To start the story at the climax would be unfair. To try to convey the verbal foreplay involved in their fond daily interactions would be in vain. I’ll start in history class. Final year of high school where two inexperienced eighteen year olds risk it all for a touch.
Eerie tales of war playing in the background set a soundscape of loud thuds and bangs that mimic the inner voice of the young man. Strategically, he has placed himself next to the hot blonde in his friend group. The one that kept him up until all hours the night before, teasing him with sexual remarks sent digitally, just out of reach. His eyes were forced away from her face, seemingly magnetically, out of sheer embarrassment and fear. The only things he can see peripherally are her soft, tanned thighs that peek from the bottom of the hem of her rolled up school skirt, as well as the top wire from what must be her favourite bra. Just this was enough to send a pulse through his cock, begging the gods for x-ray vision, just for the chance to examine her whole figure.
There was a moment, although indescribable, that was definite and defining. A moment that guided the boys hand, just shy of her supple left thigh. His courage built, if only by a modicum, to bring his shaking fingertip to her knee. It was a gauge, a means to check her willingness to accept his touch. She sat still, eyes fixed on the wall in front of her, totally lost in thought. He swirled his fingers around her knee until she twitched, startling him to take his fingers off, but only briefly. He knew how she thought of him, her words echoing in his head, “I wish we lived closer so I could sneak out to fuck you.”
Until today, those words were just words, late night displays of teenage voracity and digital courage. He decides to press forward, moving his digits to the edge of her skirt. These thighs he caressed were the thighs dreams are made of… soft, smooth and twitching with excitement. His fingers traced until he felt the time right to lay his palm flat against her surface. The time it has taken to get to this point has been frustratingly long for all involved. He wanted to move as slowly as possible to avoid suspicion from the classmates and the teacher regularly doing laps of the room. The only movements you would see him make would be the occasional readjustment of the member in his pants trying desperately to escape.
As his hand rests on the inside of her thigh, he is satisfied he knows that she wants this as bad as he does. He moves his hand up her skirt slowly, noticing the radiant heat from her blood rushed crotch. As his fingers near the edge of her underwear she makes the only sign of her conscious presence for the last twenty minutes. A soft, dainty moan spills from depths of her exhale. His fingers reach under the lip of her underwear, prying them up and sliding them forward as they are immediately greeted by textures unknown. He feels her soft pubic hair, groomed but not shaven, he feels that same warmth as before, like a natural furnace burning fiercely with passion.
Most noticeably though, was the wet, slimy feeling of her pussy begging to be toyed with. The squishy flesh slid with ease along his fingers as he explored his first vulva. He made sure he worked from top to bottom, deciding on his favourite parts to switch between. He notices zones that make her flinch and quiver, some that make her cringe. They both feel nothing but the rush of first time intimacy. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip as she gets totally lost in the feeling. It was obvious he had no idea how to finger a girl, but she was so glad he was trying. She desperately longed for the chance to tell him, “Go slower, go faster, rub my clit, gently.”
Just as he had worked his first finger into the entrance of her vagina… the bell. An alarm so loud it felt like a sledgehammer, shattering the sensual moment shared. His hands moved quicker than they ever had before, removing himself from her pussy before the teacher could turn the lights back on.
The boy’s face was red. The girls face was too. Both finally made eye contact at the conclusion of the class, only to smirk at each other, giggle, and leave. He didn’t know that this was only the start of their multiple sexual engagements. All he knew was that she was the only thing he could think about. Her and that warm wet cunt took up his thoughts and consumed his days. For now, though, he had to focus on hiding his boner under his backpack that he swapped to his front.