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Passing in and out of the house where I had a room, I frequently noticed an attractive young lady with dark hair, who appealed to me very much.
At the very first I was so much attracted to her I failed to notice how she ogled me and the peculiar expression in her eyes whenever she looked my way. Then I concluded she was interested.
I began to study her. On closer observation I noticed that she was really quite pretty in a way and that she possessed a tempting figure and was of medium height. One evening, as we were both returning to our respective rooms I noticed her attire and discovered that she had the room next to mine looking out onto a narrow balcony. She was attractively dressed in a light summer dress with short sleeves and the neck was cut low enough to reveal a plumpness of her bust. I tarried in the hall to let her precede me up the stairs.
Her rather short skirt displayed a pair of neat, trim ankles and a pretty pair of shapely legs fitted in sheer smooth stockings. A pretty, leg always made me long to see more and I usually got a hunch as to whether or not I could feel it. I managed to get a long look as she slowly preceded me up the stairs, which were of two flights.
When we reached the top I spoke. “Pardon me and my boldness, but I would really like to know the girl with such a pretty figure. You are most attractive.”
She gasped and turned a frightened look toward me. I then got a good look at her face by means of the light overhead. I noted a peculiar languorous look in her dark eyes. Her face had all the marks of a nature which was more or less sensual.
I detected a look of lecherous longing as her eyes swept over me as if she were sizing me up. I made up my mind right then to get close to this beautiful girl. Her voice trembled and her bosom heaved with apparent emotions as she softly murmured, “I am Miss. Taylor… who are you?” I introduced myself in my usual debonair manner, which seemed to attract her. “May I have the pleasure of calling on you?”
“Sometime,” she bashfully answered as she passed through her door and closed it.
I noticed that she did not lock her door, having probably forgotten in her confusion. I entered my room and for the very first time noticed the very thin partition between it and Miss. Taylor’s room. I later heard strange sounds like moans from a woman in distress. Then I distinctly heard a one… sided conversation: she was apparently talking to herself and this is what I heard: “Oh… Oh… if I could only have a lover like that man,” she said trembling. “He… he… is so big and handsome.”
I could hear her voice shake, as if she was under some great strain or emotion. I remembered the sensual expression on her face as the languorous dreamy pathetic eyes swept over me. Surely, I thought, the poor girl is in heat and apparently craves relief. While I was preparing for bed and removing my shoes, my eyes caught sight of a register in the partition, evidently used in the winter to allow a circulation of warm air. Upon examining it, I found that it opened very easily and through the grill frame I had a wide view of Miss.’s room. In my range of vision I saw the bed and an upholstered chair of generous capacity. Opposite this was a bureau with a large tilting mirror.
Miss. Taylor was standing before the mirror, slowly removing her blouse and gazing intently with that same languorous look at some pictures on the wall on either side of the mirror. Peering intently I discovered that they were pictures of men, three of a stalwart pugilist in different poses stripped, but with a sash to hide his bulging genitals. Other pictures were of actors presumably movie idols, but the girl’s eyes lingered on the nude and muscular figure of the pugilist.
I saw her full red lips move as if she were talking to the fighter. Lifting up a pair of pretty white boobies out of her bra, she bounced them up and down then spoke in a low hysterical voice. “Oh, Jack, see my titties… come… to… me… and… fondle them.”
I was no longer puzzled. The girl was hot and she was calling to Jack, the pugilist, as an imaginary lover. Her thoughts were lustily centered on the fleshy pleasures such a body would impart if she could but hold it in her arms and feel the strong sexual embrace and enjoyment that might result. In her impulsive emotions the girl tore off her bras and then slipped out of her dress and drawers. She stood there revealed in nothing but her stockings and under… vest, which she quickly removed. When I saw what a fine built young girl she was, that settled it. She had to be gratified. I lay on my back so I could better contemplate with ease what might transpire in the girl’s room.
She was about twenty and I could plainly see her white nude body, rich in lovely contours and graceful curves, together with a very disturbing view of her dark thickly haired pussy and her white cherry tipped boobies. They made me rampant and my tool was standing straight up. Ataşehir Escort I doubtless would have made a rush through the door to the girl if my curiosity had not gotten the better of me. I gasped when I saw her press her hand to her pussy and insert a finger and again gaze at the picture of the pugilist as she vigorously rubbed and worked her finger in and out.
Her feelings were getting the better of her and she was so worked up to a pitch of passionate frenzy, a wave of erotic emotion spread a lovely glow over her shapely charms. As if suddenly thinking of something, she unlocked the bureau drawers and extracted a book and a small packet from which she selected several pictures, evidently an obscene book, as I later discovered.
Reclining on the edge of the bed, with one leg hanging over the side, she switched on a reading lamp over her head, which gave me a brilliantly lighted view of the girl’s tempting and sensual body in a voluptuous pose. The line of my vision took in every detail of a plump and well bushed cunny between a pair of lovely white thighs. The contrast of the dark thick curls made her belly and thighs appear like alabaster.
Adjusting her pillow, the girl began reading, holding two of the pictures on the edge of the book, leaving her right hand free. Occasionally, she would gloat on her own charms reflected in the tilting mirror. At the same time she would pinch and titillate the stiff red nipples of her firm round boobies.
The swelling, curly mons and pretty round belly began to rise and fall with convulsions and erotic longing as she gloated over the book and pictures. Inflamed to a frenzy the girl’s hand slipped down and covered her restless pussy. Then with her middle finger she sought to appease her passions with a rapid nervous thrust and pressure on the burning clitty. Suddenly, apparently she read a passage in her book which inflamed the poor girl, she gasped aloud. I heard a smothered cry… “Oh, how lovely… how I’d… like… to… be… in her place.” Then holding the pictures close she gazed with languorous eyes and clasped the whole of the plump cunny in her hand with two fingers in it, squeezing it hard.
The heavy breathing and groans told me of her approaching crisis. Dropping the pictures, her head went back to the pillows. Her limbs twitched and quivered. The pretty boobies trembled. Then with a convulsive heave and choking expressions of pleasure, as “… Oh… Oh… how… good,” spasm after spasm of voluptuous ecstasy swept over her in a thrilling orgasm.
She trembled and shivered terrifically, holding her hand very tightly over her cunny for a short while and then seemed to die away in a languorous doze for a few minutes, when she finally picked up her book and continued to read on again until she was so worked up that she was as frantic for relief as before. All the time she had held her hand on her moist cunny, though without moving it at all. Occasionally, she would pick up the pictures again and look at them and then go back to her book. This she kept up for some little time, for the book was apparently very interesting.
Finally, however, she threw down the book and began frigging herself in real earnest. Her magnificent boobies she could just pull up so as to make her lips grasp the nipples and these she sucked hard, at the same time playing her fingers around her cunny. Then she used one hand to inflame her clitoris and with the other hand she inserted a finger deep in her cunny until, judging by her emotions, she was coming. She frantically drove three fingers deep into it and worked them in and out fast until she died away in a glorious orgasm.
The sight was too much for me. I was lying on my back and was naked. I had become so inflamed and highly sensitized that the scene was like a match to dry powder. My erect and well primed penis went off and shot stretches of pearly juice high into the air. It was all that I could do to withhold a cry of delight, for the cum and the sensations accompanying it was terrific. My cum fell in little puddles all over my belly as I watched the throes and last tremors of the gratified girl. She got up, put on her nightgown and replacing the book and pictures in the bureau drawer, retired.
I quietly closed the register and crawled into bed. In the morning I awoke with my usual morning hard on and lay awake planning how to have Miss. Taylor and to get a glimpse of her book and pictures. I heard her go out at 7:30. Getting up and dressing I took the key to my bureau drawer, feeling sure that it would also fit her drawer. Going to her door I found it unlocked. Entering and closing the door I tried the key. It fit. I found the book that the girl had been reading and the package of pictures.
The book was that erotic effusion called The Education of Laura and was intended to inflame passion and instruct girls in sexual pleasures. The photos were faithful pictures of men and women together in all the various positions known Ataşehir Escort Bayan of coupling.
No wonder I thought that she was a masturbator. But why she resorted to it was a mystery to me, for she was a girl to attract any man sexually. I made my plans to see her that evening, when she would return from work. She returned and dressed for dinner in a most attractive dress and for some unknown reason left off her bra.
Apparently, she was prone to making herself attractive to men. On this occasion she wore very little under a thin organdy dress, through which could be seen the distinct outlines of a remarkably well shaped leg and thigh. She also left off her panties. It might have been that she wanted to make a hit with me, but that I didn’t know yet. She was standing in the main hall before the open front door when I came out of the dining room. My alert eye caught the alluring view as the light showed through the girl’s skirts, outlining the attractive curves and contours.
Passing out on the large veranda where there were chairs, all occupied but one, which Miss. Taylor took, I seated myself on a step below and facing her. Glancing up I had a tantalizing view of the bare knees, which were crossed in careless girlish pose. Several times I caught glimpses of a dark brown tuft between the plump white thighs. I was getting too conspicuously uncomfortable and randy… fox comfort. She noticed the restless shifting and gloating eyes as I glanced up.
She too, got restless. The fact that I was watching her with lustful longing aroused all the sensual fires in her passionate body. Did I really like her was probably the girl’s thoughts as she watched me out of half… closed eyes. Strategy was one of my strong assets. Suddenly, I arose and asked her to take a stroll to get an ice… cream. At first she demurred then bashfully consented. Once out on the street she became a little more sociable.
“If you don’t mind, Mister Adams, I’d like to have a ginger… ale high… ball,” she said as we walked along.
“Sure thing, my dear,” I answered. “Sodas are not much good when one is as uncomfortable as we are. By the way, what is your first name?”
“Miss.,” replied the girl. For an hour she conversed and showed absolutely no signs of the seething desires that were teasing her young pussy. Her nature was not revealed. On the way home I took her arm, delicately passing my hand up and down the soft cool flesh.
“Miss., dear,” I said to her in my tenderest way, “may I sit with you in your room tonight? I have something most important to tell you.”
The poor girl got so frightened and flushed she almost collapsed, but answered in a low trembling tone. “I… I don’t know… would… would it be safe?”
“Why, my dear girl, I hope you are not afraid of me and no one would know anything about it in your room.” I said reassuringly. She said nothing but I could detect a tumultuous storm in the heaving of her firm round boobies and trembling steps. Reaching the house I begged her to remain on the steps until I got to my room then when hearing her enter her room I would call. She followed the instructions to the letter.
I knocked on the door. I then heard a fluttering voice: “C… Come in.” When I stood before her in a white silk shirt turned down at the neck and short sleeves and wearing blue flannel trousers that displayed my muscular limbs, Miss gasped and almost fainted, but finally said: “Oh, Mister Adams, I have never allowed a man in my room before. Tell me what you want with a poor working girl like me? You are so big and handsome that you embarrass me.”
The door was closed and covered with drapery that smothered out all sounds of voices from within. Miss remained standing as I stepped up to her side and anxious of my opportunity to begin, I said, “My dear little girl, what I am going to say is for your own good and safety.” She again got frightened, her eyes usually so languorous and wide, her scarlet lips hung apart as she breathlessly waited.
“My dear Miss,” I said tenderly, “do you know that you are doing yourself an awful injury and injustice every time you indulge your passions as you did last night?”
The frightened and surprised girl gasped, “My God!” and then fainted. I caught her in my arms and picking her up, I sat down in a large easy chair and held the unconscious girl on my lap. The feeling of her soft braless body and pressure of the soft round bottom on my penis inflamed me instantly.
My tool stiffened and assumed its splendid throbbing proportions. Reaching for a bottle of smelling salts I saw on the bureau, I held it to her nose then rubbed her hands. Pulling up her skirts I slapped and squeezed the plump dimpled knees. My other hand was moulding a lovely tittie. My lips were grazing a velvety cheek. Presently Miss showed signs of reviving. I fondled her bare knees with affectionate caresses and pressures on the nerves that I knew would excite sensations of passion, moving Escort Ataşehir my hand always further up. Her flesh was like the softest velvet.
My rampant tool was moving and bounding against her little pussy. Of course, she could feel it through her clothing. Her eyes opened. She drew a long breath and cuddled closer to me then in a frightened voice she asked, “Where am I? What has happened?”
“In your lover’s arms, who thinks you are the most beautiful and sweetest little peach in the world. Kiss me, Miss.” I said.
She didn’t speak, but I could tell that she was gradually warming up from her restless breathing and squirming bottom, but she did not want me to know it. She was shy and somewhat frightened at the suddenness of the situation. Finally, when she remembered what I had told her of the night before, she straightened out and putting on an air of injury from the liberty and accusation, she simulated resentment, but she knew that she was guilty.
“How do you know… how can you… say… such a thing?” How dare you?”
I was amused.
“Why my dear,” I replied, “it was very easy. I was in my room and I overheard your moans and cries. I was alarmed and seeing that register I took a chance of looking through it to ascertain the trouble and what I saw you doing to yourself made me feel terrible to think that a lovely young girl like you would injure yourself in that way. Tell me Miss, why do you do it, when you can have a lover?”
Then with a trembling voice and tears in her dark eyes, she related how she had been taught to gratify her passions, that all her life she had been a victim of uncontrollable passions… that because a girlfriend had once let a man have her and she became pregnant and she was always afraid to let a man have her out of fear.
“Why, Perry, that same girl always after that gratified herself with her fingers. She was like me, always hot and it was she who taught me to do it to myself, giving me naughty books and pictures she got from a man. Is it any wonder that I do it?”
“Not a bit,” I answered. “But don’t you know that you could have a man without serious results?”
“No! How?” cried the girl. I then explained if a girl indulged her passions with a man in the week before her periods or used a strong solution for a douche before and after each time, she would be perfectly safe.
The effect of my hand on her knees and my throbbing tool had so inflamed Miss she was in a tumultuous flutter. “OO… oo, Perry,” she gasped. “I must tell my friend Trixie.”
Then winding her arms about me and kissed me with her moist red lips, clinging to me with ardent longing. Suddenly and with impulsive emotions, Miss parted her thighs and whispered, “Fondle me… Perry… I… I’m… I’m so horny.”
I laid my hand over the curly plump nest. “Oh, Perry… put your finger into it… and make me cum.”
“Ah, no, my dear,” I said. “I’m going to break you of that habit. It’s not good nor healthy for you and besides it’s not natural. Why can’t we have the real pleasures together? It’s so much lovelier?”
“Oh, Perry, I’d like to, but I’m afraid. I’d surely get caught and I’ve never done that in my life. I haven’t even seen a real live thing, only the pictures that I have.”
“Well, my dear girl,” I said, “First it is not a thing. It is a penis or cock or prick. Do you want to see one and even have it in you and make you feel so good… oh so good, better than you have ever felt when you did it with your finger?”
“Oh, heavens, yes. I’m just insane for it, but I’m too scared of it.”
I had been fondling her smooth round belly and tickling her highly sensitive clitty. I stopped and asked her to let me stand up and show her something that beat a finger or candle all to bits. Curious and eager with passion to see what she had seen in hot lascivious dreams, the girl stood leaning against a long library table as I lowered my trousers and released my prodigious tool. It popped out and stood proudly erect and flaming with fiery vigor.
The girl, with eyes aflame with wonder and interest, just stood and gazed. Her face was a study, first blushing a deep scarlet then the moist crimson lips hung loose then distorted with fear. Her face lighted up with a hungry gleam of lustful passion.
With a choking gulp Miss managed to speak in a half whisper: “Heavens, Perry, it doesn’t look anything like those in my pictures, but it’s glorious, a monster. My God! How can a girl take it? I never saw a real live one before.”
I moved towards the girl and she almost shrank. “Feel it, girlie,” I said. “It won’t hurt you.”
Slyly and with girlish modesty, Miss placed her hand on it. Her fingers just barely encircling it. They slipped along until her hand held the turgid purple knob in its palm. She squeezed it then gasped, her panting boobies heaving and rising and falling in a tumult of erotic sensations.
Remembering some of the lewd acts shown in the photos and described in her book, Miss became very eager.
“May I kiss it, Perry?” she asked.
“Why, of course, if you’ll let me kiss yours.” I replied.
“Oh! Where? When? How?”
I quickly cleared the table and placed some cushions upon it.
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