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Masturbating Louise

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Masturbating Louise by Discovery Louise smiled ruefully at her guilty face which was reflected back from the mirror. Well she might be shamefaced, having spent so long admiring her body in her parents' full length mirror. She flattered herself, admittedly with some justification, that she was a sane, sensible girl, not given to inordinate vanity and ridiculous dreams. Nevertheless she couldn't deny that she'd just spent an appreciable amount of time examining her body with self-satisfaction. She'd entered her parent's bedroom that evening with the intention of returning her mother's bubble-bath to their on-suite bathroom. While passing through her attention had been grabbed by her startling reflection. Dressed as she was in bathrobe tied loosely at the waist, having come straight from her bath, she looked ... . Louise wasn't quite sure what word she would choose to describe how she looked this evening. It must be admitted that "stunning", "beautiful", and "sexy", did occur to her, but each was rejected in turn, mainly due to her innate modesty and to a vein of self-depreciation which ran through her nature. Almost any objective observer however, would have been happy to apply all of these words to describe Louise's voluptuous and sensual teenage body, and many of both sexes would probably have added "fuckable" to the list as well. For it could not be denied, even by Louise herself, that by age sixteen, her body had bloomed in a most agreeable way. As she had stood before the mirror, admiring the clear white complexion of her tantalisingly revealed cleavage, and the silky smooth texture of her nicely shaped calves and lower thighs, Louise had been tempted to untie her robe, and let it fall to the floor behind her. Succumbing with alacrity, Louise had stood naked before the mirror. After admiring herself from every side, she had noted with satisfaction the flatness of her stomach, and that her soft blond pubic hair looked a little more substantial than when she'd last examined herself. It had remained a light fuzz for far too long, most of her friends had veritable bushes while her's had remained hardly noticeable, she'd observed to herself on numerous occasions in school changing-rooms. Louise examined her breasts with some concern: she was happy with the size that they were now, slightly more than a handful, but was concerned least they should grow much more, and start to sag. At present there was no sign of such a fate, they stood firm and proud, thrusting jauntily out in front of her. Now, while our imaginary observer couldn't be expected to share Louise's concerns on this matter, no doubt he (or she) would nevertheless, had they existed, have been more than happy to assist her in her examination as she held and weighed her breasts. Inevitably, Louise's fingers brushed her nipples, and, as was their want, they erected themselves. Normally Louise found her nipples exquisitely sensitive, and hated it when they stood proud from their light pink surround, and she could hardly bare touching them. Today however, she was captivated by the sensuality of the vision they formed. There was something essentially sexual about how she looked: her breasts cupped in her hands, her nipples thrusting through her spread fingers, and a healthy flush on her cheeks. Against her normal practice, she touched her nipples deliberately, lightly squeezing them between her fingers. Exquisite sensations darted from them, pleasure being the dominant component of the thrill. Louise was emboldened to press her palms over them, and the resulting sensations caused a deeper flush to rise to her cheeks. Sliding her palms over her breasts was almost too much, and she couldn't help gasping. A little bit frightened by the intensity of the pleasure, Louise stopped then, and let her hands fall to her side. Her nipples were hard now, erect and dark pink, the areolae puckered around them, drawing attention to their saucy boldness. Louise couldn't avoid recognising that she was no longer a girl, she now had a woman's body. `A body men would die for', she whispered to herself, with gentle self-mockery. It was at this stage that she'd caught her own eye and had smiled ruefully. Picking up her robe, she slipped it on. Her parents were out and they wouldn't get back for a couple of hours yet, having gone out for a romantic meal, but she didn't have the house to herself. Her pesky brother was around somewhere, probably in his bedroom playing video-games, but she could guarantee that it would be just at the time that she decided to dart between bedrooms naked, that he would emerge from his messy kingdom. He was two years younger than she was, and so had already entered that most disagreeable of phases that all male adolescents go through. Their thinking, feelings, and attitudes were all equally, utterly, in-comprehensible to Louise. At least, she assumed that they passed through it; there were still enough jerks in her class at school who delighted in bothering her to make that assumption questionable to say the least. As she entered her bedroom, Louise reflected that it was only today that the horrible Andrew Manchester had sat on her desk, cracking gum in that smug self-assured way that he had, and had assured her that she was "drop dead gorgeous" and would she like him to show her "heaven" behind the Sports Hall at lunch time? Fat chance with a slime-bucket like that! What could he be thinking to think that such an approach would work! Who in their right mind would be attracted by such macho-shit? After he'd gone back to his seat, she and Amy Marshall, her best friend who sat next to her in most classes, and who had overheard everything, had cracked up with giggles. Not very "cool", but it had relieved the tension. Louise put on Madonna's "Erotic" CD, before sitting down at her dressing table to brush out her long hair. This nightly chore of brushing out her hair was often performed to the strains of her latest purchase. The lyrics, suggesting the desirability of hands running all over her body, made Louise aware that her nipples were still half erect and sensitive, and that that her vigorous brushing was causing them to chaff on her robe. The sensations were not unpleasant, indeed, she soon found herself twisting slightly to increase the friction. Leaving her hair with only a perfunctory brush, Louise opened her robe, admiring again her silky white breasts with their torrid pinnacles. With engrossed fascination, she watched her reflection as she lifted and pushed her breasts together. Her cleavage deepened, looking like a buxom wench in a medieval movie, Louise noted to herself with wry amusement. However, the sexiness of this vision was not lost on her. Indeed a rather lewd thought occurred to her which, after only a relatively brief struggle, overcame her qualms. Acting on it, she quickly licked the forefinger of her right hand, and ran it over the tingling nipple of her still prominently offered left breast. The `Oh' that escaped was quite involuntary, as was the flush which quickly rose to her cheeks. After re-licking her finger, together with her thumb, she tentatively encircled the engorged nubbin of pleasure between them. The sensations were intense as the slight pressure was applied, and Louise began to feel hot and sexy in way she'd never experienced before. She'd hadn't realised that her body was capable of producing such feelings! Louise closed her eyes to focus on the pleasure as her slickened fingers worked their magic, unaware that she was parting and closing her thighs in response to a deep primal need. Wetting her left hand similarly, she proceeded to gently squeeze and caress both of her nipples at the same time. Louise was unaware that a soft whimper was forced from her by these unbelievable, and previously un-imagined, thrills. Driven by urgent passion and an instinctive knowledge, Louise pinched her slippery nipples harder than previously, and gasped as her nipples slid through her fingers, and erotic sensations shot through her body, eventually finding a home between her legs. The fire that had been stoked into a red hot furnace between her legs now impinged itself upon Louise's consciousness. She also became aware of the rhythmic rocking of her legs, especially of the stab of pleasure that accompanied each closing swing. Still keeping her eyes closed and her fingers gently pulling and squeezing, Louise consciously controlled the movement of her legs. She quickly discovered that the best results were obtained from spreading wider and clenching tighter. On each outward swing Louise could feel her pussy lips parting, her cunt gaping, and on each inward swing there was that marvellous sensation of folds caressing each other as they came together, rushing towards a slippery embrace of her throbbing clitoris. For yes, Louise could feel that she was getting wet down there. This slowly awakened some curiosity, but it was only slowly, as no thought was travelling fast through Louise's pleasured fogged mind at present. Louise opened her eyes and, catching her reflection in front of her, noted idly how aroused she appeared, as she looked from under passion-drooped eyelids. Reluctantly she stopped her right hand's caresses, ceasing with a last delicious squeeze, she slipped off her robe, and then lowered her hand down between her still rocking legs. Louise had often touched herself between her legs, normally only to wash or to insert a tampon, but occasionally to investigate, however never before had she found herself so wet. Juices from her vagina had flowed freely, coating her puffy labia with a slick film which she felt as her hand reached it destination. Wonder at the workings of her anatomy was cut short however by the thrill which coincided with her closing legs forcing her hand against her clitoris. The involuntary `Oohhh!!!' which the thrill gave rise to was recklessly loud given the proximity of her brother, and his congenital inability to remember to knock before entering her room. However, before Louise could recover enough to realise this, her legs had opened and closed again almost on their own initiative, and the thrill was repeated. Louise was lost. The throbbing of her clitoris had gone into overdrive, and was now almost continuous. Her moans were more regular and slightly quieter, not from design, but from the shallow panting which failed to provide the necessary volume of air for more noise. Louise threw her head back as she continued to squeeze one nipple more roughly than before, and as she rubbed her labia and clitoris with her other hand. She quickly discovered that it was touching that throbbing of button of pleasure that produced the most intense feelings. Such knowledge was destined to be applied, and not to remain an academic curiosity. She wasn't sure how it would end, wasn't sure if she wanted it to end, but she instinctively knew that she needed to throw herself into the growing wave of pleasure that threatened to break over her at any second. Unexpectedly, images of Andrew Manchester arose before Louise as her climax neared. It was his mouth that closed on hers as her fingers rocked on her clitoris, it was his smell that enveloped her, and his tongue which entered her mouth as the wave broke, and Louise arched and sobbed an 'Ahhhhhhh!!' as pleasure racked her frame, and her thighs squeezed her hand hard against her pussy. Within seconds Louise's head had cleared from befuddling passion, and to say that her emotions and thoughts were mixed would be an understatement. She was at once amazed and dismayed: amazed that her body was capable of giving her such pleasure, and that she had never discovered it before; dismayed that her thoughts had turned to Andrew Manchester, and that she had been so noisy. Dismay got the upper-hand, as it was reinforced by doubt, doubt about the correctness of such behaviour. Was it right to enjoy such pleasures? Or was she in some way sinning, or pandering to vanity or .... Louise was just about to settle down into serious self-criticism when she heard her brother's door open. Guessing that he was coming to see her, she quickly put her robe back on, and tried to look natural. She'd hardly succeeded when Michael burst in and said `Hi Sis!', and flopped down on her bed. Louise's reflection told her that she still looked flushed and rather guilty, but Michael was far too wrapped up in himself to notice. He started telling her how he'd just finished watching a great video, a real hack-'em-up-&-watch-their-blood-spurt-everywhere movie. `Shut-up Michael! You know I hate hearing about those kinds of stories', Louise demanded, throwing a nail-file that was at hand at him. She missed. `How did you get it anyway? You know mother will hit the roof if she catches you watching something like that again!', she continued. `She'll never know will she!', explained Michael as though to an idiot, revealing he had totally adopted the doctrine which taught that "if you aren't caught, you aren't guilty". Louise didn't share that view, and had told him why on many occasions, but she didn't feel like arguing with him just now. `Scram, I'm going to bed', she ordered, glad that she had a reason for getting rid of him so quickly, eager as she was to be alone and think over her recent experiences. Michael rose lazily from the bed ... going extra slowly just to annoy her ... and said as he was going out the door, `What you need is a vibrator!' This threw Louise into complete confusion, `How did he know ...? What had he seen ...?', until it occurred to her that the comment had been in response to her crabbiness, and not her recent ... `... "masturbation" I suppose I should call it', concluded Louise to herself. Relief made her smile, but she made a mental note to herself to be more friendly in future ... for although Michael was impossible sometimes, he was still her little brother. Louise slipped out of her robe, slid on her white cotton night-dress, and got in between the clean white sheets. She knew however that sleep was going to elude her until she had time to think through all that had happened. On reflection, she wasn't that surprised with the pleasurable sensations, after all there had to be some reason why people were always going on about sex! She thought a little bit kinder now on some of her fellow pupils who had been sleeping with boys .... if it felt even better than masturbation it must be unbelievable! Not that she'd consider sleeping with anyone apart from her husband. No way whatsoever! It might be old fashioned, and her friends might consider her weird, but she was sure that she was going to be a virgin on her wedding day. She wanted wear her white wedding-dress with pride and a clear conscience. It occurred to her then, for the first time, that it might be hard waiting. This thought, however, she was able to banish quickly. Reader, do not be surprised at this confidence, for as yet our heroine little understands the depths of her own sensuality, and she has yet to experience the horny longings caused by an extended make-out session. Whether her principles will, in the end, withstand her passions is the question which we will hope to see answered, as we follow the awakening of Louise. Louise's thoughts now turned to a more perplexing problem: why had she thought of Andrew Manchester just as she was climaxing? She still felt the same revulsion to him that she'd always felt, although, if she was being totally honest with herself (and that was just what she intended to be), there was a way in which his confidence and self-assurance was rather sexy. The idea of strong arms and assured kisses were potent images to her inexperienced imagination, and coincided with what she was sure her ideal man would possess. Louise also had the self-understanding to realise that subtly, underneath her fury at his approach, she had been more than a little flattered that a hunk that many girls in her class were drooling over was making such a public play for her. Louise played the image she had conjured up earlier of Andrew's kisses over again in her mind. That he would be able to tap that self-confidence of his in his kisses to turn his girl to jelly, Louise had no doubt. She could imagine what it must be like to be held upright by his strong arms, while his drugged kisses made her utterly weak, and dependent upon his strength. The slide from introspective questioning to fantasising was gradual one, and Louise was never conscious of the change. Nevertheless, this didn't stop the fantasies from heating her up in a way she had only experienced for the first time this evening. Louise didn't identify the throb of her clitoris or the ach of her nipples as the cause of her sudden hotness, she only knew that she felt an urge to peel off her night-dress. This she did in one fluid movement: sitting up, pulling it over her, and discarding it on the floor with grace. She felt sinful, delicious, and playful, all at once, as the sheets slid over her body as she moved down the bed again. The rubbing of the sheets over her naked breasts was arousing. Her nipples stood-up to ensure that they got more than their fair-share of any caresses going. Once settled, Louise returned to her fantasy, the energy sapping kisses of Andrew. She remembered that he'd promised her "heaven" behind the Sports Hall, only now, rather than concentrating on the insult, she concentrated on what it might mean. Andrew leaning her back against the Sports Hall wall, freeing a hand that had been supporting her, so that he could cup one of her breasts. As she lay in bed, Louise cupped her left breast, emulating the feel of Andrew's hand. In real-life, as in her fantasy, this brought a murmur of encouragement to her lips. Andrew's large hand squeezed and caressed her breast, and then he ran his thumb over her nipple which was visible even through her bra and blouse. Louise moaned, and incorporated that moan into her fantasy. Thus encouraged, Louise imagined him unbuttoning her blouse, and his hands closing on both her bra clad breasts at once. Louise was beginning to pant from the hotness of her fantasy and from the delicious feelings her hands were eliciting. In her imagination she kissed Andrew harder, and clutched at his broad back, causing him to lose control, and, with masculine impatience, to pull down her bra cups, freeing her breasts, but leaving her bra on, so that it kept them lifted high and thrusting. Her dream felt so real as she imagined his hands closing on her naked breasts. Then he broke their kiss, and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth. Louise emulated this by wetting her fingers with saliva, and using them to caress her nipples. Louise could remember where she had first heard that men like to take a woman's nipple into their mouth and suck on it ... it was in a girly magazine that she'd discovered in her brother's bedroom ... unfortunately he'd turned up before she could study it much, she'd only had time to read one letter. He put a lock on his desk draw after that, and she never got another chance. Nipple sucking like a baby had struck her as silly initially, but she had slowly incorporated it into her beliefs of what "foreplay" must consist of. For a second time that evening, Louise was working herself into quite a state by the manipulation of her hard and sensitive nipples with her slick fingers. Louise's low moan of `uuuooohhh', was a sign that her right hand was now touching her clitoris. This was mirrored in her fantasy by Andrew having slid his hand up her leg, bunching her skirt as it went, and now rubbing her pussy through her panties. Whether our heroine would have gone further with her fantasy at this stage of her awakening and caused her phantom lover to touch her naked cunt, and whether she would have slid one of her own fingers into herself as she masturbated we will, unfortunately, never know, for she was so wet and excited that it took but the briefest of caresses of her throbbing clitoris to bring her to a most satisfying climax. The moaned `ooohhhh ... Aaaahhh' expressed her satisfaction most eloquently. She dropped off to sleep very soon afterwards. Louise's Awakening Pt2 2. Temptation Nothing which would interest us happened to Louise over the following weekend. Indeed our heroine, demonstrating that she deserved the earlier accolade of being "sensible and sane", applied herself with diligence to her homework. While this is an unavoidable past-time for wise heroines of a tender age, describing it in detail would contribute little to our present, purulent, interest in her awakening sexual desires, and so will not be dwelt upon further. Actually we next join Louise on Tuesday, because, due some unaccountable and uninteresting quirk of fate, she'd failed to met her nemesis, Andrew, on Monday. Louise was seated at her desk surprisingly early on Tuesday morning, before Amy had arrived, and before the teacher was due. Andrew came up to her, sat on her desk again, and asked, `Hi gorgeous, been dreaming of me?' As might be imagined, this threw Louise into considerable inner confusion. Andrew was delighted to observe the embarrassed blush which this question brought to Louise's cheeks. He'd been expecting another cool brush-off from the ice-maiden herself, but instead ... this! His ego was such that he readily interpreted Louise's response as indicating that she had been dreaming of him! With surprising cunning, Andrew helped Louise out of her embarrassment, by ignoring her flush, and by changing the subject. Did she know that Mr Powell, the new science teacher had been seen at a night-club with Miss Jenkins, a geography teacher, and that everyone in Miss Jenkins' class reckoned that he was screwing her? Had he continued the old subject, he would have forced Louise to hide her confusion by rejecting him, but in this way, she overcame her confusion and remained in conversation with him. Now, Louise wasn't overly fond of gossiping, but the idea of the glamorous Miss Jenkins, whom all the boys drooled over, and the wimpish Mr Powell being together was too outrageous not to be fascinating news. Hence, she replied, `No! Really?', and Andrew proceeded to assure her that the intelligence was quite trustworthy, coming from Simon Young's brother, who'd seen them himself. Before Louise was really aware of it, she was in conversation with the unbearable Andrew Manchester, and quite enjoying it too! Louise was feeling rather tingly during the whole conversation. Here he was sitting on her desk, larger than life, and, in some undefined way, rather threatening. He was an autonomous person, not a dream phantom under her control, and she was very aware that he was all male. Different. Sexy. Louise's fantasy of him kissing her until she was too weak to stand had come back to haunt her with his first words, and while, with superhuman effort, she'd overcome it well enough to function something like an articulate human being, she hadn't overcome it to the extent that she was free from a constant sexual buzz. She was vibrantly aware of his strong arms and his sensual lips. When he simply asked her if she wanted to go out tonight without his usual macho-postering, Louise found herself saying `Yes' before she was aware. After eliciting this response Andrew went back to his own desk, leaving Louise pondering the wisdom of her reply. While they had been talking the class had been filling up, and most of the pupils were there now. Amy was nearly the last to come in, followed seconds later by the teacher, and the first lesson started before Louise could confide in her. From time to time, throughout the first lesson, Andrew turned to smile and wink at Louise. Each time she could feel colour rising to her cheeks, but was powerless to control her reaction. She felt a tingle of excitement that she simply couldn't analyse. Amy was amazed to detect the silent communications between her friend and someone she had always professed to detest. To Amy's quizzical look, Louise whispered that she'd explain later. Between lessons Amy demanded an explanation, but Louise was unable to articulate her feelings well enough to satisfy her friend ... she didn't really understand them herself so how could she! Amy remained incredulous at Louise's change of heart. Unlike many heroines, Louise didn't spend ages that evening searching through her wardrobe seeking something to wear. She knew exactly what she wanted to wear: her just above the knee skirt, with an "interesting" split at the back, and her orange spotted tight scoop necked t-shirt. This was just the image she wanted: sexy in an understated way. She didn't want Andrew to think she was throwing herself at him, and nor did she didn't want to look frumpy. Admiring the final product, Louise was happy that she had managed to walk that fine line. Louise slipped out, only telling her father that she was going to the youth club to meet Amy and Nicole. He'd asked whether it was wise given that it was a weekday night. She had breezily reassured him that she was up on her homework, and that she wouldn't be too late. Luckily it hadn't been her mother she'd met, for she would have subjected her too a more thorough cross-examination. Such subterfuge was necessary partly because it was a Tuesday night, and partly because she didn't want to face the inevitable questions about a "boyfriend", and even worse, the subsequent teasing that was bound to follow from her brother. Andrew was waiting for her on the street corner that they'd arranged to meet on, and they headed off to Joe's. Joe's was a cafe, a bit of dive really, but it was the favourite meeting place of many school children too young to gain entry into a pub. They ordered cokes, and found an alcove at the far end from the door, up against the wall. Andrew started to kiss Louise almost as soon as they'd seated themselves. His lips pressed closed on hers as he held her head. Louise was a bit put out initially; she had expected some friendly chatting first, a bit more romance, and a more secluded rendezvous. She was aware that any of her school friends might come in at any moment. Nevertheless, her day-dreams had been right in one respect: Andrew knew how to kiss. Before long, her frostiness melting, Louise found herself opening her lips slightly in encouragement to Andrew's probing tongue. Louise found it incredibly exciting as his strong tongue entered her mouth and sought her tongue. It made her feel weak and hot, both at the same time. They broke the kiss to gasp for air, and then continued with more excitement than before. Louise didn't care who saw her: this was intoxicating. Gaining in boldness, Louise tried chasing Andrew's tongue into his mouth with hers. It was exciting probing into his mouth. Louise reached around Andrew and held his back, holding him close to her. A loud `Ahem' brought Joe's crashing back around them. It was Nicole with a bloke in leathers. `Mind if we join you?', Nicole asked with a sparkle. `Of course not', Louise replied instinctively, her good-manners outwitting her selfish desires in a deft move. A blush tried to rise to her face, but she manfully fought it down. 'Nicole this is Andrew. Andrew: Nicole.' she said, making introductions. Nicole introduced her biker friend as `John, her new boyfriend.' Nicole was a bubbly brunette, one year older than Louise, but she was still a good friend of Louise's. Indeed, Nicole was a bit of a role model for Louise, she was very clever, having already secured a place at Cromwell Hall in a nearby University a year early. Nicole and John ordered cokes, and the four of them chatted together for a while as they sipped their drinks. Louise was particularly keen to find out more about John to see if he was good enough for her friend. While they were chatting, under the table Andrew surreptitiously placed his hand on Louise's knee. Her surprised gasp came as she was sipping her drink, and Nicole and John simply assumed she'd choked on the bubbles. Andrew smiled sweetly back at her reproachful glance, and kept his hand on her knee. As they continued to chat, Andrew slowly slid his hand in spurts up Louise's thigh. Her agitation was dampened by the undoubted thrill that his strong hand was producing. It was delicious to feel his hand sliding up under her skirt ... actually it was rucking her skirt up as it rose. Louise could feel her excitement rising, and a flush rise to her face, and his strong fingers traced erotic patterns on her silken thigh. Apart from the trouble of keeping the conversation going, the main worry that she had was that she didn't know if Andrew knew when to stop. Conversation, however, was running smoothly. Somehow Andrew was able concentrate enough to talk about motor-bikes to John with no problem whatsoever. As Andrew's hand rose higher it was pushing her legs apart. Louise clenched her thighs together. There was no way that she was going to let him go any higher. Thwarted, his fingers marked time by moving in the most stimulating of patterns. Louise began to feel quite languid. When Andrew's hand moved up a bit more, Louise found that she was too weak to impede his process; she wanted to, but it felt too nice to stop. Nicole was talking when Andrew's hand moved to just below Louise's pussy. Louise's start went unnoticed, but with complete resolution, alarm bells going off all over her head, she took his hand and placed it lower down her leg. She was not going to allow any boy such liberties. No way! After a suitable interval it began its slow crawl upwards again. Louise was more aroused this time, and succumbed more quickly to the demanding caresses of Andrew's hand. He was running it up the insides of her thighs, touching both legs at the same time. This doubled the thrill, and at the same time, increased the tension: its objective was unmistakable. Louise clenched her legs again, but before long she had allowed her legs to be parted a second time, her passion overriding her better judgement. Not surprisingly Louise was having trouble following the conversation, which lead Nicole to ask solicitously, `Are you okay?'. `Fine thanks. Well actually, I'm a bit tired', Louise extemporised. `Boyfriends are so demanding aren't they? They can be quite exhausting!', Nicole quipped with a sparkle. Louise didn't fail to notice the silent exchange between John and Nicole when she said that, and she realised that there was definite double-entente behind the words. Could they be lovers? Louise didn't pursue this thought, as she was distracted by Andrew's fingers which were moving in intricate patterns on her inner thighs just an inch from her panties. It was very distracting! In fact, she found herself opening her legs wider to encourage him with easier access. She knew she ought to move his hand, but it was so nice, so tempting to leave it there just a few seconds longer. As Louise had secretly hoped, John and Nicole didn't stay long, they were off to a friend's party. Andrew made use of the of their standing up and leaving to advance that final inch. Louise's gasp was lost in the noise of chair legs on the wooden-floor and the background music. In spite of Louise's attempts to act naturally, both John and Nicole thought she looked a little strange as they left her: flushed and bright-eyed, as though she were sickening for something. Louise dared not make any obvious action to move his hand with her friend standing over her to say goodbye, and by the time that they had turned their backs, Andrew's fingers were well into tracing their erotic tattoos over her pantie clad pussy. Her instinctive clenching of her legs did nothing but trap his hand most deliciously against her. His fingers still found a little room to move with devastating effect. They were alone now, and Louise had the freedom to engage in the quiet moans and whimpers that her body was telling her it was so necessary to make, as though they were some safety-value which prevented a dangerous build-up of pleasure which would otherwise drive her insane. The moans didn't travel to any of the other booths, the juke-box music swallowed them up. The pleasure that was washing through her from these caresses was stronger than anything Louise had experienced before. Touching her own pussy was nothing compared with someone else touching her there. Louise was aware that she was very excited, she could feel herself getting wet, wet enough to soak through her panties. The reader may wish to reflect on Louise's chances of maintaining her intention to keep chaste given that it was shame at being so wet, rather than outrage at such liberties that drove her to remove Andrew's hand. Louise accused, with a half-hearted reproach in her voice, `You shouldn't have done that'. Andrew replied, `Why not? You liked it didn't you?'. Louise could feel herself blushing scarlet. `That's not the point, you just shouldn't have!', she rushed on, trying to hide her confusion. Louise was aware that her passion and embarrassment where combining to cloud her thinking, making her words sound inane even in her own ears. Her position was undoubtedly weakened by not being able to take the moral high ground after having let his fingers roam for so long. Andrew was aware that arguing was not going to achieve his aims, and so he said, `Let's not fight', as he reached out and stroked Louise's hair, and then lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Louise was aware that the subject had been changed before she had made him acknowledge her position, but the kiss was sweet, and she found it hard to stay indignant. Furthermore her pussy was still aroused, and this was acting as a strong imperative to override her better judgement, an imperative to forget the past and to enjoy the kiss. It was Louise who eventually deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue into Andrew's mouth. As they kissed, Andrew's hand closed upon Louise's breast that was hidden by their bodies from the view of the rest of Joe's. Louise couldn't withhold her moan which was swallowed by Andrew's kisses: the sensations were every bit as good as she'd imagined in her fantasy. It was this outworking of her fantasy that made her forget to object to this action. Under Andrew's caresses, her nipples erected, becoming efficient transducers converting pressure to pleasure. Louise could feel her clitoris throb at the rough handling of her breast. The throb throb throb beating out a rhythm that called out for Andrew's hand to return. The bells which recalled Dick Wittington couldn't have been half as eloquent. Louise broke their kiss and looked around nervously as Andrew untucked her t-shirt from the waist-band of her skirt, and slid an exploring hand up inside it. No-one was paying them any attention at all. There were only two other booths that could see into theirs, and in one was another couple kissing, and the other only had one person in it, and he had his back to them. Andrew's lips reclaimed hers as she moaned with the sensual thrill of his hand on her bare breast. She hadn't warn a bra this evening. His rough palm on her proud nipple sent pleasure racing around her body, eventually finding it home between her legs. Her panties were getting wetter. Louise couldn't ignore the call of her pussy, she had to touch it, she HAD TO! Surreptitiously, she slid her hand up her skirt to her sopping pussy. She didn't want Andrew to know what she was doing. Her moan as her fingers reached their goal was lost amongst her other whimpers forced out by his magic manipulation of her breast and nipple. There she was, sitting in public with a boy, allowing him to fondle her tits, while she covertly rubbed her pussy. Her rising passion was broadcast by the reddening of her face and neck. She was nearly there. Nearly.... she couldn't stop now if her parents themselves came and sat down with them. Just a second longer ... `Oooowwwall' was a real cry of despair. Andrew's hand had closed on hers, and had removed it, leaving her hips bucking upwards in a most unlady-like way. Seeking that necessary pressure that just wasn't there. Her hand was trapped in his, it couldn't return. `If I can't do that, I'm not sure that you should either', he said with a smile. Louise could have killed him at that second. Numerous oaths and curses sprang to her lips, but were never uttered. Instead she turned to pleading, abject grovelling. `Please' she whimpered, her hips still twitching. `Please what?', asked Andrew. `Please' she begged again, spreading her legs as far as she could in her the skirt. `Tell me!' he demanded, a cruel smile on his face. The was no internal battle. Louise was far too aroused to be concerned about things like propriety. `I need a touch', she whispered, her hips bucking again in emphasis. 'Where?', he asked, determined to make her ask explicitly. `On my clitty!' she gasped. `Only if you take your panties off first', Andrew negotiated, knowing that he held all the cards. Louise was prepared to do anything, anything ... but the danger of obeying this demand was sobering. She looked around, would anyone see her? One booth was empty now, but the couple in the other were still there, still kissing. They looked pretty tied up with each other ... Dare she risk it? What if they saw? They probably wouldn't. And it was a very sexy idea. The danger was an aphrodisiac, a drug. She would do it! `Don't look', she whispered, as she rucked her skirt up to hook her fingers into the waist-band of her panties. Glancing around, feeling very very naughty, she pulled her panties down, stepping out of them. Her bottom felt hot on the cool plastic of the bench seat. Her love juices were keeping her pussy awash: ready to provide the lubricant for any caresses that came its way. Andrew took the panties with their wet patch from her, and, looking her straight in the eye, raised them to his nose to smell. Louise didn't know whether to die of embarrassment at this invasion of privacy, or to die of fear, least someone should see her panties above the level of the table. However, it only stoked her burning fire of need to higher temperatures. Andrew had just pocketed them when Jack the owner came into view. (No-one knew why it was called Joe's, or who Joe was). `Are you kids going to order or what? If you aren't, clear off. I'm running a business here, not a youth club', he growled at them. Andrew had to go up to the counter to order two more cokes. Louise found herself drumming her feet on the floor in frustration as this unexpected delay. The wait was unbearable! When Andrew returned with the cokes, Louise couldn't believe it: he was with Julia Barrett and her boyfriend, James. James and Andrew were good friends, and Louise got on fairly well with Julia, although she was far from thrilled to see her just then. It was obvious that they were going to join them ... it was just not fair! She wanted ... no, she NEEDED ... to cum, and now! Louise was suddenly aware of her bare bottom, and her rucked up skirt. She was in a very compromised position. Fortunately, the table was hiding this from the others. Andrew caught her eye and grinned, enjoying her predicament. "Why don't you slid in there next to Louise", Andrew suggested to James, his eyes twinkling at Louise. She only just managed to flick her skirt down enough to hide the top of her thighs. Her eyes flashed resentment at Andrew. What did he think he was doing? James was squeezed in next to her, while Andrew and Julia sat opposite. Could she lift her bottom enough to enable her to work her skirt down properly without attracting James' attention? More urgently, could she touch her aching clitoris? Dare she come with others around? Could she hide it from them? No, she dare not risk it. She'd have to escape to the rest-room. But before she did that she had to rearrange her skirt. Then she felt it. It was Andrew's foot. He'd kicked off his shoe and was running it up her leg. He wouldn't! He couldn't! Louise could feel herself panicking, she knew he could and would, and worse, she knew that she'd let him. Any pressure was what her sex craved. As far as her body was concerned, all risk was irrelevant in the face of her need. Andrew maintained conversation with James while his foot moved up to Louise's knees, parted them, and started to slide up her thighs. Her body, ignoring all internal shrieks of protest, open her legs of its own accord, and she moved forward to the edge of the seat. Andrew stopped his advance inches from her sopping pussy. Louise moaned quietly. James asked her if she was alright. She managed to croak that she was fine. And then contact was made. How she kept from moaning Louise never knew. It took but a few wiggles of his toes and she was coming. She wanted to pant and scream and cry-out and buck and ... Yet, instead, she sat there silently and went bright pink! She gasped for breath as the last earthquake rippled through her body, she hadn't realised that she had stopped breathing. James and Andrew were still talking, James had noticed nothing. Julia however was looking at her rather quizzically. Louise avoided her gaze. Louise was overcome with embarrassment. She had to get away. Yanking her skirt down and standing, she made her apologies, saying she didn't feel very well and had to go home, she picked up her coat, and fled Joe's, not waiting for Andrew to escort her. She tried to compose herself as she walked home. She tried to evaluate all that had happened that day, but it was all too much. As she walked, she was aware of the cool night air moving around her still wet pussy and naked bottom. How could she have behaved so slutishly ... and recklessly! She didn't even like Andrew Manchester! How could she have let him touch her like that? She groaned when she remembered that he still had her panties, her wet panties. Would he ever let her live it down? What about Julia? How much had she guessed? When she got home, Louise went straight to her room, stopping only to exchange the bare minimum of pleasantries with her parents, who were still up, watching a late film. Once in her room, Louise couldn't face more analysis, she went straight to bed. She didn't even remove the small amount of make-up she had on. So what of she got spots! At least then boys wouldn't bother her. She went straight to sleep, her body and mind glad of the opportunity to shut down. 3. Another Test Louise was very tempted the next day not to go to school, to pretend to be sick instead. She dreaded that the story of her behaviour would be all over the school, that everyone in her class would know, that Amy would know, that Andrew would have passed her panties around. She dreaded being very embarrassed. She dreaded getting a "reputation", a reputation for being easy, a "slut". She felt sick to her stomach. It would require very little acting to convince her parents that she was too ill to go to school today. Memories of last night lay like a lead weight on her heart. She didn't understand why she had acted so. She had been sexually excited. Was that an excuse? Was it a reason? Whatever it was, she knew she had to be more careful in future. This blossoming sexuality was very powerful stuff. It could blow your life apart. She scolded herself for being melodramatic. She had no time for teenage angst. Her life wasn't ruined. But it could get very embarrassing for awhile. She wondered if all the nice boys, the ones she wouldn't mind meeting, would keep clear from her if she got a "reputation"? Would she attract even more jerks with their "wanna-fucks"? What did she care about boys anyway? She had plenty of time; time to find someone nice when she went to University. Eventually Louise determined that she would go to school. She felt she needed to for herself. She needed to face her fears, face the worst. Nevertheless it was with trepidation that she entered the classroom. Amazingly, no one turned around to look at her, except, of course, Amy who welcomed her with a smile. Perhaps Andrew hadn't told? Perhaps Julia didn't guess? It seemed too marvellous to believe: she'd been convinced that everyone would know that she'd let Andrew-Manchester-masturbate-her-with-his-foot-in-a-public-place. Even in her thoughts, she skimmed over the memory. Fortunately, she didn't have to face Andrew yet, he was in different classes from her that morning: he wasn't as good at mathematics and science as she was. She passed Julia in a corridor while changing classes: they had both flushed and had not known what to say. Julia, seeking small-talk to cover their embarrassment, asked, `Did you have a good time last night?' When she realised what she had asked, she blushed even redder than Louise, and escaped to her class, muttering, `Sorry'. Louise was almost more embarrassed for her friend than for herself. Julia had obviously realised that she had climaxed. Did she know what Andrew had been doing? Probably. Still it wasn't so bad: Julia was unlikely to tell anyone, she was too embarrassed to even think about it. Actually, that probably wasn't true, Louise realised. Julia had probably done nothing else but think about it last night, as she had rubbed her wet pussy in the privacy of her own room. At least she would have, if she was anything like Louise. Louise realised that if she knew that any of her friends had been driven by uncontrollable sexual desires into a very public climax it would send her into the most amazing masturbation fantasies. Just thinking about it hypothetically was enough to get the blood flowing to her pussy lips and to get her clitoris to twitch. Louise was getting aroused. Should she just forget it and go to her next class, or did she have time to go to a rest-room? She was rarely late for class. Just this once wouldn't matter. Anyway, after last night she was sick of unfulfilled excitement. She darted down a side corridor, and entered the girls'-room. She entered a stall, lowered the seat, and, hitching up her skirt, sat on it. She didn't mess about, she paced her hand directly over her cunt: her panties were already slightly wet. Her decision to divert here had quickly got her more excited. Even through her panties her touch felt wonderful; she moaned slightly. Lifting her bottom, she quickly removed her panties. She used two fingers to part her labia, while she slowly slid a third into her vagina. It was wet enough for her finger to slide in easily. She panted. It felt so good. So much like it must for a boy's cock to enter. She positioned her finger so that it passed through the rather tight hole in her hymen. It sank all the way in. She pulled it half out; it was slick with her juices, her love cream. She pushed it in, harder this time. Her knuckles brushed her clitoris. She moaned. It was so lewd. So sexy. So nice. So very nice. She pumped a few more times. Suddenly Louise froze. Two girls had just entered the rest-room. They were giggling. They must be skipping class. She immediately realised that she hadn't locked her cubicle. She hoped neither of them would try her door. They didn't. Louise couldn't work it out: it sounded as if they were both in the next cubical to hers. There was more giggling. One hushed the other, `Shhhh, someone might hear'. The other replied, `The room is empty, and everyone is in class. Here, look at that.' Louise couldn't begin to guess what this last command referred to. She longed to see too. There was some rummaging, the noise of pages being turned. There was the occasional gasp, and `look at that!'. Louise wondered if it was a pornographic magazine that they were looking at. The idea that it was, made her pussy juice cream around her finger. Being careful not to make any noise, she slowly slid her finger in and out; making sure she rubbed her clitoris on each inward probe. One of the girls gasped, `Doesn't that make you excited?'. The other replied in a breathless voice, `Yesss'. `Does it make your clitty throb, and your pussy all wet, just like her's in the picture?', the first girl asked again. Her friend only murmured an affirmative, passion beginning to make her pant. Louise was getting more and more horny. It sounded like these girls were really getting excited by these pictures! There was a sigh of pleasure from the next cubical, a satisfied `mmmmmm'. The first girl was saying, `Yes, rub your pussy, put your hand in your panties, flick your clitty. Just like I'm doing'. The second girl moaned again, and said, `Mmmm, it feels good'. Louise had managed to squeeze two fingers into her virgin cunt, she was so wet. She was pushing them in and out like mad. It was so exciting hearing these two right next to her. If only she could see them! It was too risky to look over the partition, but her imagination was filling in all the details anyway. They were gasping and moaning next to her. Approaching climax fast if their whimpers were anything to go by. `Oh, I coming, I'm coming .... Oohhh ahhh', cried the second girl, followed immediately afterwards by her friend, `Me too, Oohhh, Aaaahhh'. Their cries were very exciting. Louise's hand brushed her clitoris just as the last of their sighs died away. The excitement and her caresses were too much: she whimpered and gasped in climax. There was no way she could be quiet. Next door, there were hurried whispers of `Quick there is someone here' and `Lets go'. The door of their stall crashed opened, and they sped off. Louise hadn't recognised their voices, and she never got to see them, but her mystery colleagues in masturbation had certainly helped her to rich a very good climax. Louise was alone again. She still felt horny. She continued to squeeze and flick her throbbing clitoris. She could come again. On impulse, without even pulling on her panties she looked into next stall. There on the toilet set was the magazine. Curiosity having mastered her, Louise picked up the magazine, and returned to her cubical. She was careful to lock the door this time. She rubbed her clitoris as she looked through the magazine. It was much more explicit than the one she'd seen in Michael's room. There were pictures of models with their pussy lips held open, their glistening pussies exposed to the camera. In a few there were some men with their erections disappearing into the mouths of the models. The actual point of penetration was blocked out by a censor's black circle, but it hid so little it might as well not be there. Once Louise had worked out was was being depicted, she was shocked, disgusted, intrigued, and aroused, all at once. Her cunt twitched, it had no doubt that the images were sexy. An erect penis was so big! So lewd! So .... sexy! But would a woman want to take a man's cock into her mouth? Wasn't it unnatural, or dirty, or ...? Actually, Louise recognised the looks of lust on the models' faces: they were enjoying it too. Louise found the whole idea a big turn on, as she frigged her pussy rapidly. She was quickly building to another big climax. She whimpered and came, bucking her pussy up against her fingers. When she had finished, she had to decide what to do with the magazine. She wanted to study it more. She wanted to take it home and look at it in comfort in her own room. But what if her parents found it? What if a friend saw it in her bag before she had got it home. Suppose some boys started throwing her bag around, as had happened once, and it fell out. She would die of embarrassment. Reluctantly, she concluded that she ought to leave it there. After freshening up, Louise arrived late for her class, explaining to her teacher that she had had an upset stomach. All through the lesson she had trouble concentrating, she kept on thinking about the magazine and the pictures she had seen. There had been one picture which showed a woman was on her knees taking a man's cock in her mouth, while she was reaching back between her legs and rubbing her pussy. For some reason Louise found this picture especially exciting, perhaps it was the look of concentration on the man's face, as though he was about to climax at any second, or perhaps it was that the woman had been so hot licking the penis that she hadn't been able to prevent masturbating before the man and the camera. What ever the reason, the image was very powerful, and Louise could feel herself getting wet again. She kept on thinking about the pictures all through the rest of the class. By the end, she had made up her mind, she was going to get the magazine. As soon as the bell went she was off to the rest-room. It was where she had left it. Feeling very guilty, she placed it in the bottom of her bag, and hoped no-one would find it. At lunch time Louise met Andrew. She had been dreading this moment, unsure of how he was going to act, or what she was going to say. Would he make crass or lewd comments? Would he be angry at her leaving him like that? How could she face him, knowing he still had a pair of her panties. How was she supposed to act? In the event, it was a lot less awful than she had feared. He had smiled when he saw her, and had come over and said that he hoped she got home alright last night. She had smiled in return, and said that she had got home without any trouble, thank you. A few moments of awkwardness had followed, but Andrew had ended it by saying, `See you around' and walking off. His obvious shyness and awkwardness warmed Louise to him; maybe he wasn't the macho-jerk that she'd always thought that he was. Louise ate her lunch with Amy, who wanted to know `all about last night'. Louise told her that she had gone to Joe's with Andrew, that they had kissed a bit, had a few cokes, and had talked to a few friends, including Nicole and her boyfriend, John, and Julia and James. `Well?', Amy had asked. `Well what?', asked Louise, genuinely confused. `What was it like to kiss Andrew?', demanded Amy, exasperated that her friend was so dense. `Oh ... It was alright. Actually, it was very good. He really knows how to kiss'. `Yes?' `Yes! His kisses leave you feeling all weak and dreamy'. `Sounds nice. Was he romantic?' Louise coloured slightly at the question, but answered honestly, `No. All he was interested in was kissing'. Amy gave her a look as if to say, how could you enjoy kissing him if he didn't take any interest in you. Louise replied, `I know, I always said I was only going to kiss someone I loved ... You needn't look at me like that! It was just different, okay? He kind of made me feel all sexy and hot, and all I cared about was kissing.' Amy laughed, `So "weak and dreamy" was actually "sexy and hot" was it!' Louise smiled, `If you'd been kissed like that, you'd know exactly how I felt. He was so good, I didn't know which way was up!' `Wow, he must be some kisser!', was Amy's comment. `Tell me about it in more detail'. Just then the bell signifying the end of lunch rang. Louise said, `Come over to my house tonight, and I'll tell you all about it. Must dash, see you later.' With that, they parted and went to their respective classes. That evening Louise was itching to escape from the family meal table, and retire to her room to study her magazine. The meal seemed to drag on unbearably. Nevertheless it ended eventually, and she was able to retire to her room. She wondered whether she should put something up against the door to give her some warning if someone tried to enter, but realised that with her brother being around a friend's house, any disturbances were very unlikely. Her parents rarely bothered her when she was in her room, they just were happy that she was in and, supposedly, doing her homework. With trembling fingers she opened her school bag, and hunted through it for the magazine. It was gone! No it wasn't ... there it was at the bottom where she had put it. Shaking with excitement and guilt she sat on her bed, and opened the magazine. The first picture was of a young woman in a bedroom, she was dressed in pink pyjamas, there was a teddy-bear on her bed. Her blonde hair was in a pony-tail. Underneath it on the same page was a picture showing girl with dark hair entering the room, she was dressed in a very short night-dress, and apparently she crying, which according to the caption was because of the thunder storm. A picture on the next page showed the two of them embracing, the buttons of the blonde's pyjamas top had for some reason started to become undone. The fourth picture showed them kissing, their tongues touching each other's, the hand of the dark girl was clutching one of the blonde girl's breasts, her other breast was exposed, its pink nipple was erect. Louise stared at the four pictures in fascination. She was surprised and astonished to see two girls behaving like that. Touching each other! The sight of the erect nipple was very erotic. Louise turned the page, she was shaking even more than before. On the next page was a picture of the blonde's PJ top discarded, lying over her teddy-bear, while the dark girl's mouth closed on one of her nipples. The next picture was a close-up of her pink tongue licking that hard nipple. The third picture was a full page one, and showed that the dark girl had turned around, and the blonde was pulling her night-dress over her head. Her dark pussy had just come into view. Louise took in all three pictures at once, and then studied each in turn. It was unbelievable. It was exciting. It was wicked. It was arousing. Louise could feel herself getting wet. She started massaging one of her breasts through her school blouse. Unsatisfied, she popped open a few buttons, and slid her hand inside her blouse. She could feel her erect nipple thrusting into her bra. Slipping the strap off her shoulder inside her blouse, she lowered the bra-cup and held her naked breast. With her other hand she turned the next page: the first photograph showed the dark girl naked, while the blonde held her breasts from behind, the prominent nipples being pinched between her fingers. The dark girl had turned her head, and they were kissing. The second picture showed the dark girl kissing the blonde's hip, as her PJ bottoms were being pushed to her feet. The blonde's pussy hair was rather sparse, a little like her own, Louise noted. Louise lay the magazine on the bed, and lay down beside it on her side, seeking a more comfortable position. She was still shocked by what she was seeing, but it was very exciting too. She pinched her nipple, the resulting wave of pleasure making her gasp softly. The third picture was very lewd. The blonde was standing with one leg raised, her foot on the bed. she was holding opened her labia, showing her glistening pussy. The dark girl was kneeling at her feet cupping her own breasts, and she was bringing her mouth towards the blonde's pussy ... her tongue was out ready to lick! Louise was shocked to her core!! Maybe, just maybe, a girl would want to take a man's penis into their mouth, but surely no-one would want to lick a girl's pussy! It was dirty, totally disgusting! Nevertheless Louise was getting very very excited. She could feel that her panties were wet. She reached a hand up her school skirt to find out how wet. She gasped at what she found. They were sopping! Louise liked the feel of her hand on her pussy, even over her panties, and couldn't help rubbing it a bit. She closed her eyes and rubbed, her clitoris basking in all the attention. She opened her eyes and looked at the lewd picture as she masturbated. The blonde's pussy was so wet. So enticing. I wonder what it would taste like ...? Louise was embarrassed to catch herself thinking such thoughts, and so with a hand smeared with love-juice she turned the page of the magazine. The first picture showed the two girl's lying next to each other, each had their mouths on the other's pussy. It was the blonde girl's mouth which was nearest the camera, and the picture should have shown her tongue probing between the dark girl's labia, only instead there was the censor's intrusive little black circle. Louise felt irritated at the senseless interference, nevertheless the picture was still very arousing. The second picture showed both girl's looking up towards the door, where a man in a business-suit stood, looking surprised. The last picture showed the man seated on the bed, with the naked blonde girl over his knee with his hand raised to smack her bottom, which was already reddened. The dark girl was kneeling on the bed, hugging the teddy-bear to her. The caption said, "It's your turn next, lesbian slut!" Louise sent her hand back to its task of rubbing her pussy. The images were extremely exciting. She abhorred the despising tone of the last caption, but that could not wipe out the sexiness of the image. Girl's licking each other ... only to be discovered ... and then smacked! Louise could identify with the worry of being discovered. As she pulled her panties to one side, and slide a finger into her vagina she was very aware that anyone could walk through her door at any second. She could never stop what she was doing and hide the magazine before the door opened. Furthermore, the idea of the shame and the indignanty of being put over a man's knee was, for some reason, a very powerful image for Louise. Louise knew that her climax was not far away. She was panting slightly. Suddenly she froze. Her mother's voice was calling. What was she saying? `Louise, Amy is here for you'. Louise could hear the sound of Amy walking up the stairs to her room. She groaned quietly, her orgasm was going to have to be postponed again! Louise straightened her clothes, and slid the magazine under her bed. The only thing she couldn't do anything about in time was her pussy-juices on her hand. Need being the mother of experimentation, Louise was sucking her fingers as she opened the door for Amy. Amy gave her a sweet smiled as she entered. Louise returned the smile in spite of being distracted by her own taste: she rather liked it! Louise was a bit concerned that Amy would smell her wantonness, but she gave no indication that she did. Louise could feel her sexual buzz slowly die away, sometimes only being reminded of it by her wet panties when she moved. Eventually, Amy turned her questions back to their earlier conversation, and she wanted to know all about Andrew's kisses, and their date. Louise was not in the habit of keeping things from Amy, for after all she was her best friend, and so, in spite of the embarrassment, she started to tell about her date. No doubt her current sexual frustration helped contribute to her decision to tell about her frustration of the night before. Frustration demanding the discussion of sex if it couldn't get the real thing! Louise told Amy about Andrew sliding his hand up her skirt while Nicole was there. Amy had squealed, goggle-eyed, on hearing this, and had asked how she had managed. Didn't she want to just slap his face! Louise tried to explain that his fingers were kind of magical, and had made her feel all weak, and so she had let him touch her pussy over her panties. Amy had been shocked to hear this ... and excited. She had demanded to know how it had felt, and what had happened next. Louise tried her best to describe it, and eventually said, why don't you touch yourself to get some idea of what it felt like! Amy was too embarrassed to do that, but it was clear to Louise that she wanted to. Amy got more and more agitated as she heard about how he had touched her naked breast inside her t-shirt. Even Amy's `Louise, how could you!' was les

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