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Chapter 1, discovering my sexuality

My name is Clover Moffatt, and my sexual awakening came late, at the hands of men who ought to have known better – namely Henry Jones, my elderly neighbour, and the Headmaster of my High School Jed Bonner. Frankly, I regard the whole Jed episode as being completely formative, and ruinous to my chances of romance.

But I should start from the beginning. When I turned eighteen, and Henry Jones initiated me into…something.

It was summer in London. i was eighteen, in my last year at school, and tightly reined in by my parents. No short skirs, no boys no late nights. And behind the door of my bedroom I was RAMPANT for it.

It had been getting worse. I mean eighteen and still having sex by myself? I had had a long day at school, which had ended with sharp words from our rather terrifying headmaster who had spotted me smoking just outside the gate. Jed Bonner. Some of the girls called him Boner because he always seemed to have a vast bulge in his trousers. I had ventured a glance at it as he was talking to me, and realised it was bigger than usual. I wondered if it was because I’d taken my bra off and he could see my nipples poking into my school T shirt. I liked the thought. I could feel my nipples now, subbing against the cotton. That’s what I took the bra off, I just loved the feel of my nipples, rubbing… I was like all teenaged girls, then. I was desperate for sex, yet terrified of it. I masturbated all the time. I was kind of hot for myself. I had discovered how much my nipples liked to be stimulated and had positively bruised them in my efforts to intensify my pleasure. And I was endlessly terrified of getting caught. A penis, though – I wasn’t ready for one of those. I’d seen them on internet porn. They looked far too vast to be manageable. It had taken me months even to manage a Lillet.

I lived in a pleasant suburb in London called Kentish Town. It was rather twee and trendy, with coffee shops and pastel coloured houses, and bunches of Rastafarians hanging out on street corners selling pot and stealing your wallet. I loved the vibrancy of it – but out house was in a leafy side street with houses on each side and big, old fashioned windows.

As I approached our house my phone pinged. It had pinged several times today and I had rushed to see what my message was each time… I got it out of my pocket, conscious of a stirring excitement. I had been getting anonymous texts for the last week, and they were making me feel strange and excited.

The first one had been last Sunday. I’d been in the front garden in my bikini, lying on a deckchair reading a book. The first message said “tasty titties.”

I’d been shocked at first but thrilled that someone would want to send me a message like that. The next day had come, “I love your nipples.” And then, more erotically, “would pay good money to suck your little teats.”

Last night had come the most erotic of all. It said “i could lick you till you shudder.”

I didn’t know who they were from. The only person I’d given my phone number to recently was Henry, the old wheelchair-bound man who had just moved in opposite us, for use in an emergency. It was hardly likely to be him.

I headed home, now, wondering whether my nipples might have affected Jed’s lunchbox. I hoped so. I longed to have the power to do that. There was a strange little feeling down between my legs when I thought about what Jed Bonner had in there, and what it might look like. I imagined him getting it out, as I walked home. Imagined him standing escort dikmen over me and making me kneel before it and watch it rearing up…

It would be vast. I fantasised about seeing it plunged into Mrs Akin the science teacher, who was only 23 but dressed like a frump and picked on me all the time. I’d seen fucking videos on line. I wanted to see Mrs Akin fucked by Jed till she begged for release. I wanted to see her moaning like the girls in the porn videos. I wanted her to take it up the ass.

I strolled along the street, flanked by beech trees. I could see Henry Jones in the garden of his house, gardening in his wheelchair. His bedroom was right opposite mine, and occasionally I’d see him sitting at his window when I went to get ready for bed, so I’d give him a little wave. He always seemed so pleased to see me.

My parents were out that night and all that thinking of Jed Bonner’s penis had be feeling rather aroused. I liked to masturbate with my dad’s secret supply of cock cream, which he kept at the back of the bathroom cabinet, so as soon as they’d gone I headed to my room.

It was a hot evening so I had the window open, and the calico curtain was fluttering gently in the breeze. I put a dollop of cream on each nipple. They started to warm up and tingle – I think the cream has pepper in it. I headed over to the window to close the curtain before I lay down and found my little hot thing…

And there was Henry Jones. He was staring straight in. He had seen everything I had done.

Shocked, I closed the curtains… but not before my eyes had registered the smile on his face and the hand raised in greeting.

OMG I realised, he liked it. And I thought, poor Henry, he’s in a wheelchair, and he’s totally harmless…

And I opened the curtains again. I didn’t look at him – I was too shy, but I fondled my nipples in front of the window, then I backed away from the window to my bed and lay back on it so that he could see everything, spreading my legs to show him my moist little pussy…

Then delicately I dipped a finger into my dad’s cock cream, took a generous dollop, applied it to my clitoris and started to rub.

I am a real expert masturbator. I have worked out how to tease and please that little button of mine until it begs for mercy. I can roll my finger over it till it hovers right on the edge, till I’m moaning so load I have to put my face in the pillow… and when I’m on the edge I imagine fingers in me and Jed Bonner punishing Mrs Akin… and then I push myself over into wild lovely spasms of pleasure. Everything inside me contracts and I get incredibly wet. And I think I ache for something to be put inside… and sometimes I slide a candle in and move it up and down…

I was really hot. My clit was swollen and nobbly, my experienced fingers powerful and rhythmic. With my left hand I pulled hard on my left nipple and it sent screaming waves of pleasure down to my pussy. I wanted to put the candle in, but I didn’t want to spoil Henry’s view. I remembered the text person taking about sucking on my titties and I heard moaning.

“Oh that’s nice… oh yes… oh yes… oh do it more, do it more…”

Was that my voice? It sounded so deep. I was so hot and excited I was losing control. Oh God…

Two voices. The deep moaning voice wasn’t mine, it was Henry. Henry Jones was getting off watching me climax on my bed.

I sat up, legs apart, pussy fully displayed and looked across to Henry’s room. He was there, watching. I could see his hand escort emek moving in his groin. He was rubbing himself…

I heard a wild moan again. Surely I can’t hear Henry across the street?

But no, it was me this time…oh God. i was so hot knowing i had turned him on. The power was exquisite. My clitoris was like a giant knob screaming with lust. I lay back and began to tug on my nipple with one hand, tug tug tug, whilst the other hand fingered my hungry, turgid button. I started a low, animal murmur.

The thought that Henry was watching added a fast, frantic desire to my masturbation. I rubbed my clit harder and harder and started to moan aloud, “oh yes, oh yes, oh that’s good, Oh god … henry i want you to suck my titts, oh god, oh god… oh YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH”

I spasmed and came, gorgeous and hungry, weak as a baby. My vagina was contracting in excited waves. Carefully I put one finger into the pussy juices and held it up for Henry to see.

A moment later my phone went off. A text.

Henry.

I wondered how he got my number, then shuddered with excitement when i realised that his was the same number as all those mysterious texts.

“Fifty pounds, Clover,” it said, “if I could, just once, suck one of your beautiful teats.”

I sat, swallowed, shocked. I was aware of him sitting there. And my clit was hot and swollen again already. My clit wanted someone to suck my titties. I wanted someone to suck my titties.

There was really no doubt about this.

I texted back ‘shall I come now?”

The answer came back. ‘8pm tomorrow.’

I texted back “OK. But you can suck both.”

I figured it was a kindness.

Oh yes.

The next day I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I veered from excitement to horror. I was going to let an OLD Man suck my boobs. But I could trust him to do only that, given that he was helpless, AND he was paying me…

By lunchtime I had told myself I wouldn’t do it.

By four o’clock I was desperate to get there, so hot I as at risk of spontaneous combustion.

At suppertime I ate so little that my mother asked me if I was feeling alright. Then my father – my father – said, “Oh Clover, I told Henry Jones asked if you would pop round. Apparently he’s looking for someone to do some regular errands for him, poor old guy.”

I was almost faint with nerves.

At eight o’clock I knocked on Henry’s door. It swung open and I went into his cool, tidy hall, closing it behind me.

I knew he’d be in the bedroom.

I was wearing my best G string, just in case he wanted to see it, and no bra. A T shirt and denim shorts and my flip flops. I’d left my long hair loose, in case I felt shy. It would cover my nipples.

Henry was sitting in his wheelchair. As I walked into the room he smiled in delight. “Clover. So lovely of you to come…”

“Er, yes my Dad said you wanted me to do some stuff.”

“I do Clover. I am looking for a regular arrangement. I thought perhaps fifty tonight, and then we can see how we get on…”

I swallowed. “Okay,” I said. It came out in a whisper.

“Good,” Henry produced a little stack of notes. I wondered if he wanted to tuck them in my knickers but he put them on the table.

“Perhaps, then you might lie down put these on for me..”

Henry Jones produced a pair of little bulldog clips. And I… I knew exactly what they were for. I’d done it before. He must know…

I lay back on his bed and slipped my t shirt off. My breasts stood up, and I noticed escort eryaman the evening sun landing on my nipples. My skin was smooth and slightly tanned. My nipples were small and rosy. My pussy felt warm and nice. Carefully, delicately, I pinned one bulldog clip on each nipple.

The sensation pulsed through my breasts like a sort of electricity. I moaned. “Oh that’s really nice,” I said to Henry. “Are you going to suck them now?”

“You want that?”

“Oh yes,” “I said. ‘I really do. You can suck them quite hard…”

“In good time honey,’ he said, “lie still…” and very very carefully he approached me in his wheelchair and threaded a piece of string through each bulldog clip. He moved back, still holding the ends. “I thought you might show me how you get yourself hard first. I like little girls with hard nipples…”

I slid off my shorts and pushed my G-string aside nervously. I put one finger on my little marble clitty. “Like that?’

“Very nice,” said Henry. You know what I want to see…”

I knew.

Oh yes.

I closed my eyes. I thought I would forget about him. And I started to massage my clit, round and round, soft and regular. My fingers please me easily and I started to breathe a little faster. Oh, this was good…

And then…

“Ahhhhhhh, Oh GOD!” That scream of lust was me. Henry was tugging gently on the strings attached to the bulldog clips. As I built up he was stimulating my nipples without even touching me.

I was frantic with desire for myself. I started to rub my clit hard and violently. I could feel my orgasm building, building…

I started a low animal moan…

And Henry said, “look at me, Clover…”

And he pressed some sort of remote control and ‘Bat out of hell’ came on the hifi system, and Meat Loaf was revving his motorbike…

I opened my eyes. I saw he was smiling at me as I brought my clitoris upwards towards the peak. I saw him take his teeth out. Oh God…

“Do you like that Clover?”

“Oh yes, Henry…”

“Call me Sir, honey…”

“Oh yes sir. I really like that…”

“Take your finger away…”

“Oh God…,” but I wanted to know what he was going to do.

“Come here and sit astride my knees… I think it’s time …

And then he was on me.

First he licked my quicivering nipples. I wriggled and sighed. OH yes.

Then – suddenly – the gloves were off. His mouth was on me, suckling my teats in hard and fast, one at a time whilst the other pinched and squeezed. He had taken his teeth out so that he could chew and much and gobble on me as if I were supper. As he suckled and licked and chewed I writhed and moaned. I had been so close to orgasm that I was cumming…

“Oh God, Sir, I’m going to explode…”

he chewed and licked and rubbed and kneaded. “Good Girl, you can cum for Daddy…”

“Oh God, oh help…I mustn’t…,” I was panicking, I felt out of control…what if I ended up imprinted or something, like some kind of duckling. I fought the orgasm, fought against his suckling mouth.

And he came off at once – but I knew it was too late. I was sitting astride him, looking him in the eyes, and the most enormous orgasm was building up inside of me. “Do you want me to stop Clover?”

I shook my head, “oh God suck my teat…” and as my moment of wild tight cumming surged to get me he put a finger and thumb onto each nipple and he just squeezed.

I screamed and came as he watched my face, seized by waves of contraction, then I slumped limply on him like a bedraggled flower. And all the time he pulled my nipples, extracting every last gasp of pleasure out of me.

“Oh God,” I said. ‘Oh God I liked that…”

He smiled.

Later my Dad asked what Henry had wanted me for.

I said help with his supper.

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