by kinkys_sis
I loved my job, my chosen profession as an English teacher, and yet I was also coming to dread it.
I had become afraid of my feelings and the way they would flare up at the most inconvenient times, distracting me just when I needed to act the part of the straitlaced professional. It was becoming hard to concentrate on teaching the girls in front of me. I mean, only teaching them.
So it might sound strange to say I was relieved and excited when I finally got a class of my own — I was now a full-fledged teacher with a group of eager young students — but I honestly thought my new, heavier responsibilities would keep my emotions in check. Everything was going to be fine.
It was Jenny who ruined the plan. It wasn’t her fault. It was entirely mine. A twelve-year-old girl, keen to learn, and a budding writer. Though still inept in the art, she was brimming with ideas, and she so wanted to write.
At first, it was her imagination that caught my notice. Stories just seemed to pour from her. I would assign a two-page essay and she’d write five, and even then, she wouldn’t finish the story in the time available.
There was, however, one big problem. Well, two really. Her punctuation was dreadful, and her grammar wasn’t much better. It seemed she used to hate English and hadn’t bothered to learn very much. That is, until she discovered that she liked to write stories. She herself soon realised that what she had written often didn’t make much sense when it was read aloud. She knew it was the lack of punctuation that was making everything seem wrong. She was mortified.
My heart almost bled for her. I recognised a talent waiting to break free, but being held back by her shortcomings. I had to help. It was my job, after all.
When I did, her progress astounded me. She began to improve at a phenomenal rate. It didn’t matter how much homework I gave her. She just took it in her stride. Then she wrote a fantasy story. The story itself was good, but oh my God, the grammar was perfect. In fact, it was too good. I got suspicious. “Jenny,” I asked her, “did your sister help you with this story?”
She almost started to cry when she confessed that she’d begun to put her stories through Grammarly.com. Not to cheat, she hastily added. It’s just that it’s the best way to find out what she was doing wrong, and it gave her time to sit and think about it.
I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I decided to let it ride for the moment. I would set her a test where she couldn’t use Grammarly, and see whether she really was learning.
It was about that time that I first realised just how much I was thinking about her. She had almost cried and it had tugged at my heart. I knew she wasn’t trying to cheat anyone. She really wanted to get it right.
I leaned over her desk, looking at her written words, my hand resting on her arm. The jolt hit me like an electric shock. I snatched my hand away, glad that she hadn’t appeared to notice. My mind was in a whirl as I walked back to my desk. What the hell had just happened? I’d only touched her arm briefly, and yet my body was tingling, and I was breaking out in a sweat. I’d never experienced anything like it, and it left me feeling confused and frightened.
That evening I sat and thought about what had happened. Finally, I knew that I couldn’t deny that I was developing a bond with this girl. It wasn’t simply helping with her writing. What was it? A sort of friendship? Maybe I’d found a kindred spirit? Then I thought about how I had felt when I touched her. Oh God! It was sexual — my body had reacted to her.
I was horrified at the realisation. A twelve-year-old schoolgirl, for God’s sake. I had never before felt a sexual attraction for anyone, and now, to suddenly find that I was falling for one of my students, I felt terrible. It couldn’t be possible.
I swallowed the large brandy I had poured myself, then poured another. I sat and thought. Thought what? My mind kept going in circles, but it always came back to her.
The third brandy didn’t help much either. I sort of languished in my chair. She’s so beautiful, I thought. It was with a shock that I realised I had been thinking about her face, her legs, her figure.
I didn’t get aroused very often, but I was now. I lay back, and somehow, one hand found its way between my legs, pressing as I thought about her. I raised my hips to meet the pressure and heard the glass, which I had forgotten I was still holding, hit the floor.
I pressed harder in response to the sensations between my legs, my other hand clutching at my breasts. A thought briefly flickered through my mind. “What the fuck are you doing?” But then I didn’t care. Her image swam before my eyes, a dawning awareness of the way she looked at me and the thrust of her little breasts as they poked up so clearly through her blouse.
I don’t recall exactly how or when my knickers ended up at my feet, or how my skirt got to be around my waist. I began to feel my climax building as I thought about her and rubbed my clit faster. “Oh God, Jenny, I need you so badly!”
I awoke sometime later, stiff from the awkward position I was in and chilly from being half undressed. My mind fought through the drunken haze and then caught up. Oh God! What had I been thinking? Yet, the more I thought about it and about her, the more I knew it was too late.
Over the next few weeks, I would find any excuse to touch her. Nothing overt, just little casual touches to her arm or fingers. But then came the day that my hand rested lightly on her arm as I explained a point to her. I froze when she placed her hand on top of mine. I tried to pull my hand away, but she held me there, squeezing my fingers. She smiled up at me for a second, then let me go.
The following week, I had her move her desk. I brought her to the front of the room and over to one side, explaining that I needed her nearer so I could keep a constant check on her work. None of the other students had any reason to think it at all odd. Most admired her writing, and they loved to hear her stories read aloud. They understood I was trying to help, especially after I said I intended to enter one of her stories in the inter-schools writing competition.
For a moment, my mind was miles away. Everyone was busy with their own work, and I had a few minutes to myself. Then I glanced up and immediately wished I hadn’t. Jenny was sitting with her legs open, and I clearly saw her panties. I snatched my eyes away, looking up at her face. She was writing away, seemingly oblivious to her display.
The next day, I found myself constantly glancing her way, and was disappointed that there was no repeat of the previous day’s panty show. Once, she noticed me looking at her, and her slight smile made me gulp as I struggled to keep a straight face.
Five minutes later she was again buried in her work. Then I saw her legs slowly spreading. I was transfixed as I waited, pretending as best I could not to be looking. There! Snug red panties, so very pretty.
I checked to see if she was aware of my gaze, but other than the tiny smile on her face, she showed no sign that she knew the effect she was having on me.
Hidden behind my desk, I let a hand drop and pulled up my skirt. Then I slowly rubbed myself through my knickers whilst imagining they were hers.
With a shudder, I forced myself to stop before I lost control. I realised with shock that although her head was bowed toward her desk, she’d raised her eyes and was looking directly at me. Her legs opened wider, and she slid her butt forward on her chair, giving me a much clearer view. Suddenly the bell went for the lunchtime break. She snapped her legs shut as she gathered her stuff together, but she was now looking into my eyes, still with that faint smile.
That evening, I was in an awful muddle once again. I knew I was captivated by her, but I also knew she was fully aware of what she was doing. She had set me up today with those tight red panties. Was she simply teasing me, or was she trying to show me that there could be more? The realisation that she had seen my reaction to her little game only aroused me further. Did she know I had actually been rubbing myself?
Shit. I hoped it wasn’t just teasing. Her smile, though, had told me that she wanted me to look at her. It was a warm and inviting smile, with nothing at all cunning about it.
It didn’t take long to climax. Just the thought of moving those panties aside — Did she have any hair yet? How thick were the lips? Or was there nothing but a tight little slit? I suddenly had a picture of her touching her clit and wondering whether I was doing the same thing, and that’s when I came. A wonderful, mind-blowing orgasm.
I had to wait for three days before I had her in my class again. It seemed like an eternity, and I felt flushed whenever I thought of her. I was losing control of my emotions, allowing myself to drift into dangerous territory. I resolved to put an end to it before it got completely out of hand — but not just yet. I was enjoying it too much.
I tried to be patient, but this morning she seemed indifferent to me. Eventually, I managed to concentrate on the papers I was supposed to be marking. I was moving on from one paper to the next when a quick glance stopped me dead. Her hand was resting casually in her lap, but her fingers were lazily stroking the front of her panties. Today, they were a gorgeous light pink, and just as tight as the red ones. The only difference was that this time I could see the little camel-toe outline of her slit.
My mouth went dry as I struggled to breathe. Those little fingers slowly teased me as I watched them lightly caress her pussy. Hastily, I reached down between my legs and followed her lead. She gave the slightest nod of her head — she must have known I was touching myself. The mere thought of her awareness almost drove me over the edge. I withdrew my hand, then, making sure no one was watching, I put a finger to my lips and gave it a quick suck. Fascinated, I watched her do the same. Then she closed her legs and resumed her work.
Thursday seemed to take forever to come around. I was a bundle of nerves as the kids piled into class and noisily took their seats. Jenny walked toward me holding her essay book, but rather than face me across my desk, as protocol demanded, she walked around and stood beside me, laying her book down in front of me. “Could you check this for me, Miss Rebecca? When you have time, that is.” Her thigh was pressed against my leg. Without thinking, I gave the back of her leg a quick, light caress. She leaned in harder, clearly inviting me to do more. I found my hand drifting upward before I realised the enormity of the situation. Reluctantly, I took my hand away and picked up her book.
I saw her beautiful smile again as she took her place at her own desk. Oh God, did she just wink at me?
It wasn’t long before, back at her desk, she slumped forward in her seat and spread her legs again. It was becoming a habit with her. I was writing some notes on the blackboard, and suddenly I was struggling to speak. I could see her slit, staring at me. No panties, just a bare pussy. She obviously saw me struggling. She raised her hand, and I was just able to croak, “Yes, Jenny, what is it?”
She asked some simple questions about the assignment, which gave me enough time to get hold of myself. I finished at the board and returned to my seat. I called on Sarah to read her piece to the class and picked up a pen, pretending to be making notes as the girl read aloud.
I saw Jenny’s hand drop between her legs again, but this time she wasn’t just teasing herself. She was pressing her finger into her slit, stroking upwards, and slowly. Then she moved in circles at the very top. “Fuck!” I thought. “She’s rubbing her fucking clit!”
For the first time, I didn’t stop myself. I actually had a controlled orgasm right in front of my whole class. It was quite clear that only Jenny was aware of what was happening as she discreetly worked her pussy. Then she gripped her desk, coming as she stared into my eyes. I saw her lick her lips, and I very nearly copied her before I managed to get a grip on myself.
All weekend, I tried to think of a way to move our relationship forward without putting either of us in danger. But there was no answer. Whatever we did, it was going to be dangerous. I was shocked to find that for myself, I didn’t care, but for Jenny, it was different. I had to think of her.
Monday came around. Jenny gave me a quick smile as she took her seat. I waited, as usual, but today I waited in vain. She showed me nothing. By the time class was over, I was devastated. What had happened? She still smiled at me, but that was all.
Thursday was no different, and I went home that afternoon feeling empty and worried. What had I done? How could I ask her what was wrong? What had changed so suddenly?
I often scribbled notes in the kids’ workbooks, and finally, after three weeks of working myself into an awful state, I wrote in Jenny’s, Punctuation so much better this time. Look forward to more of the same… Why? Would she understand?
This morning she looked a little sad, and even a bit worried. Clearly something was troubling her.
One at a time, I called the students up to my desk, and I quietly went through a few points with each one. When I called Jenny, I pushed a note out to her that read, What’s happened? Did I upset you?
She bent over and wrote, as if she were correcting something in her book, No. My sister said you could get in trouble. But I love you.
My heart pounded at what I read. She loved me! Yet I understood very well what she was saying. I gave her a nod as she took her seat again. That, I thought, was the end of our romance.
Several weeks later, after I had accepted the situation, I was gathering my things at my staff locker when I saw the paper sticking out from the pages of a book. It was an envelope with just the word Private written across the front. Of course, I recognized Jenny’s handwriting. Guiltily, I glanced around, but no one was paying me any attention. I packed my briefcase as fast as I could and headed out to my car.
I wanted to rip open the envelope then and there, but I told myself to wait until I got home. I drove out of the school gates and made my usual right. Jenny lived in the other direction. Today I saw her standing partly hidden by a tree. She blew me a kiss as I went by. I thrust out my arm and waved at her. My heart was bursting. Did I have my love back again?
As soon as I got home, I dumped my stuff on the floor, searched for the envelope, and ripped it open. My first thought was disappointment. It was a story, several pages long. Then I read the title — “The English Teacher’s Note”. Could it be about me?
I sat down and started to read. Fuck! How did she know this stuff? Where had she learned so much about sex? She knew more than I did. How was that even possible?
***
The English Teacher’s Note
It was last term when I first thought my English teacher had the hots for me. Those little touches on my hand and my arm. The extra smiles that no one else got. The suddenly higher grades. and then the extra help with my dreadful punctuation.
She never gave anything away or did anything that anyone might notice. It was the day I got my workbook back at the end of term. Shit! An A+. How the hell did I get that? But most of all, it was the note.
Nothing much in itself. All it said was, “Have a lovely holiday, and keep studying. I’m here to help.” But it was a note. She never left a note for anyone. So why me?
Miss Rebecca was stunning. She was the best-looking teacher at school. I guess she was about twenty-eight or nine, but certainly under thirty. But the main thing was her figure. I mean, like the figure of an eighteen-year-old, and so hot.
Most of the teachers dressed like frumps. Don’t they always? But not Miss R. Hot? She was to die for. And to be honest, I could have. Died for her I mean. I so totally had a massive crush on her.
All I had to do was look at her and my panties got damp. Soaking, if I thought about her too long. Sometimes I had to excuse myself so I could go and dry them out in the girls’ room. And quite often, I’d bring myself off with a good rub while I was there.
I first saw the note when I collected the rest of my stuff from my locker. It was poking out the side of my English book. I stood and stared at it, thoughts tumbling through my mind. What did it mean? Was she telling me something? She couldn’t be, could she?
When I reached the front doors, I saw her walking to her car. I dashed out the front gates, and around the corner, the way I knew she would turn. I hurried to the stretch further up the road where no cars were parked.
I saw her car coming, and she glanced my way. Plucking up my courage, I waved at her. I couldn’t breathe as I waited to see if she would stop. She wasn’t going to. Oh God no, I could see that. But then suddenly she swerved to the kerb and came to a stop alongside me.
She lowered the window and leaned across towards me. “Jenny, whatever’s the matter?”
“Oh, er… nothing’s the matter, Miss,” I stammered out. “It’s just I got your nice note, and I was wondering, if I had problems with my work in the holiday, can I give you a call? If it’s not too much trouble?”
“Oh is that all? Well, of course, you can. I’d be only too happy to help.” She reached her hand out, and laid it on mine where it rested on the car door. “Do you have my number? No, of course you don’t.” She didn’t let go of my hand, but fumbled around with her other hand until she produced a card. “Here, now ring me if you need help. No, ring me anyway. You can tell me how you’re getting on.”
She gave my fingers a squeeze. “Promise me, alright?”
“Yes, Miss, I promise.”
“Rebecca,” she said.
“Miss Rebecca.”
“No, just Rebecca.” Then let go of my hand, gave me a wave and one of her gorgeous smiles, and drove away.
“Oh my God, she told me to call her Rebecca.” I looked at my hand, still feeling her touch. Shit, I could have wet myself.
Two days quickly passed by. I was itching to phone her, but thought I should wait a few days. Now, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to call.
She must have been sitting close to her phone, because she answered straight away. “It’s me, Jenny,” I said. Then I thought that sounded a bit stupid.
“Hello, Jenny. I wondered whether you would call. What can I do for you?”
That’s odd, I thought. She must know why I was calling. “Well, I wanted to show you something I’m working on. I need some advice.”
There was a long pause. Had she hung up? “Can you just tell me about it, and I’ll see if I can help in any way.”
“Not really, M… I mean, Rebecca. I want you to see it. Can I bring it around to your house?”
Another long pause, like before. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jenny. Perhaps you could post it to me.”
I was crestfallen. “If you say so, Rebecca.” I could have cried. I’d built my hopes up so high. “But I wanted to be there and see you read it. It would mean so much to me. I … er… I think you’ll like it. Oh, please say I can bring it around.”
I prayed while she was thinking. Finally, she spoke. “I shouldn’t, but okay. Can you make it around this afternoon? Say after one.”
“Oh, Rebecca, thank you,” I nearly shouted. “Yes, I’ll be there at one!”
I checked my stories. Which one should I take? In the end, I picked out two – “Auntie Kate” and “The Mall”.
She looked even more beautiful than ever when she opened the door. “Hello, Jenny. My! Dead-on one.” She looked up and down the street before she stepped back and asked me in.
I followed her to what was obviously her study. There she pointed me towards the sofa before she sat at her desk.
“So, what have you got that it’s so important that I must see?”
For a moment, I pondered, choosing my words. “Rebecca, have you ever heard of Sapphic Delights?”
“I can’t say I have, no. It sounds as though it’s something … well, lesbian.”
“Oh it is. It’s a wonderful website, and I’ve been writing stories to post on there. I used Grammarly to check my spelling and all. The problem is that I only have the basic version. It corrects my spelling and punctuation okay, but then it warns me I have loads of grammatical errors. But without the paid-for version, I don’t know what they are. So you see… ” I trailed off.
“I see. I wondered how you had improved so much. So, you’ve been writing lesbian stories, have you?”
Now I felt uncertain of myself. “Er, yes I have, Rebecca.” I thought I could see her come to a decision.
“Did you bring one with you?”
I handed her “Auntie Kate”. “It’s er… it’s very naughty, M … Rebecca. I hope you don’t mind.”
She raised an eyebrow at me, I loved it when she did that. It was so sexy. Then she began to read. She didn’t pause until it got to, I guessed, the part about Kate’s car. She glanced up at me, but went right back to reading.
Then it got to where Kate and I were inside, and things were getting steamy. I knew that’s what she was up to because I saw her fidget, and her face reddened a bit. But she didn’t stop reading.
When she was finished, her hands were shaking as she stared at the paper in her hand. She looked back up at me. “Jenny, you wrote this? Honestly?”
“Yes, Rebecca,” I muttered.
“But I don’t understand. How do you know all these things? I mean the detail is so graphic. It must mean that you have experienced them.”
I nodded my head, and whispered. “Yes. Oh God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“It wasn’t that you just wanted me to help you with this, was it?”
With my eyes glued to the floor, I whispered, “No, Rebecca. I wanted to see you. I know how you look at me, and the way you touch me sometimes. I thought maybe… Oh God, I’m so stupid. I got it all wrong, didn’t I?”
She glanced back at my paper. “I didn’t know people your age wrote stories like this. I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but it’s so bloody hot. And no, you haven’t got it wrong. I’ve been fighting with myself for months, worrying and wondering if I should dare say anything. Now you’re here, and I’m scared again. Just like the Kate in your story. Hold on. I see why you brought this story. You’re trying to tell me something, am I right?”
I knew then she was wavering. She might still send me away. I got up from the sofa and stood in front of her.
Shyly, I reached out a hand, and my fingers touched her lips. “Rebecca, you don’t need to say anything, I’m here for you. If you want, I’ll go, but I know you don’t want me to.”
Her lips pursed, and she kissed my fingers. She took my hand in hers. “Jenny, I can’t— ”
“Yes, you can.” I leaned down until my lips met hers. Her eyes went as wide as saucers, gazing into mine, but she didn’t kiss me back. Whispering again, “Rebecca, come on,” I said.
With a groan, her eyes closed, and then her lips moved. Oh God, at last, my love was kissing me!
She raised a hand towards my front, but stopped halfway and let it drop again. I grabbed it and pulled it back, pushing it up under my top. My arms went around her neck, pulling her closer.
Her hand moved, ever so slightly, feeling my flesh. Slowly, it inched higher, stopping just below my budding boobs. She clutched at my skin, but she was too scared to go further.
I pulled my face back. “Don’t stop, please. Touch me, Rebecca. I want you to.”
We stared at each other. “Now!” I said. Her hand moved again, and it covered my boob. She glanced at where her hand was hidden, and when she felt my hard nipple, she looked back up.
“Oh, God, so beautiful,” she said. Her fingers pulled at my nipple, and I let out a moan. Her other hand was lifting my top. “May I?” she asked. I reached down to help her, and then the top was over my head.
Her eyes fastened on my front. “Fuck!” she breathed. Then she leaned in until her lips covered one of my boobs. I’ve had my tits sucked loads of times, but now it was my Rebecca, and that made a huge difference. My panties were wet with my longing for her.
I felt for the catch of my skirt, and in a second it dropped to my ankles. She must have felt it go because she pulled back a little, looking down at my little panties. She ran a hand over the material, but suddenly stopped and gasped. “Jenny, you’re dripping wet. God, is that for me?”
“Always. You make me so wet.”
She touched the front of my panties again, feeling the wetness oozing from me. Then she lifted her finger and looked at it, shining in front of her face. She brought it to her lips and tasted it. That was when I knew she was mine. She wouldn’t — she couldn’t — turn me away now.
I slid my hands into my panties and pushed them slowly down. I stopped just as my little slit began to show. She glanced up at me, and she looked hungry. I smiled. I felt so evil. “You want to see? Tell me.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what, Rebecca?”
Now she smiled, the worry gone from her face. “I want to see your pussy, Jenny. I want to love it.”
My panties fell to the floor, and once more she groaned. “Jenny, I’ve dreamed of this moment. I’ve cried with worry and wanting, but now you’re here, and offering your beautiful jewel to me.” Her face moved in, and she kissed my slit — not just once, but over and over, eagerly, urgently.
She pushed my legs apart and felt the dribble on my inner thigh. “So wet, my God!” Then she was licking the inside of my leg, slowly getting higher, until her mouth was right below my pussy. She looked up. Her tongue rose to my slit. A long slow lick from the bottom up to the top. “Mmm,” she said.
“Rebecca,” I said, “take your clothes off, too.”
She stood up, then took my hand in hers. “Come with me.”
It was a lovely bedroom, but I really didn’t care. I just wanted to see Rebecca’s naked body. I thought she might put on a show for me, but no. I was barely settled on the bed before she was finished undressing. All I could do was stare open-mouthed at her beauty. My sister, Mary, is gorgeous. Rebecca was the same. Yes, there were differences, but not in the beauty stakes.
She laughed. “Cat got your tongue, has it? And you’re drooling. Well?”
I was almost lost for words. “Oh my fucking God,” was all I could manage.
“Hey, language, Little Miss. Teachers can swear like that, not pupils.” She was laughing again.
“I’m not your pupil now, Rebecca.”
“Oh my, cheeky with it as well.” But she walked over to me, and I pulled her into my arms.
She kissed me with wild abandon, rolling over and bringing me on top. My wildest dreams were coming true.
Her hands gripped my bum, pressing me to her. Her fingers explored between my cheeks, and I lifted slightly, easing them open to her touch. My tight little hole tickled when she probed, and I heard her groan again, this time from deep in her throat.
I pushed a hand between us until I could take hold of her breast, rolling the nipple between my fingers., squeezing and pulling. I was instantly rewarded as it stiffened and grew. I was desperate to suck her. I kissed her everywhere on the way, lovingly caressing her neck with my lips and tongue. The swell at the top of her breasts was so soft and warm. My mouth found the nipple. I drew it in between my lips while I screwed my eyes toward her face. She was watching my every move. Lightly, I bit. Her eyes clamped shut and her head tilted back.
Moving down so I could get to her breasts had also slid my pussy down. Our mounds came into contact. I ground into her as soon as I felt her there. She, in turn, ground herself into me. But the touch I really wanted was not there yet. Sis had taught me well, though. I pushed my knee between her thighs and slid my pussy up and down her leg. Feverishly, we began to hump, rubbing our clits together.
I would have come straight away if I’d continued, but that wasn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was to eat her out and watch her face while I made her come.
She moaned when I took my thigh away, but just as quickly, she sighed when my fingers went to her pussy, opening her up and moving the petals aside. I didn’t have to spread her hood open. Her clit was already showing. I gave it the slightest touch with my tongue. “Oh, God, yes!” she exclaimed. “Please!”
I drew her clit between my lips, and she surged to meet me. I gave her a firm suck. “Oh fuck!” she said. I held my urges back, softly teasing her, loving her. Her face was all screwed up. Agony? Ecstasy? I wasn’t sure, but it was wonderful to watch.
Now I bunched my fingers, easing gently inside of her hidden love nest. She opened her eyes. “Jenny, oh God, Jenny, fuck me please.” Then she closed them again, and I began to do just that.
Her pussy met my thrusts, and her muscles clenching and releasing over and over. I sensed that she was stuck at one level, climbing higher only very slowly. The desperation on her face was evident.
I curled my fingers, searching, feeling for the one place I hoped she had. Suddenly she squealed and went rigid. I had found it. Gently I probed, and she began to tremble. Her hands snatched at the bed covers, drawing them tightly to her body. Her head thrashed from side to side, and she was shaking, shaking so very hard.
I gave her clit a long hard suck, and she screamed out loud. Her body twitched violently every few seconds, and I could tell that she was having a rolling orgasm, riding it as I drove her on.
Her face contorted one more time, and she simply collapsed. Her body was completely loose. Only her hand moved as she trailed her fingers through my hair.
Her eyes opened when I withdrew my hand. She watched me get to my knees. I raised my hand to my lips and teasingly sucked each finger as provocatively as I could. I saved the last one and, leaning forwards, pushed it between her lips. Her eyes opened wide, but she still sucked on my finger.
She lifted her arms, inviting me to her. When my face was right up to hers, she spoke. “Jenny, God. I never imagined. How did you do that? I wanted you, oh how I wanted you, but that was… I never experienced anything like it.”
“Shh.” I whispered, and put my lips to hers. This was a kiss of beauty, gentle and oh so loving.
We rolled onto our sides and lay there gazing into each other’s eyes. “I have a confession to make,” she said. “That was my first time. With someone else, I mean. You, Jenny, are my first lover, and it was so much more than I could have dreamed. All this time, I’ve been lusting for you. Sometimes I was ashamed of myself because of it, and all the time you knew. You knew I wanted you, but you couldn’t tell me.”
My heart was soaring with happiness. “Rebecca, I’ve loved you for ages. But I didn’t know how you felt — until I got your note.”
She kissed me again then said. “It’s my turn now. Let me love you.”
The End
***
The more I read, the more turned on I got. I put the story down for a moment and stripped off my skirt and knickers. There was no way that I could read any more without touching myself. I got to the end before I had climaxed, so I started over from the beginning. It was so erotic, so divinely hot, and soon I was coming.
For a second I worried about the sofa. I was so wet I knew I must be making a mess. Oh, sod the fucking sofa. There was no way I could stop. My Jenny was talking to me, and I did so need her right now.
I had never felt so satisfied, happily dreaming about Jenny and what she had written. I loved the bloody little genius, and now she was offering herself to me. Well, maybe not offering. Maybe she was demanding that I become her lover, consequences be damned.
Then I saw another small piece of paper. I pulled it out and looked at it. It was a phone number.
I sat for more than an hour, picking up the phone and then putting it down, over and over. Then suddenly, it was ringing, vibrating in my hand. “Unknown Caller,” the screen told me. I almost clicked it off, but some sixth sense told me not to. Hesitantly, I said, “Hello, may I help you?”
There was no answer, I was about to turn it off, when I heard the quiet and shaky voice. “Miss Rebecca, will you talk to me please?”
“Is that you, Jenny? What can I do for you?” What a stupid question, I thought.
“Did you read my story? I know I shouldn’t have sent it. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
She was crying. I couldn’t bear the sound of it. My heart melted.
“Jenny, I’m shocked. Your story is very graphic, but it’s also … so beautiful. Is it really how you think of me? I mean, of us?”
There was a long silence. “Jenny, are you still there? Speak to me, don’t be scared.”
She began to talk, slowly at first, then gradually gaining confidence. “Miss — may I call you Rebecca? Rebecca, I love you. I have for so long, and you never noticed. I had to make you notice, and then when you did, I got scared. I didn’t want to get you into trouble, so I stopped. But I missed you so badly. I saw the way you wanted me. I wrote that story ages ago.”
She paused, and I almost spoke, but she began again. “I know all about sex, and I want to do it with you. Please tell me it’s what you want, too.”
For the briefest of seconds, I hesitated, but then I answered. “Jenny, you know I want you. What you don’t know is just how much. God, I’ve been in hell since you stopped flirting with me. I love you so much more than you could possibly know. Somehow, I’m going to find a way so I can show you. Will you let me?”
“Oh my God, Rebecca, I’m so happy. Will you… let’s play with ourselves while we talk. I want to come with you right now.”
“Can I tell you something, Jenny? I just did have the most wonderful come when I read your story, but yes, I can come again while we talk. Just one question — are you really going to do to me what you say in your story? Do you really want to suck my pussy?”
It was a new and confident Jenny who spoke to me now. “Rebecca, yes I’m going lick your pussy, and I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. It’s all I think about — ever since I first saw you. I just wanted to find out how to make it happen. Now I think I have… I have, haven’t I?”
“Jenny, stop talking so much. How many fingers have you got in your pussy right now? Oh, fuck Jenny, I’m going to come already. Please come with me. God, I’m coming!”
Afterward, I pondered for ages. Did I really want to take this further? And if so, how could I do it safely? I had to be careful, if only for Jenny’s sake. Yes, she could come to my home, but only once or twice. Any more than that, and we’d draw the attention of some nosey-parker.
Her story had inflamed me. It made me realise Jenny wasn’t just a schoolgirl playing games. She certainly wrote like someone who knew about sex — far more than I did. God knows where she had learned it all, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that I wanted her to teach me. In fact, I longed for her to teach me. She was becoming my every waking thought. My pussy was in a constant and wet state of arousal.
What if I booked a room in a city hotel? That could work, but then I thought, maybe it would seem a bit sleazy, and I wanted it to be so nice for her.
Could I take her away for the weekend? How would she possibly be able to get her mother to agree to that, what reason could she give that would be acceptable? No, that was a non-starter.
Of course, it was Jenny who solved the problem. She rang to say that she and her sister, Mary, were going on a picnic outing, and could I join them? I had met Mary once at a parents’ evening, but clearly, Jenny was saying something more. The suggestion was that Mary would be an accomplice in our liaison. I wasn’t about to say no.
Then I thought, could it be? No, surely not — had Jenny picked up her sexual experience from her own sister? I didn’t want to dwell on the thought, but if it helped me and Jenny to get together, I wasn’t about to question it.
I parked my car where Jenny had suggested, then followed the pathway on foot. I hadn’t realised that this place even existed — an oasis of beauty hidden away from all but the very few who bothered to look for it. I had no idea where I was headed. I simply followed the path as it went down through the trees and glades.
It was Mary I saw first, holding hands with a beautiful young girl I didn’t recognise. Then, out of nowhere, Jenny came flying at me. “Rebecca, you came!” Her arms were about me, pulling me tightly to her as she beamed that smile into my face. “I knew you would, and here you are.” Her look was a mixture of relief and joy. She saw me glance at Mary and her friend. “Oh, don’t you worry about them. Just kiss me. I’ve wanted it for so long.”
I looked down at her, my dream in my arms, and yet now I was suddenly frightened again. She saw my worry, my hesitation at finally crossing that line. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t let it worry you. You know you want to.”
I saw her lips slowly lifting up to mine. My desires took over, and I surrendered to her. Our lips met. Softly at first, that first exploration. Then passion took over, and we kissed for real. I simply melted. Her mouth was so experienced, yet so hungry, that my doubts evaporated.
When eventually I opened my eyes and pulled back, I realised Mary and the strange girl were watching us. I was embarrassed, a twenty-eight-year old woman kissing a girl aged only twelve, and in front of witnesses. But I saw Mary’s smile, and then the other girl spoke. “Oh my God, that was just so sexy,” she said. “I’ve never seen Jenny being kissed by anyone but Mary or me, and you’re so beautiful. So, at last, you’re Rebecca. I can see why Jenny has the hots for you. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
I felt myself flushing as I glanced at the three of them, two youngsters and an eighteen-year-old. Mary seemed to sense my discomfort. “Rebecca, this is Jenny’s best friend, Katie, and she’s my girlfriend,” she said. “I’m so glad you came. Jenny has been a total bloody pain in the arse worrying whether you would. But you’re here now. Please relax. We want you here. Forget who and what you are. Just be Jenny’s girlfriend.”
Mary and Katie took hold of each other’s hands again and walked off down the pathway. I turned and saw Jenny looking at me pleadingly. “Please, Rebecca, you’re here now. That means you wanted to be, and I’m here for you.” She held out her hand. For a second more I hesitated, and then I reached out and our fingers entwined. We turned and followed the other two.
My worries were suddenly gone. I felt light-headed, feeling her hand in mine. Happiness flooded through me. I stopped walking and pulled her back. “Kiss me again,” I said, “just to show me this is real.”
Never before had I ever been kissed like that, with such skill, her tongue delving between my lips. It drove me mad with desire. I wanted to rip her clothes off right there, but she stopped my hands as they pawed at her. “Not yet, you’ll see,” she said, and she pulled out of our embrace. “Come on … my love.”
I allowed myself to be dragged along. “My love,” she’d called me.
From behind, I almost couldn’t believe that she was only twelve. Her legs were long, but they weren’t thin and gawky. In fact, they were more shapely than my own. Then I was looking at her shorts-clad arse, the way her cheeks rotated and her hips wiggled as she walked. It wasn’t put on. It was simply natural, and so damned sexy.
The whole time we walked, Jenny chattered in a way I had never heard from her before. She had always held herself aloof from all the other bubbly, giggly girls, acting more like a grown-up. But today she was one of the gigglers, just like her peers. Her obvious delight at my being here was infectious, and so lovely to hear.
Then Mary broke away from the path, pushing her way through the undergrowth. Jenny and I, following, came to a small glade, a gap in the trees where the sun broke through, where there were wildflowers and soft grass. It was enchanting.
Jenny turned to face me. “So, here we are. What do you think of our secret place?”
Mary spread two blankets as I looked about. “Oh Jenny, well, it’s… well, it’s wonderful.”
We unpacked Mary’s picnic hamper and the bag I’d brought — sandwiches, cheeses, chicken drumsticks, crisps, and of course the wine.
Nervously, I sat down on one blanket, not quite sure what to do or what was expected of me. I was hungry, but my stomach was churning. Jenny kneeled down next to me. “Rebecca, please try and relax. You’re so tense. You don’t need to be. I’m here for you, and it’s what you want. At last, we’re together.” Then she glanced at the other two. “Oh, I know what it is. Well, don’t worry about them. You’ll see.”
Katie gave Jenny a wink and a sly grin before she turned to Mary. “Come here, you,” she said. “You haven’t kissed me yet.”
I’d never seen two girls kiss. Did I say “kiss”? This was so completely sexual, their lips moving together, their mouths opening, devouring each other. And their hands? So quickly exploring, touching each other everywhere.
And, oh my God, they were undressing as they went. I thought I shouldn’t be watching like this, but I couldn’t look away. Their tops were gone, tossed aside. Katie wasn’t wearing a bra, but Mary was, though it wasn’t much of one. Katie eased the straps down her arms until it fell away from Mary’s breasts, and then a beautiful pair of boobs was flattened against Katie’s small buds as they embraced.
I nearly jumped as I felt the contact. Jenny had come behind me. It was her lips on my neck, and then she whispered in my ear. “Does that turn you on?” Her hands came around front, cupping my breasts, and squeezing gently. “Love me, Rebecca. Please.”
I groaned as I turned my head, searching for her lips. Slowly she eased me back as we kissed, and then her body was on top of mine. My little angel was really in my arms at last, her body pressed to mine. I felt her warmth on me as my fingers drifted through her beautiful long hair. How often I had admired it! Now she was here, and I was clasping her to me.
Her kisses and the touch of her hands aroused such wonderful feelings. How long had I dreamed about this moment? And yet. I wanted us to be alone. How could I show my love freely in front of Mary and Katie?
Once more, Jenny sensed my hesitation.. “Rebecca, look at them, watch them. They’re so into each other. They don’t care if we see them. Why should we be any different?”
And I did watch. God, I’d never seen the like. I’d never watched porn, and I had no experience of my own. But those two — their hands exploring, groping, their passion so clearly building. Katie arched her back, and just as I thought, “Fuck she’s going to come,” she began to shake, slowly at first. Then she went mad, and she cried out. The thought that a twelve-year-old could come so hard made me look back at Jenny.
“Do you come like that?” I asked.
“Why don’t you find out?” she said.
Her lips descended on mine once more. I knew already that I loved her kisses — tender one moment, passionate the next — and I didn’t resist when she plucked at my clothes. Her hand found its way in and over my tits. She very deftly lifted and pushed my bra up, and then, at last, she was squeezing my naked breast.
I had caressed them myself many times, but now it was the young girl I adored who was touching me, her expert fingers arousing new feelings of sheer pleasure. My nipples grew stiff and erect, and I forgot my shyness, reaching down to pull my top free. Jenny saw what I was trying to do and sat up on her knees. She had her own top off even as I was still struggling. For a moment I stopped, my eyes glued to her budding breasts, the little beauties I had waited to see for so long.
Finally, my bra came off with my top, and Jenny smiled down at me. “Fuck,” she said. “You have great tits.”
She reached for them, but before she could take hold, I grabbed her and rolled her off me onto her back. She lay there, grinning up at me. “That’s nice,” she said. “Do what you want.”
Self-consciously, I put a hand to one of her little tits, softly caressing it, watching the pink circle harden and crinkle. I lowered my head, and she gave a little jump at the first contact of my lips. “Yes,” she said quietly. Then I had her in my mouth, sucking my young lover’s nipple.
I felt her pushing her hand between us. Naturally, I thought she was going to touch me there. But instead, I felt her fumbling and realised she was unfastening her shorts and trying to push them down her legs. Without any thought, I helped her pull them partway down. Then she took my hand and drew it between her legs. That’s when I found she wasn’t wearing panties. My hand went straight onto her hot, damp slit.
“Play with my pussy,” she demanded. “God, I want it so much!”
I had to look. I had only seen it from afar, watching in delight and frustration as she’d matrubated under her desk. I wanted to see my own fingers touch her there and open her up. I eased myself further down her body and marvelled as I traced a finger along her slit. She smiled and blew me a kiss when I glanced up for a moment, and I went back to admiring her sex.
I pressed lightly, and my finger sank into her. Until that moment, I hadn’t realised just how wet she was. I went in so easily, searching for, and finding, her vagina, penetrating her warmth. I couldn’t believe it: I was exploring my baby’s pussy. Then I felt her pushing up, pressing against my touch. “Fuck me,” she said. “Don’t be gentle. Use all your fingers.”
The words would have shocked me before, but now they just inflamed my desire. Her hands came down, and her fingers spread her lips. She was about to show me her clit. And there it was, larger than I expected. Actually, it was bigger than my own.
She was expecting me to do something — something I’d never done and wasn’t sure I knew how to do. But, taking a deep breath, I bent my head over her, pausing for a moment as I got close. The thick scent made me dizzy. God, it was beautiful. I leaned in and kissed her, right on her bud. She squirmed and mewed with pleasure. My lips parted, and I savoured her taste. Not very different from my own, though much stronger.
I only had a vague idea of what I was doing, but my instincts told me to keep fucking her pussy whilst my lips and tongue played with her clit. Her hips had begun a rolling motion, and I moved with her, timing my licks and thrusts.
Absorbed as I was, I heard Mary give a slowly building wail. Jenny reached out to her, and they held hands. Jenny’s body stiffened, and she clutched my head as she lifted her bum off the ground.
Her moan was music to my ears. My wonderful young love was about to come, and I was the one bringing her to it. The moan became a squeal that ended in my name: “Rebecca! — Oh shit it’s so damn fucking good!” She screamed my name again and began to shake. Her body fell back to the ground as her knees came up and my head was in her vise-like grip as she came and came.
Her legs fell away, and the hand tangled in my hair released its grip. My jaw was stiff. I rubbed it, looking up at her in awe. Such a magnificent climax, I thought, as I crawled up to cuddle her. Her face was a picture of happiness. I kissed her cheek and whispered, “I love you, baby.”
She only half opened her eyes. “I know you do, and I love you. I have for so long.”
I sensed the eyes upon us, then saw both Mary and Katie with huge grins on their faces. “You know you’re part of the family now?” said Mary. She moved towards us and began to unfasten my skirt.
“Mary, what are you doing?”
“Just getting you ready for Jenny, that’s all. Because it’s your turn now, and besides, I’ve been waiting to see your ass.”
I felt myself turning red, my cheeks burning, but I looked at Jenny when I felt her hands on my breasts. Suddenly I didn’t care who saw, whether they watched or not. I just wanted my Jenny to love me.
For a while, I was aware that they were watching, but then they turned back to each other, as Jenny made the most beautiful love to me. She knew how to take me to heights of passion and hold me there, driving me mad for release, yet keeping it just out of reach.
I was ready to beg for her to stop, when she suddenly moved up a gear. My climax was almost instantaneous, earth-shattering in its intensity. I had no idea that I could feel this way as the orgasms came, one on top of the other. I had read that some women see stars or flashes of light. I saw it all and more.
I was spent, and yet filled with such wonder. My angel was the supreme mistress in the art of lovemaking, and twelve bloody years old! It was as true as it was unbelievable.
For a while, all I could do was hold her in my arms, until she whispered. “Are you hungry yet?”
We ate our picnic lunch and drank some wine, all of us naked. I could feel the bond that now existed between the four of us. So it was with no shyness or reserve that I joined Jenny again when she asked if I wanted dessert. She showed me ways of making love that I had never imagined. I wasn’t even shocked when she first touched my tight rosebud before she kissed me there, and her tongue aroused such lewd thoughts and feelings that I returned the favour without conscious thought.
***
When I got home after a somewhat shaky drive, I poured myself a stiff brandy, and sat and pondered on the day. I imagined I could still feel her touch. My body was still tingling. God, I wanted her again.
My phone rang, breaking into my thoughts. It was her. “Are you thinking about me, sexy?” she asked.
“Jenny, you can’t begin to know what I’m feeling right now.”
“Well, I hope it’s your lovely pussy that you’re feeling. I’m feeling mine.” I was searching for the right answer, but she wasn’t finished. “Rebecca, a serious question. Are you okay with what happened? No regrets?”
I gasped. “Regrets! Oh my God no, Jenny. I’m so very, very happy.”
“So, you want to see me again, and I don’t mean in class?”
“Tomorrow, same time, same place?” I answered.
“Oh, yes, please.” She paused a moment before adding, “Just you and me this time.”
The End