Summer Ch. 14 Gwen's Story 2

He reached under her with two hands and grabbed both her breasts. His fingers pulled and teased at her hanging nipples and she began to squirm against him, her sex begging for relief, her nipples aching. He expertly drew her nipples down, creating sensations that she could not even begin to understand. She was now rocking herself back against him, her juices sucking wetly where their bodies met. He pushed back and she cried out again, his length inside her now filling every last centimetre of her being.

Pulling on her breasts her lifted her upper body higher off the desk until she was almost upright and the angle of his penis changed inside her and she gasped, the sensation wildly different. She cried out with pleasure as he manhandled her, controlling her through her breasts. He pushed her forward again until she was resting on her elbows; her head hung forward and she was breathing heavily through her nose, hard flared nostril breaths, like a mare being mounted.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly, his mouth close to her ear behind her. She didn't answer, his penis inside her stilling all the words in her head. "I said are you ready?" he repeated, squeezing her breasts until she threw her head back.

"Yes!" she cried out, "for fucks sake, yes! I've been ready for days!"

There was a moment's hesitation and then with a small laugh John leaned forward and pushed into her as hard as he could and Gwen cried out, he was so deep inside her she thought he would tear her open.

John paused, buried in her to the hilt and then he pulled back and she groaned as he withdrew; a sudden void inside her that she desperately wanted him to fill again. At the end of his stroke he paused again before pushing back inside her once more and she rose onto her toes to accept him. She cried out as he reached the end of each stroke, a forward thrust that forced her sex open and pushed the breath from her body. He pulled on her breasts with each thrust, holding on to them hard to pull her back into him.

He was riding her and she knew it, fucking her masterfully and deliberately. She could hear him grunt with each deep thrust, filling her, almost lifting her off her feet. Her head swam, his hands were almost painful, gripping her breasts tightly, pulling her back up hard against him with every long and measured stroke. The sensations crashed through her, leaving her almost senseless, her body bouncing uncontrollably to each and every relentless, remorseless, thrust.

He released her breasts and pushed her fully forward face down again flat upon the desk. He placed a hand firmly between her shoulder blades and pushed hard with is hips. She cried out, she thought that this time he was surely going to push through the top of her womb; her sex stretched to accommodate him. He changed the rhythm of his attack to long, deep, slow penetrating strokes that she could feel throughout her body. She could feel every last centimetre of his length as he withdrew and then pushed back inside her.

With his free hand he reached around and under her, delving between her legs, his fingers at the entrance to her sex searching for her clitoris. She cried out as he found her, his fingers immediate, insistent, drawing the protective hood aside to stroke raw and immediate fire from her small, sensitive nub. White noise exploded in her head. She cried out and bit her arm, his fire was already raging through her, fingers and shaft creating a white heat deep within her sex, a burning sensation that she somehow understood was already blowing her world apart.

She gripped the desk as if to save herself from falling as every muscle in her body responded to him. She thrashed on the end of his shaft as his strokes drove all rational thought from her head. She was filling with a roar that was coming from deep within her, from deep within her sex; and then he groaned and she felt him push harder into her, she could feel his shaft twitch and pulse deep within her as his movements became hard and jerky. He pushed deep into her, his weight leaning forward on to her hips, crushing her against the desk, pushing his penis hard up against the top of her womb. She knew somehow that he was cuming, filling her, claiming her, and the knowledge took her over the top into her own mind wrenching orgasm.

She knew that she screamed, that she thrashed her head and pushed back against him, trying to push him even deeper into her wide open sex and that even in the wild raging delirium of her own climax she heard him cry out and try to bury himself even deeper inside her.

She knew he had come. She felt the spasm in his hips and swore that she could feel his semen splashing into her, filling her, coating her womb. He cried out blindly and pushed again, this time a lesser attempt to pierce her soul than the last but she could still feel his penis pushing hard up into her and instinctively she gripped his shaft with her vagina, milking him as he continued to ejaculate inside her. He pushed hard for third time, straining to cum again, emptying himself, his hand, lost in his own climax, pushing her down hard against the desktop. He shuddered and strained, his strangled cries slowly dying on his lips.

Then all was quiet except for their ragged breathing. He slowly collapsed forward onto her back, resting his weight on his arm alongside her. She could feel him slowly beginning to deflate inside her, to slide out of her, to vacate the womb that he had so recently owned and controlled. She began to cry softly, quietly, large tears that formed and fell of their own accord wetting the desk beneath her. He slowly pushed himself upright and she felt his penis slip from her, slickly, slippery, slinking away somehow like a thief in the night and she cried harder, deep silent, wracking sobs that shook her shoulders.

She felt him stand back a little and adjust his clothing but she just lay there, face down, inert, somehow unconnected, slightly dazed by what had just happened. Then he was back with her, his hands stroked her shoulders and back.

"Are you OK?" he asked quietly, his hands now tentative although comforting. He took her by her shoulders and raised her from the desk, turning her around and pulling her close into his chest, his arms protectively enfolding her. He stroked her hair, "Are you alright?" he asked again, holding her tight to his chest. This time she nodded and sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

He laughed and raised her face and she found herself looking into his eyes, very blue, very concerned and yet smiling. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He brushed a strand of hair from her face, "I got a little carried away," he added with an apologetic shrug, "It's been a long time," he said looking at her for some understanding.

"No," she said quietly, "you didn't hurt me." She shook her head and he pulled her close into his chest again, one hand stroking the back of her head. She closed her eyes and let the closeness of him seep into her.

"That was your first time wasn't it?" he asked, "You were a virgin weren't you?" he supplied when she didn't answer.

"Yes," she offered almost in a whisper, "but don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It will be our secret."

"Our secret," he answered almost distractedly, "our secret." She nodded emphatically and he wiped a tear away from her face with his thumb. She smiled up at him.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked, "for your first time?"

She nodded, "It was absolutely fantastic!" she said quietly, "I never imagined .... when the other girls talked about it ... " she trailed off feeling foolish and he smiled.

"It's OK," he said, "I understand." She blushed and looked down. "When did you plan it?" he asked quietly.

"Plan what?" she asked confused.

"This," he said, indicating the room, "your seduction." She looked back at him blankly. "You wanted it to happen," he offered and she nodded, "you were hoping that it would. Last time was an accident but this time was planned."

"Was I that obvious?" He reached down and his hand closed around her breast and she moaned softly into his chest at the touch, surprised that she was still so turned on.

"Yes, you were to me anyway," he said, "I knew that you wanted to do it since we first touched the other day, you were a dead giveaway."

He fondled her breast for while and she snuggled close against him. She was just so aware of him as a man that she was having difficulty in keeping still as his hand moved over her breast.

"Let's have this off shall we?" he asked and pulled her wet shirt up and over her head, he flapped it out and hung it on the back of the door, her bra followed and finally she was completely naked. He sat her down on a stool and stood back to look at her and once again she suddenly she felt embarrassed to be naked in front of him; fully dressed he had reverted to Mr Keitel the schoolteacher.

He stared at her for a long time, openly inspecting her naked body; he was looking at her as no schoolteacher had ever done before and she looked away. It was like one of those childhood dreams where you find yourself walking naked through school while everyone else is fully dressed and staring at you. His blatant interest in her body felt strange but at the same time incredibly exciting; enough to keep her nipples erect and her sex tingling. In defence she pressed her legs together and folded her arms across her chest.

"Open your legs," he said quietly and she looked at him blankly. He made no move.

"What?" she asked meekly.

"Open your legs," he instructed again and slowly, "I want to look at you," he said and as if hypnotised, she did as she was told.

She sat with her arms folded across her chest and with her legs open for his inspection, her sex on display.

"Wider please," he said quietly and she watched her legs open even wider, opening herself to his gaze. He looked at her sex for a long time and she could feel herself becoming wetter under his absorbed and intense stare.

He eventually turned around and pulled a towel from one of the drawers and knelt in front of her. "There," he said as if to a small child, taking hold of her arms and moving them down to her side. She offered no resistance. He applied the towel to the moisture between and below her breasts, drying carefully under each, slightly lifting each in turn. "You're all wet," he said simply, his hands moving intimately over her, drying her off.

The towel briefly felt excitingly rough against her erect nipples and she fought back a moan before he moved on down her abdomen to the moisture coating her inner thighs, drying her as he went. He held her legs open for a moment while he inspected her sex and she sat there compliantly, submissive, docile, fully allowing him this open intimacy. Finally leaning forward he placed his hands on the inside of her thighs and gently pushed her legs fully open, her sex gaped and their combined juices began to flow out of her.

She looked up at him finally embarrassed but instead of withdrawing he leaned forward and with a frown of concentration he began to dry between her legs, starting with her thighs but eventually moving up and onto her sex. He opened her with his fingers and patted her dry, pausing to pay special attention to her clitoris, drying around it carefully

She almost came at his touch and she almost found herself whimpering as he dried her sex. When he had finished he put the towel to one side and knelt there, inspecting his handiwork.

"Beautiful," he said eventually, looking up into her face so she was not sure what he was talking about, his handiwork, her face or her sex, "Absolutely beautiful," he said, his eyes moving back to her sex. She caught her breath as he suddenly stroked the length of her with the back of his knuckle. Looking down at his hand she suddenly saw herself clearly, sitting naked on a stool in a darkroom in the science lab at school with one of her teachers kneeling between her open legs, stroking her sex and her excitement rose until she thought she would burst.

His finger continued to stroke gently at her lips causing her to quiver like an over strung bow. "Red pubes. How beautiful. Matches the hair on your head," he said quietly and with his finger and thumb he spread her sex, opening her up to his gaze again. She watched as he peeled her lips back to reveal her, wet and coral pink inside. "Fantastic." He muttered and smiled up at her. "You really don't know how beautiful you are," he said quietly and she blinked back at him, wide eyed and lost.

He straightened up and stepped away leaving her sitting there, open legged, watching him. He opened a cupboard and pulled out his 35mm camera and quickly fastened a flashgun to it. He turned and smiled at her and held up the camera with one hand. "May I?" he asked somewhat formally. Gwen nodded without thinking, closing her legs a little.

He fussed around for a moment selecting a roll of film from the stock in the cupboard before flipping the camera open and loading it. He turned back to face her, smiling, before raising the camera to eye level. There was a subdued bounced flash and he lowered the camera again.

"There, that wasn't too bad was it?" he asked and Gwen shook her head. She was strangely relaxed, her sex boiled between her legs, her nipples were erect and proud; she felt the sexiest, the most uninhibited, that she had ever felt in her whole life.

The camera flashed again and she found herself smiling back into the lens. He moved around her quickly, taking shot after shot, kneeling between her legs for close-ups of her moist sex, she could feel the moisture rolling down between her thighs again and she didn't care, she let him photograph her however he wanted wherever he wanted.

She was compliant and he positioned her as he wanted her, moving a leg there, draping an arm here. He pulled her hips forward to the edge of the stool opening her legs lewdly to the camera and angled her body back to rest against the cupboards behind her. She lay semi-recumbent, her legs wide, her sex and her sexuality open to the neutral eye of the camera. Her sex smouldered as she gazed back into the lens, sometimes seeing her reflection, sensual, slick and sultry. Smoke rose from between her open thighs, searing her image into the film. He had lit a fire between her legs that would never be extinguished, a need to be touched that would drive her for the rest of her life, which would smoulder between her thighs forever.

He pushed her hair from her face and her eyes blazed back at him from under her fringe. He touched her breast, her skin hot against his fingers. She smiled his hands warm and welcome on her body, positioning her, opening her up for his pictures. She craved the attention. She began to squirm as her excitement bubbled through her from between her legs. She needed him to touch her. To feed the heat that was smouldering between her legs which at a touch would burst into flame, licking their way up through her belly to set her breasts alight. She was a pyrotechnic display waiting to explode.

He stood her up, he laid her down, she held herself open, her need to cum boiling between her legs. Finally he finished and he sat her down again, her legs apart and her sex on fire. He placed the camera down on the worktop and pausing for a moment he turned back to face her. She waited, passively, expectantly, looking up at him standing above her looking down at her naked body. Smiling her slowly reached up and pulled his wet t-shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor beside her own clothes.

She caught her breath and looked at him standing before her dressed only in his shorts and shoes. He looked strange. For all their intimacy she had never seen him this naked, this close before. She had briefly once seen him without his shirt before, at a school sports day when he had for some reason changed shirts between events. Then she had felt an illicit thrill at the sight of his broad shoulders and flat chest, the down of fair hair reflected in the strong sunlight; but that was then and this was now and the context was much more intimate, more sexual; this time this was real, this time he was stripping for her.

He stood above her, half naked with a matching half mocking half smile on his face. Never taking his eyes off her he stepped out of his shoes and kicked them away and her mouth went dry. He smiled and in one motion he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pushed them and his underpants down to his knees. Straightening he moved his legs and the shorts fell to his ankles. He stepped out off them and kicked them away. He stood for a moment, completely naked, smiling down at her.

Her smile had faded; she looked at her teacher standing naked before her. Her eyes traced the fair hair down across his stomach to the mess of slightly darker hair at his groin. He opened his arms at his side to provide her an unobstructed view of himself. In disbelief she gazed at the first real male member she had ever seen close to, one that was personal and intended for her inspection. She had caught glimpses of others before, some flashed intentionally and some by accident; but they had always been strangely unrelated to her, objects rather than something that was close up and very personal.

She stared at him in a mixture of amazement and awe. He was so different to what she had expected somehow; so male and yet so seemingly vulnerable, hard and yet gentle at the same time. His closeness overpowered her senses and she watched in fascination as his penis twitched and began to grow of its own accord, swelling slowly and rising up from between his legs, somehow she thought it was the sexiest thing she had ever seen and she closed her legs slightly in an attempt to hide her own arousal.

He looked down at his slowly growing penis and laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said quietly and she smiled back at him with a schoolgirl's lack of understanding. "Well," he said at last, raising an eyebrow, "will I do?"

"Do?" she said stupidly. She had not realised that he was opening himself for her critical inspection, for her comment. That perhaps he was as nervous of displaying his body to her as she had worried about hers for him. She had not realised that as he took his clothes off she had had any choice in what was happening. He indicated his body with a wave of his hand and slowly did a pirouette in front of her, his penis bobbing slowly before her face.

"Do I pass muster?" he asked again, serious, needing her approval. She nodded vaguely, she had no point of reference for such a question, he was the first man she had ever seen naked, let alone erect. She was just stunned by his maleness, by the nearness of him, by his sheer animal presence, his vitality and sexuality, by the wetness seeping down between her legs, by the fact that he had already taken her virginity, made her climax repeatedly, by the fact that he was already erect again, by the fact that she wanted him inside her again and by the fact that whenever she looked at him she could not breath properly.

He moved closer, standing now between her open legs and she looked up at him towering above her, the conquered and the conqueror. He reached forward and held the back of her head, gently pulling her slowly forward until her face was mere inches away from his groin and his now fully erect penis. She looked up at him, his face was impassive but his eyes were intense. He drew her forward unresistingly and she placed her hands on his thighs and was startled by the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. He moved his hips forward and the tip of his penis touched her mouth. She looked up at him as he rubbed it slowly back and forth across her lips. She opened them slightly and touched the tip with her tongue; the salty sperm taste filled her head, burning through synapses, jolting through her body as if uncovering some deep animal memory of some forbidden and long lost pleasure.