Indian Girl First Taste
So faster than a ferret down a rabbit hole and speedier than a stoat up a drainpipe and zippier than the unzipping of a zipper to release its proud, penile, prisoner to plunge proudly into a provocatively proffered pussy, I showered, fixed makeup and hair, wriggled into my school uniform, ate a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios to keep me cheery, and sashayed my way out of the house, a vision of perky, pokie, post-pubescent scrummy dumptiousness. A vision with sensitive, hurty, grape tomato nublets rubbing against my semi-sheer, tie-fronted, super-cropped, school blouse, and a pair of over-large, over-ripe, cherries wiggling seductively beneath my pleated, flicky, micro-mini, school skirt. In other words, a feast for ogling eyes and drooling mouths. Which was what greeted me when I made it to the bus stop, and these ogling eyes and dribbly mouth were attached to the dirtiest, scruffiest, stinkiest boy ever. Not a boy boy, but a teen-man boy complete with bum fluff attached to his top lip. Why am I so turned on by him! “Yes well that was a mistake, a mistake I will not be making again!” I snap angrily, turning my face towards his, only to gasp as his lips seal themselves over mine. His lips continue their attack on me as I feel his arms encase my small waist, pulling me closer to him so I can feel his tense muscles beneath his top, my hands instantly begin to explore, remembering how perfect his body is beneath his ruggedly exterior. “It’s been rather fun watching you try to avoid me dear Bethany, hearing you sneak out of your apartment at 5am just so you don’t have to pass me on your way to work, getting Kelly to collect the paper at weekends, even using the fire escape when you think I’m in the hallway. You are quite the rebel when pushed, my sweet little ‘good girl gone bad,’” he mummers between kisses, his lips moving from mine down my neck and shoulder. Making me moan and gasp, my hands running along his body hungrily, it’s as if he’s awoken some sexual beast.
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