Dave sat with his back against a locker, reading his paperback. A heavy reader and a fantasy fan, he always carried one, both for pleasure and for waits like this one. The fiction fought for his attention over his own thoughts of Aliasa. She had cheerleading practice every Tuesday after school and it was her he was waiting for. And this Tuesday might be special.
And here she comes: lithesome, streamlined legs disappearing under a flimsy skirt halfway up her hips, a well-fitting t-shirt, wet hair free (from a recent shower), shoulder-length, curling at its ends- a sight that made him squirm. Needless to say, the paperback was forgotten in the advance of a very real, very beautiful young woman.
She walked with a characteristic bounce in her step that would add a resulting bounce on her chest, at which Dave’s adolescent eyes could not resist, and hair-locks swinging. Not that they (her breast, that is) were overtly large, simply publicly prominent; and were partly responsible for making his private coverts prominently large (you must forgive the author for this play on words, I simply couldn’t resist *wink*).
“How was practice?” He asks as she approaches him. She had an affect on him, uncomfortable but wonderful, almost intoxicating– and he didn’t trust it. It was too much like how he felt with his first girl and frankly fucking freaky, after so many cunts. She stopped at her locker, adjacent to one he was lying against, and settled on the balls of feet.
“Enjoying the book?” She asked. She shared Dave’s love of fantasy novels.
“Brooks is good, Lackey is better.” But that was as far their interest overlapped. Even within the genre they disagreed on most topics, albeit in degrees. It provided unending conversation material that would keep them up for hours, arguing. Right now though, his attention was once again distracted at the view she proffered, standing in front of him. It took all his willpower to maintain eye contact and not sneak a peek under her skirt. Were they pink? White? Plaid?
It was after school, leaving the halls deserted. A perfect time for some healthy intimacy with the present girl in my life. They hadn’t gone all the way as yet, but then they’d been going out for only a few weeks now. He put his book aside and getting down on one knee, placed a hand on her ankle, his fingers feeling smooth skin interrupted by sandal straps. He then brought his hands to smoothly caress her calves. After passing a roguish grin, he lightly nestled his face on her crotch, shifting her face from left to right. But he didn’t stay there for long. He brought his face onto her knees and licked them mischievously. This being the appropriate time, he placed a hand on her left thigh. His hand rose up under her skirt and fingers skirted the hem of panties (white, he discovered sneaking peek upwards) at her ass.
Not long after this teasing she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up. Pushed him against the locker and brought her body and lips against his. With his back to the wall and this brunette beauty in his arms, they were voraciously necking. Her arms on his neck, he held her supple waist as she held out her swan neck back for his attentions. She had a slim adolescent body, with small breast still not in bloom, but quite a handful, as far as Dave could tell.
By now he had quite an erection in his pants and decided, with her response in mind, that it was time. Now only to get her attention! He brought his hands down and under her skirt to hold her buttocks through the thin material of her panties. With a squeeze on each of her buns he pulled her tightly to him. If she had any doubt, they were dispelled at the moment, feeling his hardness across the fabric of his trousers. She broke away from their kiss and looked at him. Her countenance shadowed indecision, but his eyes pleaded. Then she chewed her lip and nodded once.
That was all Dave needed. But where would ensure them their privacy? Not the classrooms– the custodian might make his rounds. The boys’ room, just across the hall! Not the most romantic place, but intriguing. He grabbed her hand and quickly led her there. A sound escaped her, as he pushed the heavy door with the stenciled man, but she shut her mouth to any protest.
Fortunately, the toilets were clean to clinical standards, and smelled of detergents, slightly citric. A decidedly pleasant smell. Thought Aliasa, but it might begin to get irritating after awhile. The toilet was a temple of this time: glass and metal, ceramic and tile, plastic and synthetic chemicals of smells and soaps. Conceivably, it was even romantic, if you forget its purpose. Or even if you do: a temple to bodily function.
Exactly like the girls’, thought Aliasa, huge mirrors reflecting their images. Save for the urinals. They felt odd to her, built for the male anatomy, like her? Who was that artist who assembled a urinal, or was it a commode, in a museum, labeling it art? I guess it was art, Aliasa supposed, a pale imitation of life. She too was a receptacle, but their act would be more human than just a natural, more divine. Even to this temple. Especially to this temple.
Dave pulled her close to him, then paused to consider the stalls. Then picking one, apparently at random, holding her waist, pushed her into one, following behind. Once inside, he closed the door with his foot. Aliasa placed her hands over his which was her waist. Whereupon, slipping a thumb in the top her skirt pulls it down along with her panties, watching it expose those round curves, before it falls to the floor. Then he got around her, to watch her remove her top. He placed her hands on the edge of her t-shirt and motioned for her remove it. She proceeded with a smile; slowly raising the shirt to expose her belly and navel, and then bra, at which point she pulled the shirt to cover her face. All the while his hands were travelling on her stomach. Dave stared at those lace covered bosom, proffered with those arms raised entangled in her shirt. When the shirt came off, he held her hand up and kissed at an armpit, and then at the shoulder, then nearer to her breast.
She brought her hands down and under his untucked shirt and undid his belt. Dave’s hand went to her back and to thin strip of cloth that held those screens to her breast. Aliasa slowly stroked his bulge and then went for the button, slipping the zipper down. Dave struggled with the clasp. When he finally got it open she had pulled down his own trouser to his hips. She tugged down his briefs releasing his penis as her own bra fell off her landing on his erect tool, balanced between the two cups. She giggled at the sight. Dave chuckled, but his eyes were fixed on her breast, handful with nipples that poked upwards. He was enrapt. He was about reach for them when Aliasa went to help him remove his trousers. Bending to remove his shoes, she studied him. Decent sized, but well-hung, and the width!
It was his moment at last: Aliasa stood nude before him, her perfect petit body aglow with youthful pride. And himself finally divested of his trousers and jocks. His erect member extended insolently under the edge of the shirt. Aliasa found the sight extremely exciting: his penis jutting out of the curtained folds of his shirt after his last button like those old bulky camera with lens jutting out under the covering over the frames.
But now what? In such close-quarters (the stall was barely 6 feet across) the most obvious course was a sitting position, with her on top! That would give her complete control. No way to accomplish their inaugural fuck. He needed to show what he could do. His ego aside, he would prefer they started off on more equal footing. He also preferred it sometime really soon!
He moved near her and began his oral assault on her shoulders up, endeavouring to chaotically cover that entirely, his tongue slipping in and out of his mouth as he licked and nibbed. His hands started of her waist, but one wondered towards her back and the other over one pert breast squeezing and pinching. The hand on her back slipped down to hold one buttock and pulled her closer, until his dickhead nuzzled her belly. Aliasa right hand strayed below and found his balls: oval rocks suspended in a soft tender sac of skin with fuzzy hair that ticked her palms.
“I’m ready,” Aliasa informed him.
“Not on the seat,” he entreated.
“Standing?” she inquired. “I have something in mind.”
She gripped his penis behind his dickhead, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out one of his condoms. His organ became livelier, quivering in anticipation. She had to restrain a shudder down her legs. Catching the edge of the casing of the condom in her mouth, ripped it open with her teeth. Study his response: another to note. She thought, An oral fixation, as well, judging from his spunky’s spring.
Caressing his penis with light fingers, she brought down the condom to sheathe him, slowly pulling back the latex to envelop him, protect her. Here goes. She gripped his penis for balance and brought the sole of her right foot onto her knee. Then slowly extended her leg out, a classic ballet stance. Put it to some good use, all that training.
She was already building a detailed and exclusive mental portfolio of him. Turned on with experimental positions, she added, taking note of another distinguished throb in his manhood… Either that or he really needed it. But his tortured whimper suggested the earlier. He laid his hand on underside of her extended thigh; so lightly, as though she’d might break like glass or dissipate like a cloud. Only when he a reassured she was flesh did he begin his slow rough strokes, betraying his passion he kept so well leashed so long. Or rather being truthful to it.
His strokes were augmented with strong grasps. He completely avoided her pubis. She found this odd. I hope he doesn’t have any inhibition with that area, she thought concerned. I so much like the feeling of being touched there. Not that it mattered now: she was wet and ready for him without needing a helping hand, so to speak. She murmured his name over and over, bewitchingly encouraging with words. Then she felt him near the periphery of the strip of her groomed pubic hair, almost cautiously. He proceeded to her slit, drawing his fingers up, then parting her lips to allow more access to her clitoris, touched them delicately, bringing a sigh from Alisa lips.