We started doing this two or three times a week, and it ended the same frustrating way, until one night she asked me to come in. She lived with her Mom at the time, who had apparently gone out of town for a few days. I had never been in her house, or really anywhere besides school and the coffee shop with this girl, and didn't know what to expect. We stepped inside and I followed her to her room upstairs. She made a big fuss of making a pot of tea, picking out records and turning on the radio, getting all her french notes organized, making small talk about music and movies and bullshit. ...And then I don't know what happened. Suddenly we were on the floor, rolling around on the carpet, making out, her wrapped around me tight, skirt bunched up around her waist. She rolls on top, straddled me, softly grinding on my instantaneously rock hard cock, rocking back and forth, moaning. I was working on her shirt, which finally came up to reveal a huge lacy bra like a fucking straight. I could tell she wasn’t sure if she liked it, but eventually she would come to love her new “do.” Her hair grew halfway down her back before I was forced to make it stop. Any longer and it could get in the way of her ass and I would not have that. I loved the good girl theme I had going with this girl and so I bound it up into pigtails with two red scrunchies. Even up her hair reached below her shoulders and she turned her head experimentally, tossing her pigtails back and forth. They fanned out and brushed her face and I could tell that if she were permitted to speak she would be giggling like a schoolgirl. “Do you like it?” I asked, waiting for a response. Again she tried to speak, forgetting that she couldn’t. She then nodded, sending not only her breasts jostling, but her hair as well. “Good,” I smiled, “Now you’ve got a pretty little face sweetheart.” She blushed, demurely crossing her leg over the other. “However, as lovely as it is, do you know what it doesn’t say to me?” She.
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