We strolled unobtrusively through the gates and, no one having
challengedus, walked swiftly towards the imitation Greek temple at the
top of therise. Dusk was falling, a school day in autumn. I was on fire
with lustand fear of discovery.One genius forefinger slipped inside my
panties under the table in thecoffee shop was all it took. Although he
cared nothing for me, silly girl,that boy could make me forget my name
with his dexterity. My tinynon-uniform panties were already soaked and I
could feel my juices coolingon the bare thighs under my skirt. I was "in
lurve" regardless of hisindifference. In those days he was always
welcome in my pants. Lookingback I wonder if it was his expertise I
adored rather than any more romantic attraction.Safe under the eaves of
the darkening stone folly we sat watching thestragglers leave the park.
There was a moment when we must have both decided we were alone. I
dropped my school mac on the flags as some sortof blanket and at the
same time threw back my head and arched my back,offering my aching
little cherry-stone nipples to his mouth.Christopher leant down and
gripped a nipple with his teeth, not quitehurting, a sharp deep pleasure
and I groaned low in my throat. My handswere clumsy with lust, trying to
reach his jeans while he half-crouched topull my blouse open and suck my
breast tips into his hot mouth. It was socold, cold and damp, but his
mouth, my cunt, his cock, our hands wereburning. I couldn't reach his
jeans without pulling him away from hisintense labour at my nipples and
a moment later it was clear I stillcouldn't get him out of his pants
without disturbing the other hand movingdown inside my waistband towards
my clitoris. My excitement was sopowerful I could not bear to move. I
just stood there, vibrating, only myarms still inside my unbuttoned
school blouse, my flesh white in the duskas he sent near-orgasmic
excitement through me with his hot pointed tongueand sharp teeth."Fuck
me, Chris", hoarsely, "Please fuck me. I need you inside me". His
breathing was jerky, he ripped off his jeans, no underwear, and hopped
fora ludicrous second in a boot until he'd dragged the rest off. He kept
onhis sweater. It was colder now, and the light was nearly gone.I was
already on the ground, fingers slithering in my pussy, legs high
andwide. Not a time for maidenly modesty. "Fuck me, I need it so badly,
youdon't know how badly", then "YYEESSS!" I shouted in triumph as his
cockhit bottom with a satisfying brutal thud. Straight in like a piston,
heknew the trick.We went at it like cats - no fancy positions, no
endearments - just hard, focussed fucking in the dark, and a lot of
noise. I loved the friction ofthe firm- edged flange of his cock. Some
men's dicks are smooth shaped,like a banana. Me, I love a dick with a
strongly pronounced head like ababy's fist and forearm, arching out to
catch me both directions of thestroke.Soon I had a raw spot on my back
where it took the pressure against thestone floor, and God knows what
was happening to his knees (as it happenedI never found out). Gasping
and sobbing I felt orgasms hit me likehailstorms, gripping his waist
with my thighs and tensing everywhere untilthe energy came through me,
and straight, and I felt my guts open like aflower.I fell back
temporarily as he straightened up above me and then, full ofgratitude,
scrambled to my knees and started to fellate him. His cocktasted
gorgeous, the fresh juice of two clean but desperately horny people.
Deep into giving him pleasure I suddenly realised his back had
stiffened. I raised my head - surely I hadn't hurt him?"I think there's
someone out there", he whispered.Kneeling there, with cooling cumjuice
on my thighs, I felt rich andbeautiful and oddly powerful. "Who's
there?" I called clearly. "Come outand say hello"."Nooo", hissed Chris.
"Don't. You're crazy.""Come out, come out, whoever you are!" I sang, and
giggled.Out of the shadow of some laurel bushes came a short bulky
figure. Hiswhole posture was defeated, timid. We stood up to watch
him."Come up here" I called. And he came. Chris said nothing. His
flarednostrils and his eyes showed me he was turned on, and intrigued,
but itwas my party.The man was not old, not young. Maybe 40. At 15
everyone seems old. Chrisat 19 was a man of the world to me.The man wore
a heavy raincoat, which he never took off while I knew him.He had a
white face like a disappointed potato, but his eyes were blackand huge
and he was staring at me like a disciple. He climbed the steps ofthe
temple and walked very slowly towards us. It was a matter of half adozen
steps, but I think he thought he was dreaming."Could I? I mean, would
you mind if I? Could I .. touch you?" he askedvery gently. "It's my
pleasure", I said smiling, and cupped my breasts to offer themwith both
hands. For the first time I deliberately, confidently displayed myself
in the knowledge of my power.He made some sort of choking sound and fell
on my tits, sucking andstroking them with amazing tenderness as though
they were baby animals. Hewas not clean, and even now I remember the
charity shop smell of oldclothes (perhaps not even his old clothes), and
a faint whiff of mould.His hair smelt dirty, but the sense of worship
was intoxicating.Chris was behind me, watching the man's head over my
shoulder while hishands kneaded my arse. His breathing was a cross
between shock and extremelust. I don't think he knew what to do. I knew
exactly what to do. I movedmy hips slightly and touched the back of the
man's neck. "D'you want tokiss me?" I asked.As I well knew, he didn't
even think of my face. He sobbed and fell to hisknees, burying his face
between my legs, working his surprisingly largewarm tongue between my
fat wet labia. He licked and sucked in a frenzy, asif he wanted to coax
his way right up inside and hibernate there for thewinter. He reeked of
loneliness. I felt strong and full of pity - I hadnever been able to
give another person something they wanted so muchbefore. I thought, in
my innocence, how unfair it was that there werepeople cut off by looks
and shyness from the glories of sexual expression.I was glad to be of
assistance.After a minute or two of watching, Chris urged me to fuck
again, rathergrumpily, partly just to show this guy he was there first I
think. I slideasily onto the cold stone and we slickly resumed our
frantic rhythm, meflat on my back with my legs round his waist. I could
see the night sky.The man sat down on the floor beside us and talked
quietly. "I was watching you when you were doing that before", he said.
"It was so beautiful".I turned my mind aside from him and absorbed
myself in the sex I loved somuch.As I felt Chris's thrusts gain that
unmistakable urgency that always flipsme over, and he plunged deep and
savage inside me, I gripped the man'shand as I took the impact of
another orgasm. His fingers were wet. I was lost for a second or two,
and when I started taking notice again the manwas pleading very softly
with us both. "Please", he said. "Please".Chris was looking a bit
confused, but he disentangled himself from me. Igave that little sad
dumpy man a slow smile and said "Come here, then".And we fucked. On a
cold damp autumn schoolnight. And while we fucked hewept. He touched me
with some sort of reverence. I felt like the goddess.I stood up and
walked home with cum stains on the inside of my uniform. Itwas only
about 6.30.I don't know why I did it, but it's a good memory. Now I am
older I overlay it with complicated motives. At the time I think I was
just so inlove with sex, my new find, my new fluency, and couldn't bear
to think ofanyone being left out.Chris and I met up ten years later.
"You scared me", he said. "I was sucha dickhead. I didn't understand
you."I still sometimes wonder what the sad, lonely man thought, and if
he everthinks about it now.
