A Great Guythe Bastard

A Great Guythe Bastard 1

. I was just a growing girl and attracted a lot of attention that got me hot and wet.
Sometimes I didn't know what to do A "Great" Guy...the Bastard Growing up by phyllisroger He walked along side after school was ou with my splendid profile, I thought, and what did I know...we were teenagers after all...each of us at stages of development in I was ahead of the class, in History, you know what I mean.
I was the magnet of the boys, mostly imma me and a few other girls from afar...I was lucky...my breasts were easily the nicest at was a silent thing we all knew...mine were the best and the others were trying to catch up.
What breasts meant we weren't sure but we were sure they meant something n.
i.
c.
e.
Breasts were the key to a boy's heart, and his dick, and being popular and then, each day, school was out and we were all on our way guy sort of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my he said to me.
"Hey, back" I we walked along.
I noticed it was just us on!" he said and pushed me to the I "I don't know, just stop!" I said.
Well, as guys do, or don't, he didn't stop and pushed me to the along a side street and then down to the ground..."Come on," he me go," I cried as he pushed me down and now he was like one hundred didn't know a guy could have so many hands and they were all on me.
I said, "Stop" again but he didn't.
As I was developing, I naturally admired my breast early checked them out without end...each curve and shape as they grew...the folds, tried different bras, checked the nipples which were sensitive and respon here was this guy with one hundred hands ex was different than nipples were hard before he grabbed...and I turned at him when he was mouth on mine..."You are a little tease," he watched you parading around for us..." Maybe I had and he was all over me..."Stop this" I said and sat up and he pushed me down..."Let me go," I squirmed in his hands and he let me up and I went my blouse down, my dress up, straightening my bra had gotten me...the bas face was red, my whole body was flushed, I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself over...feeling, exploring---two hands, ten fingers--not the rough hundred handed boy--I was still aflame with the moment, nipples hard and sensitive to my touch, my flesh had goose bumps but I petted myself down, smoothing my tummy and my little soothing.
I sat at the edge of my bed, still catching my breath, the house quiet, the front door double locked.
My thighs were so very smooth but my hands were setting me on fire.
I couldn't keep them off myself and petted and wetted and squeezed on them at my wais movement, squeezing, releasing, my little lips and fingers, I was breathing in deeply, flexing, lying back on the bed, that rude, rough boy, I had escaped in time for this! My feet were up now, and spread apart, thinking of him pushing me down, grabbing at my breasts, but he hadn't tried for my wais there, just at that, AH!..special spot, where my fingers were probing and if he had done was too much for me and my legs sprang together, holding my finger inten good for words.
My legs pushed my fingers inside.
I opened them again...thought of all hundred hands hadn't gotten at my wais might have made me come! He could have fucked me...could I avoided that rude boy after the time in the alley.
Made sure I got home early for some self-examination.
Then one afternoon I stayed late at school to see my teacher for a writing evalua was almost dark outside when our meeting began.
I entered the classroom and there he was a bore and writing a chore and a passing grade was barely in sight for me...I walked to his desk.
He looked up, "Hi!" he said.
"I was going over your paper.
It needs work.
" I nodded...I mean obviously it needed work...I wasn't a wri here," he said and I walked around to his side of the desk.
"Punctuation.
" "What about it?" I asked.
He pointed to several spots and I bent over for a closer look and closer to pointing arm against my side.
He had a cologne..."What cologne is that?" I asked.
" don't know.
" "I like it.
" He looked up at me and right at me I smiled back.
He kissed me and pulled away but kissed me again.
He wasn't like the rude boy and I was feeling flushed.
His hand went under my dress, fingers to my wet quim...I couldn't help It was my favorite dress with pleats below the wais a school dress but nice.
Sexy.
"You're a sexy girl," he said.
"You know that, don't you.
" I just smiled and waited for a hundred hands all exploring me.
I had the nicest breasts in class, I knew that, I wondered if I was first in the class between my leg sure felt like I wa hands were stroking me now.
He yanked down my knickers and I felt cool and hot at the same time.
My legs moved apart.
They couldn't help it.
He bent me across his waist.
"You're a sexy, dirty little girl.
" His words were stinging and exciting and he lifted my dress.
More then a whack on my bot should be spanked because you're dirty," he said and he spanked me again...pushing me against his leg.
Now he was massaging my bot me again as I moved against his hand.
"Sit on me," he said, lifting me away from his lap.
He pulled my legs apart, feeling up my thighs and I sat on leaned my head on his shoulder, shivering, not from the cold...from the heat and feelings of his hundred fingers and my waist moving to get more, feel more, breath more...I was gulping for air as he said dirty words in my ear...I was his "wet cunt" his "dirty cunt" his "little tart" I was a dancer too, my waist dancing on his finger I said "Stop.
" "Stop.
It's and he held me there.
I didn't feel dirty at all.
My little body parts clinging to his finger relieved, washed and clean is what I felt.
I was on my bed now at home, lying back, dreaming, in my dream he was doing the work, stroking, petting, jus there and I was flexing hard and my head back on his shoulder as he touched and explored, thrilling me and I pulled on his hands at my wais was so quiet in quiet.
I think he liked my writing technique.
I got a passing grade.
I learned a kind of lesson.
I got to thinking, on many nights, about the two guys.
They were both rough, one grabbing, one spanking.
Very different but the same resul got me going.
The spanking though was best.
The teacher would hit my bottom and then rest his hand on me, moving it around, like soothing the skin he had hit and then spanking me again, smoothing again.
It stung each time but I forgot about the sting and waited for his soothing touch.
Then I was raising my rump, opening to his touch when the palm of his hand slid on my lips, fingers dip put my hand back...I was all puffed and wet and the palm of his hand made me shake and move on i he would rest his hand and play with me, his fingers sliding up and down as I lifted more and he made me come on his fingers, my cunt in the palm of his hand, my cheek on his knees.
He felt my hot cheek and my breathing on seemed like hours but it was minutes and I hoped he would check my papers some time Night after night I went to sleep with these conflicting dream searching hands, disgusting hands forcing me down...it all put me to I had thought it all was the combination of pain followed by intense with the slap, ignited by the fingers could almost come just by thinking about i a hundred hands I only needed my fingers.

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