          was something essentially sexual about how she looked: her
          breasts cupped in her hands, her nipples thrusting through
          her spread fingers, and a healthy flush on her cheeks.
          Against her normal practice, she touched her nipples
          deliberately, lightly squeezing them between her fingers.
          Exquisite sensations darted from them, pleasure being the
          dominant component of the thrill. Louise was emboldened to
          press her palms over them, and the resulting sensations
          caused a deeper flush to rise to her cheeks. Sliding her
          palms over her breasts was almost too much, and she couldn't
          help gasping.

            A little bit frightened by the intensity of the pleasure,
          Louise stopped then, and let her hands fall to her side. Her
          nipples were hard now, erect and dark pink, the areolae
          puckered around them, drawing attention to their saucy
          boldness. Louise couldn't avoid recognising that she was no
          longer a girl, she now had a woman's body. `A body men would
          die for', she whispered to herself, with gentle self-mockery.

            It was at this stage that she'd caught her own eye and had
          smiled ruefully. Picking up her robe, she slipped it on. Her
          parents were out and they wouldn't get back for a couple of
          hours yet, having gone out for a romantic meal, but she
          didn't have the house to herself. Her pesky brother was
          around somewhere, probably in his bedroom playing
          video-games, but she could guarantee that it would be just at
          the time that she decided to dart between bedrooms naked,
          that he would emerge from his messy kingdom. He was two years
          younger than she was, and so had already entered that most
          disagreeable of phases that all male adolescents go through.
          Their thinking, feelings, and attitudes were all equally,
          utterly, in-comprehensible to Louise. At least, she assumed
          that they passed through it; there were still enough jerks in
          her class at school who delighted in bothering her to make
          that assumption questionable to say the least.

            As she entered her bedroom, Louise reflected that it was
          only today that the horrible Andrew Manchester had sat on her
          desk, cracking gum in that smug self-assured way that he had,
          and had assured her that she was "drop dead gorgeous" and
          would she like him to show her "heaven" behind the Sports
          Hall at lunch time? Fat chance with a slime-bucket like that!
          What could he be thinking to think that such an approach
          would work! Who in their right mind would be attracted by
          such macho-shit? After he'd gone back to his seat, she and
          Amy Marshall, her best friend who sat next to her in most
          classes, and who had overheard everything, had cracked up
          with giggles. Not very "cool",  but it had relieved the
          tension.

            Louise put on Madonna's "Erotic" CD, before sitting down at
          her dressing table to brush out her long hair. This nightly
          chore of brushing out her hair was often performed to the
          strains of her latest purchase. The lyrics, suggesting the
          desirability of hands running all over her body, made Louise
          aware that her nipples were still half erect and sensitive,
          and that that her vigorous brushing was causing them to chaff
          on her robe. The sensations were not unpleasant, indeed, she
          soon found herself twisting slightly to increase the
          friction.

            Leaving her hair with only a perfunctory brush, Louise
          opened her robe, admiring again her silky white breasts with
          their torrid pinnacles. With engrossed fascination, she
          watched her reflection as she lifted and pushed her breasts
          together. Her cleavage deepened, looking like a buxom wench
          in a medieval movie, Louise noted to herself with wry
          amusement. However, the sexiness of this vision was not lost
          on her. Indeed a rather lewd thought occurred to her which,
          after only a relatively brief struggle, overcame her qualms.
          Acting on it, she quickly licked the forefinger of her right
          hand, and ran it over the tingling nipple of her still
          prominently offered left breast.

            The `Oh' that escaped was quite involuntary, as was the
          flush which quickly rose to her cheeks. After re-licking her
          finger, together with her thumb, she tentatively encircled
          the engorged nubbin of pleasure between them. The sensations
          were intense as the slight pressure was applied, and Louise
          began to feel hot and sexy in way she'd never experienced
          before. She'd hadn't realised that her body was capable of
          producing such feelings! Louise closed her eyes to focus on
          the pleasure as her slickened fingers worked their magic,
          unaware that she was parting and closing her thighs in
          response to a deep primal need.

            Wetting her left hand similarly, she proceeded to gently
          squeeze and caress both of her nipples at the same time.
          Louise was unaware that a soft whimper was forced from her by
          these unbelievable, and previously un-imagined, thrills.
          Driven by urgent passion and an instinctive knowledge, Louise
          pinched her slippery nipples harder than previously, and
          gasped as her nipples slid through her fingers, and erotic
          sensations shot through her body, eventually finding a home
          between her legs. The fire that had been stoked into a red
          hot furnace between her legs now impinged itself upon
          Louise's consciousness. She also became aware of the rhythmic
          rocking of her legs, especially of the stab of pleasure that
          accompanied each closing swing.

            Still keeping her eyes closed and her fingers gently
          pulling and squeezing, Louise consciously controlled the
          movement of her legs. She quickly discovered that the best
          results were obtained from spreading wider and clenching
          tighter. On each outward swing Louise could feel her pussy
          lips parting, her cunt gaping, and on each inward swing there
          was that marvellous sensation of folds caressing each other
          as they came together, rushing towards a slippery embrace of
          her throbbing clitoris. For yes, Louise could feel that she
          was getting wet down there.

            This slowly awakened some curiosity, but it was only
          slowly, as no thought was travelling fast through Louise's
          pleasured fogged mind at present. Louise opened her eyes and,
          catching her reflection in front of her, noted idly how
          aroused she appeared, as she looked from under
          passion-drooped eyelids. Reluctantly she stopped her right
          hand's caresses, ceasing with a last delicious squeeze, she
          slipped off her robe, and then lowered her hand down between
          her still rocking legs. Louise had often touched herself
          between her legs, normally only to wash or to insert a
          tampon, but occasionally to investigate, however never before
          had she found herself so wet. Juices from her vagina had
          flowed freely, coating her puffy labia with a slick film
          which she felt as her hand reached it destination.

            Wonder at the workings of her anatomy was cut short however
          by the thrill which coincided with her closing legs forcing
          her hand against her clitoris. The involuntary `Oohhh!!!'
          which the thrill gave rise to was recklessly loud given the
          proximity of her brother, and his congenital inability to
          remember to knock before entering her room. However, before
          Louise could recover enough to realise this, her legs had
          opened and closed again almost on their own initiative, and
          the thrill was repeated. Louise was lost. The throbbing of
          her clitoris had gone into overdrive, and was now almost
          continuous. Her moans were more regular and slightly quieter,
          not from design, but from the shallow panting which failed to
          provide the necessary volume of air for more noise.

            Louise threw her head back as she continued to squeeze one
          nipple more roughly than before, and as she rubbed her labia
          and clitoris with her other hand. She quickly discovered that
          it was touching that throbbing of button of pleasure that 
          produced the most intense feelings. Such knowledge was destined 
          to be applied, and not to remain an academic curiosity. She wasn't
          sure how it would end, wasn't sure if she wanted it to end,
          but she instinctively knew that she needed to throw herself
          into the growing wave of pleasure that threatened to break
          over her at any second. Unexpectedly, images of Andrew
          Manchester arose before Louise as her climax neared. It was
          his mouth that closed on hers as her fingers rocked on her
          clitoris, it was his smell that enveloped her, and his tongue
          which entered her mouth as the wave broke, and Louise arched
          and sobbed an 'Ahhhhhhh!!' as pleasure racked her frame, and
          her thighs squeezed her hand hard against her pussy.

            Within seconds Louise's head had cleared from befuddling
          passion, and to say that her emotions and thoughts were mixed
          would be an understatement. She was at once amazed and
          dismayed: amazed that her body was capable of giving her such
          pleasure, and that she had never discovered it before;
          dismayed that her thoughts had turned to Andrew Manchester,
          and that she had been so noisy. Dismay got the upper-hand, as
          it was reinforced by doubt, doubt about the correctness of
          such behaviour. Was it right to enjoy such pleasures? Or was
          she in some way sinning, or pandering to vanity or ....
          Louise was just about to settle down into serious
          self-criticism when she heard her brother's door open.
          Guessing that he was coming to see her, she quickly put her
          robe back on, and tried to look natural.

            She'd hardly succeeded when Michael burst in and said `Hi
          Sis!', and flopped down on her bed. Louise's reflection told
          her that she still looked flushed and rather guilty, but
          Michael was far too wrapped up in himself to notice. He
          started telling her how he'd just finished watching a great
          video, a real hack-'em-up-&-watch-their-blood-spurt-everywhere
          movie. `Shut-up Michael! You know I hate hearing about those kinds
          of stories', Louise demanded, throwing a nail-file that was
          at hand at him. She missed. `How did you get it anyway? You
          know mother will hit the roof if she catches you watching
          something like that again!', she continued.

            `She'll never know will she!', explained Michael as though
          to an idiot, revealing he had totally adopted the doctrine
          which taught that "if you aren't caught, you aren't guilty".
          Louise didn't share that view, and had told him why on many
          occasions, but she didn't feel like arguing with him just
          now. `Scram, I'm going to bed', she ordered, glad that she
          had a reason for getting rid of him so quickly, eager as she
          was to be alone and think over her recent experiences.
          Michael rose lazily from the bed ... going extra slowly just
          to annoy her ... and said as he was going out the door, `What
          you need is a vibrator!'

            This threw Louise into complete confusion, `How did he know
          ...? What had he seen ...?', until it occurred to her that
          the comment had been in response to her crabbiness, and not
          her recent ... `... "masturbation" I suppose I should call
          it', concluded Louise to herself. Relief made her smile, but
          she made a mental note to herself to be more friendly in
          future ... for although Michael was impossible sometimes, he
          was still her little brother.

            Louise slipped out of her robe, slid on her white cotton
          night-dress, and got in between the clean white sheets. She
          knew however that sleep was going to elude her until she had
          time to think through all that had happened. On reflection,
          she wasn't that surprised with the pleasurable sensations,
          after all there had to be some reason why people were always
          going on about sex! She thought a little bit kinder now on
          some of her fellow pupils who had been sleeping with boys
          .... if it felt even better than masturbation it must be
          unbelievable! Not that she'd consider sleeping with anyone
          apart from her husband. No way whatsoever! It might be old
          fashioned, and her friends might consider her weird, but she
          was sure that she was going to be a virgin on her wedding
          day. She wanted wear her white wedding-dress with pride and a
          clear conscience. It occurred to her then, for the first
          time, that it might be hard waiting. This thought, however,
          she was able to banish quickly. Reader, do not be surprised
          at this confidence, for as yet our heroine little understands
          the depths of her own sensuality, and she has yet to
          experience the horny longings caused by an extended make-out
          session. Whether her principles will, in the end, withstand
          her passions is the question which we will hope to see
          answered, as we follow the awakening of Louise.

            Louise's thoughts now turned to a more perplexing problem:
          why had she thought of Andrew Manchester just as she was
          climaxing? She still felt the same revulsion to him that
          she'd always felt, although, if she was being totally honest
          with herself (and that was just what she intended to be),
          there was a way in which his confidence and self-assurance
          was rather sexy. The idea of strong arms and assured kisses
          were potent images to her inexperienced imagination, and
          coincided with what she was sure her ideal man would possess.
          Louise also had the self-understanding to realise that
          subtly, underneath her fury at his approach, she had been
          more than a little flattered that a hunk that many girls in
          her class were drooling over was making such a public play
          for her. Louise played the image she had conjured up earlier
          of Andrew's kisses over again in her mind. That he would be
          able to tap that self-confidence of his in his kisses to turn
          his girl to jelly, Louise had no doubt. She could imagine
          what it must be like to be held upright by his strong arms,
          while his drugged kisses made her utterly weak, and dependent
          upon his strength.

            The slide from introspective questioning to fantasising was
          gradual one, and Louise was never conscious of the change.
          Nevertheless, this didn't stop the fantasies from heating her
          up in a way she had only experienced for the first time this
          evening. Louise didn't identify the throb of her clitoris or
          the ach of her nipples as the cause of her sudden hotness,
          she only knew that she felt an urge to peel off her
          night-dress. This she did in one fluid movement: sitting up,
          pulling it over her, and discarding it on the floor with
          grace. She felt sinful, delicious, and playful, all at once,
          as the sheets slid over her body as she moved down the bed
          again. The rubbing of the sheets over her naked breasts was
          arousing. Her nipples stood-up to ensure that they got more
          than their fair-share of any caresses going.

            Once settled, Louise returned to her fantasy, the energy
          sapping kisses of Andrew. She remembered that he'd promised
          her "heaven" behind the Sports Hall, only now, rather than
          concentrating on the insult, she concentrated on what it
          might mean. Andrew leaning her back against the Sports Hall
          wall, freeing a hand that had been supporting her, so that he
          could cup one of her breasts. As she lay in bed, Louise
          cupped her left breast, emulating the feel of Andrew's hand.
          In real-life, as in her fantasy, this brought a murmur of
          encouragement to her lips. Andrew's large hand squeezed and
          caressed her breast, and then he ran his thumb over her
          nipple which was visible even through her bra and blouse.
          Louise moaned, and incorporated that moan into her fantasy.
          Thus encouraged, Louise imagined him unbuttoning her blouse,
          and his hands closing on both her bra clad breasts at once.
          Louise was beginning to pant from the hotness of her fantasy
          and from the delicious feelings her hands were eliciting.

            In her imagination she kissed Andrew harder, and clutched
          at his broad back, causing him to lose control, and, with
          masculine impatience, to pull down her bra cups, freeing her
          breasts, but leaving her bra on, so that it kept them lifted
          high and thrusting. Her dream felt so real as she imagined
          his hands closing on her naked breasts. Then he broke their
          kiss, and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his
          mouth. Louise emulated this by wetting her fingers with
          saliva, and using them to caress her nipples.

            Louise could remember where she had first heard that men
          like to take a woman's nipple into their mouth and suck on it
          ... it was in a girly magazine that she'd discovered in her
          brother's bedroom ... unfortunately he'd turned up before she
          could study it much, she'd only had time to read one letter.
          He put a lock on his desk draw after that, and she never got
          another chance. Nipple sucking like a baby had struck her as
          silly initially, but she had slowly incorporated it into her
          beliefs of what "foreplay" must consist of.

            For a second time that evening, Louise was working herself
          into quite a state by the manipulation of her hard and
          sensitive nipples with her slick fingers. Louise's low moan
          of `uuuooohhh', was a sign that her right hand was now
          touching her clitoris. This was mirrored in her fantasy by
          Andrew having slid his hand up her leg, bunching her skirt as
          it went, and now rubbing her pussy through her panties.

            Whether our heroine would have gone further with her
          fantasy at this stage of her awakening and caused her phantom
          lover to touch her naked cunt, and whether she would have
          slid one of her own fingers into herself as she masturbated
          we will, unfortunately, never know, for she was so wet and
          excited that it took but the briefest of caresses of her
          throbbing clitoris to bring her to a most satisfying climax.
          The moaned `ooohhhh ... Aaaahhh' expressed her satisfaction
          most eloquently. She dropped off to sleep very soon
          afterwards.


                                Louise's Awakening  Pt2

          2. Temptation

            Nothing which would interest us happened to Louise over the
          following weekend. Indeed our heroine, demonstrating that she
          deserved the earlier accolade of being "sensible and sane",
          applied herself with diligence to her homework. While this is
          an unavoidable past-time for wise heroines of a tender age,
          describing it in detail would contribute little to our
          present, purulent, interest in her awakening sexual desires,
          and so will not be dwelt upon further.

            Actually we next join Louise on Tuesday, because, due some
          unaccountable and uninteresting quirk of fate, she'd failed
          to met her nemesis, Andrew, on Monday. Louise was seated at
          her desk surprisingly early on Tuesday morning, before Amy
          had arrived, and before the teacher was due. Andrew came up
          to her, sat on her desk again, and asked, `Hi gorgeous, been
          dreaming of me?' As might be imagined, this threw Louise into
          considerable inner confusion. Andrew was delighted to observe
          the embarrassed blush which this question brought to Louise's
          cheeks. He'd been expecting another cool brush-off from the
          ice-maiden herself, but instead ... this! His ego was such
          that he readily interpreted Louise's response as indicating
          that she had been dreaming of him!

            With surprising cunning, Andrew helped Louise out of her
          embarrassment, by ignoring her flush, and by changing the
          subject. Did she know that Mr Powell, the new science teacher
          had been seen at a night-club with Miss Jenkins, a geography
          teacher, and that everyone in Miss Jenkins' class reckoned
          that he was screwing her? Had he continued the old subject,
          he would have forced Louise to hide her confusion by
          rejecting him, but in this way, she overcame her confusion
          and remained in conversation with him. Now, Louise wasn't
          overly fond of gossiping, but the idea of the glamorous Miss
          Jenkins, whom all the boys drooled over, and the wimpish Mr
          Powell being together was too outrageous not to be
          fascinating news. Hence, she replied, `No! Really?', and
          Andrew proceeded to assure her that the intelligence was
          quite trustworthy, coming from Simon Young's brother, who'd
          seen them himself. Before Louise was really aware of it, she
          was in conversation with the unbearable Andrew Manchester,
          and quite enjoying it too!

            Louise was feeling rather tingly during the whole
          conversation. Here he was sitting on her desk, larger than
          life, and, in some undefined way, rather threatening. He was
          an autonomous person, not a dream phantom under her control,
          and she was very aware that he was all male. Different. Sexy.
          Louise's fantasy of him kissing her until she was too weak to
          stand had come back to haunt her with his first words, and
          while, with superhuman effort, she'd overcome it well enough
          to function something like an articulate human being, she
          hadn't overcome it to the extent that she was free from a
          constant sexual buzz. She was vibrantly aware of his strong
          arms and his sensual lips. When he simply asked her if she
          wanted to go out tonight without his usual macho-postering,
          Louise found herself saying `Yes' before she was aware.

            After eliciting this response Andrew went back to his own
          desk, leaving Louise pondering the wisdom of her reply. While
          they had been talking the class had been filling up, and most
          of the pupils were there now. Amy was nearly the last to come
          in, followed seconds later by the teacher, and the first
          lesson started before Louise could confide in her.

            From time to time, throughout the first lesson, Andrew
          turned to smile and wink at Louise. Each time she could feel
          colour rising to her cheeks, but was powerless to control her
          reaction. She felt a tingle of excitement that she simply
          couldn't analyse. Amy was amazed to detect the silent
          communications between her friend and someone she had always
          professed to detest. To Amy's quizzical look, Louise
          whispered that she'd explain later.

            Between lessons Amy demanded an explanation, but Louise was
          unable to articulate her feelings well enough to satisfy her
          friend ... she didn't really understand them herself so how
          could she! Amy remained incredulous at Louise's change of
          heart.

            Unlike many heroines, Louise didn't spend ages that evening
          searching through her wardrobe seeking something to wear. She
          knew exactly what she wanted to wear: her just above the knee
          skirt, with an "interesting" split at the back, and her
          orange spotted tight scoop necked t-shirt. This was just the
          image she wanted: sexy in an understated way. She didn't want
          Andrew to think she was throwing herself at him, and nor did
          she didn't want to look frumpy. Admiring the final product,
          Louise was happy that she had managed to walk that fine line.

            Louise slipped out, only telling her father that she was
          going to the youth club to meet Amy and Nicole. He'd asked
          whether it was wise given that it was a weekday night. She
          had breezily reassured him that she was up on her homework,
          and that she wouldn't be too late. Luckily it hadn't been her
          mother she'd met, for she would have subjected her too a more
          thorough cross-examination. Such subterfuge was necessary
          partly because it was a Tuesday night, and partly because she
          didn't want to face the inevitable questions about a
          "boyfriend", and even worse, the subsequent teasing that was
          bound to follow from her brother.

            Andrew was waiting for her on the street corner that they'd
          arranged to meet on, and they headed off to Joe's. Joe's was
          a cafe, a bit of dive really, but it was the favourite
          meeting place of many school children too young to gain entry
          into a pub. They ordered cokes, and found an alcove at the
          far end from the door, up against the wall. Andrew started to
          kiss Louise almost as soon as they'd seated themselves. His
          lips pressed closed on hers as he held her head. Louise was a
          bit put out initially; she had expected some friendly
          chatting first, a bit more romance, and a more secluded
          rendezvous. She was aware that any of her school friends
          might come in at any moment. Nevertheless, her day-dreams had
          been right in one respect: Andrew knew how to kiss. Before
          long, her frostiness melting, Louise found herself opening
          her lips slightly in encouragement to Andrew's probing
          tongue. Louise found it incredibly exciting as his strong
          tongue entered her mouth and sought her tongue. It made her
          feel weak and hot, both at the same time. They broke the kiss
          to gasp for air, and then continued with more excitement than
          before. Louise didn't care who saw her: this was
          intoxicating.

            Gaining in boldness, Louise tried chasing Andrew's tongue
          into his mouth with hers. It was exciting probing into his
          mouth. Louise reached around Andrew and held his back,
          holding him close to her. A loud `Ahem' brought Joe's
          crashing back around them. It was Nicole with a bloke in
          leathers. `Mind if we join you?', Nicole asked with a
          sparkle. `Of course not', Louise replied instinctively, her
          good-manners outwitting her selfish desires in a deft move. A
          blush tried to rise to her face, but she manfully fought it
          down. 'Nicole this is Andrew. Andrew: Nicole.' she said,
          making introductions. Nicole introduced her biker friend as
          `John, her new boyfriend.'

            Nicole was a bubbly brunette, one year older than Louise,
          but she was still a good friend of Louise's. Indeed, Nicole
          was a bit of a role model for Louise, she was very clever,
          having already secured a place at Cromwell Hall in a nearby
          University a year early. Nicole and John ordered cokes, and
          the four of them chatted together for a while as they sipped
          their drinks. Louise was particularly keen to find out more
          about John to see if  he was good enough for her friend.

            While they were chatting, under the table Andrew
          surreptitiously placed his hand on Louise's knee. Her
          surprised gasp came as she was sipping her drink, and Nicole
          and John simply assumed she'd choked on the bubbles. Andrew
          smiled sweetly back at her reproachful glance, and kept his
          hand on her knee. As they continued to chat, Andrew slowly
          slid his hand in spurts up Louise's thigh. Her agitation was
          dampened by the undoubted thrill that his strong hand was
          producing. It was delicious to feel his hand sliding up under
          her skirt ... actually it was rucking her skirt up as it
          rose. Louise could feel her excitement rising, and a flush
          rise to her face, and his strong fingers traced erotic
          patterns on her silken thigh. Apart from the trouble of
          keeping the conversation going, the main worry that she had
          was that she didn't know if Andrew knew when to stop.
          Conversation, however, was running smoothly. Somehow Andrew
          was able concentrate enough to talk about motor-bikes to John
          with no problem whatsoever. As Andrew's hand rose higher it
          was pushing her legs apart. Louise clenched her thighs
          together. There was no way that she was going to let him go
          any higher. Thwarted, his fingers marked time by moving in
          the most stimulating of patterns. Louise began to feel quite
          languid. When Andrew's hand moved up a bit more, Louise found
          that she was too weak to impede his process; she wanted to,
          but it felt too nice to stop.

            Nicole was talking when Andrew's hand moved to just below
          Louise's pussy. Louise's start went unnoticed, but with
          complete resolution, alarm bells going off all over her head,
          she took his hand and placed it lower down her leg. She was
          not going to allow any boy such liberties. No way! After a
          suitable interval it began its slow crawl upwards again.
          Louise was more aroused this time, and succumbed more quickly
          to the demanding caresses of Andrew's hand. He was running it
          up the insides of her thighs, touching both legs at the same
          time. This doubled the thrill, and at the same time,
          increased the tension: its objective was unmistakable. Louise
          clenched her legs again, but before long she had allowed her
          legs to be parted a second time, her passion overriding her
          better judgement. Not surprisingly Louise was having trouble
          following the conversation, which lead Nicole to ask
          solicitously, `Are you okay?'. `Fine thanks. Well actually,
          I'm a bit tired', Louise extemporised. `Boyfriends are so
          demanding aren't they? They can be quite exhausting!', Nicole
          quipped with a sparkle.

            Louise didn't fail to notice the silent exchange between
          John and Nicole when she said that, and she realised that
          there was definite double-entente behind the words. Could
          they be lovers? Louise didn't pursue this thought, as she was
          distracted by Andrew's fingers which were moving in intricate
          patterns on her inner thighs just an inch from her panties.
          It was very distracting! In fact, she found herself opening
          her legs wider to encourage him with easier access. She knew
          she ought to move his hand, but it was so nice, so tempting
          to leave it there just a few seconds longer.

            As Louise had secretly hoped, John and Nicole didn't stay
          long, they were off to a friend's party. Andrew made use of
          the of their standing up and leaving to advance that final
          inch. Louise's gasp was lost in the noise of chair legs on
          the wooden-floor and the background music. In spite of
          Louise's attempts to act naturally, both John and Nicole
          thought she looked a little strange as they left her: flushed
          and bright-eyed, as though she were sickening for something.
          Louise dared not make any obvious action to move his hand
          with her friend standing over her to say goodbye, and by the
          time that they had turned their backs, Andrew's fingers were
          well into tracing their erotic tattoos over her pantie clad
          pussy. Her instinctive clenching of her legs did nothing but
          trap his hand most deliciously against her. His fingers still
          found a little room to move with devastating effect. They
          were alone now, and Louise had the freedom to engage in the
          quiet moans and whimpers that her body was telling her it was
          so necessary to make, as though they were some safety-value
          which prevented a dangerous build-up of pleasure which would
          otherwise drive her insane. The moans didn't travel to any of
          the other booths, the juke-box music swallowed them up.

            The pleasure that was washing through her from these
          caresses was stronger than anything Louise had experienced
          before. Touching her own pussy was nothing compared with
          someone else touching her there. Louise was aware that she
          was very excited, she could feel herself getting wet, wet
          enough to soak through her panties. The reader may wish to
          reflect on Louise's chances of maintaining her intention to
          keep chaste given that it was shame at being so wet, rather
          than outrage at such liberties that drove her to remove
          Andrew's hand.

            Louise accused, with a half-hearted reproach in her voice,
          `You shouldn't have done that'. Andrew replied, `Why not? You
          liked it didn't you?'. Louise could feel herself blushing
          scarlet. `That's not the point, you just shouldn't have!',
          she rushed on, trying to hide her confusion. Louise was aware
          that her passion and embarrassment where combining to cloud
          her thinking, making her words sound inane even in her own
          ears. Her position was undoubtedly weakened by not being able
          to take the moral high ground after having let his fingers
          roam for so long.

            Andrew was aware that arguing was not going to achieve his
          aims, and so he said, `Let's not fight', as he reached out
          and stroked Louise's hair, and then lowered his lips to hers
          in a gentle kiss. Louise was aware that the subject had been
          changed before she had made him acknowledge her position, but
          the kiss was sweet, and she found it hard to stay indignant.
          Furthermore her pussy was still aroused, and this was acting
          as a strong imperative to override her better judgement, an
          imperative to forget the past and to enjoy the kiss. It was
          Louise who eventually deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue
          into Andrew's mouth.

            As they kissed, Andrew's hand closed upon Louise's breast
          that was hidden by their bodies from the view of the rest of
          Joe's. Louise couldn't withhold her moan which was swallowed
          by Andrew's kisses: the sensations were every bit as good as
          she'd imagined in her fantasy. It was this outworking of her
          fantasy that made her forget to object to this action. Under
          Andrew's caresses, her nipples erected, becoming efficient
          transducers converting pressure to pleasure. Louise could
          feel her clitoris throb at the rough handling of her breast.
          The throb throb throb beating out a rhythm that called out
          for Andrew's hand to return. The bells which recalled Dick
          Wittington couldn't have been half as eloquent.

            Louise broke their kiss and looked around nervously as
          Andrew untucked her t-shirt from the waist-band of her skirt,
          and slid an exploring hand up inside it. No-one was paying
          them any attention at all. There were only two other booths
          that could see into theirs, and in one was another couple
          kissing, and the other only had one person in it, and he had
          his back to them. Andrew's lips reclaimed hers as she moaned
          with the sensual thrill of his hand on her bare breast. She
          hadn't warn a bra this evening. His rough palm on her proud
          nipple sent pleasure racing around her body, eventually
          finding it home between her legs. Her panties were getting
          wetter.

            Louise couldn't ignore the call of her pussy, she had to
          touch it, she HAD TO! Surreptitiously, she slid her hand up
          her skirt to her sopping pussy. She didn't want Andrew to
          know what she was doing. Her moan as her fingers reached
          their goal was lost amongst her other whimpers forced out by
          his magic manipulation of her breast and nipple. There she
          was, sitting in public with a boy, allowing him to fondle her
          tits, while she covertly rubbed her pussy. Her rising passion
          was broadcast by the reddening of her face and neck. She was
          nearly there. Nearly.... she couldn't stop now if her parents
          themselves came and sat down with them. Just a second longer
          ... `Oooowwwall' was a real cry of despair. Andrew's hand had
          closed on hers, and had removed it, leaving her hips bucking
          upwards in a most unlady-like way. Seeking that necessary
          pressure that just wasn't there. Her hand was trapped in his,
          it couldn't return.

            `If I can't do that, I'm not sure that you should either',
          he said with a smile. Louise could have killed him at that
          second. Numerous oaths and curses sprang to her lips, but
          were never uttered. Instead she turned to pleading, abject
          grovelling. `Please' she whimpered, her hips still twitching.
          `Please what?', asked Andrew. `Please' she begged again,
          spreading her legs as far as she could in her the skirt.
          `Tell me!' he demanded, a cruel smile on his face.

            The was no internal battle. Louise was far too aroused to
          be concerned about things like propriety. `I need a touch',
          she whispered, her hips bucking again in emphasis. 'Where?',
          he asked, determined to make her ask explicitly. `On my
          clitty!' she gasped.

            `Only if you take your panties off first', Andrew
          negotiated, knowing that he held all the cards. Louise was
          prepared to do anything, anything ... but the danger of
          obeying this demand was sobering. She looked around, would
          anyone see her? One booth was empty now, but the couple in
          the other were still there, still kissing. They looked pretty
          tied up with each other ... Dare she risk it? What if they
          saw? They probably wouldn't. And it was a very sexy idea. The
          danger was an aphrodisiac, a drug. She would do it!

            `Don't look', she whispered, as she rucked her skirt up to
          hook her fingers into the waist-band of her panties. Glancing
          around, feeling very very naughty, she pulled her panties
          down, stepping out of them. Her bottom felt hot on the cool
          plastic of the bench seat. Her love juices were keeping her
          pussy awash: ready to provide the lubricant for any caresses
          that came its way. Andrew took the panties with their wet
          patch from her, and, looking her straight in the eye, raised
          them to his nose to smell. Louise didn't know whether to die
          of embarrassment at this invasion of privacy, or to die of
          fear, least someone should see her panties above the level of
          the table. However, it only stoked her burning fire of need
          to higher temperatures.

            Andrew had just pocketed them when Jack the owner came into
          view. (No-one knew why it was called Joe's, or who Joe was).
          `Are you kids going to order or what? If you aren't, clear
          off. I'm running a business here, not a youth club', he
          growled at them. Andrew had to go up to the counter to order
          two more cokes. Louise found herself drumming her feet on the
          floor in frustration as this unexpected delay. The wait was
          unbearable!

            When Andrew returned with the cokes, Louise couldn't
          believe it: he was with Julia Barrett and her boyfriend,
          James. James and Andrew were good friends, and Louise got on
          fairly well with Julia, although she was far from thrilled to
          see her just then. It was obvious that they were going to
          join them ... it was just not fair! She wanted ... no, she
          NEEDED ... to cum, and now! Louise was suddenly aware of her
          bare bottom, and her rucked up skirt. She was in a very
          compromised position. Fortunately, the table was hiding this
          from the others. Andrew caught her eye and grinned, enjoying
          her predicament.

            "Why don't you slid in there next to Louise", Andrew
          suggested to James, his eyes twinkling at Louise. She only
          just managed to flick her skirt down enough to hide the top
          of her thighs. Her eyes flashed resentment at Andrew. What
          did he think he was doing? James was squeezed in next to her,
          while Andrew and Julia sat opposite. Could she lift her
          bottom enough to enable her to work her skirt down properly
          without attracting James' attention? More urgently, could she
          touch her aching clitoris? Dare she come with others around?
          Could she hide it from them? No, she dare not risk it. She'd
          have to escape to the rest-room. But before she did that she
          had to rearrange her skirt.

            Then she felt it. It was Andrew's foot. He'd kicked off his
          shoe and was running it up her leg. He wouldn't! He couldn't!
          Louise could feel herself panicking, she knew he could and
          would, and worse, she knew that she'd let him. Any pressure
          was what her sex craved. As far as her body was concerned,
          all risk was irrelevant in the face of her need. Andrew
          maintained conversation with James while his foot moved up to
          Louise's knees, parted them, and started to slide up her
          thighs. Her body, ignoring all internal shrieks of protest,
          open her legs of its own accord, and she moved forward to the
          edge of the seat. Andrew stopped his advance inches from her
          sopping pussy. Louise moaned quietly. James asked her if she
          was alright. She managed to croak that she was fine. And then
          contact was made. How she kept from moaning Louise never
          knew. It took but a few wiggles of his toes and she was
          coming. She wanted to pant and scream and cry-out and buck
          and ... Yet, instead, she sat there silently and went bright
          pink! She gasped for breath as the last earthquake rippled
          through her body, she hadn't realised that she had stopped
          breathing. James and Andrew were still talking, James had
          noticed nothing. Julia however was looking at her rather
          quizzically. Louise avoided her gaze.

            Louise was overcome with embarrassment. She had to get
          away. Yanking her skirt down and standing, she made her
          apologies, saying she didn't feel very well and had to go
          home, she picked up her coat, and fled Joe's, not waiting for
          Andrew to escort her. She tried to compose herself as she
          walked home. She tried to evaluate all that had happened that
          day, but it was all too much. As she walked, she was aware of
          the cool night air moving around her still wet pussy and
          naked bottom. How could she have behaved so slutishly ... and
          recklessly! She didn't even like Andrew Manchester! How could
          she have let him touch her like that? She groaned when she
          remembered that he still had her panties, her wet panties.
          Would he ever let her live it down? What about Julia? How
          much had she guessed?

            When she got home, Louise went straight to her room,
          stopping only to exchange the bare minimum of pleasantries
          with her parents, who were still up, watching a late film.
          Once in her room, Louise couldn't face more analysis, she
          went straight to bed. She didn't even remove the small amount
          of make-up she had on. So what of she got spots! At least
          then boys wouldn't bother her. She went straight to sleep,
          her body and mind glad of the opportunity to shut down.



          3. Another Test

            Louise was very tempted the next day not to go to school,
          to pretend to be sick instead. She dreaded that the story of
          her behaviour would be all over the school, that everyone in
          her class would know, that Amy would know, that Andrew would
          have passed her panties around. She dreaded being very
          embarrassed. She dreaded getting a "reputation", a reputation
          for being easy, a "slut". She felt sick to her stomach. It
          would require very little acting to convince her parents that
          she was too ill to go to school today. Memories of last night
          lay like a lead weight on her heart.

            She didn't understand why she had acted so. She had been
          sexually excited. Was that an excuse? Was it a reason?
          Whatever it was, she knew she had to be more careful in
          future. This blossoming sexuality was very powerful stuff. It
          could blow your life apart. She scolded herself for being
          melodramatic. She had no time for teenage angst. Her life
          wasn't ruined. But it could get very embarrassing for awhile.
          She wondered if all the nice boys, the ones she wouldn't mind
          meeting, would keep clear from her if she got a "reputation"?
          Would she attract even more jerks with their "wanna-fucks"?
          What did she care about boys anyway? She had plenty of time;
          time to find someone nice when she went to University.

            Eventually Louise determined that she would go to school.
          She felt she needed to for herself. She needed to face her
          fears, face the worst. Nevertheless it was with trepidation
          that she entered the classroom. Amazingly, no one turned
          around to look at her, except, of course, Amy who welcomed
          her with a smile. Perhaps Andrew hadn't told? Perhaps Julia
          didn't guess? It seemed too marvellous to believe: she'd been
          convinced that everyone would know that she'd let
          Andrew-Manchester-masturbate-her-with-his-foot-in-a-public-place.
          Even in her thoughts, she skimmed over the memory.
          Fortunately, she didn't have to face Andrew yet, he was in
          different classes from her that morning: he wasn't as good at
          mathematics and science as she was.

            She passed Julia in a corridor while changing classes: they
          had both flushed and had not known what to say. Julia,
          seeking small-talk to cover their embarrassment, asked, `Did
          you have a good time last night?' When she realised what she
          had asked, she blushed even redder than Louise, and escaped
          to her class, muttering, `Sorry'. Louise was almost more
          embarrassed for her friend than for herself. Julia had
          obviously realised that she had climaxed. Did she know what
          Andrew had been doing? Probably. Still it wasn't so bad:
          Julia was unlikely to tell anyone, she was too embarrassed to
          even think about it. Actually, that probably wasn't true,
          Louise realised. Julia had probably done nothing else but
          think about it last night, as she had rubbed her wet pussy in
          the privacy of her own room. At least she would have, if she
          was anything like Louise. Louise realised that if she knew
          that any of her friends had been driven by uncontrollable
          sexual desires into a very public climax it would send her
          into the most amazing masturbation fantasies. Just thinking
          about it hypothetically was enough to get the blood flowing
          to her pussy lips and to get her clitoris to twitch. Louise
          was getting aroused. Should she just forget it and go to her
          next class, or did she have time to go to a rest-room?

            She was rarely late for class. Just this once wouldn't
          matter. Anyway, after last night she was sick of unfulfilled
          excitement. She darted down a side corridor, and entered the
          girls'-room. She entered a stall, lowered the seat, and,
          hitching up her skirt, sat on it. She didn't mess about, she
          paced her hand directly over her cunt: her panties were
          already slightly wet. Her decision to divert here had quickly
          got her more excited. Even through her panties her touch felt
          wonderful; she moaned slightly. Lifting her bottom, she
          quickly removed her panties. She used two fingers to part her
          labia, while she slowly slid a third into her vagina. It was
          wet enough for her finger to slide in easily. She panted. It
          felt so good. So much like it must for a boy's cock to enter.
          She positioned her finger so that it passed through the
          rather tight hole in her hymen. It sank all the way in. She
          pulled it half out; it was slick with her juices, her love
          cream. She pushed it in, harder this time. Her knuckles
          brushed her clitoris. She moaned. It was so lewd. So sexy. So
          nice. So very nice. She pumped a few more times.

            Suddenly Louise froze. Two girls had just entered the
          rest-room. They were giggling. They must be skipping class.
          She immediately realised that she hadn't locked her cubicle.
          She hoped neither of them would try her door. They didn't.
          Louise couldn't work it out: it sounded as if they were both
          in the next cubical to hers. There was more giggling. One
          hushed the other, `Shhhh, someone might hear'. The other
          replied, `The room is empty, and everyone is in class. Here,
          look at that.'

            Louise couldn't begin to guess what this last command
          referred to. She longed to see too. There was some rummaging,
          the noise of pages being turned. There was the occasional
          gasp, and `look at that!'. Louise wondered if it was a
          pornographic magazine that they were looking at. The idea
          that it was, made her pussy juice cream around her finger.
          Being careful not to make any noise, she slowly slid her
          finger in and out; making sure she rubbed her clitoris on
          each inward probe. One of the girls gasped, `Doesn't that
          make you excited?'. The other replied in a breathless voice,
          `Yesss'. `Does it make your clitty throb, and your pussy all
          wet, just like her's in the picture?', the first girl asked
          again. Her friend only murmured an affirmative, passion
          beginning to make her pant. Louise was getting more and more
          horny. It sounded like these girls were really getting
          excited by these pictures! There was a sigh of pleasure from
          the next cubical, a satisfied `mmmmmm'. The first girl was
          saying, `Yes, rub your pussy, put your hand in your panties,
          flick your clitty. Just like I'm doing'. The second girl
          moaned again, and said, `Mmmm, it feels good'.

            Louise had managed to squeeze two fingers into her virgin
          cunt, she was so wet. She was pushing them in and out like
          mad. It was so exciting hearing these two right next to her.
          If only she could see them! It was too risky to look over the
          partition, but her imagination was filling in all the details
          anyway. They were gasping and moaning next to her.
          Approaching climax fast if their whimpers were anything to go
          by. `Oh, I coming, I'm coming .... Oohhh ahhh', cried the
          second girl, followed immediately afterwards by her friend,
          `Me too, Oohhh, Aaaahhh'. Their cries were very exciting.

            Louise's hand brushed her clitoris just as the last of
          their sighs died away. The excitement and her caresses were
          too much: she whimpered and gasped in climax. There was no
          way she could be quiet. Next door, there were hurried
          whispers of `Quick there is someone here' and `Lets go'. The
          door of their stall crashed opened, and they sped off. Louise
          hadn't recognised their voices, and she never got to see
          them, but her mystery colleagues in masturbation had
          certainly helped her to rich a very good climax.

            Louise was alone again. She still felt horny. She continued
          to squeeze and flick her throbbing clitoris. She could come
          again. On impulse, without even pulling on her panties she
          looked into next stall. There on the toilet set was the
          magazine. Curiosity having mastered her, Louise picked up the
          magazine, and returned to her cubical. She was careful to
          lock the door this time. She rubbed her clitoris as she
          looked through the magazine. It was much more explicit than
          the one she'd seen in Michael's room. There were pictures of
          models with their pussy lips held open, their glistening
          pussies exposed to the camera. In a few there were some men
          with their erections disappearing into the mouths of the
          models. The actual point of penetration was blocked out by a
          censor's black circle, but it hid so little it might as well
          not be there. Once Louise had worked out was was being
          depicted, she was shocked, disgusted, intrigued, and aroused,
          all at once. Her cunt twitched, it had no doubt that the
          images were sexy. An erect penis was so big! So lewd! So ....
          sexy! But would a woman want to take a man's cock into her
          mouth? Wasn't it unnatural, or dirty, or ...? Actually,
          Louise recognised the looks of lust on the models' faces:
          they were enjoying it too. Louise found the whole idea a big
          turn on, as she frigged her pussy rapidly. She was quickly
          building to another big climax. She whimpered and came,
          bucking her pussy up against her fingers.

            When she had finished, she had to decide what to do with
          the magazine. She wanted to study it more. She wanted to take
          it home and look at it in comfort in her own room. But what if
          her parents found it? What if a friend saw it in her bag
          before she had got it home. Suppose some boys started
          throwing her bag around, as had happened once, and it fell
          out. She would die of embarrassment. Reluctantly, she
          concluded that she ought to leave it there.

            After freshening up, Louise arrived late for her class,
          explaining to her teacher that she had had an upset stomach.
          All through the lesson she had trouble concentrating, she
          kept on thinking about the magazine and the pictures she had
          seen. There had been one picture which showed a woman was on
          her knees taking a man's cock in her mouth, while she was
          reaching back between her legs and rubbing her pussy. For
          some reason Louise found this picture especially exciting,
          perhaps it was the look of concentration on the man's face,
          as though he was about to climax at any second, or perhaps it
          was that the woman had been so hot licking the penis that she
          hadn't been able to prevent masturbating before the man and
          the camera. What ever the reason, the image was very
          powerful, and Louise could feel herself getting wet again.
          She kept on thinking about the pictures all through the rest
          of the class. By the end, she had made up her mind, she was
          going to get the magazine. As soon as the bell went she was
          off to the rest-room. It was where she had left it. Feeling
          very guilty, she placed it in the bottom of her bag, and
          hoped no-one would find it.

            At lunch time Louise met Andrew. She had been dreading this
          moment, unsure of how he was going to act, or what she was
          going to say. Would he make crass or lewd comments? Would he
          be angry at her leaving him like that? How could she face
          him, knowing he still had a pair of her panties. How was she
          supposed to act? In the event, it was a lot less awful than
          she had feared. He had smiled when he saw her, and had come
          over and said that he hoped she got home alright last night.
          She had smiled in return, and said that she had got home
          without any trouble, thank you. A few moments of awkwardness
          had followed, but Andrew had ended it by saying, `See you
          around' and walking off. His obvious shyness and awkwardness
          warmed Louise to him; maybe he wasn't the macho-jerk that
          she'd always thought that he was.

            Louise ate her lunch with Amy, who wanted to know `all
          about last night'. Louise told her that she had gone to Joe's
          with Andrew, that they had kissed a bit, had a few cokes, and
          had talked to a few friends, including Nicole and her
          boyfriend, John, and Julia and James. `Well?', Amy had asked.
          `Well what?', asked Louise, genuinely confused. `What was it
          like to kiss Andrew?', demanded Amy, exasperated that her
          friend was so dense.

            `Oh ... It was alright. Actually, it was very good. He
          really knows how to kiss'.

            `Yes?'

            `Yes! His kisses leave you feeling all weak and dreamy'.

            `Sounds nice. Was he romantic?'

            Louise coloured slightly at the question, but answered
          honestly, `No. All he was interested in was kissing'. Amy
          gave her a look as if to say, how could you enjoy kissing him
          if he didn't take any interest in you. Louise replied, `I
          know, I always said I was only going to kiss someone I loved
          ... You needn't look at me like that! It was just different,
          okay? He kind of made me feel all sexy and hot, and all I
          cared about was kissing.' Amy laughed, `So "weak and dreamy"
          was actually "sexy and hot" was it!'

            Louise smiled, `If you'd been kissed like that, you'd know
          exactly how I felt. He was so good, I didn't know which way
          was up!' `Wow, he must be some kisser!', was Amy's comment.
          `Tell me about it in more detail'. Just then the bell
          signifying the end of lunch rang. Louise said, `Come over to
          my house tonight, and I'll tell you all about it. Must dash,
          see you later.' With that, they parted and went to their
          respective classes.

            That evening Louise was itching to escape from the family
          meal table, and retire to her room to study her magazine. The
          meal seemed to drag on unbearably. Nevertheless it ended
          eventually, and she was able to retire to her room. She
          wondered whether she should put something up against the door
          to give her some warning if someone tried to enter, but
          realised that with her brother being around a friend's house,
          any disturbances were very unlikely. Her parents rarely
          bothered her when she was in her room, they just were happy
          that she was in and, supposedly, doing her homework.

            With trembling fingers she opened her school bag, and
          hunted through it for the magazine. It was gone! No it wasn't
          ... there it was at the bottom where she had put it. Shaking
          with excitement and guilt she sat on her bed, and opened the
          magazine. The first picture was of a young woman in a
          bedroom, she was dressed in pink pyjamas, there was a
          teddy-bear on her bed. Her blonde hair was in a pony-tail.
          Underneath it on the same page was a picture showing girl
          with dark hair entering the room, she was dressed in a very
          short night-dress, and apparently she crying, which according
          to the caption was because of the thunder storm. A picture on
          the next page showed the two of them embracing, the buttons
          of the blonde's pyjamas top had for some reason started to
          become undone. The fourth picture showed them kissing, their
          tongues touching each other's, the hand of the dark girl was
          clutching one of the blonde girl's breasts, her other breast
          was exposed, its pink nipple was erect.

            Louise stared at the four pictures in fascination. She was
          surprised and astonished to see two girls behaving like that.
          Touching each other! The sight of the erect nipple was very
          erotic. Louise turned the page, she was shaking even more
          than before. On the next page was a picture of the blonde's
          PJ top discarded, lying over her teddy-bear, while the dark
          girl's mouth closed on one of her nipples. The next picture
          was a close-up of her pink tongue licking that hard nipple.
          The third picture was a full page one, and showed that the
          dark girl had turned around, and the blonde was pulling her
          night-dress over her head. Her dark pussy had just come into
          view.

            Louise took in all three pictures at once, and then studied
          each in turn. It was unbelievable. It was exciting. It was
          wicked. It was arousing. Louise could feel herself getting
          wet. She started massaging one of her breasts through her
          school blouse. Unsatisfied, she popped open a few buttons,
          and slid her hand inside her blouse. She could feel her erect
          nipple thrusting into her bra. Slipping the strap off her
          shoulder inside her blouse, she lowered the bra-cup and held
          her naked breast.

            With her other hand she turned the next page: the first
          photograph showed the dark girl naked, while the blonde held
          her breasts from behind, the prominent nipples being pinched
          between her fingers. The dark girl had turned her head, and
          they were kissing. The second picture showed the dark girl
          kissing the blonde's hip, as her PJ bottoms were being pushed
          to her feet. The blonde's pussy hair was rather sparse, a
          little like her own, Louise noted. Louise lay the magazine on
          the bed, and lay down beside it on her side, seeking a more
          comfortable position. She was still shocked by what she was
          seeing, but it was very exciting too. She pinched her nipple,
          the resulting wave of pleasure making her gasp softly. The
          third picture was very lewd. The blonde was standing with one
          leg raised, her foot on the bed. she was holding opened her
          labia, showing her glistening pussy. The dark girl was
          kneeling at her feet cupping her own breasts, and she was
          bringing her mouth towards the blonde's pussy ...  her tongue
          was out ready to lick! Louise was shocked to her core!!
          Maybe, just maybe, a girl would want to take a man's penis
          into their mouth, but surely no-one would want to lick a
          girl's pussy! It was dirty, totally disgusting! Nevertheless
          Louise was getting very very excited. She could feel that her
          panties were wet. She reached a hand up her school skirt to
          find out how wet. She gasped at what she found. They were
          sopping! Louise liked the feel of her hand on her pussy, even
          over her panties, and couldn't help rubbing it a bit. She
          closed her eyes and rubbed, her clitoris basking in all the
          attention. She opened her eyes and looked at the lewd picture
          as she masturbated. The blonde's pussy was so wet. So
          enticing. I wonder what it would taste like ...?

            Louise was embarrassed to catch herself thinking such
          thoughts, and so with a hand smeared with love-juice she
          turned the page of the magazine. The first picture showed the
          two girl's lying next to each other, each had their mouths on
          the other's pussy. It was the blonde girl's mouth which was
          nearest the camera, and the picture should have shown her
          tongue probing between the dark girl's labia, only instead
          there was the censor's intrusive little black circle. Louise
          felt irritated at the senseless interference, nevertheless
          the picture was still very arousing. The second picture
          showed both girl's looking up towards the door, where a man
          in a business-suit stood, looking surprised. The last picture
          showed the man seated on the bed, with the naked blonde girl
          over his knee with his hand raised to smack her bottom, which
          was already reddened. The dark girl was kneeling on the bed,
          hugging the teddy-bear to her. The caption said, "It's your
          turn next, lesbian slut!"

            Louise sent her hand back to its task of rubbing her pussy.
          The images were extremely exciting. She abhorred the
          despising tone of the last caption, but that could not wipe
          out the sexiness of the image. Girl's licking each other ...
          only to be discovered ... and then smacked! Louise could
          identify with the worry of being discovered. As she pulled
          her panties to one side, and slide a finger into her vagina
          she was very aware that anyone could walk through her door at
          any second. She could never stop what she was doing and hide
          the magazine before the door opened. Furthermore, the idea of
          the shame and the indignanty of being put over a man's knee
          was, for some reason, a very powerful image for Louise.
          Louise knew that her climax was not far away. She was panting
          slightly. Suddenly she froze. Her mother's voice was calling.
          What was she saying? `Louise, Amy is here for you'. Louise
          could hear the sound of Amy walking up the stairs to her
          room. She groaned quietly, her orgasm was going to have to be
          postponed again!

            Louise straightened her clothes, and slid the magazine
          under her bed. The only thing she couldn't do anything about
          in time was her pussy-juices on her hand. Need being the
          mother of experimentation, Louise was sucking her fingers as
          she opened the door for Amy. Amy gave her a sweet smiled as
          she entered. Louise returned the smile in spite of being
          distracted by her own taste: she rather liked it!

            Louise was a bit concerned that Amy would smell her
          wantonness, but she gave no indication that she did. Louise
          could feel her sexual buzz slowly die away, sometimes only
          being reminded of it by her wet panties when she moved.
          Eventually, Amy turned her questions back to their earlier
          conversation, and she wanted to know all about Andrew's
          kisses, and their date. Louise was not in the habit of
          keeping things from Amy, for after all she was her best
          friend, and so, in spite of the embarrassment, she started to
          tell about her date. No doubt her current sexual frustration
          helped contribute to her decision to tell about her
          frustration of the night before. Frustration demanding the
          discussion of sex if it couldn't get the real thing! Louise
          told Amy about Andrew sliding his hand up her skirt while
          Nicole was there. Amy had squealed, goggle-eyed, on hearing
          this, and had asked how she had managed. Didn't she want to
          just slap his face! Louise tried to explain that his fingers
          were kind of magical, and had made her feel all weak, and so
          she had let him touch her pussy over her panties. Amy had
          been shocked to hear this ... and excited. She had demanded
          to know how it had felt, and what had happened next. Louise
          tried her best to describe it, and eventually said, why don't
          you touch yourself to get some idea of what it felt like! Amy
          was too embarrassed to do that, but it was clear to Louise
          that she wanted to. Amy got more and more agitated as she
          heard about how he had touched her naked breast inside her
          t-shirt. Even Amy's `Louise, how could you!' was less of a
          reproach, and more of an encouragement to continue the story.
          When she heard about Andrew asking her remove her panties,
          she cried, `You didn't!'. Amy was unaware that in her
          excitement she was caressing her inner thighs near to the
          crease of her shorts. Louise was getting excited again
          herself, remembering last night and watching her friend. She
          assured Amy that she had, after looking around to check no
          one could see. Amy surreptitiously rubbed her own pussy once
          or twice as when she heard about nearly being caught by Jack
          and about Julia and James joining them. The rubs became more
          frequent as she heard about Louise's climax on Andrew's toes.

            Louise was excited to see her friend so aroused. Sensing
          that this was a good time, she retrieved the magazine from
          under her bed and showed it to Amy. Amy couldn't believe it!
          She had never dreamed of such pictures, of such perversions!
          This didn't stop her rubbing. Louise wanted to masturbate as
          well, and so suggested that they make themselves comfortable.
          Amy agreed, and looking at the magazine, they undressed
          themselves. Louise was amazed at how beautiful her friend was
          ... she found herself wanting to reach out and touch Amy's
          small breasts ... but she didn't dare. They both rubbed their
          own pussies as they turned page after page. Amy came first,
          gasping and shuddering as she looked at a picture of a man
          fucking a woman, his thick cock almost completely sunk into
          her pussy. The censor's circle was invisible to their
          imaginations. Louise came a minute later, while looking at a
          picture of a woman looking up at a man with the most
          suggestive look that Louise had ever seen while sucking on
          his cock. Louise didn't feel any embarrassment in climaxing
          before her friend. It was an extra good one, having been
          delayed from earlier.

            Nevertheless, there was a subtle change in their friendship
          as they got dressed afterwards. They had shared sexual
          experiences to a level that they never had before. As Amy
          left, borrowing the magazine to show her sister, Louise
          reflected that their friendship was changed in a slightly
          different way as well: she had never realised before how
          attractive and sexy Amy was.


          4. The Choice

--


Back

See All Our Feature Hardcore Sites!
Fetish Club, 1 Asian Porn, Fetish Cinema , XRated TV , V Girl, Massive Hardcore