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Thankfully my Mother never heard me come in that night nor my sobs as I drifted off to sleep. She did however find my little black dress when she poked her head around the door in the morning and tutted when she saw the snags and pulls on the back of it. My heart froze as my mind shot back to being pressed up against that rough brick wall, with the dress rucked up around my hips and Bill driving his cock into me. I mumbled something about slipping over; so Mum said I should be more careful before she picked it up and told me she’d see about taking it back to the shop and getting it changed for a new one. Later that morning I nervously went through the wash basket and checked it for cum stains. Thankfully there weren’t any!
I remember going to Church that Sunday and praying to God. Praying that I wasn’t a lesbian. It seems laughable looking back now, but the anguish I was feeling at the time was terrible. I avoided going out for weeks, dodged phone calls – even from Jenny – and tried to concentrate on being the girl I wanted to be: hard working, honest and pure. I threw myself into finding a job and told myself that the last few months had been an awful mistake and that perhaps – if I was good – I could start again and one day meet a boy, get married and it would be like I was still a virgin all over again.
After two or three weeks of sitting in front of the TV with Mum on weekends I began to weaken. My Mum began to nag me, asking me why I wasn’t going out and why wasn’t I returning any of my friends phone calls?
At night, alone in bed, my mind often drifted back to Spain; back to Cliff, his cock and all those dirty things he said to me. My fingers would slip between my legs and, eyes shut tightly, I’d live those moments again until I silently orgasmed over my flicking fingertips.
Then Jenny came around to see me. Not so much out of concern for me but more to tell me what she’s been up to. Her big news was that a few of the Scots lads were coming down for a visit, including her ‘boyfriend’ Fraser and the guy who’d been writing to me, Keith. Jenny pleaded with me to at least pretend to like him, but I surprised her by saying I didn’t mind. He’d been polite and kind to me on holiday and, now I’d said to myself I was going to be a ‘good girl’, Keith was exactly the type of boy I should be spending my time with from now on.
I was uneasy about asking how her recent weekend had went as I didn’t want to talk about Fraser and have her ask me what I thought of him. At the same time I couldn’t say anything that would look odd too. I was in a constant state of worry, thinking whether Jenny would work out that I’d had sex with her boyfriend. As it turned out, she was pretty quiet about her time in Scotland so I didn’t press her further. Some of the girls told me later that her whole weekend had been spent in bed in bed with Fraser in the hotel. They met nobody else and never went out. I said nothing but thought that a little strange and understood why she seemed a little disappointed.
A week later the Scots lads arrived, checking into a Hotel and arranging to meet us all in a Pub nearby. In his last letter Keith, who had driven half of the lads down in his car, had already told me he would pick me up at 7.30. While I was in the shower, the doorbell rang. It was only 6.30 and he was here… a full hour early! I could hear the mumble of conversation downstairs as I got ready and I remember wondering what on earth Keith and my Mum would be talking about. When I finally popped my head into the kitchen I found them talking about, of all things, religion. Keith, it turned out was an enthusiastic Presbyterian, which my devoutly Catholic Mother found fascinating. To add to my surprise, as we went out to the car my Mother whispered in my ear that he was a “lovely boy”, that I was welcome to ask him in for a cup of tea when we came back and that in future he was welcome to stay with us and not to go spending his money on hotel rooms!
We all met up at a trendy bar in town and then went onto a nightclub. Keith was the butt of several of his friend’s jokes but was able to handle it. I caught Fraser’s eye a few times but quickly turned away. It was a pretty uneventful evening, nothing like the wild nights out with the girls I’d been experiencing in the weeks before, but that suited me. I stayed relatively sober and was happy to leave with Keith, even when some of the others talked about going back to the hotel ‘for a party’ as we all left the club.
Keith drove me home and, as my Mother had given her approval, I asked him in for a cup of tea. The lights were off as I opened the door. Mum must have gone to bed. I showed Keith into the living room and a few minutes later, brought in two cups of tea. We sat next to each other on the sofa, quietly chatting away with the radio playing softly in the background. Up until his point Keith had acted the perfect gentleman; no leading comments, no looking down my top, not even a squeeze when we were dancing. I was pleased he was like this; not casino şirketleri like the other guys I’d been with but now, sitting here alone, I began to feel a little puzzled.
‘Does he fancy me at all?’ I thought to myself. ‘Maybe he just sees me as a friend?’
I can’t really explain why I did what I did next as it was completely out of character. Maybe it was mischief or curiosity but as he spoke, I looked deep into his blue eyes and started to have thoughts about him. Dirty Thoughts.
A little devil inside me came alive and I changed the subject.
“Keith” I said slowly “did you enjoy tonight, being with me I mean?”
“Aye” he replied in a broad Scots accent; “I’ve ‘hud’ a great night. How do ye mean?”
My mind was ticking over. I wanted him to ‘do’ something, say something at least. Much as I liked the idea of being a good girl and having a boyfriend who respected me, the reality of it wasn’t what I wanted at all. Keith still wasn’t taking the bait so, playing the innocent, I continued.
“Its just, I don’t know, I wonder sometimes if you really like me?” I coyly asked.
Keith put down his cup of tea and held my hand. He looked at me and said in his soft Scottish accent
“Oh Kathleen, I adore you”
It was the loveliest thing anyone had ever said to me (and, looking back, still is) and I stared back at him, waiting for him to lean towards me and kiss me but he didn’t. I hesitated, not wanting to be the one to make the first move but now genuinely perplexed at what to do next.
“Really” I replied, half-touched by what he’d said, half-thinking what to do next. “Its just, you know, its hard to tell………” I left the sentence unfinished.
He held both my hands.
“Och Kathleen, look …ah know whit yer maybe thinkin, that am no tryin tae make a move on ye, but I really like ye so much I don’t want tae spoil things and…….and…..”
He tailed off. I narrowed my eyes a little as he looked away.
“What is it?” I asked, now really bemused with him. He turned back to me.
“Its just I don’t believe in em, ‘relations’ before marriage Kathleen.” H mumbled in a low tone before adding “…not that I thought that’s what was gonna happen though!”
I smiled and looked down. ‘Relations before marriage!’ I thought to myself. Even the expression was laughable, never mind the actual idea. A tiny part of me went ‘Ahhh’ as I rolled his words over in my mind, pleased that someone in the world actually felt that way and believed it. The little devil in me though was in control and wicked thoughts went through my mind.
“Oh right” I sighed “Oh that’s alright then. Gosh, I was beginning to think it was me”
“No no Kathleen, I think you’re wonderful, I really do” he replied.
I looked down into my cleavage and added quietly “or these?”
There was a silence in the room. Keith managed an awkward ‘Erm’ before I interrupted him again.
“You know, they’re so big and horrible, I know they must be very off putting for guys. I remember you looking at them when we were on holiday and then seeing all the other girls, I can understand if you prefer…”
Keith was flustered and starting to go red. “Err no, not at all Kathleen” he stammered.
This was all new to me, being a tease, but I was secretly enjoying this, knowing full well what I was doing to him. I brought my hands up to my boobs and cupped them gently. “Really? You mean you really like them?” I said coyly.
“Oh God aye” he said, looking at my boobs before realising what he was doing, then shooting his eyes up to mine. He mumbled a ‘sorry’ before I soothed him with “that’s all right” and then, delighted with myself and the way I was steering things added “you can touch them you know, it’s all right, I don’t mind”
My heart was starting to thump at what I’d just come out with. I was asking him to touch my boobs. Me! Taking the lead! I looked at him and his eyes moved back down to my boobs. I slipped my hands away from them and pushed my chest out for him, inviting him to touch them. I watched him triumphantly as he slowly brought one hand up, sliding it over my soft breast before squeezing it gently. I sighed and then finally we kissed. Slowly at first, then more passionately, his hand now squeezing my boob more firmly.
“Ooh yeah” I whispered, keeping up my seduction “that feels so good Keith”
We carried on kissing, Keith still squeezing one breast through my blouse and bra. I soon became impatient with this though and again, took it as stage further when I broke away from our kisses and brought my hands up and began to unbutton my silky top. After one button, I stopped and looking him in the eye breathed “Do you want to do….. it?”
Hands shaking a little, he undid the tiny buttons on my blouse, revealing my white lacy bra. His hands slipped over the material, now gently squeezing both my large boobs before kissing me again and going back to squeezing just one. We carried on like this for a while before I again casino firmaları made the next move and unclipped my bra-strap, finally releasing my boobs from their confines. Keith’s hand moved under the loose material, letting it ride up and exposing my soft white boobs and tiny pink nipples to his stare. He touched them ever so lightly before I cupped the back of his head with my hand and guided his face down to them. I looked down as his mouth closed around one nipple, sucking it gently, teasing its tip with his soft tongue.
I gently stroked his hair as his lips worked on my nipples, switching from one to the other. It felt great, not only physically but also the satisfaction I was getting this ‘nice guy’ to do things he would never imagine doing otherwise. It was so deliciously naughty corrupting him. I encouraged him on, purring the occasional “ooh” and “of yeah, that’s it” as he sucked my tiny nips into his mouth, wondering now if he’d go further. He didn’t.
Impatience — and tingling boobs — made me take the next step. I slid my right hand down onto his thigh, then slowly ran it up to his crotch. My heart was thumping at what I was doing and, on feeling the hardness of his cock beneath the fabric of his trousers, I felt Keith jolt with surprise. He paused for a second, my nipple still between his lips, then I slowly traced the length of his cock with my fingers. I noticed his breathing quicken as I did this then, as I found the top of his fly, I carefully pulled it down …then slipped my small hand inside.
This time he did stop and pulled away from my boobs, bringing his face up to mine. He went to say something; but before he could I kissed him, pulling him towards me. I knew he was about to tell me to stop or something like that and I didn’t want that. Kissing him deeply, I fished around inside his underwear (men’s pants are so awkward at times aren’t they?) before finding a gap and then the hot hardness of his bare cock. Trying not to be too rough, I pulled it out and then broke away from our kiss. We both looked down at his now-exposed cock in my hand. It was so bad of me doing this in my own front room, my Mum sleeping upstairs, but I felt so excited at the same time. With my little fingers wrapped around its length, I moved my hand up and down, just like I’d down with Cliff. I stole quick kisses from Keith as I did then pulled away to watch what I was doing. Neither of us said anything as I pumped his cock there on my Mums sofa, the two cups of tea sitting untouched on the low table in front of the telly. I was feeling so pleased with myself as I did this, so very grown up for taking the lead with Keith who was actually five years older than me. As we kissed again, my mind wandered as to what I should do next?
Should I put it in my mouth? I’d been thinking about that ever since seeing Jenny suck Fraser’s cock out in Spain and I wondered if now ‘was the time’? Should I ask him? The words ‘do you want me to suck it?’ went through my mind and I thought it would be ever so dirty to say them. I never got the chance.
With our mouths together, I heard him give a low moan. My eyes opened as I felt a warm stickiness on my hand. I pulled away and Keith let an almost-painful sounding ‘AaaahhhhH!’ escape as I saw little gobs of cum ooze out from the little hole at the top of his cock. I continued to pump my hand as more and more came out but it wasn’t like the big shots of spunk I’d seen Cliff and Jim produce. It was just dribbling out, down over my fingers and onto his trousers and I remember feeling quite disappointed that it was like this.
Eventually it stopped and so did I. Keith sat back panting while I took my cummy hand away and looked for something to wipe it on. I felt quite deflated as we both cleaned ourselves up, poor Keith with silvery smears all over his black trousers. Instead of the excitement I’d felt only moments before, I now just felt dissatisfaction. Not so much in a sexual way, more that all my ‘work’ had been cut short in such an abrupt manner. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt like this (and it wouldn’t be the last).
Keith too wasn’t behaving as I’d hoped. He didn’t say it was good or anything like that. Instead he seemed quieter than ever, like he was ashamed almost of what had happened. Awkwardly, he mumbled some thing about getting back to the hotel and I nodded and, after an equally awkward kiss, he was gone.
I lay in bed going over what had happened. Had I gone too far? Why did I have to behave like that? He was a genuinely nice guy. He’d said he’d ‘adored me’. And yet, for all the respect and sweet things he’d done for me, all I could think of in return was getting him to play with my boobs and wank off his cock. What was the matter with me?
The next day we all met for a Pub lunch before the lads all drove back to Scotland. Jenny was full of beans again, whispering in my ear that I’d “never believe what she did last night” and that a few of the other girls had “got off with” some of the Scots boys. I remember being güvenilir casino confused as to what that meant? Had they just paired off? Or snogged? Or had sex? I never felt brave enough to actually ask.
Keith came over and we sat away from the others. I felt anxious about what he was going to say. Would he tell me I was a slut for doing such a dirty thing to him and that he never wanted to see me again? Or would he throw his arms around me and tell me how brilliantly good at giving wanks I was! (Well, you never know…). Instead it was something in between. He held my hands and told me that he’d never had anything like that happen to him before and he was sorry about leaving the way he did and it was because he was confused. I asked him to explain more and he told me he’d been brought up not to believe in sex outside marriage but then said that what had happened was “very special”.
“I want to keep seeing you” he said “…if you do too that is?”
I nodded and he hugged and kissed and then, within a few hours, he was driving back to Scotland. I spent the rest of that Sunday afternoon in the Pub with the girls, having drinks and swapping stories. I found out exactly what ‘getting off’ meant as Jill and Lynn and a few others all went over the previous night in the most graphic way. Jill had sex with one of the taller guys back in his hotel room.
“God, he had my arse right up in the air over the edge of the bed” she shrieked, not worried that the whole Pub could hear her. “Fuckin ‘ell, I thought his cock was gonna come out me mouth it was so Fuckin long!”
The girls all whooped with laughter at her filthy language and stories and Lynn added that she was in the bathroom with any other lad while his was going on. She was holding onto to the toilet, listening to Jill outside.
“You try getting fucked and holding onto a cistern at the same time. It ain’t easy. The lid kept slipping off and then you’ve got ‘er outside telling him to fuck her harder!”
The stories got worse. One girl, Doreen (who hadn’t even been on the holiday!), went back to the hotel with a lad, found that he couldn’t get into his room and so had sex with him in the corridor!
“It was fucking mad!” she squealed “ever time he got it up me the fucking lift opened and we had to stop. I’m pulling me jeans up over me arse while this old couple come walking past! In the end I ended up sucking him off cos I was getting fed up having to keep pulling me jeans up an’ down!”
I remember feeling very red-faced listening to them. Very turned on and, I’m ashamed to say, quite jealous. Why didn’t I have a night like that instead I thought? Then the conversation turned to me.
“So how was it with Keith then? Coffee and kick-out?” said one of the girls
“Nah, not our Kathleen” said Jill “Bet she had him on the couch, legs up in the air saying ‘do it all over me big boy!’ eh Kath?”
I blushed as she recalled that night weeks before in the back of a car.
“I don’t think so” piped up Lynn “he’s not like that is he Kath?” before adding to the others “yeah, the other lads all call him ‘the Minister’ or something like that cos he’s not into it, ain’t that right Kath?”
I gave a half-smile and said something about him being a really nice guy before Jill said “Fucking ‘ell Kath, you wanna get your money back an find yourself one that works!”
More laughter followed and I joined in too but, deep inside, I felt embarrassed that it was apparently common knowledge that my new ‘boyfriend’ was a goody-two-shoes who didn’t have sex with girls. And I certainly wasn’t going to humiliate both myself and him by going over my feeble seduction of my reluctant man and his equally feeble orgasm in my hand.
Jenny, like me, was tight-lipped when it came to sharing stories about the night before but that was for different reasons – if anything she had too much to talk about (later in the week, she phoned me and told me that he’d put his cock up inside her bottom!).
And so the afternoon turned into the evening. The loud voices and dirty stories eventually attracted a group of guys over and we all drank more and laughed more. Some of the girls drifted away because they had work the next day. Others, like me who only had application forms to post off, stayed. By the end of the night a guy who’d been chatting me up, was kissing me in the Pub. I was pretty drunk by now and, although I knew it was time to go, the pent-up frustration of listening to my friends all afternoon was being released by the Bacardi Breezers and his attentions. I remember him squeezing me boobs at one stage – he didn’t need me to guide him that’s for sure – before one of the girls telling me that we’d better go outside and wait for our cab. The guy came out with me – he was quite good looking, in his mid-twenties I reckoned with short blonde hair – and, while Lynn and what remained of the rest of the girls stood smoking fags, I found myself in a corner of the car park with his hand down the front of my jeans, fingering my moist slit.
“Fuck you’re wet!” I remember him saying as his fingers slipped inside me. I rubbed my hands over the front of his jeans, feeling the unmistakable outline of a big, hard cock within, and unzipped his fly to release it.
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