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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