Tango for Two

Hand in hand, the pair of students leave the after-school club and walk quickly through the gathering September dusk. You might have thought they were eager to get home for tea, but this afternoon tea is not the foremost item on their agenda. Turning on to a tree-lined road they pass alongside a high stone wall. At the end of the wall a wrought-iron gate stands ajar; they slip inside and move together close along the inside of the wall. The grass silences their footsteps and a collection of tall bushes hides their progress from any prying eyes. Reaching a corner of the wall, they stop and briefly embrace each other; a token gesture to custom and tradition. The boy whispers urgently in the girls ear: "Have you saved a wee for me?" "Yes, I have; and I've been busting all afternoon."  Lifting up the skirt of her school uniform she pulls aside the crotch of her knickers. Parting her legs and bending her knees slightly, she lets go a powerful stream. It curves out from her stocking clad thighs and cascades down on to the grass, with a soft splashing sound. Her male companion bends over her, intently watching her performance, leaning close in hope to catch a glimpse of the streams precise point of exit. He extends a hand into the warm flow, spattering it. Squeezing her cunt shut, she halts the cascade, impatiently pushing his intrusion aside; "Don't do that, you're wetting my stockings!" Released, her flow starts again, a strong coherent jet spurting out from her open pee-hole, its passage freed by the crooked fingers holding open the crotch of her panties. It continues unabated for half a minute or more, before finally falling off into a slow dribble. Meantime he, thwarted in his original intention, slowly unzips his fly and takes his rigid member in hand, pointing it out towards her and gently stroking its full length. As her flow comes to a complete stop, she adjusts her panties and smooths her skirt; then she pulls him to her, eyes on his stiff cock."My God, its big, Im sure its grown bigger since we started doing it." By doing it she is referring to the game they had invented and had been playing together since the beginning of term. Ever since the afternoon when she had glanced across the classroom during a particularly tedious period of maths and spotted him touching himself under his desk. She had confronted him after the lesson: "I saw what you were doing with your thing; you had a hard-on.""Anything to take my mind off of that boring old lecture.""Did you you know, jack off?""Grief, no; not under the desk! I just got it up and all ready to go, like. Anyway, you shouldn't have been looking.""I'd love to watch a man doing it. Can I watch you? Aren't you going to finish it off, anyway?""I would if I had somewhere to do it." Being a privileged school monitor, she fortuitously held the key to a stationery cupboard, and it was to there she had quickly led him, locking the door once inside. She looked him straight in the eye."Go on, then; do it for me." His tool sprung to instant attention in his hands; as he began his familiar stroking action, she pulled him closer to her. One hand went around him and clasped a buttock, squeezing hard; the other was pressed tight against her leg through the rough cloth of her school skirt. The performance was not unfamiliar to either of them (she did have full internet access!), but its circumstance was new to both. And both intently watched as, though deliberately slow at first, his movement rapidly quickened. Sticky spurts emerged soon enough from the tip of his cock, white gobbets of hot come arced across the wooden floor and spattered down the filing cabinet opposite. Since that first encounter, the adolescent pair had managed to meet several times as term progressed, at secluded places in and around the school buildings. Twice more in the convenient stationery cupboard; once after school in a cubicle of the girls lavatories, she peeing and he ejaculating simultaneously into the bowl in an illicit erotic harmony; one time in the games rooms and once in the equipment room of the gym. Outside, he had once turned to the wall of the groundsman's shed, she keeping lookout while he left a tell-tale deposit of creagoogoo running down its wooden slats. This however is their first encounter beyond the school grounds; the evenings are now dark enough to offer small chance of their being seen in the open, and there is scant risk here of being surprised by either fellow-pupils or vigilant staff. She reaches out a tentative hand:" Can I do it this time?" "Yeah, if you want; but do it slow, make it last a bit." He was afraid that her untutored fingers would cheat him of his customary delicious anticipation, his deliberately delayed orgasm. Her fingers clasp firmly around his stiff shaft. His arm slides around her, its hand rising to the soft mound of her budding breast; the nipple is hard under his palm. Obedient to his wishes, her fingers brush only lightly over the shaft, in slow gentle strokes, feeling the throbbed response. Her arm trembles, her hand becomes unsteady; a poorly-controlled stroke runs too close against the hard tip; he jerks back, his come was closer than either of them had thought."No, stop! Dont finish me off yet.""Sorry.. . Ill leave it perfectly still for a bit." Her fingers wrap themselves around him, tighter but unmoving this time; his cock pulsates urgently in their grip. A drop of moisture oozes from the tip-hole; she scoops it up on the end of a finger, applies it to her tongue. Tastes salty. They hold their breaths in a silent pause as the evening closed around them. "More now? OK, but be careful. I'm nearly there."  Her touch is feather-light, but slowly her fingers creep further along the stiffened length of his shaft. He fights hard to hold his climax back, just a little bit longer, relax, he breaths to himself, biting his lips; but by now she is as well into it as he, and can no longer control her own urge. His free hand closes on her nipple, pinching hard. He lowers his head to her neck and buries it in her hair, whispers loudly in her ear: Yes, now!! Pulling the loose foreskin tight up against the cock head, she grips and rubs and strokes, hard and fast. He stifles a groan, she a gasp. His seed spurts out through the still air in white gobs, three, four, five shining shots; they both hold still as it lies cooling on the grass. Spent, they walk home, good nights at her front door, while he has only a few more minutes to gain his own. All evening, he remembers the feel of a hard nipple in his palm, and the surprising and unexpected dig of a sharp fingernail into his foreskin. Somehow, he feels, this evening has subtly undermined his manly pride. On her part, her right tit still tingles from his touch, and she recalls the sudden clenching of his buttock at orgasm. Later that night, lying in her bed, masturbating herself to sleep, she has a sense of triumphant satisfaction; she had actually made a man come. Dimly she knows that she has passed a milestone between girl and womanhood.