|
She was a Good Girl
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The Good Girl
The bell rang, and Jamie took her place amid the herd of girls
filing out into the hallway. The minds around her, she was sure, focused
only on what treat the cafeteria had cooked up for today's lunch. Her
mind, however, centered on an entirely different and much more important
matter: Her lunchtime rendezvous with Keith, a Senior from the boys' wing
of St. Lucian's High School.
He was not her boyfriend--nothing so committed as that. He was
more than an occasional fuck, however. Jamie had never quite understood
their relationship, and had given up trying. At that moment, the only
thing in her mind was how wonderful his cock would feel inside of her.
It had been on her mind, in fact, since early that morning,
when she had seen Keith in front of school and felt the familiar
longing. They had quickly made plans to meet at lunchtime in the
janitor's closet of the boys' wing, a place they had found to be safe in
the past.
Even in the crowded hallway, surrounded by a sea of conformity,
Jamie managed to stick out. She wore the same outfit as everyone else:
Plain white shoes and socks, a dark blue and green plaid skirt to the
knees, and a light blue blouse. About half the girls wore an optional
navy blue sweater. Yet Jamie's clothes differed in subtle ways. Her
socks had a thin, baby blue stripe around the top, a decoration that went
largely unnoticed but was a symbol of her quiet rebellion against school
authority. Her skirt never seemed to reach as far down as was intended,
and her neck-line was opened one button further down than was the norm.
These little things were all she could manage without being punished.
Her hair set her apart, as well. Fiery red and curly, it
stretched nearly down to her waist. This, and the way she walked. It
was sort of a subdued confident strut; nothing overstated, but enough to
make people notice when she walked by.
She waited impatiently for the halls to clear out, becoming
increasingly aware of the spreading wetness in her panties. When finally
it was safe, she proceeded to the boys' wing and to the door marked
"JANITOR." With one last look to ensure she was not observed, Jamie
opened the door, slipped inside, then quickly shut it behind her.
She turned, and there leaning against the shelves filled with
janitorial equipment was Keith, wearing a slight smile. Without
speaking, she was in his arms, and they kissed. Their tongues sparred
skillfully while their hands kept busy. She fumbled at the button to his
slacks while he reached up under her skirt and tugged at her panties. He
managed to get them down to mid-thigh before guiding her to a small table
on one side of the cluttered closet they were in, the only place she
could sit down.
Jamie was busily unbuttoning her blouse as Keith knelt in front
of her, pulling her panties off the rest of the way. She draped her legs
over his shoulders as he ducked his head under her skirt. Her blouse
fell from her shoulders and her bra came off immediately after, finding a
place on the floor beside her panties.
Suddenly, Jamie heard footsteps in the hallway. They were the
clicking of a woman's heels, echoing louder as they approached.
"Quiet!" she whispered. "Someone's out there!"
At this warning, Keith proceeded to do the worst thing he
possibly could have, which was jump to his feet, in the process knocking
a bucket off the shelf to his side. The sound resounded loudly when the
bucket hit the floor.
The footsteps stopped. Jamie dared not breathe; Keith's
expression showed his fear of capture. There was a knock at the door,
then a voice: "Is anybody in there?" The pair remained silent, hoping
whoever it was would go away.
Unfortunately, this did not happen. The door swung open,
revealing Jamie's math teacher, an elderly woman with her white hair in a
bun. A horrified look spread across her face when she realized what had
been taking place.
"My God!" she exclaimed. "How utterly offensive! Young
lady--put on your shirt! You two are going straight to the principle's
office! I'm sure he'll have something to say about this sinful behavior!"
Jamie barely had time to snatch up her blouse before the woman
grabbed her by the arm and led her unceremoniously down the hallway to
the principal. She buttoned up her shirt as they went, Keith following
close behind. She was dreadfully afraid of what her punishment might
turn out to be.
* * * *
After sitting for some time in the waiting room outside Mr.
Lang's office, Jamie had been able to calm down and think about her
position. She had heard stories from other girls about Mr. Lang's
behavior--one girl even said she had escaped punishment by giving him a
blow job. That was not a particularly attractive option to Jamie,
considering that Mr. Lang was overweight, bald, and over sixty, but she
would prefer that to her parents finding out that their little angel was
not quite as angelic as she seemed. She decided that she would act as
innocent as possible, and do whatever it took to ensure that her parents
were told nothing.
Mr. Lang poked his head outside the door. "Jamie Stevens? You
may come in now."
Jamie rose from the chair and proceeded meekly across the
waithing room, trying to look as frightened as possible. Mr. Lang shut
the door to his office behind her, then sat behind his desk. Jamie took
a seat in the chair facing him.
"Now," he said, "Mrs. Ross tells me you were engaged in some
quite improper behavior. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Oh, please, sir," she said, "Please don't tell my parents! I'll
do anything!"
"Are you saying that what Mrs. Ross tells me is true?"
"Yes--oh, I'm so sorry! I know it was wrong! I promise I'll
never do anything like it again if you just don't tell my parents!"
He sighed. "Well, Jamie, I'll tell you what. Because you seem
sorry for what you've done, I won't tell your parents. However, you must
agree that you deserve some kind of punishment due to the serious nature
of your offense."
She nodded. "Yes sir, anything you think is appropriate."
"Good. Now then-" He pushed his chair back away from the
desk-"Come over here, please."
Jamie went, expecting him to ask for a blow job. Instead, he
grabbed her and laid her across his lap face down. "What are you doing!"
she cried, trying to escape.
"Stop struggling--you said yourself that you deserved
punishment. Now I'm going to spank you for being such a naughty girl."
"Spank me? But I'm too old for that!"
"You most certainly are not, and if you continue struggling than
I may have to tell your parents after all."
Jamie realized there was nothing she could do, and stopped her
struggles. Mr. Lang lifted her skirt up to her waist, exposing her bare
ass beneath. "Ah," he said, "I see you are a natural redhead." For an
instant his hand glided through her soft curls, then delivered a swift
smack to Jamie's ass. It stung mildly, but Jamie greatly exaggerated the
effect.
"Oh, that hurts!" she whimpered. Then, as he smacked her several
times more, "Please, stop! You're hurting me! Oh, it stings!" She
squirmed on his lap, continuing her cries as he continued the spanking.
Actually, Jamie was impressed with her acting ability. The
impacts stung mildly, but the pain was bearable; he was not really
hitting her all that hard. She made it seem like he was, though, even
managing to produce real tears.
He paused briefly. Before he could resume, Jamie sobbed,
"Please, no more! I can't take it!"
He sighed. "I suppose you've learned your lesson. You may go,
and tell the boy to come in here."
Jamie knew that Keith would get in real trouble, and she didn't
want that to happen. So, standing beside Mr. Lang in his chair, she
began unbuttoning her blouse. Abandoning her innocent act, she said,
"I'm sure that you can find it in your heart to forget about the boy,
too--can't you?"
She took off the blouse and then unzipped the skirt and stepped
out of it, thus standing naked before him. He didn't say anything; she
saw him make an effort to swallow.
She could have just blown him and been done with it, but she was
still feeling the desire that had spurred her to be with Keith in the
first place, and the spanking had only intensified it. So she wanted
some pleasure for herself, too. She knew she couldn't rely on Mr. Lang
to provide it, so she would do it herself.
While he watched hungrily, she reached down to her crotch with
her right hand and, palm open, rubbed across the moist opening to her
sex. Her left hand concentrated on her breasts, kneading them and
pinching the hardend nipples.
Down below, she slipped two fingers into her sex, then three, and
finally four. Her thumb sought out the erect clitoris and pushed on it
while her fingers slid rapidly in and out of her cunt. This brought her
to orgasm quickly, for it was a method she frequently used. It was brief
but intense; a jolt through her body like an electric shock, a sharp
gasp, and it was through.
Now satiated--temporarily, at least--she knelt before him and
pulled his cock out of his pants. She was glad she had not relied on him
for pleasure--for one thing, he was unusually small, and for another he
had no stamina. She had barely brought the tip to her lips before he
started to ejaculate, shooting his sperm all over her face and in her
hair. That was unpleasant; she had hoped to swallow it to avoid the mess.
Nothing more needed to be said. She used his shirt to wipe the
semen from her, then dressed quickly and left.
In the waiting room, she smiled at Keith. "Let's go," she said.
"I got us out of trouble. Now, let's find somewhere private where we can
pick up where we left off..."
THE END
Comments? Send e-mail at [email protected]
|
|
