Summer Ch. 14 Gwen's Story 2

The fingers that had been working their way down in the crack of her bottom finally centred on the rosebud opening of her arse, his finger sliding sweetly in the sweat that was running down her back, caressing and exploring the small, tight opening. Fear mingled freely with need. He was moving so fast, his hands commanding her body, making her ache, making her want to beg, desperate to be touched, to go further, faster. Her head was spinning and all she knew was that she loved it. Sweat mingled with her juices as her body responded to his touch.

Letting her loose for a moment he gathered her knickers into his hands front and back and pushed them down onto her thighs. There was no resistance from her, in fact she wanted to cheer at the way he was clearing the obstacle of her clothes from her body, giving his hands the freedom they needed to carry on. His hands slid back up her thighs, back to their intimate caress, slipping through her wetness, burrowing between her lips, knowing where to search, knowing when to touch. She cried out with pleasure. She so excited that she came again, a short brief wave of pleasure flashing upwards from her groin and then he was moving her forward again, riding the crest of his fingers, suspending her between the fingers in her sex and the hand cupping her bottom, spreading her cheeks, the tip of one finger pressing slowly past the small puckered opening, exploring her arse.

She cried out and he spun her around again until she was facing towards the desk and she staggered a little, hobbled by the knickers around her thighs. She reached for them but he suddenly pushed her face down onto the work desk, her breasts flattening against the hard surface. Grabbing her hands he stretched her arms out to either side, palms down, holding her there until she understood that that was what he wanted and she stayed there as he stood behind her. He paused for a moment a fractional respite in the whirlwind seduction. Then she felt his hands on her bottom, exploring beneath her skirt, probing between her cheeks, moving lower to grazing her sex and she shuddered at his touch, her eyes closed, her sex open.

With both hands he slowly raised the back of her skirt and carefully laid it over her back, uncovering her to his gaze She could hear his breathing as he studied her. He had obviously placed her for this view that he was now treating himself to, her arse and her sex thrust backwards towards him, entirely exposed. The position made her feel incredibly lewd, coarse and yet at the same time wildly excited. She realised with a sudden shock that she wanted him to see her, she wanted him to see her there, she wanted him to see her and to want her, to desire her as she desired him, she wanted him to use her. He placed his hands on the soft rounded cheeks of her exposed arse and she trembled at his touch. He forced her open with his thumbs like a peach and she bit her lip in excitement. He was exposing her so intimately she wanted to shout for sheer joy and excitement. She realised with a slight tremble of fear and apprehension that this was no fumbling schoolboy seduction, this was a man who knew what a woman looked and felt like and he was treating her as such.

A finger casually traced the cleft between her cheeks until it rested on the little puckered rosebud at the entrance to her anus. Again she was shocked at the power of the sensation, the raw sexuality of his touch. She bit her lip and trembled as he traced his fingertip around the sensitive opening, Adam and Eve, forbidden pleasure. His finger probed at the entrance a little and she whimpered, she heard him laugh quietly before pushing the tip of his finger past the restraining ring of muscle. She cried out softly at the intrusion and he laughed again, pushing his finger in a little further before withdrawing it. She sagged against the desk for a moment before his hand moved lower and finally cupped her gaping sex.

He squeezed gently and she felt almost faint at the pressure. Her sex boiled at his touch. He massaged the full length of her slowly with the heel of his palm, gently pressing and releasing, causing her moan softly against the hard wooden surface of the desk. She pushed her head down onto the desk and pushed her sex back against him.

He laughed quietly as he worked her, feeling her squirm beneath his hand. He rotated his wrist, moving her sex under the palm of his hand and she groaned, her legs barely keeping her upright, her hands gripping the edge of the worktop white knuckled.

"You like that don't you?" he said, a disembodied voice from somewhere behind her. She tried to focus on his words but all she could feel was his hand between her legs, she wanted to scream out her pleasure.

"Yes," she managed finally and he laughed. He moved his hand and his fingers softly gripped the outside of her sex, pressing her lips together, softly squeezing, massaging, rubbing slowly the whole length of her and again she moaned, a deep guttural sound bubbling up around his fingers.

His fingers probed her lips, inspecting them, working back along their length, opening her up, parting them, exposing their coral wetness to his gaze. She felt his fingers move between them, working slowly from top to bottom, causing her to whimper as they moved confidently and proprietarily over her. He was inspecting her, claiming her, preparing her and she realised that she was submitting willingly to his will.

He slipped two fingers inside her making her gasp. She was so wet he entered her easily and between the sudden explosions of sensations between her legs she wondered vaguely where all the liquid was coming from, somehow astounded with the idea that it was coming from her. His fingers pushed forward, probing deeply, exploring every centimetre of her exposed and unpractised sex. He moved his fingers with the strength of his whole hand and she cried out again and gripped the edge of the workbench to steady herself against him.

His fingers moved into her with a softly sophisticated savagery, sliding between her waiting pink lips, opening her up, pushing into her exposed sex and she thought she would faint. Her sex was on fire, her nipples ached. She thrust herself back against the fingers that were insistently and remorselessly burrowing deeper inside her. She tried to open her legs further but her knickers held her thighs, restricting her movements.

She rested her head against the hard surface of the worktop as his fingers continued their onslaught into her unprotected sex, working deeper inside her, stretching her and she knew that resistance was futile, that he knew what he was doing, that he was riding her up towards yet another climax. A much stronger climax this time, beginning with the fingers in her sex but quickly setting fire to her whole body; nerve ending by raw nerve ending.

He was twisting his hand around, working his fingers into every untouched corner of her sex, wonderfully hard and brutal; he was taking no prisoners, giving no quarter. Her juices ran down the inside of her legs in response to his possession, his domination of her body. She was soaked in sweat and her legs were trembling as she felt herself begin to cum, rising to fingers, willingly acceding to his mastery of her sex. She cried out as she thrust back against him, trying to force his fingers still deeper, trying to force her climax out; and then she was riding him, his fingers forcing the pace as he took her, leaning his weight against her to pin her as her muscles gripped his fingers and she flooded out over his hand.

She screamed and bucked back against him, pushing savagely back against his hand, draining every ounce of pleasure from his fingers. She sagged against the desk, winded and dazed, her climax still hard and fierce and continuing and he her held her, his fingers still moving inside her, helping keep her upright, driving her on, up and through her climax. She shook and cried out as he held her down, one hand between her legs and the other between her shoulders, keeping her flat against the desk, face down. She bucked and cried out as he held her there, keeping her in place so that his other hand could do its work draining her juices and her climax from her. He worked her until she fell silent, spent, his slowly moving fingers sounding loud and wetly in the sudden silence.

He released her and her legs almost gave way and she slid down the front of the desk and he had to catch her. He lifted her back onto the desk, still face down and she managed to stay there. She half felt him reach down and strip her knickers down her legs. She was past caring, he could do what he wanted, she was almost incapable of thought.

The force of her climax had stripped her of her will and her senses and she lay there dazed and weak. She felt him moving her, pulling her from side to side as he worked her skirt down over her hips. She did not help him, lying inert and immobile as he worked the skirt lower. Once clear of her hips it was easy and the skirt fell uselessly to the floor. He knelt down behind her, raising each foot as he pulled her skirt and knickers clear.

He leaned forward and held her knickers close to her face, she could see they were soaked. "Smell them," he said and she sniffed at them compliantly, dazed and robotically, following his every instruction. The smell that assailed her senses was her, pungent and raw and her eyes widened at the crude intensity of it. "That's the smell of a sexually active woman," he said quietly, "a woman in heat. That smell is you," he said his hand caressing the naked cheeks of her arse and the pink wet lips of her swollen sex.

He placed the sodden knickers on the workbench in front of her where she could see them and the raw scent of her sex filled her head, invading the room, invading her senses. He laughed and spread her legs apart with his foot, he was treating her like his whore; he had her naked from the waist down, face down up his desk, she had cum repeatedly already and his hand was at her sex again. She felt sore and dazed; and incredibly alive.

He stood slowly and positioned himself behind her; his hands moving to her hips. She feebly tried to stand but he gently, firmly, pushed her back down flat against the desktop. She sank back almost willingly, allowing him the control of her body once again. She closed her eyes but he slowly pulled her back towards him until her body was clear of the top of the desk, just her head and shoulders resting on the worktop. He stretched her arms to the side again, outstretched, hands on the worktop; positioning her as he wanted.

He stepped away for a moment to study her and she could feel his eyes on her, studying her and she felt her sex open for him. She had never felt so alive before, so sexual and wanton. He stepped back closer and put his hands on her arse. He rolled her cheeks under his palms and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, his raw energy, his need of her body. Like an artist positioning his model he tapped her legs further apart again with his foot, causing her to spread her legs and her sex to his gaze.

He leaned forward over her and gathering the material with his thumbs he pushed her blouse up her back and she half rolled, allowing the material to ride up to her shoulders. He unsnapped her bra before reaching around underneath her, pulling the front of her blouse and her bra up to her chin. Her breast fell free, feeling incredibly heavy, sensuous, dangling from her chest. She closed her eyes as his hands moved up to cup them, moulding to their shape, feeling their weight. His hands were so sure, so hard. Her drew her nipples down, milking her, stretching her breasts and suddenly she realised that she was mewling like a kitten, she had never felt so sexy, so sensual, she never wanted him stop.

He stood upright against her, his hands stroking her back and her flanks, running down between her legs, she almost purred as he touched and stroked her sex. She could feel her swollen lips open and her juices run. She was ready for him and she moaned softly as he spread her wetness down her thighs and up between the cheeks of her arse.

Finding the small, soft entrance to her anus he paused for a moment before pressing the tip of his finger once again passed the tight puckered entrance. She cried out for a moment in surprise and fear before the finger was gone and moving on. He stepped away slightly for a moment and she thought she heard or felt a rustle of clothing but then he was back, his hands caressing her body, loving her and she slipped back into the warmth of the moment, forgetting everything except the sexual thrill of the feel of his hands on her body.

Slowly she began to rise again to the sensations of his fingers on her skin. His hand dipped between her legs again, opening her up, slipping between her lips, stroking her already over sensitized sex. She was dimly aware his other hand had reached under her and cupped a breast, his fingers finding and pulling on a nipple. Her hanging breasts felt incredibly sensitive and she cried out again as his fingers pulled and teased her, drawing down her hanging teats like a cow.

Then she felt him. She knew immediately what it was that was resting against the bare cheeks of her arse. He had freed himself and his erect penis was now nestling between her thighs, slowly pushing up towards the lips of her sex and through the riot of sensations that were already sweeping through her her heart suddenly beat faster. This is what the girls in class had all giggled about; this is what some girls bragged about having done; the 'easy' girls, the cheap ones who had 'gone all the way'; the ones she had publicly looked down on but secretly envied. Now it was her turn and an erect penis was moving softly, insistently, against the lips of her sex, gently spreading them, insinuating itself, searching for a way inside her.

She offered no resistance, she felt no danger. She knew that he would not hurt her and she simply wanted these wonderful sensations to continue. She felt him push and her lips opened a little to accept him. It reminded her of some small blind animal, borrowing in the darkness between her legs, a soft warm snout worming its way inside her, knowing where to look, where to push to gain an entrance and suddenly she felt an incredible tenderness towards him and the gentle burrowing penis that she had never seen but which was even now pushing its way insistently inside her as if desperately seeking its way home.

"I don't want to get pregnant," she said quietly, as his penis continued to probe so intimately and knowingly at her sex.

"You won't be, I promise," he said and she felt the lips of her sex suddenly swell and open as the head of his penis silently slipped inside her. There was no pain, no gruesome tearings as she had heard of from her friends, just a warm sensation of fulfilment; and she gently laid her head back onto the desk, her arms still outstretched as Mr Keitel took her by the hips and holding her steady he slowly pushed himself inside her.

He slid in easily, pushing the air from her lungs, causing her to sigh in contentment and squeezing a tear from her eye. Looking back she would realise that she had played no part in the actual loss of her own virginity, she had just lain there and let him enter her; deflower her, pushing gently and easily inside her. She felt him slowly filling her, wondering at the feel of him, the hard length of him slowly filling her, the width of him, stretching her lips wider and wider. She marvelled at the feel of him inside her and vaguely wondered what his penis would look like when she eventually saw it; and suddenly she felt herself absurdly blushing at the thought. Mr Keitel without his trousers and an erect penis and she laughed quietly to herself, a warm flush spreading up from between her legs, across her chest and up into her cheeks.

When he was almost fully inside he stopped and she held her breath, feeling suddenly incredibly lethargic, almost idly wondering what would happen next. "Are you alright?" he asked her and she managed a hazy and almost distracted 'yes' in response. She could feel him hard inside her, his body holding her against the cupboard, both of them trembling, she more than he, as he stood still and silent behind her.

His hands gripped her waist again and with a sigh he leaned forward and he buried the last of his shaft inside her. She felt the end of his penis push up against the top of her womb and she cried out in wonder. With an almost involuntary reaction she tried to move away from the intrusion but he held her in place and the desk she was leaning on allowed no movement. She could feel all of him, from the tip of his shaft against her womb to his pubic hair coarse and tickling against the cheeks of her bottom. He was fully inside her; her first man, her first lover. She rolled the word in her head, 'lover' and felt the warmth of the word made real by the hard male member so real and alive inside her.

She tried to pull herself together, this was no fairy tale, no young girls daydream. She could feel his penis hard and rigid inside her. He had taken her clothes and bent her over the desk, stripped her and opened her legs, he had entered her and claimed her as his own, her first. And she suddenly felt she wanted to cry, a combination of emotion and excitement. It was finally happening to her, from schoolgirl to teachers pet, bent over almost naked with her legs apart, being screwed up against a cupboard in the school darkroom. Such a transition is a couple of days; and she felt her sex flood and her knees go weak at the thought.

'Please' , she whispered, her face against the unresponsive desktop, not knowing what she wanted to ask; 'please' she whispered again although she knew that he was past questions or reason, he was deep inside her, probably now lost to conscious thought, driven solely by the shaft that lay hard and hot inside her. So different for him than for her.

She felt light headed, weak, her legs trembled. She was so aware of her body, every last centimetre of it, from her naked breasts, hanging loose and pendulous, her nipples so tender that the very air seemed to inflame them, to his shaft, buried hard and deep between her open legs. Her sex felt wonderfully stretched and full, her lips engorged and incredibly sensitive to his every movement, every twitch of his buried shaft sending bright red bolts of light spinning up towards her brain. 'Please' she whispered again and he laughed quietly and his hips twitched and his penis moved deep inside her. She trembled at the feeling and at that moment they both knew that he owned her body and soul.

Placing one hand flat on the small of her back he slowly ran it up and under her blouse between her shoulder blades until he gripped the back of her neck. He held her there for a moment before reversing his movement, tracing the path of her spine down to the small of her back again, feeling the crack of her arse, almost to where his penis turned their two bodies into one. She could feel the slick wetness of sweat on her skin, smoothing the path for his hand.

Sparks of electricity fitfully lit her brain like a faulty light. Hot flashes of sensation crackled through her before converging on her sex and behind her hard and swollen nipples. He leaned forward and his hand followed the electricity to reach underneath her and cup one of her hanging breasts again. She moaned loudly as his fingers found her nipple and pulled downwards, adding his weight to the already potently erotic effect of gravity.

She arched her back downwards trying to ease the pressure, each small movement creating a counter movement of his shaft inside her. She whimpered and pushed gently back against him. His penis moved deeper. She could feel her juices pour out of her. She was beginning to float on the sensations, loose herself in the feelings he was creating within her. She wanted to scream and cry at the same time. The delicious pressure in her sex was unbearable. She felt him twitch inside her and he leaned forward, almost laying himself along the length of her back.