If I let you? Would you?

How would I be dressed? The ‘innocent’ schoolgirl, or the worldly-wise whore? Or somewhere in between. You pick the outfit for me. Dress me in your mind. 

How would I appear to you? Innocent and fresh-faced? Or perhaps more sultry. 

Would I be virgin or not? 

Would I be familiar with the more perverse sexual activities, or willing to learn them? 

If you’re male.

Perhaps I’d be for you to seduce. Could you feel us getting closer, until the odd touch occurs. Perhaps you flick my hair out of my eyes, perhaps I lay a hand on your knee. Would our faces get closer until, in utter silence, our heads tilt for that first, oh so tenuous kiss that will make or break what happens next?

Amid our kissing, would I feel your hand on my knee? Would I feel the slightest pressure between them as if you’re asking my consent? What if I slowly relaxed my thighs so that as your hand travels up between them, you feel me granting you access every inch of the way. Perhaps I’d feel you hesitate just before you get to my panties, unsure whether you should take those last few millimetres? What if I took the decision and moved slightly so your hand touched the warm, moist material. 

My hand would find your bulge so easily, wouldn’t it? I would unzip you so carefully because I know that zippers carry danger! I also know that undoing a zipper can cause an over-excited man (especially a teenager) to blow his load before we even get started….but that’s no bad thing. I hold you firmly in my hand. You are hot and hard. I break our kissing and move my mouth down. Engulfing you in my mouth is logical. Yes, I know you’ll cum. I want you to cum in my mouth, that way, when you fuck me, you’ll last much longer. 

You strip me now, somewhat clumsily if I’m being honest, and we are both naked. You climb on top of me and I spread my willing legs for you. I feel you enter me and we fuck. All we care about is reaching that peak again. 

Or perhaps it’s different. Perhaps you’ve got me in your lounge. You’ve stripped me naked, and you’ve gone down on me. Perhaps, your wife or girlfriend is watching. Perhaps she is gently masturbating as we make love. 

Perhaps she can’t endure the sight any longer and walks towards us. What if she knelt over my face? What if I licked her…the first time another girl has done that. Maybe, she’s wondered since her teenage years what it would be like with another girl? Would you have the mental strength to simply withdraw from me? She would look at your cock glistening with my wetness. Maybe she would give it a tentative kiss, but then she would look between my legs before slowly, gently, lowering her head to lick me out. 

What if you then had her from behind, exploding your cum inside her, and what then if she squatted over my mouth and let me swallow your semen directly from her vagina? 

And if your a girl.

How would it be, I wonder. Suppose you are disgusted at the thought of girl/girl sex. Suppose all your life you had been taught how perverse it is, how evil, possibly. Yet you’ll have seen countless girls naked, won’t you? Locker rooms aren’t built for privacy. You’ll have seen the ‘boobs ‘n’ pubes’ and you’ll have wondered if she’s ‘done it’ yet. You’ll have seen girls in the showers, most washing hastily between their legs, but everyone in your class knew of the girls who washed there just a tad too long for decency’s sake. And the lewd remarks that followed. “Leave it alone Tracy!” And did your own clit jump in response? 

Or maybe you want to try sex with another girl but just haven’t worked out how to set it up. 

So, we meet. We get on well, and we become friends. We exchange intimate details, as girls tend to do. When I tell you I’m bisexual, your eyes widen, and your deepest, darkest secret comes out. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like with another girl.” The conversation hangs there, because we’re late. We are going to a cinema to see a film. 

It was a fairly raunchy movie with the hero seducing the heroine, and the lovemaking scenes were quite explicit. Back at your home, the storm builds to intensity and news reports of trees coming down and dangerous roads make the decision for us that I’ll stay the night. 

But there’s only your bedroom in this tiny, one bedroomed flat. The power goes off and with it the heating. No choice now, we will both share your bed. Once snuggled under the duvet we talk about the movie once more…..”Do you remember when he….” “Did you see the look on her face when he….” Back and forth, each one of us recounting a scene, until you say “…and when he kissed her boob like that….oh my God….he did it just like I enjoy being kissed and nibbled like that.” As a joke, I lean over. “You mean when he did this….”

I lean over and suck your left nipple through your t shirt. You stiffen and give a long, sibilant hiss…..”ohhh….stop…..stop or I’ll cream my panties.” Naturally I don’t stop. Nor do you want me to. I make no attempt to touch you, I just keep mimicking what we saw in the movie. 

“I…..I want to touch myself.” I break contact just long enough to whisper “Like this?” My hand slips under your waistband and I find your smooth mound. You’re so wet already. Delicious. I find your clit erect, and inwardly rejoice when I feel your legs open. I return to your boob, but find to my delight that you’ve pulled the t shirt out of the way. I resume my kissing, sucking and nibbling while my fingers rub your clit. After a few moments I say “Do you remember the scene when he went down on her? He just disappeared under the duvet and the look on her face. What if the actors did it for real?” I begin to kiss down your body, knowing that you’ll stop me if it’s too much for you.

But you don’t stop me. I kiss down, down and further down, slipping your panties off as I go. Soon, I’m lapping at your sex, and not long after, you cum in my mouth. 

Maybe then there’s some hesitation. “Should I…..er…do you want me to….” Lots of disjointed non-sequiturs. I give the only response possible. “Only if you want to.” Your hands roam over my body. You touch my breasts, and gently feel down into my panties. How long, I wonder? Minutes? Hours? I feel your fingers pushing inside me. “Finger me like you enjoy being fingered.” That’s the key really, “do unto others, as you wish they would do unto you.” You finger me delightfully, finding my g-spot and pummelling it mercilessly. I’m not even aware of you moving, but suddenly, your mouth is on my sex, and your tongue is working its divine magic. 

But there’s a problem. I know I will squirt. The orgasm is racing towards me, closer and closer and closer. I almost blurt out “I squirt”. It’s as if you haven’t heard me. Finally, I can’t hold the beast back any longer and I cum. I feel myself squirting, and I hear you swallowing. Wow! Who’d have thought that? 

We lie in one another’s arms, kissing softly, tasting our sex on the other’s lips. 

Or perhaps it’s something different. We are younger…much younger….the first flush of puberty has passed and we are into adolescence proper. We are both 16, and at a sleepover at my home. We lie in my bed together naked, and feeling very grown up that we didn’t mind seeing each other without clothes, and more grown up yet, we had decided that it was such a hot night, we didn’t need t shirts or panties. 

We lie next to each other and slowly, the talk dies down…..but sleep doesn’t come. Unbeknownst to one another, sleep hasn’t come because we haven’t cum. You always rub one off before sleep, and so do I. Now we have a problem. If either one of us goes to the bathroom, that’s as good as announcing it, so we’re stuck here, and both our minds then run to the same thought. We’re not like boys. We can wank off with almost no movement. 

You break first, rolling onto your side away from me and slipping your hand between your legs. I know what you’re doing though, and I know one one’s side, legs clamped together is the least sexy of positions. 

Inspiration! I know! I mooch right over to my side of my king-sized bed and then I mimic sleep by snoring softly. Will you take the bait? Ooohhh I so hope so! 

It doesn’t take long. You roll over onto your back, and you push the duvet into a mound between  us, but you don’t know that actually, I can see your entire body. You spread your legs and begin to masturbate again. Since I’m on my back too…so do I. 

At what point do we both become aware that we’re both awake and doing the same thing? I don’t know, but it causes an outburst of the giggles. We kick the duvet onto the floor and giggle for a while but when the stupidity ceases, a new and heavy thing takes its place. You look at me with lust in your eyes, and I return the look. We lean in for a kiss and simultaneously, we reach between one another’s legs. Both virgins, we seem to instinctively know that fingering isn’t allowed. But clit stimulation? That’s another story. I move first. I kneel between your spread legs and lean forward to kiss you, allowing my free hand to cup your breast. I feel your hips begin to gyrate which tells me you’re close. So I urge you on. “Cum for me. Cum on my hand.” It’s all you need and I feel your whole pelvic floor contract and relax, contract and relax. It seems to go on for ever. 

But you don’t rub me off….not directly, at least. As we swap positions, we get in a tangle, and suddenly we are scissoring. The idea they my hole is directly opposite to yours is intensely erotic. We begin, well, I can’t say ‘dry humping’, because we are both really wet. Our lips slide over one another’s and our clits kiss. The feeling is intense. I know I’m going to cum directly inside your hole…..and it feels fucking amazing. If I squirt, and I know I shall, some of me will go inside you. 

The orgasm is gut wrenching. Savage. I feel myself squirt. 

Afterwards, you ask me “umm did you….pee on me?” I reassure you that I didn’t…..that it was just squirt…..but I add “….although actually I wouldn’t mind doing that….or you doing it in me.” The thought hangs in the air. 

We sleep in one another’s arms, waking only to have sex twice more during the night. This time lips and tongues come into play. 

Our morning shower together was…..interesting.