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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.


          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


            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


            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


                                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


            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


            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


            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


            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


          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! 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


            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



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