Kate - a High School Memory + Fantasy

Kate. 

Oh how her mum hated us when we called her daughter Kate and not Catherine. ‘Sure, isn’t she named after St Catherine, ye little feckers!” Nevertheless, she was Kate because that’s what she preferred. 

So, Kate, then. Tall, jet black hair and green eyes that you could easily die for. She had ‘b’ boobs which made her the envy of the entire itty-bitty-tittie-committee. Well, we envied her, but not in a nasty way. She also had perfectly proportioned hips, and a small triangle of perfectly trimmed pubic hair…and she didn’t just trim for shape, Kate trimmed for…er….depth as well. (Does that even make sense?) By that I mean that she kept it trimmed close to her body as well as ensuring not a single hair was between her legs. Like all of us, she had experienced the horror of pubic hair+periods+pads. 

I’d seen her naked many, many times in the locker room and in the showers, and she was one of the girls who washed between her legs after PE perhaps a little longer - and more vigorously than was strictly necessary. There was an unwritten code that “more than three wipes is a wank” among us. Well, Kate didn’t give a flying fuck for that and used to really go at it. Now, I can’t say I ever saw her orgasm, but then again, she might have been adept at hiding it..after all, many of us knew how to have a cheeky cum in class and hide it, so who knows? 

Kate was in my friendship group and I had many sleepovers with her - both as just me and with others. Kate was always ready to talk about her sexual experiences. Oh, don’t misunderstand me…we were all technically virgins at the time, but you can be a virgin and do quite a few things yourself! 

I remember one night very clearly. Kate was sharing my bed and she clearly wanted to talk about masturbation. She told me how she did it, and where..and how often. Frankly I didn’t believe it when she said she masturbates at least once a day every day, and often two or three times. At the time I wondered if anyone could be that horny….and then I realised that actually, if I added it all up, if anything, I was doing it more than she was! I just didn’t keep count. 

Kate, I know without doubt, masturbated beside me during every sleepover. I felt the movement of the bed, and I heard the little sighs as she came in her undies. I wasn’t brave enough to join in, but oh, I desperately wanted to. 

Kate would sometimes ask me to say the dirtiest words I knew. When she whispered this into the darkness, I knew she had a hand between her legs and was going for it. All she wanted to tip her over the edge was to hear some dirty words. I obliged, of course…I mean…why not? So I’d roll over onto the side nearest her and just whisper, “cock….fuck…arsehole…..cunt…” it usually was ‘cunt’ that did it for her. She always offered to return the favour, but I never masturbated with Kate. I have no idea why not.

The fantasy

Kate and I were getting ready for bed. This meant just stripping down to our panties. Although I’d seen her naked many, many times, seeing her in just her undies was more exciting to me. I made a mental note to try and find her panties the next time I skipped PE. (In fact one day I did use her panties to get myself off…it was utter heaven.) Kate and I slipped under the covers. (So far, this is reality….but now….)

I feel the bed beginning to move slightly. I know what she’s doing, but this time, I shock myself by asking. “Kate…are you wanking off?” Her answer is shaky, tremulous. “Yeah….fuck, but I’m horny, Anna. I’m so feckin’ wet, look.” She holds two fingers up and the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains makes her fingers glisten. I reach out and hold her wrist. She thinks it’s just so I can see better, or for longer, but I draw her hand to my mouth and suck the two wet fingers deeply. “Feckin’ he’ll, Anna. Are you a feckin’ Les?" 

I role onto my side. “Yes, Kate. I’m a fucking Les…and right now, all I want is your cunt.” I place the flat of my hand on her tummy, and slowly move south. She doesn’t attempt to stop me, and my finger tips slip effortlessly under the waistband of her panties. I find that her statement about being ‘feckin’ wet’ is, in fact an understatement. It feels like a whole bottle of olive oil has been poured into her undies. Everything is slippery. My fingers find her clit and she gasps. 

There’s no way, though, that this is going to be one sided. I kneel up in bed, and use both my hands to take her panties off. (She doesn’t know it, but I’m going to keep these). Then, awkward as it is in that position of kneeling, I take mine off too. I lean over her, spreading her legs wide as I can I bend forward slightly. “Are you going to…..kiss me…there?” A reply forms in my mind, but it’s very different to the one that emerges from my mouth. I was thinking of asking her if that’s ok, but Miss Brain is way ahead of me. ‘I’m going to suck your wet, juicy cunt….and you’re going to cum in my mouth.” I don’t wait for consent, I lean in and begin running my tongue around the divinely wet and perfectly scented folds. 

Her arms are by her sides, and it simply won’t do! I stop my oral exploration of her sex for a moment to tell the hand nearest me and push it between my legs. “Finger me.” Kate protests “I’ve never touched another girl…I don’t know if I’m like that.” I burst out laughing. “You’re letting another girl suck your cunt, you fucking bitch…now, finger my cunt.” 

As soon as she touches my labia I feel the rush of an approaching orgasm. Hmm…why so quickly? I’m horny, yes, but even so, I rarely feel like I could cum so rapidly. What’s different? Miss. Brain supplies the answer. It’s not that she’s touching me, it’s the way she’s touching me. It’s hesitant…explorative….and, and yes,….innocent. It’s virginal. 

My lips find her clit and the fingers of my right hand find her hole. It’s tight, but then it would be, but her hymen is long gone…probably to a hairbrush handle I’m guessing…two fingers slip inside her and I feel two fingers of hers dip deep into my hole. 

She tenses, and I know she’s trying to hold back. Well, that’s easily fixed. I let a finger graze lightly over her bum hole, and it wrenches her cum from deep inside. In that moment, mine bursts from within me, and, as usual, I squirt. Kate has never experienced this before. Not only is mine the first vagina other than hers that she’s touched, although she gets copiously wet, she doesn’t squirt. I do. Kate is both appalled and thrilled. 

PS

Oh, how I wish this had happened. So many missed opportunities….or were there? I know without doubt that Kate masturbated beside me many times, but that doesn’t mean it was an invitation. I’d love to think it was, but I simply wasn’t attuned enough when this happened to know….and making the wrong call would have been social suicide! Girls can be savagely cruel, and if I had tried to do something with her and she didn’t want it, I would have been labelled a ‘feckin’ dyke’ or worse for the rest of my school days. It happened to a couple of girls during my time there and the punishment was relentless. 

So, I wish it had happened as above. Sexual emergence is, like all beginnings, a delicate time, and there are endless opportunities to mess up. Also, there is gross unfairness too. A boy who has had a lot of sex is a ‘stud’, while a girl in the same position is a ‘slut’, or ‘easy’. But for sheer cruelty, you need to be among girls. We can be tremendously bitchy. Take the girl in my year who had truly massive boobs. Oh that poor girl! We teased her to the point that her parents withdrew her from the school. Like I said, girls can be awful to one another. 

One last thing. Briefly, I will tell you about Charlotte or ‘Charlie’. One day, in our little panty-flashing group sitting on the school field, Charle said “I’m bi. I had sex with a girl last night.’ She wouldn’t say who, and we almost missed this short, one line confession amid the filth we were talking. (Oh, how we loved those lunchtimes…the air around us was blue with the dirt we were talking - all designed to see who was the filthiest, and maybe also, all designed to turn us all on.) Charlie just coming out with it like that pre=emoted us finding out about it, and therefore we had nothing to tease her about. We knew, and we knew because she herself told us. Far from us teasing her, she became something of an icon. She had ‘done it’ with about, and now, here she was having ‘done ot’ with a girl too! 

Oh we all pretended we’d be broad minded enough to go with it if the opportunity to have a little g/g came around, but only one or maybe two of us would. (Me, for example) So Charlie was peppered with questions. “Did you kiss….did you finger her….did she finger your…did you go down on each other…?” Suddenly Charlie was the teacher, and we, eager, wide-eyed students. 

Yes, sexual beginnings are indeed delicate times, and it’s sad when they are corrupted or derailed - by fucking nuns making something unspeakably beautiful seem unspeakably evil.