A Dream Is A Wish....

  Alice.  Alice was very up herself. She came from a very rich family, and she really thought she was a cut above the rest of us. This made me feel somewhat aggressive towards her. I’d love to see her taken down a peg or three. That said, she was just a girl....a girl who, sometimes when I was alone in th changing rooms having skipped Pys Ed (again) I would find her panties and maybe use them for masturbation purposes. That room saw more girls masturbating in it than it ever saw wannabe athletes! I got off on the knowledge that however haughty Alice was, her cunt got wet just like mine, and she wasn’t any different to me.  This has now  morphed into some lovely sexy dreams. Here’s one. I’m masturbating, alone, in the changing room. I’ve got Alice ‘s panties and I’ve put them on. I love having her pussy against mine, and I’m really getting off knowing that she will put these back on after games, and unknowingly my cunt will be mingling with hers. The door opens. It’s Alice! She takes in what I’m doing and is furious! Still, attack is the best form of defence and I go for her. We slap at each other and she trips. I’m on top of her now and pinning her hands to the floor above her head. She’s wriggling underneath me, but I realise the nature of the wriggling has changed. Instead, she’s thrusting. I get first one knee then another between her thighs. Almost immediately, she brings her knees up and crosses her ankles behind my back. I dry hump her, and she cums into her hot, sweaty sports panties. To complete her humiliation, I kneel over her face, and pee through her panties. Finally. I stand, take them off and drop them, still dripping onto her. As I leave the room, I see her put them on. Sister Angela ​​​​​​​Yes, I had a crush....actually more than one. I had crushes with nuns and monks. Sister Angela was only with us for a term but she was far and away the youngest nun I’d ever seen. How old? Seriously I don’t know, mid/late 20s? That’s what she looked like anyway. And fuck, what she pretty! I used to imagine her in her cell at night, masturbating in the dark, or naked under her habit! Which led to.... ...I’m looking for an empty classroom to skip a totally unnecessary divinity lesson. Vertas, they called it. Catholic brainwashing I called it. So, I find an empty room, it’s on the top floor, right at the end of a corridor, and just what I’m looking for. I open the door and walk in....and I glance into the stock room. Sister Angela is standing there, her eyes tightly shut, her habit up round her waist, and she is furiously masturbating. She is so wrapped up in what she’s doing, she didn’t hear the door. I walk in, and shut the store room door behind me. The click makes her open her eyes. She stammers all kinds of apologies,  ut it’s too late. I’ve seen what I’ve seen...I know what I know.  There are two variations in the Dream now.... a)...I sit in the chair, spread my legs and pull my panties aside. “Fucking lick me.” She kneels, crosses herself and applies that beautiful mouth to my cunt. b)...she is furious! Livid! She spins me round, bends me over the desk, flips my skirt up high and reaches for the cane. I feel it’s bite once, twice, three times, four times. And they’re hard, vicious strikes too. I feel something run down my left thigh on the outside. Blood? The fifth stroke brings a change. It hurts, but I want more....much more. Sister Angela puts the cane down and runs her hand over my ass. It comes away bloody. She shows me. Now there is an additional source of wetness. Her hand goes back, but this time over my panties between my legs. She leans in close. I can smell her light, fresh breath, but what comes from her mouth as she rubs me is anything but nun-like. “You fucking little cunt! You keep your mouth shut, bitch, or this punishment will seem like a gentle telling off.” She jabs her fingers into me, breaking my hymen.” Yes! Explain that to your parents. You think they’ll ever believe little sister Angela popped your cherry? Now, cum bitch! Fucking cum on my fingers.” The mixture of pain and pleasure blends into one, and yields a tremendous orgasm.  Brother Micheal. ​​​​​​​All the girls knew Brother Michael. Oh yes. He was a dirty minded pervert. Easily in his late fifties, he lost no opportunity to look up our skirts, or down our tops. And some of us deliberately teased him. Ever seen an elderly monk trying to hide a hardon under his habit? Trust me, it’s fucking hilarious! We suspected in the summer he didn’t wear anything under it either. He was a lech.....but..... ......I saw him turn the corner of the corridor and walk towards me just when I had no opportunity to change direction myself. I saw his ingratiating smile, and something under his ribs that had nothing to do with the rosary at his belt. Shit! He greets me, and asks if everything is going well. I tell him it is. He asks me to accompany him into his study. It smells of pipe tobacco in there and old leather. Actually, it’s quite pleasant. There is a faint after hint of incense too which I’ve always loved. He invites me to sit, while he perches on the desk, a really old, heavy, leather topped oak thing. Again, he asks me how things are going. I’m leaving in a couple of weeks, and he tells me he likes to make sure his students are ready for the outside world.  I decide to engage myself in a little monk teasing. So I sit in that gawkish was schoolgirls can, my knees open just enough for him to get the tiniest flash of panty. I see it has an almost immediate effect. It’s the first time I’ve been this close to him. For a celebrate monk, what he has under that robe is impressive...at least to an 18 year old virgin anyway. The mood in the room shifts slightly. Now I am in Control. I stand, and brush, my hand lightly over the growing tumescence. “Actually, brother, there is something you can help me with. I’m not at all sure I want to enter the world intact....as a virgin. I’d rather give my cherry to someone...mature....to someone who will take it gently.” He stands, and cups my right breast with his hand. “Take off your panties, child” he says in his rich, soft voice. A voice that has been in the cloister all its life. I do so and he takes them from me, dropping the, into his desk drawer.  He bends me forward over the desk, but peripherally, I see him hitch his brown habit up to reveal a monsterous dick! At least 12 inches. It glistens and drips presumably from the tip. He is as wet as I am. He holds my hips and positions himself behind me. Part of me wonders what the hell I was thinking encouraging this randy old perv, but part of me wants this more. He pushes inside me in one agonising, yet unspeakably erotic thrust. I feel the pain of myself tearing, yet the feeling of fullness, of eroticism far outweighs the pain. He fucks me. In and out, full length thrusts, each one seems to explore a slightly different area inside me. “Touch yourself.” Comes the order. I reach between my legs and find my clit. I’m closer than I thought. I hope he cums inside me, dangerous though that is since I’m not on birth control. He pulls out, and in the same, self-assured, confident manner, simply slips his,length into my ass. Some girls say they’ve done this...most say it hurts like fuck...this doesn’t. Maybe he’s so wet from me...from us....either way, the perversity of him fucking me in the ass makes me orgasm. He delays his own climax until mine subsides, and them I feel him emptying his load into my ass, which makes me cum a second time.  The real Brother Michael was a dirty lech who should never have been near kids in school...and especially not girls. In reality, the semi he regularly carried with him had stained his habit, and he smelled of sperm.  Its strange how the mind locks onto things, and turns them around, isn’t it? Sister Alice would no more have caned a girl than crucified Christ a second time. She was kind, demure and would blush hideously if a girl asked her any question to do with sex. Since she taught us human biology, it was a cruel posting for her. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t stay too long.