This is a piece of erotic fiction. Its content is intended for an adult audience. It is not meant for people below the age of 18. Read this only if you’re of a mature age. – Andy
Dave sat with his back against a locker, reading his paperback. A heavy reader and a fantasy fan, he always carried one, both for pleasure and for waits like this one. The fiction fought for his attention over his own thoughts of Aliasa. She had cheerleading practice every Tuesday after school and it was her he was waiting for. And this Tuesday might be special.
And here she comes: lithesome, streamlined legs disappearing under a flimsy skirt halfway up her hips, a well-fitting t-shirt, wet hair free (from a recent shower), shoulder-length, curling at its ends- a sight that made him squirm. Needless to say, the paperback was forgotten in the advance of a very real, very beautiful young woman.
She walked with a characteristic bounce in her step that would add a resulting bounce on her chest, at which Dave’s adolescent eyes could not resist, and hair-locks swinging. Not that they (her breast, that is) were overtly large, simply publicly prominent; and were partly responsible for making his private coverts prominently large (you must forgive the author for this play on words, I simply couldn’t resist *wink*).
“How was practice?” He asks as she approaches him. She had an affect on him, uncomfortable but wonderful, almost intoxicating– and he didn’t trust it. It was too much like how he felt with his first girl and frankly fucking freaky, after so many cunts. She stopped at her locker, adjacent to one he was lying against, and settled on the balls of feet.
“Enjoying the book?” She asked. She shared Dave’s love of fantasy novels.
“Brooks is good, Lackey is better.” But that was as far their interest overlapped. Even within the genre they disagreed on most topics, albeit in degrees. It provided unending conversation material that would keep them up for hours, arguing. Right now though, his attention was once again distracted at the view she proffered, standing in front of him. It took all his willpower to maintain eye contact and not sneak a peek under her skirt. Were they pink? White? Plaid?
It was after school, leaving the halls deserted. A perfect time for some healthy intimacy with the present girl in my life. They hadn’t gone all the way as yet, but then they’d been going out for only a few weeks now. He put his book aside and getting down on one knee, placed a hand on her ankle, his fingers feeling smooth skin interrupted by sandal straps. He then brought his hands to smoothly caress her calves. After passing a roguish grin, he lightly nestled his face on her crotch, shifting her face from left to right. But he didn’t stay there for long. He brought his face onto her knees and licked them mischievously. This being the appropriate time, he placed a hand on her left thigh. His hand rose up under her skirt and fingers skirted the hem of panties (white, he discovered sneaking peek upwards) at her ass.
Not long after this teasing she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up. Pushed him against the locker and brought her body and lips against his. With his back to the wall and this brunette beauty in his arms, they were voraciously necking. Her arms on his neck, he held her supple waist as she held out her swan neck back for his attentions. She had a slim adolescent body, with small breast still not in bloom, but quite a handful, as far as Dave could tell.
By now he had quite an erection in his pants and decided, with her response in mind, that it was time. Now only to get her attention! He brought his hands down and under her skirt to hold her buttocks through the thin material of her panties. With a squeeze on each of her buns he pulled her tightly to him. If she had any doubt, they were dispelled at the moment, feeling his hardness across the fabric of his trousers. She broke away from their kiss and looked at him. Her countenance shadowed indecision, but his eyes pleaded. Then she chewed her lip and nodded once.
That was all Dave needed. But where would ensure them their privacy? Not the classrooms– the custodian might make his rounds. The boys’ room, just across the hall! Not the most romantic place, but intriguing. He grabbed her hand and quickly led her there. A sound escaped her, as he pushed the heavy door with the stenciled man, but she shut her mouth to any protest.
Fortunately, the toilets were clean to clinical standards, and smelled of detergents, slightly citric. A decidedly pleasant smell. Thought Aliasa, but it might begin to get irritating after awhile. The toilet was a temple of this time: glass and metal, ceramic and tile, plastic and synthetic chemicals of smells and soaps. Conceivably, it was even romantic, if you forget its purpose. Or even if you do: a temple to bodily function.
Exactly like the girls’, thought Aliasa, huge mirrors reflecting their images. Save for the urinals. They felt odd to her, built for the male anatomy, like her? Who was that artist who assembled a urinal, or was it a commode, in a museum, labeling it art? I guess it was art, Aliasa supposed, a pale imitation of life. She too was a receptacle, but their act would be more human than just a natural, more divine. Even to this temple. Especially to this temple.
Dave pulled her close to him, then paused to consider the stalls. Then picking one, apparently at random, holding her waist, pushed her into one, following behind. Once inside, he closed the door with his foot. Aliasa placed her hands over his which was her waist. Whereupon, slipping a thumb in the top her skirt pulls it down along with her panties, watching it expose those round curves, before it falls to the floor. Then he got around her, to watch her remove her top. He placed her hands on the edge of her t-shirt and motioned for her remove it. She proceeded with a smile; slowly raising the shirt to expose her belly and navel, and then bra, at which point she pulled the shirt to cover her face. All the while his hands were travelling on her stomach. Dave stared at those lace covered bosom, proffered with those arms raised entangled in her shirt. When the shirt came off, he held her hand up and kissed at an armpit, and then at the shoulder, then nearer to her breast.
She brought her hands down and under his untucked shirt and undid his belt. Dave’s hand went to her back and to thin strip of cloth that held those screens to her breast. Aliasa slowly stroked his bulge and then went for the button, slipping the zipper down. Dave struggled with the clasp. When he finally got it open she had pulled down his own trouser to his hips. She tugged down his briefs releasing his penis as her own bra fell off her landing on his erect tool, balanced between the two cups. She giggled at the sight. Dave chuckled, but his eyes were fixed on her breast, handful with nipples that poked upwards. He was enrapt. He was about reach for them when Aliasa went to help him remove his trousers. Bending to remove his shoes, she studied him. Decent sized, but well-hung, and the width!
It was his moment at last: Aliasa stood nude before him, her perfect petit body aglow with youthful pride. And himself finally divested of his trousers and jocks. His erect member extended insolently under the edge of the shirt. Aliasa found the sight extremely exciting: his penis jutting out of the curtained folds of his shirt after his last button like those old bulky camera with lens jutting out under the covering over the frames.
But now what? In such close-quarters (the stall was barely 6 feet across) the most obvious course was a sitting position, with her on top! That would give her complete control. No way to accomplish their inaugural fuck. He needed to show what he could do. His ego aside, he would prefer they started off on more equal footing. He also preferred it sometime really soon!
He moved near her and began his oral assault on her shoulders up, endeavouring to chaotically cover that entirely, his tongue slipping in and out of his mouth as he licked and nibbed. His hands started of her waist, but one wondered towards her back and the other over one pert breast squeezing and pinching. The hand on her back slipped down to hold one buttock and pulled her closer, until his dickhead nuzzled her belly. Aliasa right hand strayed below and found his balls: oval rocks suspended in a soft tender sac of skin with fuzzy hair that ticked her palms.
“I’m ready,” Aliasa informed him.
“Not on the seat,” he entreated.
“Standing?” she inquired. “I have something in mind.”
She gripped his penis behind his dickhead, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out one of his condoms. His organ became livelier, quivering in anticipation. She had to restrain a shudder down her legs. Catching the edge of the casing of the condom in her mouth, ripped it open with her teeth. Study his response: another to note. She thought, An oral fixation, as well, judging from his spunky’s spring.
Caressing his penis with light fingers, she brought down the condom to sheathe him, slowly pulling back the latex to envelop him, protect her. Here goes. She gripped his penis for balance and brought the sole of her right foot onto her knee. Then slowly extended her leg out, a classic ballet stance. Put it to some good use, all that training.
She was already building a detailed and exclusive mental portfolio of him. Turned on with experimental positions, she added, taking note of another distinguished throb in his manhood… Either that or he really needed it. But his tortured whimper suggested the earlier. He laid his hand on underside of her extended thigh; so lightly, as though she’d might break like glass or dissipate like a cloud. Only when he a reassured she was flesh did he begin his slow rough strokes, betraying his passion he kept so well leashed so long. Or rather being truthful to it.
His strokes were augmented with strong grasps. He completely avoided her pubis. She found this odd. I hope he doesn’t have any inhibition with that area, she thought concerned. I so much like the feeling of being touched there. Not that it mattered now: she was wet and ready for him without needing a helping hand, so to speak. She murmured his name over and over, bewitchingly encouraging with words. Then she felt him near the periphery of the strip of her groomed pubic hair, almost cautiously. He proceeded to her slit, drawing his fingers up, then parting her lips to allow more access to her clitoris, touched them delicately, bringing a sigh from Alisa lips.
He slipped a finger through the vaginal tract, finding her hot and wet. Crouching, he lowered his dickhead preparing to penetrate her. Alisa immediately brought her leg down, to open herself further. She held on to one shoulder for support and brought her other hand to guide him into her channel. Laying her hand on his tool, she cooed euphoniously, stilling him. Withdrawing his finger, he laid his hand over hers.
Then they began, together the brought themselves to execute the coupling: bending her knees and Dave rose to meet her, his penis ascending to her open flesh. Ever so slowly, until half of his tool was swallowed in her warm tight channel. The penetration bought Aliasa a strange satisfaction, a contentment– and an increased desire to be fulfilled. Likewise, being enveloped by Aliasa, brought Dave a snug gratification: he felt so complete and extremely randy.
Holding still for a moment, like two dancers waiting for a band to strike; then they set off, to the silent music, a music ingrained in their genes– the rhythm to their love-making. Dave set a slow tempo, deep strokes, unfailingly grazing her clitoris in each pass, earning gasps and moans. The tightness and the friction on his tool solicited groans punctuated with breath for air.
She then raised her leg again, extended to an amazing 80 degrees and then dropping, so that her sole rested against the wall. Her body resembled the hands of a clock, fixed by Dave’s center. This reduced her own movements, but allowed her to control the level of penetration. The sudden increase in pressure threatened to make him cum. He paused, demanding control from his body: closing his eyes, thinking he was elsewhere to stave of the loss control that would result in him shooting his load.
When he brought himself to a more tolerable level– but somewhere not too far from that threshold– Dave increased his pace. Uncertain how much of this he could take, he worked harder to please her. He shifted his hand supporting her from her waist to her buttocks, massaging a cheek and teasing her anus with his fingers. The other hand holding her raised leg moved on to a breast, squeezing and fondling, dexterous fingers drawing circles around her aureoles and then timidly pinched her hard nipples.
He picked up cues telling him it was working: drawn out throaty sounds and spasms of contractions. But not enough, he weighed. He (reluctantly) removed his hands from her breast, and roamed downward: tickling her belly and fingering her navel and then brought down to her pubic. Finding her clitoris, pressed it harder against his thrashing sheathed penis. And to add a twirl to this cocktail, he thought wryly. He raised his right knee and planted his foot on the toilet seat. The change of the angle surprised Aliasa, and earned him a respectful smile… and extra-long clutch on his tool.
She rested her left hand on the knee and which allowed her more freedom to move, which she took full advantage, arching against him. Not long after, Dave was excruciating close to an orgasm, Aliasa not far off. Dave dreaded leaving her unsatisfied. His mind ran wild, desperate for something bold, knowing full well that he couldn’t hold out for long.
He brought the hand on her crotch onto her buttock under his leg and the other behind her back. Then it came, or rather he came, breaking through his threshold of control spurting semen into the latex casing. The corresponding thrust brought on her orgasm. And now the finale, he thought readying himself. He put the leg that was on the toilet seat between her own, then pulled it back to trip her, pushing her leg over his shoulder with the hand. Catching her fall, he sat down on the seat bringing her down on him with his hand to support her back. The rush of the fall coupled with the leg on his shoulder drove his penis so far into her, grinding her cervix, brought her to a tremendous orgasm, her thrashing challenging an epileptic fit. He could barely contain her, giddy with his own climax.
Their movements subsided, and Aliasa had her feet planted on to the ground. She slowly eased out his penis from her, then quickly rolled out the condom off his softening tool and deposited it some toilet paper she had pulled out, before throwing it away. He pulled at the roll of tissue paper and wiped her clean. She sat on his lap.
“Don’t Dave, we aren’t done.”
” I hoped not”
“What was that you…?”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I’m no virgin, but I’ll be sore for a while.”
“You shouldn’t make any references that you’ve been with another man.”
“Oh? but you are the biggest cock I’ve had.” She lied, wrapping her hand around his neck. “So you aren’t completely ignorant of the etiquette.”
“Yes, and I do believe that a woman must come at least twice.” She moved her lips on to his and they kissed passionately, her breast rubbing against him. His hands roam her torso. Breaking apart, Dave ducked his had to suck on his nipples, but she pushed his head away. Instead, her fingers went to work on the button of the shirt he had on, admiring his shoulders and pectorals. Brushing away his penis when she reached it, with a brisk, polite “I’ll handle you shortly.” She giggled when she reached his belly.
“I’m working on it!” he said, annoyed.
“They’re cute, Dave.” slipping her hands to give his love handles a squeeze, which quirked him even more.
Then she removed his shirt from his shoulders, pulling out another condom from the breast pocket, before dropping it on the pile of clothing.
Using the women’s alchemy, she converted his waning cock to metal: strokes and coos and thrusts and bust. Then she took hold of his hands and placed them on her waist.
“Keep them here.” She instructed, her gestures and tone demanded obedience. Dave complied, but with casualness that bellowed amusement from the order. Then she fitted another condom over his penis. Watching her confidence delighted him, an extremely erotic sight so close to her own genitalia. Then she rose to her feet and slowly lowered herself onto him. So slowly, it was as if she was lowering her self into a hot tub. As it were, Dave felt he was being fitted into hot tub himself, like hot wax fitting around him.
When he was as far inside as he would go, she rocked back and forth, placing her hands on his shoulder, her eyes closed, apparently detached from the world. So light was her moments for a moment Dave feared going soft inside, but her periodical contractions reassured that would not happened. He then reached for a nipple with his mouth and chewed it lightly with his lips, enjoying her potent pointed breasts. Her corresponding moans told him she did too. His hand stoked her waist, holding tightly.
Minutes past, drunk with pleasure, when she then brought her body down against Dave’s. Her breast pressed against his own chest and neck. She brought their pelvises in contact and she slowly began grinding. Over her shoulder Dave studied her beautiful skin. Her grinding was augmented with a slow thrusting. She rose her face to look into Dave’s. And in that moment David was convinced he was in love. Lips slightly parted, green eyes dazed, and her hair in disarray. She brought her lips down on his and the kissed passionately, faces melding. And in that kiss she climaxed, her quaking body in her arms and her vagina contracting wildly, the kiss, muffling out their moans.
She held on to the feeling and fixed her feet firmly on the floor. Then she rose and fell, impaling herself on his penis: a hard solid fucking, a different universe to the gentle rocking, love-making only minutes ago. She continued briskly, moaning loudly, stealing Dave of his mind, reducing him to animal grunts. His hands grasping at her waist, pulling her down and up against him. Soon she brought him to another orgasm, and herself as well, which really felt like an extension of the first.
Before he completely subsided, she rose off him. Placing her hand on his penis proceeded to remove his condom. She removed it time to witness the last jet of his dying orgasm, soiling her hands. Rubbing and caressing, she didn’t allow Dave to go soft yet. Next on her knees, she cleant him off with her tongue, all the while exploring and testing. His hands on her hair, she pulled the foreskin back and had her tongue dance all over it his top, while a hand went to cup his balls. Then she ran her tongue under the thick vein under his penis. Next she took him into her mouth, warm and damp bringing her hand into play. Pumping and sucking, she brought him into another orgasm, swallowing the last drops of semen.
His moans turned into endearments and promises. Slowly they dressed, and small chit-chat and flirting returned. Dave once again got philosophical.
“You know, I was born in a restroom?”
“Ya, so it’s kinda appropriate that our first fuck is in here, don’t you think?”
“I think you’re full of shit, Dave.”
And then turning seriously,” I think I’m in love with you.”
“I think I love you too”