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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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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Losing It On Holiday
by Paddy Toute (paddy22@aol.com)
***
A teenage boy on holiday with his parents has an
unexpected encounter with a hotel made while jacking off
in his room. (F/m-teen, 1st)
***
Author Note: Although parts of this are true, the most
part is fantasy (worse luck). DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU:
Are under the legal age for reading tasteful pornography
where you are living. Are a prude. Are a prune, or other
fruit or vegetable. Are likely to be offended by naughty
stories. Are incapable of reading. Thank you. Enjoy.
Paddy.
***
My heart was thumping as I left the hotel. I walked up
the road, turned left into the high street, headed for
the newsagent's at the far end of town.
I was seventeen, and on holiday with my parents. How un-
cool can you get?
It was as though my entire life had been leading up to
this point. I was alone, and I was going to buy my first
porno mag. I had feigned illness that morning to avoid
going on the bus tour, and my parents had left the hotel
for the day.
You see, I had had a very strict upbringing. Mother had
made it plain that pornography was bad, and that sex was
something married people did to each other in private,
but what it actually entailed, you didn't find out until
you were married yourself. Consequently I had developed
into a very shy seventeen year old who had had next to
no physical contact with the opposite sex.
In fact, the nearest I had come to actual physical
contact with a girl was having my backside felt during a
"which sixth-former has the squeeziest ass" competition
between the girls.
My misery was compounded by the fact that I was
overweight. Mother said it was puppy fat, but my
contemporaries teased and jibed mercilessly.
My sex life (such as it was) was limited to my
imagination and my black-and-white portable television
in my bedroom. I would spend night after night surfing
the various channels in the pursuit of female nudity.
Each glimpse of breast or uncovered buttock was
carefully stored away in my memory, and a fleeting
glimpse of pubic hair was enough to send me into
rapture.
I had never seen any live female flesh save for my
mother (and I wasn't that kind of seventeen year old),
and an actual porno film was like Halley's comet - you
know it's out there, but you don't expect you'll ever
see it. I'd recently come across a few tattered
remnants of an old porno magazine on the school playing
field, and, having secreted them away in the lining of
my coat, took them home and pored over them for many
nights.
I would never have dreamt of buying one for myself at
home ( - my mother might find out, and the risk just
simply wasn't worth it, believe me), and I had resolved
that on holiday I would, by some means or other, get my
hands on a porno magazine of my own.
So there I was in the newsagents, doing the four-eyed-
cross-eyed shuffle - trying to see the porno magazines
out of the corner of one eye whilst pretending to look
at the car magazines with another, and keeping one eye
on the door and one on the counter. Judging the moment
to perfection, I made a desperate grab and made for the
counter with my purchase.
My heart was definitely making an escape attempt. It was
hammering so hard against my chest, that I was convinced
it would break free with the next beat. It didn't, and
the man behind the counter hardly took his eyes off the
picture on the portable TV he was watching as he took my
money. I hurriedly concealed the magazine in my coat,
and hurried back to the hotel, convinced my mother must
surely somehow on my tail.
Once back in the hotel, I started to relax somewhat, no
longer convinced I was about to be arrested or grounded
for eternity, though my excitement was building. I was
shortly to experience pornography first hand (if you'll
pardon the pun), and I practically floated up the narrow
stairs to my small room at the rear of the hotel.
Once inside my room, I divested myself of my coat and
collapsed onto my small bed. My heart was now back up to
jackhammer pace as I picked up the magazine and started
to drink in the contents. So many breasts! I never
imagined there could be such diversity. Large ones;
small ones; ones with small nipples; ones with large
nipples; upturned ones; saggy ones. And all these
beautiful women were naked for me! And real life, actual
cunts! Some had shaved their pubic hair off completely,
and their labia were visible. I'd only just begun, but I
was in heaven.
At this point, I undid my trousers and slid them down to
my knees to give some relief to my stiff, aching prick,
which was harder than I had ever felt it, and poking
through the fly of my shorts with yearning, demanding to
be caressed, to be teased, and to be jolly well wanked.
I curled my clammy fist around my straining pipe, and
began to joyously masturbate. I was lost in my own
little world, and that's perhaps why I didn't hear the
discreet knock on the door that preceded its opening.
Horror-struck, and convinced my mother was about to
discover me in flagrante masturbatio, I frantically
tried to make myself invisible, cover my embarrassment
and die, all at the same time. None worked, and I was
mentally preparing to meet my doom when I realised that
the head poking round the door did not belong to my
mother, but to the hotel manageress. There was a split
second of silence as we looked into one another's eyes
before we spoke.
"Oh! I... umm... err..." I began.
"Oh, excuse me!" she said. "I was coming to clean the
room. I didn't realise you were..." She tailed off,
realising what I'd been doing. She looked from my face
down to my cock, to my jazz magazine and back to my
face. "you were.... busy."
It's funny, but I had often imagined a similar scenario
when wanking - that of being discovered whilst in the
act of masturbation, and I had always found it a big
turn on. The reality appeared to be somewhat different.
My cock appeared to be succeeding where I had failed -
making itself invisible. My fright and embarrassment had
contrived to cool my ardour, you might say.
I was wishing she would go away so I could just kill
myself, when she stepped into the room, shut the door
behind her and spoke again.
"You know, it's such a shame to waste yourself like
this. I could show you a much better way to pass the
time." And without further ado, she turned to face me
and with infinite slowness began to unbutton the front
of her blouse. I watched transfixed as her black lacy
bra was revealed to me with its globes of delight.
I have to say I hadn't taken much notice of her during
my stay at the hotel up to that point. I had been aware
of her, but she would have been, I suppose, about
thirty, which to me at that time was quite old. However,
I was rapidly beginning to change my perception of her,
and to look at her in a new light.
Her hair, which hung down to just below shoulder height
was black. I mean jet black. Her skin, more of which was
being revealed to my incredulous gaze each moment was
pale, almost white. Her breasts, still in their lace
confinement were full, and swayed very gently as she
moved.
Her waist was slender without being thin, and her hips,
clad in blue denim were delightfully flared. She removed
her blouse from the waistband of her jeans and began to
unbutton the jeans, revealing to me a pair of matching
briefs. She pushed the denim down her thighs, and stood
before me, a vision in black lace.
"Well, are you going to stay down there, or shall we
make you a little more comfortable?" she said. I sprang
from the bed, proceeded by my re-tumescent organ, which
now felt long enough to pole vault with, and hard enough
to cut diamonds. I stood before her, still unsure how to
proceed. Sensing my naivety, she began divesting me of
my clothes.
I stepped out of my jeans and shorts, and my shirt
joined them on the floor. Taking my trembling left hand,
she placed it on her right breast, and oh joy! . For the
first time, I was feeling female flesh! I watched as if
from outside my body as my right hand met and moulded to
the shape of her left breast through the lacy bra. I
slowly massaged her bosoms, enjoying their firmness, yet
somehow feeling unreal, worrying that I might wake up at
any moment.
She turned around without speaking, and presented me
with the fastener to her bra. After a momentary fumble,
I released it, and eased her bra straps down off her
shoulders. The garment slid to the floor. She turned
back to me, her breasts swaying gently from side to side
with the motion. I stood staring at them, transfixed. In
fact I would probably have remained like that for ever,
had she not taken my trembling hands and placed them on
her hips at the waistband of her panties.
Coming back to the present, I took her gentle hint and
slowly rolled the panties off her hips until they joined
the rest of our clothes on the carpet.
She stood before me naked. Naked for me! This couldn't
be true. Surely I'd wake up at any moment.
My eyes were now drawn to the thicket of her jet black
pubic hair. Incredulously I moved my hand towards it,
convinced that she must be a mirage, that my hand would
go right through her, but it didn't. She must have
wanted things to speed up a little, as she encircled my
wrist with her arm and placed my hand right between her
legs, so that I could feel the warmth there. I could
also smell what I now know was the fruits of her
arousal.
Meanwhile, she took hold of my throbbing erection,
rubbing my foreskin back and forth over its cherry tip.
Her palm opened and then shut over the full girth, and
she began to slowly pump me. She hadn't given above a
dozen strokes when my orgasm was upon me, as if from
nowhere.
I had precious little warning, and as I started to say
"hey! hang on!" my first globule of semen splashed onto
her belly, followed by several more, making a pattern on
her midriff and thighs. A cum-collage, you might say. I
bucked at the knees as she milked the last few drops
from my penis.
I expected her to be angry, or at the very least
disappointed that I'd cum so quickly, and I didn't dare
look her in the eye, for fear of seeing her disproval
painted there. But she simply said "Never mind hon.
It'll make it better next time."
And with that knelt before me, and with both hands
cupped my genitals. One hand gently kneaded and massaged
my balls, while the other took hold of my penis and
delivered it into her mouth. Reason tottered on its
throne, then fell off. My first hand job, immediately
followed by my first blow job!
My penis fitted completely in her mouth at first, though
under her tender ministrations it swiftly began to swell
and enlarge once more, at which point she stopped what
she was doing, lay down on the bed, looked me in the eye
and said "now, fuck me please".
My earlier hesitancy was more or less a distant memory
as I joined her on the cramped single bed. I began to
suck greedily on her pink nipples, which responded by
tightening and lengthening within my mouth. She once
more was slowly wanking me, but with my recent
ejaculation, the danger of a repeat performance of prem-
ejac was not so great.
Presently she nudged me into a position so that I lay on
top of her, my penis jammed between our bellies. After
a few fumbling attempts on my part to reach her cunt,
she helped me out, taking my glans in her fingers and
placing me at the head of her tunnel.
She was very well-lubricated, and I more or less slipped
inside her. My rapture was almost complete. Here I was
actually fucking someone other than my teddy bear!
Instinct more or less took over, I suppose, because
within seconds I was pumping in and out of her like a
veteran (or so I supposed). Soon I recognised the signs
that I was about to cum again, and told her so. "Go on,
enjoy it" she said, so I did. I increased my pace to
warp factor 9 and within seconds was at my peak again,
jamming my spurting penis deep into her vagina.
Utterly spent, I now slumped against her, and tried to
utter my thanks. All that came out was a stream of
garbage about my mother and god knows what else. I think
she sensed my jumbled up feelings, because she simply
said "that was lovely. Thank you. We won't say a word of
this to anyone, and it won't happen again." With this,
she swiftly put on her bra, blouse and jeans and was
gone.
I hardly saw her again, and three days later it was time
to leave, the end of our holiday. Nothing was said
between us, nor did it really need to be. I do feel a
little guilty that I never officially thanked her for
what she did for me. She'll never know how much she
actually did for me on that rainy afternoon in an
English hotel room.
She left her knickers behind - did I tell you that? I
don't know whether that was intentional on her part, but
I chose to believe that. I still have them today, 10
years on. Even now just looking at them turns me on a
little, and all I have to do is close my eyes, and I can
see her beautiful, mature body. Naked. For me.
May 29th 1997
Email responses to: Paddy22@aol.com
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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 67