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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Jamie
by Magus (hypocratic_oath@yahoo.co.uk)
***
Not your every day story of boy meets girl. Is it
really wrong? (Ff, ped, 1st-lesbian-expr, mast, oral)
***
It's a day which will stay fresh in my mind for the
rest of my life; it was life-changing, and led to the
most interesting winter I'd ever had. My name is Laura,
and I have the best job in the world, well, I think so
anyway. I'm a tennis professional. Well, I say
professional, but to be honest it's rare that you'll
see me qualify for any of the big tournaments. But I
guess I do ok, I get paid for coaching; I have a full
time job in a very swanky health club near Manchester,
and I occasionally do ok in local tournaments. But I
love it, tennis is my life.
As you can imagine, I keep fit, it goes with the job,
but I allow myself fun too; I get the odd glass of
wine, and still manage to maintain my figure despite
the odd naughty takeaway. I don't earn fortunes, but I
have managed to squeeze a decent lifestyle into limited
means by careful planning. I'm still only 25, but have
a funky little coupe cabriolet (bright pink would you
believe?), and a 3rd floor apartment in a suburban
cotton mill renovation; it's my pride and joy, two bed
(master ensuite), cool modern kitchen and open plan
living space with floor to ceiling windows. The view
isn't great, but looks lovely at night when all the
street lights are lit.
I guess I'm a good looking girl as I attract the right
kind of glances, and have always been blessed with my
choice of men, rather than being left scraping the
barrel. I'm 5'7", have long straight natural blonde
hair, dark brown eyes, fair skin and a size 8 figure
I'm proud of. I'm told my bum and legs are my best
attributes, and I'm happy with my body, with the
possible exception of my slightly small b/c cup boobs –
but they're firm so I can live with it. I'm not into
surgery though so they'll stay. As my Mum used to tell
me when I was a teenager in angst – at least they won't
get saggy when I'm older.
Most of my life is spent in jog pants, polo shirts and
trainers (or sneakers if you're from over the pond!).
Nature of the beast; not the most flattering daily
attire, but I do make a point of rolling over the tops
of my pants to ensure just a hint of ass can be seen,
and also buying slightly short t-shirts to show off
that hard earned firm flat belly which seems to direct
the gaze of most men.
Anyway, I was telling you about THAT day. It was mid-
week and mid-afternoon. The club was fairly quiet, a
few women in the spa having treatments, a couple of
swimmers, the usual suspects in the gym on free-weights
and a gang of young lads on the all-weather outdoor
surface playing a rather rough and tumble game of
football (or should that be soccer?)
I had just one lesson with a retired chap and his wife,
Dr. and Mrs. Razia. They were very well to do and not
bad company on a dull December afternoon, but I was
increasingly surprised by just how much ogling he got
away with without his wife noticing. I normally wore a
white tennis skirt and polo shirt (one which covered my
belly for work) and he would take every opportunity to
stare at my legs or get an eyeful when I bent down for
balls. I wasn't offended, if anything I was amused.
Anyway, they played better that afternoon, and Mrs.
Razia was starting to get the hang of the volley. After
they left I used the sales office to catch up on my
diary and invoicing – a task which I don't enjoy, and
so occasionally get behind with. After about an hour I
headed off for a shower. The changing rooms are the
lower ground floor next to the pools, so I had to go
right through the club. The squash courts and tennis
courts were empty – midweek was hard work at this time
of year. Just wait till January, I thought, the place
will be packed to the rafters with Christmas guilt! As
I walked through the bar area there were just a few
couples enjoying a drink, and some of the teenage boys
from the football game were watching the TV. Even the
pool was empty.
When I went into the changing room, I thought at first
I was alone. I picked up a few deserted towels and put
them in the laundry bins, I kicked closed a few of the
locker doors as I made my way round to the last square
of lockers, nearest the showers, where I kept a
permanent locker. As I rounded the corner, I was
surprised to see someone else sat there.
She was in football kit, so I guessed she had been
playing with the boys outside. She'd kicked off her
boots and her long white football socks sat limp and
muddy round her ankles. Her shorts and shirt were Man
Utd's latest; her shorts were just a little tighter
than usual as was her shirt. I wondered to myself if
she knew and had done it deliberately. It was hard to
tell at a glance how old she was, she could have been
12 or 20. Her hair was cut short in a boy-cut, messy on
top with an equally messy fringe falling over her face.
Her face was cherubic, slim and lean, but with a
roundness betraying her youth. Her mouth was small and
sweet with plump pink lips. She had clearly started to
develop and the tightness of her shirt suggested she
was quite proud of the modest bumps she was showing
off. Her legs were lean and tight and boyish, but were
lightly tanned and smooth as marble – I thought to
myself that she must drive the boys mad playing with
them looking like that.
I'd noticed all of this with just a casual glance as
I'd walked round the corner. I'm not one to stare,
especially in the changing rooms of a health club, so I
just went to my locker and began to get out my shower
kit; towel, shampoo, conditioner – you know what I
mean. As I was doing so I heard a faint sob and turned
to see the girl with her head in her hands.
"Are you ok, sweetheart?" I asked, as gently as I
could.
The girl snapped her head up, seemingly surprised at
the sound of my voice. She must have known I was there,
but perhaps was immersed in her own reverie and was
just taken aback by me speaking.
"I'm fine, I just hurt my back!" As she answered me,
she looked up and for a moment my heart stopped. This
girl had the most devastatingly beautiful eyes I have
ever seen in my life. They were big and round, with
dark long almost unnaturally thick lashes framing them.
But it was their colour which stunned me – the most
beautiful, amazing emerald green. I was seriously
jealous. I noticed though that they were full of tears,
ready to overflow and I knew she was fighting them. I
went over and sat on the bench opposite her.
"You don't seem fine," I observed with raised eyebrows,
"can I help with anything?"
"I just fell when I was playing football and grazed my
back. I don't want to get in the shower because it
really hurts."
"Want me to take a look at it?" I asked, innocently.
She nodded and stood up, turning to present me with her
bum at about my eye level. The shorts did nothing to
hide the fact that she had a really firm ass – no
wonder the boys didn't mind her playing with them. She
raised her shirt up gingerly, and I could see a really
nasty graze running down her back and below the
waistband of her shorts.
"Wow! That looks really sore, I should get a first-
aider to have a look at that, maybe clean it a little
and put some Germolene on it or something." I was
convinced it needed cleaning at the very least.
She let her shirt fall down and turned to look at me
rather sheepishly.
"Can't you do it?"
Well, I was a first-aider, even if I wasn't on the rota
this week. I used the telephone in the cleaners office
and rang my Duty Manager explaining what I was doing
(better safe than sorry in this day and age). I put my
things back in the locker and took the young girl to
the First Aid room which was by the poolside. We went
in and I sat at the small desk and filled in an
accident report. I found out that she was called Jamie
and was 10 days shy of her 15th birthday, News Years
Day no less. She lived in a reasonably middle-class
area not too far from the club.
I finished up the paperwork and went to the cupboard to
get out some things. I talked to her over my shoulder,
trying to be chatty.
"So how come you play with the boys isn't there a
girls' football team locally?"
"It's not the same playing with girls; I can hold my
own with the lads. I have to play on the girls' team at
school though."
I was armed with TCP, cotton wool balls and some
Germolene; I turned back round to start getting Jamie
cleaned up. She took my breath away for the second time
that day. She had slipped her shorts off, and was stood
just a yard ahead of me in nothing but a football
shirt, which barely covered her modesty. I swear there
could only have been a centimetre in it at most! Her
beautiful legs were slim, lightly tanned, as smooth as
you could possibly imagine, and streaked with dried red
mud. She had her feet crossed in an accidentally coy
stance.
"Let's get you cleaned up then, Miss!" I said,
regaining my composure before she noticed. She
responded by turning her back and lifting her shirt
right up; at the front she lifted it to just below her
boobs. I pulled over a stool, sat down and looked at
her back. She was clearly a very fit girl; her back was
toned and as smooth as her legs. Her spine was flanked
by two symmetrical muscles which gave way to the best
bum I've ever seen. This young lady was such a
contrast; on the one hand she had the short messy hair,
played with the boys, and was as far from sugar and
spice as you can imagine. However, despite a slightly
boyish shape and firmness, her slim straight hips gave
way to beautifully rounded buttocks which looked
sculpted, and a waist which was slimmer and more
delicate than I'd imagined.
At this point, I will tell you, and I expect you to
believe this as God's honest fact, I have never had
even a hint of a homosexual or bisexual moment. I've
never snogged a girlfriend for a laugh, never sneaked a
peak at my mates in the shower, never passed a girl in
the street and felt unusually attracted and never had a
secret crush on that female teacher. Never, never,
never! I know a lot of my friends have; I've watched
them 'joke' snog for the titillation of boys at parties
and on holidays. I suspect that one of my friends has
even spent a night of passion with a girl after a night
clubbing; But not me.
So you can imagine how I felt at this moment, staring
at this young girls' perfect backside, and realising
how aroused I was by her. She adjusted her weight as
she stood before me, letting one slim, firm hip fall to
the side, causing the most delightful curve at the
bottom of her spine.
The graze was big, starting halfway up her back on the
right, about 6" wide, and tapering away to its end
right in the middle of her left buttock. The graze was
only interrupted with an inverted T-shape which
remained unhurt, across the top of her cheeks and
vertically up her spine, protected by the shape of her
body. She looked momentarily like a bizarre work of
art, her stance carving her body into an 'S', and this
red flash across her back like graffiti on a Rodin
sculpture.
She had obviously been protected by her football shirt
to the beginning of her ass, because the graze was pink
and clean to that point. Below it, I suspect her
momentum had caused the gritty surface to pull down her
shorts as she slid because the graze was red and sore
below the start of her buttock, speckled with blood
spots, sand coloured grit and was a deeper red.
I started at the top, cleaning with TCP on a cotton
wall ball. She didn't flinch too much to begin with;
just occasionally I would hear a sharp intake of breath
through her teeth. I tried to talk to her throughout,
keep her mind from what I was doing.
"This looks really sore you know, is it worth it?"
"I normally play on grass, don't really like all-
weather surfaces but apparently the pitch is water-
logged!"
As I neared her buttocks, she started to flinch as the
stinging TCP touched raw flesh. Instinctively I placed
my free hand around her front to reduce the flinch and
to balance her weight as I used slightly more pressure
to remove the dirt. My hand rested on her hip bone, my
fingers outstretching to touch just the edge of that
'V' formed by the beginnings of her inner thighs. The
flesh was tight and firm, but coated with skin which
was baby soft. It felt like my hand was on fire, as my
awareness was awoken of how I was touching this
beautiful young girl.
The weight of my hold was with my palm on her hip bone,
my fingers just dancing across her lower abdomen, but
each time she flinched the weight changed and I
instinctively used my fingers to hold her. In addition,
every time her muscles tensed, her ass was pulled
slightly from me, and her buttocks evolved from
beautiful round smooth globes, to sculpted muscle-bound
cheeks with a distinct shadow on each. Believe me when
I say this transformation was no less beautiful or
arousing. My mind became drunk with the sensations
caused by all of this, and if I'd been able to stop
right then I would have done.
I finished cleaning the wound, and removed my hand
while I washed up and opened the cream. I applied the
cream all over the wound, and it obviously gave relief
as the flinching stopped. However, I still needed to
balance her and this time placed my hand on her lower
belly. I'd originally intended this to be slightly less
overtly sexual, but it really didn't have that effect
on me. Her belly was flat as a board, and firm. She had
a stomach which formed a 'V', her belly muscles
converging down towards her pubis. So my hand and
fingers were gently holding this firm, shapely yet
silky smooth belly, whilst my other hand gently
caressed cream into the most beautiful arse in the
world. I'm surprised I have managed to maintain my
sanity.
I finished with the cream and turned away to put the
things away and to allow Jamie to cover her decency
once more.
"Listen, I can give you a lift home if you'd like, save
walking. I go past where you live." I offered.
"That'd be great, if you don't mind!"
"No problem at all. You'll have to give me ten minutes
to get showered, then we'll go."
We walked together back to the changing rooms and I
left Jamie to gingerly get dressed, while I stripped
off and went for that much overdue shower. When she was
dressed, Jamie came to sit outside the showers and
talked to me.
"So, do you work here then?" She asked,
conversationally.
"Yeah, I coach tennis."
"That's cool! I'd love a job like that when I'm older!"
"So are you into keeping fit?" I asked, as if I didn't
know!
"Yeah, I play footie, swim for the county and run
cross-country for school!"
Well that explained the body! We chatted about sports
and how to get into coaching and just general stuff.
When I was finished I walked out of the showers to get
my towel and she was sat on the bench facing me. She
just carried on talking to me, not fazed at all by my
nakedness. I, on the other hand, felt strangely awkward
for the first time in my life. I have no problem with
nudity at all, and have been naked in front of girls
(and not a few boys) countless times; however, here I
was feeling vulnerable and shy.
I dried myself as we talked, and then grabbed my
toiletries and we headed back to the lockers. Jamie
walked in front of me, and again I was aware that I was
drawn to this girl. She was wearing a tight, cropped
retro "Rolling Stones" t-shirt, her belly was on show,
and a pair of funky loose fit jeans, sat low on her
hips. A pair of CK's was visible above her tan belt,
and she'd finished the outfit with a beautiful waist
length tan coloured leather jacket. As she walked away
I noticed how well the loose soft-denim jeans sat on
her firm butt, the material just hanging off her
curves.
She'd put some gel or wax on her hair, and spiked it up
messily. She wore no make-up, but I noticed she had a
few dark freckles just on her little button nose.
Jamie made a fuss of my car when she saw it, and I felt
really proud of myself. She also made a fuss of getting
into it, as her back was clearly hurting a lot. I drove
her home and walked her to the front door to explain to
her Mum what had happened and why I had brought her
home. Her Mum was really grateful. I declined a brew
and said "Goodbye" before heading home.
That evening I had a Chinese as a treat and stayed in
watching a movie. The events of the day went round and
round in my mind, arousing me and causing me concern
too. On the one hand, I had caressed a very beautiful
naked girl all over her back, butt and belly; on the
other, I had experienced my first homosexual feelings,
and done so with a 14 year old subject! I consoled
myself that I had not at any stage behaved
inappropriately, I had let a Duty manager know what I
was doing, and I had also spoken to the girl's parents.
See, nothing to worry about! Before bed, I had a very
long, very hot, very soapy and particularly thorough
shower. Well, can you blame me?
***
With the exception of a few more 'intimate' showers at
home than I would normally have, the next week passed
pretty much without incident (apart from Christmas and
Boxing Day which I spent with my family in Yorkshire).
The events in the First Aid Room almost became a
fantasy in my mind, rather than something which had
happened. And then events conspired to resurrect
feelings which weren't altogether welcome in my
formerly 'normal' life. Two gym staff had been off sick
for a few days, along with one or two others. There was
obviously a bug going around (Christmas partying bug I
suspected). Anyway, as a health and safety/first-aid
trained member of staff, I was asked to cover a few
shifts in the gym.
I was happy to as it was a quiet time of year for me,
so tips and fees were short. My first shift was Monday
'early' shift – the graveyard shift. I started at six,
and during the next couple of hours, only the regulars
were in; the bodybuilders in the free weights section
(by the way guys, do you have any idea how unattractive
that actually is), the fitness obsessive's coming in
before work, and the insomniac recent retirees (bored
senseless already and in early in their all-whites for
a light jog or cycle).
I stood at the wall height window looking down into the
pool. There were two or three national standard
swimmers who used our pool for training at this time in
the morning and I love watching them. Don't get me
wrong, I can swim, and often do a hundred lengths after
work. Watching these guys is different though, they use
so few strokes each length and seem to move
effortlessly, never quite breaking through that gentle
curved wake which covers their heads. Today was no
different, and I watched the guy, who was also quite
attractive as he swam lengths at first, and then with a
bungee holding him stationary in his roped off lane as
he swam against the tension.
I'd been stood at the window for about half an hour,
checking occasionally that there wasn't some muscle-
monkey stuck under a bar, or an oldie having a
thrombosis on the stair climber. I'd turned away on one
such occasion and then turned back to my swimmer.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted another figure at
the shallow end of the pool, near the Sauna and Steam
Room. It was Jamie, and my heart wasn't about to make
an exception today; it skipped a beat and I caught my
breath again. Her swimsuit wasn't sexy or revealing, in
fact it was a fairly standard backless "Speedo" type
affair – and all the more sexy for that. As she hung
her towel on the wall hook, I could see half of the
scar I had tended across her back, and I could see
those now half concealed and seriously beautiful firm
buttocks.
She turned and walked back to the poolside, and I
shocked myself as I stared beneath her legs and watched
in rapture as she walked the few steps, and as the
tight shiny material moved over her sex. She dived
gracefully into the pool and began to swim lengths. I
was captivated.
The next two hours of my shift seemed to pass by rather
dreamlike, as I spent much of that time staring at this
scarred form moving beautifully up and down the pool in
front of me. I could barely see her in detail, but my
memory and imagination worked well to provide me with
images of those buttocks working her beautiful legs;
that belly tensed and busy in the water, the feel of
the cool water washing over her nylon clad body. Let me
tell you, it was all I could do not to run off for a
shower right there and then.
After a couple of hours of swimming and resting, Jamie
got out and took a brief shower in the cold shower by
the poolside. She then made her way into the steam
room. It drove me insane to think of her in the dark,
barely lit by the twinkling lights in the ceiling, but
hidden by the enveloping cloud of steam, getting hot
and sweaty alone. I can make no secret that I really
wanted to be in there with her.
It was just after 9 in the morning, and I found myself
hoping she would stay around until my shift finished at
midday. When she eventually left the pool area at about
quarter to ten, I then hoped she would come to the gym
for a workout. When that didn't happen I hoped she
would be in the bar when I finished. No such luck. I
left at midday, left the shower until I got home and
walked back through the club, secretly scanning for the
object of my desire. She was nowhere to be seen.
Driving home I felt deflated, and realised quickly how
irrational I was being. It was not easy to convince
myself though; she was after all jaw-droppingly
wonderful. At least I thought so. I'm not sure when the
plan hatched, but before I got home I went into town
and bought a cute birthday card. I took it to the post
office and wrote it in the queue to pay for a stamp.
"Jamie, hope you feel better, Have a great 15th
Birthday, Laura" I wrote, adding with urgency before I
changed my mind, "x x x".
I recalled the address easily, checked the post code
with the cashier, and paid for postage, opting to
guarantee delivery the next day, the 29th, as the
Christmas backlog might have prevented it from getting
there on time.
***
I spent much of New Years Day in bed, it was a rare few
days off, and the previous evening had been lively and
late. There had been a few cute lads at the party I
went to, and I think I kissed more than one briefly,
but my heart wasn't in it and I went home alone,
without having exchanged numbers or planned any dates.
It was about 4pm; I was still in my PJ's and preparing
some toast when I heard my mobile phone 'beep'. I went
to check the text message. I didn't recognise the
number, but the message certainly hit home.
"Thx for the card! Really sweet. C U Soon xXx".
Three things struck me immediately: 1. she knew my
number 2. "C U Soon" and 3. xXx. All of a sudden I was
a lovesick teenager again; was she interested in me?
Were the kisses flirtatious? When was she going to see
me soon? I had to stop myself getting carried away, but
needless to say that night I had a long shower.
I agonised all evening and the next morning over
whether I should text back. I didn't want to ask how
she had got my number, as that might come across as
defensive. Eventually, at about lunchtime I decided to
reply.
"My pleasure, hope you feel better! Was b'day good? C U
soon x x x"
In return, the reply was almost instant.
"Bk ok now. B'day gd! Lukd 4 U this am! Soon xXx"
I was aware that I was on a slippery slope, but didn't
seem able to stop it; this beautiful girl was becoming
an obsession. I forced myself, to make lunch and eat it
before I answered – it is a technique I use with guys
when texting, to ensure I don't seem too eager. It was
about an hour before I sent my reply.
"Off work for a couple weeks. Saw you swimming Monday –
do you swim every morning? x x x"
Jamie seemed to have taken a cue from my technique,
because I spent the next 30 minutes checking my phone
before I got the familiar 'beep'.
"Mon Wed & Fri 7-10am norm. Footie @ wknd. Didnt c u
Mon – sorry! xXx"
Wow! I felt like she was flirting now, and didn't know
how to feel. However, I was excited and aroused, and my
first thought was that I had until Monday to wait to
see her again. I left the texts for now and got on with
my weekend, albeit with a little additional emotional
baggage. I don't think I've ever day-dreamed as much in
my life. On Sunday I went to the Trafford Centre with a
friend and was like a zombie all day. She was convinced
I was either sick, pregnant or in love! I wonder.
Monday morning couldn't come soon enough for me, and
when my alarm went off at 6am I had to question my
sanity – this was supposed to be my 'me time', enjoying
a break from work. I dressed quickly, opting for a cute
little denim skirt, a gypsy style off the shoulder
loose linen blouse and my favourite cowboy boots. I'm
not one to "know it", but as I looked in the mirror
this morning with my hair in a pony tail, I looked
cute!
I arrived in the changing rooms at five to seven, and
made sure I took as much time as possible getting
changed, hoping that Jamie would arrive anytime. I had
glanced in the pool from upstairs and it was empty. I
delayed for about fifteen minutes before it suddenly
dawned on me that she could have been changing as I
passed the window. I quickly finished off and locked
away my things, almost jogging into the pool. It was
empty though, and I had that sinking feeling. Maybe she
had decided to do something else this morning. I dived
in and began to swim anyway, pretending to myself that
it was no big deal.
I'd been swimming for about twenty minutes, and two or
three others had come in that time. I turned at the far
end of the pool and saw her walk in. She scanned the
pool quickly and caught my eye, smiling a little and
waving before enthusiastically diving in and swimming
toward me. I held onto the end of the pool until she
swam up.
"Sorry I'm late, missed the bus!" It warmed me up to
say the least that she seemed as keen to see me.
"You're not late honey, I didn't even say I'd be here!"
I tried to remain cool.
"I guess not, I thought you would be though!" She
laughed and swam off, allowing her bum to break the
water as she arched her back before settling into a
proper stroke and putting distance between us. I
followed but couldn't catch up.
We swam like this for half an hour, passing closely by
each other on each length until her superior technique
eventually led to her catching me up.
"Slow coach!" She gasped between strokes. This time she
stopped at the end of the length.
"Cheeky," I replied, "I'm not even trying!"
"Race you then!" Jamie offered. I couldn't resist.
"Ok, on 3 then! 1..." I said before hurling myself
forward, allowing myself just a second or two head
start. I put everything into it, swimming as fast as I
could to the other end, breathing between every fifth
stroke instead of every third. Still I was aware of
Jamie catching me up by halfway, it was going to be
tight. As we neared the end, it was clear I would just
be first, and I suddenly felt arms around my waist.
Jamie had decided my cheating needed punishing and she
wrapped herself around me to stop me winning. It was
the shallow end, and so I could just stand up. Jamie's
legs were wrapped around my waist, and her arms around
my arms, trying to shake me off my feet! We were both
laughing like idiots, and as I touched victory on the
poolside I allowed myself to fall, floating with just
my head above the water. Jamie let go with her arms,
but kept her legs wrapped tightly around me; her young
pussy pushed into my belly.
"You're such a cheat!" she laughed,
"And what's this?" I asked, indicating her octopus-like
grip on me.
"This?" she feigned sincerity, "I'm just being
friendly!"
We both laughed. Eventually she let go and we decided
to take a steam. The steam room was empty, and as I
suggested before, was dark except for the tiny
twinkling lights in the ceiling. With the Midnight Blue
mosaic tiles and heavy steam, you could disappear in
there. We sat next to each other and chatted, Jamie
telling me about her birthday. She had got a new mobile
phone from her parents and seemed made up – she also
had £100 from a Grandmother in New Zealand. I asked
about her back, and she told me that it wasn't sore
anymore, but suggested I could take a look when we'd
finished swimming.
We had another swim and then ten minutes in the sauna
before we decided to go shower. Jamie picked up her
towel from the poolside hooks, and I went back to my
locker for mine. When I returned to the showers, Jamie
was stood by the far right shower cubicle; I went to
the cubicle opposite and pushed the frosted glass door
closed before slipping out of my bikini.
"Do you want to have a look at my back then?"
"Sure. Sorry, I said I would didn't I?"
As I finished, Jamie simply walked in on me, seemingly
unaware of my nudity. She turned and slipped the straps
from her one-piece, sliding the wet material down past
her waist and on to the floor. The cubicle door was
open, I was under the hot spray, and this naked nymph
was in my cubicle back to me.
"It looks tons better," I said, "Just a bit scabby on
your bum." As I spoke I brushed the scabby area with my
hand. "It'll probably come off with a scrub!"
She suddenly skipped across to her cubicle, where the
water was steaming down and came back with shower gel
and a net scrub, "Would you? It itches a bit!"
What could I do, I soaped up the scrub and proceeded to
scrub her back and ass. It was so natural, so innocent
and so bloody erotic I can't tell you! When all the
little scabs were washed off, she was left with a pink
scar across her brown body. I gave her the scrub and
rubbed my soapy hand over her behind to make sure it
had all gone – I don't think I will ever experience a
more sexy sensation than my hand on that firm, smooth,
wet and soapy arse.
Jamie then skipped back across to her shower to wash.
She kept the cubicle door open and showered with her
back to me, allowing me the luxury of watching the
erotic poses her contortions played across her rear
aspect, and at the same time obliging me to keep my
shower door open as we chatted. I wondered if she knew
the effect she was having on me, and how hard it was to
keep my hands from between my legs.
Jamie had the benefit of short hair, and so finished
showering before I did. What happened next was horny as
hell, and just a little embarrassing. Jamie wrapped
herself in her big fluffy white towel, and came to
stand in the door of my cubicle, still chatting. As I
was showering she was looking me in the eye and
watching me as if it was the most natural thing in the
world. I tried to appear unfazed.
"So what have you got planned for this afternoon,
Jamie?" I asked.
"Oh, I think I'll go to the Trafford Centre and spend
some of my Birthday money."
"I went yesterday," I said omitting the fact that I had
thought of her constantly, "...but I didn't manage to
find anything I liked." I finished, omitting to say
that it was her fault I hadn't.
"Come with me. I'll help you find something; it'll be
more fun than going on my own."
"You just want another ride in my car don't you?" I
teased.
Raising her eyebrows, Jamie joked, "Yeah, whatever!"
We agreed to go shopping and she passed me my towel as
I turned off the shower. As she held it out, I was
naked full frontal facing her, I was vulnerable and
very turned on, and brazenly Jamie looked me all the
way down to my toes, and back up to my eyes as I
wrapped the towel around me, saying,
"You've got a really nice body, you know!"
"Thanks sweetheart," I said, and without thinking, "So
have you!"
She smiled and we walked back to our lockers together.
On the drive to the shops we talked about loads of
things, and I have to say, despite the ten year age gap
she was really good fun and great company. We talked
about my apartment, trying to explain to her where it
was, but she couldn't quite place it – despite it being
just two or three miles away. At some point I absent-
mindedly suggested I'd show her sometime.
Shopping was great fun actually – Jamie has a really
good sense of what works well in fashion, and we both
bought a couple of bits. She looked great today too,
that trademark spiky hair, Levi 501's – tight around
the ass, and a tight, short white t-shirt, ripped at
the neck, and that tan leather jacket.
We had lunch in Selfridges and looked around the
fashion section. I found a very sexy satin dress, bat
wing style to be worn off one shoulder, backless and
tight around the bum. It was in a copper colour, and I
thought it would match Jamie's colouring so well – so I
suggested trying it on. She looked at the price and
said, "Yeah! As if!" in that sarcastic way that
teenagers do.
I persuaded her to just try it, and we went to find the
fitting room. The fitting room in this open-plan
department was a large cubicle on the shop floor, so
Jamie grabbed my hand and took me in with her, not
wanting to show off to the whole shop when she had put
the dress on. On the cubicle she turned her back to me
and lifted her t-shirt off, baring that sexy back,
showing me that she was wearing no bra, and making me
realise I had seen this girl naked or nearly naked on
three occasions, but only ever from behind.
She slipped her jeans down to display a pair of CK's,
this time boy-style pants, white and tight across her
lovely round butt. Talk about putting temptation in
one's path...!
Anyway, she tried on the dress and it fit beautifully,
suddenly feminising this tomboy into a very beautiful
and elegant girl. Her legs took on a more feminine
appearance, her bare shoulder looked more delicate, and
those eyes blinked from underneath her messy fringe.
This girl was amazing. I suggested she should wear
feminine underwear with a dress like that, and said I'd
buy it as a late birthday present.
Firstly she argued that she wouldn't let me make such
an extravagant gift, and then went on to say she didn't
really have any sexy underwear – only childish stuff
her Mum bought, or fashionable CK's and a few thongs. I
decided we should look at lingerie.
We ended up choosing a pair of stunning, emerald green
panties in satin. The knickers were a traditional cut
with ribbon tie-sides. A bra was pointless with this
dress. They were gorgeous, and Jamie was over-the-top
grateful. In the end I had to tell her to stop thanking
me.
Loaded with bags we headed back, relaxed in each
other's company. It was about 3pm.
"So, you gonna show me your place then?" Jamie asked on
the way back.
"You want to see?"
"Sure! I bet it's really cool!"
And so, suddenly I was driving back to my apartment,
with a very hot 15 year old girl, the object of my
fantasy! Not something that happens every day, not to
me anyway!
In the lift up to my apartment Jamie was quiet for the
first time since I'd met her – it occurred to me that
she was as nervous as I was about the situation, which
suggested to me that she probably had similar feelings
to me. But, I was also aware I could be desperately
wrong, and was not going to stick my neck out and make
an arse of myself.
I put on the kettle and gave Jamie the guided tour. She
was really impressed by the place; especially that it
was so modern, and minimal. She loved the en-suite
which was my own little bit of luxury, an 8ft by 4ft
shower cubicle with a glass wall, otherwise surrounded
on all sides by grey slate tiles. The shower itself
consisted of three traditional overhead shower-heads,
but with a hidden pressure valve the sensation in there
was marvellous. Little did she know just how much time
I'd spent in there recently.
We had a brew, watched some TV, chatted about stuff;
interestingly we BOTH talked about boys; I was a little
surprised as I'd wondered for a while if Jamie was gay
– you know, the football, short hair, CK's, tomboy etc.
Well, apparently not, not completely anyway. What was
made clear though, was that she was single at the
moment – although pursued by a few of the football
team.
I became aware of time, and not wanting to scare her
off by asking when she should be leaving for home, I
asked if she wanted to stay for some dinner. She
suggested ringing her Mum and I sat quietly while she
did.
"Hi Mum! Yeah, I've been shopping...a few bits yeah!
I'll show you later...listen Mum...Can I stay at
Laura's tonight? Yeah, I've got my key... Don't know,
lunchtime maybe. Ok. Love you. See you tomorrow. Yes I
will!"
I have to say I was gobsmacked.
"You're staying then?" I asked, sarcastic but smiling.
"I've got the option anyway – I normally stay at some
friends or other at weekends!" and then, suddenly
worried, "You don't mind do you?"
"No, not at all!"
We had pasta for dinner and watched crap TV. After we'd
eaten, it was about 7.30 and getting dark outside. I
switched off the main light, put on a little lamp, and
opened the blinds to show off the view at night. Jamie
was enthusiastic and stood in the window telling me how
cool it was. She was on her second Budweiser and I
wondered if I was being irresponsible. Hell, I was
clubbing at 15, so I'm sure I didn't have too much to
feel guilty for.
"Should we try on out stuff?" I suggested.
"Fashion show! Yay!" Jamie responded. It seemed like
I'd had a good idea. I'd bought a pair of jeans and a
couple of t-shirts. I went to the spare room where we'd
dumped our bags and changed into the jeans and one of
the t-shirts, taking off my bra before I did. I went
back to the living room carrying the second t-shirt. I
did a twirl and was rewarded with a wolf-whistle.
"Those jeans look great on..." Jamie hesitated,
"...they hang just right!"
Then I felt brave. I lifted off the t-shirt, baring my
breasts completely for her, and picked up the other
one. Her eyes sparkled as I pulled it on –a little
tighter this one, cut about my belly button height, and
showing off my very stiff nipples.
"Nice, Laura, really nice!" Jamie smiled.
"If you want to try on your dress, you can find some
shoes in the wardrobe in the spare room." I offered.
"Oh cool. Give me two minutes!" She replied, and
skipped off to get changed.
It was more like ten minutes, but when she came back it
was worth it; the light was low but bounced off the
strappy diamante shoes she had chosen from my wardrobe.
Her legs were long and slender, and the dress far
shorter than I had remembered from that cramped fitting
room. The back draped low towards her gorgeous
backside, and I wondered if she was wearing the
underwear I had bought too. She looked good enough to
eat (now that thought set my mind racing!)
"You look absolutely stunning, Jamie!" I said honestly.
She joked in reply, "Better than my muddy football
kit?"
I think I hesitated in thought for a moment too long,
because she seemed to pick up on the fact that it
wasn't clear cut.
"You liked the football kit?"
"Jamie, I think you'd look fabulous whatever you wore,
and yeah, I think you looked pretty hot in the united
kit!"
She seemed to take a moment to take in what I was
saying, digesting the compliment, computing the
possibility that my comments were innocent. Then she
smiled a devilish, impish little smile.
"I bet you'd like the knickers then!"
"You've got them on?" I asked, perhaps slightly too
eagerly.
Jamie went for the coy stance again, ankles crossed,
hands held together in front of her, head cocked
innocently to one side, and then she shrugged, inviting
me to find out for myself.
My heart felt like it was fighting to get out of my
chest.
"I'll have to find out for myself then, huh?"
She shrugged again, smiling cheekily this time, and
walked to the window again, staring out at the night. I
approached her from behind and stood very close to her.
My hand laid gently against her bare back half way up,
light as a feather. I could hear her breathing getting
short, or was that mine. My fingertips traced patterns
up and down her spine, making her arch her back and
push that cute backside towards me. My fingers slipped
under the material and her side, rubbing up and down
her ribcage, working my way to the front. I let my
other hand do the same on the other side, until both
hands had almost met on her belly, her butt was pushed
against me, and I could smell her in the air, the sweet
smell of her shampoo and shower gel. I moved my mouth
closer to her ear and whispered.
"So, are you going to tell me, or should I find out for
myself?"
The tension was electric, my senses were on overload.
Jamie shrugged again, without any hesitation and
without turning back towards me. My fingertips became
alive again, brushing her skin, moving up and down her
belly, an inch closer to her panties each time I moved
down, an inch closer to her young breasts each time I
swept up. Eventually I touched the upper band of her
knickers, unmistakeable satin, and certainly not CK's.
I purred in her ear, unable to contain my excitement at
the prospect of this young girl in those panties.
The pants themselves were pure satin, no elastic
waistband, no Lycra-like body hugging, just a satin
drawstring tied in a bow at both hips, and sift
luscious material moving gently over the wearers flesh.
I let my hands move over the material, barely touching
it, not enough pressure to press through to her flesh,
but just enough that she would feel the material move
around her. Her head swayed back towards my neck, and I
allowed my lips to brush the inside of her neck and we
remained locked like courting swans for an eternity. My
hands continued to explore inside the loose silky
sheath of the dress, moving up now to cup those young
pert breasts. Perfect hemi-spheres, pubescent and firm
beyond even my own memory, and topped, perfectly
centrally with tiny hard nipples. As my hands brushed
across those magic buttons.
I heard Jamie suck air in through her teeth, and her
back arched even more in erotic paralysis, her hands
raising to first grab her hair, then to seek out my
own, grabbing handfuls for stability. Again I let my
hands wander, down to that satin, firmer this time,
gently cupping her pudenda and allowing myself to
blindly explore the shape of her sex. Her hands pulled
tight on my hair, and she pushed hard against me,
completely submissive to my exploration.
I was surprised to feel no evidence of hair, and found
myself excitedly exploring the possibility that she
might be completely shaved like I was. As I rubbed her
gently, alternately with each hand still stretched
around her waist, I allowed myself to trace a finger
between her plump mons. As my finger slid down the
material underneath her, I felt her heady, sticky
wetness.
I wanted Jamie in my bed, but I also wanted to take my
time as I suspected this was her first time in any
heavy sexual encounter. I slowly pulled my hands from
her dress and turned her by the shoulders to face me,
her eyes wide as plates she looked at me. I kissed her
lips once, then again and then gently opened my mouth,
closed my eyes and allowed myself to melt into her
mouth, those beautiful pink moist lips, following my
lead and melding as one.
I led Jamie to my bedroom by the hand in silence, and
flicked on the stereo. Debussy's "Prelude" played
gently. I left her alone in the semi-darkness and
entered the en-suite to turn on the shower. When I
returned, I noticed just how beautiful this girl was
again, innocently and erotically facing me with the
divine dress hanging off her shoulder, those huge eyes
watching me, devouring me.
I stood in front of her and slowly undressed, allowing
her to watch me unfettered and unashamed in the
darkness. Then I knelt at her feet and helped her out
of the shoes, before slowly pulling the dress from her
shoulders, helping it over her hips and letting her
step gracefully from it. I was naked, and Jamie just
wore that little triangle of satin. I leant forward and
inhaled her womanly smell, caressing her sex with my
cheek and nose. I kissed the satin, feeling her shape
with my lips, lowering myself to her wetness, tasting
her through the material, licking that unchartered path
with my hungry eager tongue. I finally untied the bows
and watched the green fabric fall to the floor, looking
for the first time upon those breasts and that virgin
vulva.
I stood and took Jamie into the almost complete
darkness of the steaming shower, only the faint orange
glow from the streetlights outside occasionally
catching an edge of her silhouette. Otherwise we were
just together in the hot pounding water and steam. Now
she proved her desire, pushing me against the cold
slate, snaking her tongue into my mouth and touching me
urgently; first her hands kneading my buttocks as she
kissed me, then on my breasts and finally, desperately
cupping my sex, separating my aching labia and seeking
out my prize.
We spent an eternity in the steam, touching, kissing,
caressing, playing, and washing. Eventually, I switched
off the flow and took Jamie to the bedroom to dry her.
Like an Egyptian maiden, I tended her, drying her hair,
face, shoulders and down to her feet. I was gentle,
following the towel with my lips, kissing and licking
as the urge took me. When she was dry, I lay her on the
bed and dried myself. I climbed onto the bed and lay
next to her, staring into her eyes. I kissed her lips,
and then lightly on the end of her pretty nose. She
smiled at me, intimate and loving.
I touched her, felt her breasts in my hand, followed
her curves to her belly, tickled her thighs, and teased
her all over. I kissed her; loved kissing the flesh of
her teenage breasts, listened to the sigh as I flicked
her nipple with my tongue, then sucked it in my mouth
repeating the same with both. I spent time kissing her
belly, turning around and kissing her feet, we giggled
together as I sucked her toes individually, she barely
able to control the ticklishness.
I kissed up her legs, and climbed between her thighs,
kissing that inner flash, that firm youthful muscle. I
teased her with my hair, letting it fall around her
young sex, tickling, silky. Eventually I could control
my urge no more, and I opened my mouth for her pussy. I
covered her with my mouth, allowing my tongue to find
her slit and dance along its path, causing her to buck
and gasp. Her pussy was not shaved, it was pure bald. I
kissed her, like on her mouth, opening and closing
around her, darting my tongue in an out, allowing
myself to trace circles around her virginal young clit.
Before long her gasps and pants became more frequent,
her breathing heavy and deep, her hands encouraging my
head, and I stopped teasing and concentrated on her
clit and licking and sucking as gently and rhythmically
as possible. Soon she came, screaming out at last my
name, clawing the bed, and I sucked her juices into my
mouth as if it were the last water on the planet. I
tasted and drank her all, and enjoyed her first orgasm
like my own.
I kissed up her body, relishing the control of her
afterglow, until I was lay atop her. She grabbed me and
kissed me passionately, slowly and meaningfully so that
I thought she would never stop. She tasted herself on
me, licking me clean, and rolling me onto my back. She
wordlessly climbed between my legs and began to lick my
pussy. I don't think either of us had anticipated this
moment, but knowledge of the physiognomy of another,
and lust or love for that other must be enough, for the
sensation she caused between my thighs is better than
anything I ever experienced. I watched as she sucked
and kissed and licked me, taking me in her mouth and
moaning with the pleasure at what she was doing. I
lasted no time at all and came loudly twice before she
would stop.
For hours we explored each other, kissing, licking,
caressing, fingering, and sucking. It was the most
incredible experience of my life, and we fell asleep in
each other's arms.
In the morning I woke to the smell of coffee and the
sound of the shower. I opened my eyes and Jamie was sat
next to me wrapped in a sheet, smiling.
"Shower?" she asked.
How could I resist? She let the sheet fall, and in the
misty morning light I saw her naked for the first time
as she climbed off the bed, stretching her arms to the
ceiling, her fingers interlaced. Those magnificent pert
boobs, that v-shaped flat belly pointing to a pure
virginal fleshy pussy, as smooth as silk. She was
heaven sent for sure.
I followed her to the shower and we sensitively washed
each other all over. I told her how often I'd thought
of her in here and she asked me to show her, so I
soaped myself all over, backed against the slate wall,
and slowly brought myself to orgasm, watched by a very
serious young girl under the jet of water. When I'd
finished I opened my eyes and Jamie was biting her lip,
obviously incredibly aroused by watching.
I pulled her to me, turned her back to me and reached
round to her young pussy, performing the very same
service for her, and in the process fulfilling that
fantasy which had lived in the shower with me for
weeks. As she came, her legs almost gave way and she
fell back into me, turning as she did and holding me
tighter than I've ever been held before.
The days and weeks since have not been easy, but we're
learning to cope a little better with enforced periods
apart. The weekends and occasionally evenings together
midweek make it all more bearable. For my part, I
console myself about the criminal part of my actions
with the thought that she is less than a year away from
the legal age of consent. I was always straight –
without question – but have now found somebody who is
not just a lover and a friend, but is truly my soul
mate.
For her part, Jamie claims to feel the same. I'm not
sure if it's a youthful crush, and try my best to give
her every 'out' she could possibly need, and force no
commitment from her. On the other hand, I also let her
know that she is in the strongest possible
relationship, able to rely on me as long as she wants
to.
We have let her Mum see me as a friend more, which has
now passed initial eyebrow raising, and is actively
encouraged, and at the same time Jamie does nothing to
dispel her Mum's concerns about the 'Tomboy' thing! In
fact, Jamie noticed recently that her Mum had been on
an internet site giving advice to parents who suspected
their offspring might be gay. We have a huge way to go,
but wish us luck. We are very much in love!
Please continue to give feedback, it is so deeply
appreciated!
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 56