Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


This an absolutely true story, although the names have been altered, and obviously I cannot vouch for the actual words used in the conversations – but the gist of them is more or less true, and certainly the events are as I remember them to this day. Apart, that is, from the scene in the restaurant with Zena where I exaggerated her mode of dress, but not too much. She really did buy a new mini-dress for the occasion.

In my capacity as an educational bookseller I often visited schools and head teachers and was fairly well known on my circuit. But it was after I had met up with a young lady, whom I later found was called Morag, at one of the teachers’ conferences that this story began. We had somehow paired off together, and I was pleased to have a companion at the various functions, until the night after one of the many functions when we both had had a little too much to drink. Nevertheless we were still quite capable, and it was probably euphoria rather than drunkenness which contributed to our finding ourselves on a bench on the sea-front in the moonlight. Luckily it was a particularly warm night, and we were chatting and laughing together, completely on our own without another soul around.

As quite often happens on occasions such as this, two almost strangers enjoying a brief flirtation with the knowledge that we would probably never meet again, we were both a little more daring than either of us would normally had been, and so I found that when I boldly put my hand on her knee as we tentatively kissed, her response was what I had hoped for, inasmuch as she made no response whatsoever, other than increase the pressure of our kiss, and so I risked sliding my hand underneath her kilt and began to stroke the sheer nylon beneath. Again no rebuff from her encouraged me to begin to creep higher on her thigh until it reached the top where she was already beginning to part her thighs. But as she was wearing tights it was not the easiest thing to do to go further without some effort or even some encouragement on her part, although her negative response had been encouragement in itself. But she did respond when my hand began to apply pressure on her buried pussy, as she broke our kiss to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not taking my tights off here, and in any case if you intend seeing me again we shall have to save something until then so as to have something to look forward to. Don’t you agree?”

So she was not unwilling to go further. In fact she was openly inviting me to see her again and to give me more of herself next time!

Needless to say, then, I found out where she lived and at which school she was teaching. And as this was the last night of the conference it also meant that we would not be able to meet again unless it was in her home area.

I made a promise to meet here in a couple of weeks’ time when schools would be back in session and then escorted her to her hotel. But other than another passionate goodnight kiss nothing further happened that night.

Remember, though, that this was some time ago when “boy meets girl” occasions were somewhat different, and more restrained in approach, and usually taking weeks or even months before venturing even as far as I had already done

However, exactly three weeks later I was able to be in her area, so obviously I was determined to look her up.

I hung around outside her house for over an hour, hoping that she would come out so that I could speak to her, and I was fortunate inasmuch as she came outside for some reason or other and saw me standing there.

She laughed at me, then, and said that I should have come to the door, as her parents knew all about meeting me. So she invited me inside and introduced me to her mother and father, who seemed quite happy for me to be seeing their daughter I spite of the fact (if she had told them, that is) that I was some fifteen years older than she was, and also that I was already married. Their attitude seemed to be that they were happy for her to have someone to meet up with, as since she had left college and started teaching she had been fairly lonely for some reason or other.

However, she left us for a few minutes whilst I chatted with her parents and her father suggested restaurants, after I had asked his advice, being a stranger in the area. In fact, he telephoned one whilst I was there and booked a table for us both in an hour’s time. Then Morag re-appeared and her father told her that he had booked a table. She seemed delighted with his response to me, and after she had kissed them both goodbye we walked to my car.

As we got in she turned to me and said, “I hope you did not mind my leaving you for a few minutes at home. Actually it was because I was wearing tights again, so I went to change for some stockings and suspenders. I hope you will approve!”

Approve? I was over the moon. So she had meant what she had said when we last met about something to look forward to!

Anyway, nothing happened out of the ordinary as we drove some distance to the restaurant, and we had a delightful meal, where I learned quite a lot more about her. This was her first teaching post, she was antalya escort twenty-five years old, presently living with her parents but hopefully some day she would have a pad of her own, and possibly teach at a larger school than the one she was presently at, which was quite a small one, and so carried no extra posts other than headmaster and three assistants. She liked music, she was good at maths, she had played hockey for the college and was quite athletic. It was when we were finishing our coffee after the meal that she also said quietly, so that no other table could hear her, that she was also no longer a virgin, and felt that she ought to inform me of the fact in case I had any qualms.

This latter revelation was also a blatant invitation! Because we were amidst others within hearing distance I said no more until I was helping her on with her coat, after she had excused herself to go to the toilet.

We were then nearer to the door, and our voices could not have been as easily overheard, as she said very quietly, “But I have kept my knickers on for the time being, as I have a feeling that you would like the pleasure of taking them off later on!”

Once we were in my car, though, I was a little amused to see the way she carefully arranged her coat and kilt so that her knees, which had been slightly on view as she got into the car, were once more decently covered. She noticed my amusement and laughed as she said, “Just so that you can concentrate on your driving. You can see more when we actually stop.”

“I can stop now,” I began, but she shushed me and explained that she knew a small country lane nearby which was hardly ever used with the exception of couples who might want a little privacy.

Following her directions we turned off the road and along a very narrow country lane, tree-lined and dark, until we came to an opening into a field, with a gated entrance, so that there was just room to park the car off the road and in case someone else came along.

“Now,” she said flippantly. “If you want to switch the interior light on I’ll show you my knees!”

I lost no time in switching it on, whereupon she climbed out of the car, slipped off her coat and threw it into the back before getting in again, and teasingly began to slide her kilt up to reveal her nylon-sheathed knees.

Cheekily she looked up at me and asked, “Am I showing enough, or do you want me to go higher?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” I told her, to which she replied, “Ah, but I must tell you here and now – unless you specifically ask for anything you will not get it. And I was at a mixed college, so there are no words you can teach me, so don’t be afraid to use them if there is something specific you want me to do. And I strongly object to using tame-sounding synonyms when there is probably a perfectly adequate word to describe what you want, even if it is a word you would object to hearing in a classroom. So, do you want me to raise my kilt higher?”

“Please,” I replied.

“How far shall I go?” she smiled.

“How far will you go?” I countered.

“Just tell me, and I will,” she teased.

“Stocking tops?” I ventured.

She did so immediately, and then said, “But showing those are too tame. Shall I go higher?”

I decided to venture into seeing how far she would take my verbal approach, although I, too, started tamely. “Show me your suspenders,” I commanded, and she immediately complied.

“That all?” she quizzed me.

“Up to your knickers!” I said.

She drew the kilt up until the tiniest glimpse of her white lace knickers was on show.

Again she quizzed me. “More yet? Perhaps it is as well that I have some knickers on, though. I don’t always wear them on a date unless there is a possibility that someone else might notice.”

“What a ‘come-on’ that was,” I thought to myself, and then decided to be really bold. I was about to risk her anger, but she had told me to be blunt, and not to mince words. Nevertheless I was quite apprehensive about asking the next question, and then plucked up the courage to do so at the risk of having my face slapped and never seeing her again.

“How many dates have you had when you left your knickers off, then? Or should I ask how many boy-friends you have had whom you dated in that way?” I asked warily.

Her reply came back quite laid-back as she said, “I am not too sure of the exact number, but at least half a dozen, although there have only been three whom I have allowed to go all the way, including the first boy I ever slept with at college. But they were all students at college with me. I have not met anyone else since I qualified and started to actually teach. At least, no-one I have actually liked, except one…….” and here she looked pointedly at me, “……and he will be taking my knickers off very shortly, unless I have severely mistaken his intentions!”

With that she pulled the hem of her kilt right to her waist, revealing, in the soft light of the car, the brevity of them, being delicate lace and dipping deeply in front so that the start of her cleft was apparent, hinting at kemer escort pleasures only just hidden below the fine nylon lace. The kilt was also high enough now to see the thin strap of her suspender belt, and from which her exciting suspenders reached down, through the knickers, and on to her nylon stockings.

“Don’t think I am being just a tease,” she said, “but although you can take my knickers down and play with my pussy I do not wish to go any further this time. I want to have something to look forward to next week.”

I lost no time in pulling them down, though, and was so delighted when she actually assisted me, revealing closely cropped hair, but it was also so fine that nothing was hidden. And already her lips were glistening with anticipation, so that my fingers started to make an audible rhythm as her secretions caused the squelching noise which can only be associated with that activity.

As I continued to rub, and she began to breathe more heavily her hand reached out and sought my own solid erection, which had been straining against my trousers, and which I was in the process of freeing.

In only took seconds before I was spurting, and Morag giggled as she caught most of the spurts in her own knickers, panting though she was from her own exertions.

But then she, too, suddenly jumped as she orgasmed herself, and together we locked in a huge satisfied kiss.

As we finally broke away she laughed again. I shall have to wash these knickers myself when I get home. I don’t think mother would be overjoyed to find them in this condition!”

We made ourselves decent again, apart from her lack of knickers, that is, and I drove her home. I was quite surprised, though, that even though her father was outside and waiting for her, she still kissed me, although not quite as passionately as previously, as he came to ask if we had enjoyed the meal.

I was worried that he might smell all that sex as Morag got out of the car, but if he did he showed no awareness of it. But in spite of his presence there she still asked me if I would be taking her out again next week.

In fact we did go out again, and once more her father made the booking at the restaurant for us. This time, though, I went prepared, and had a packet of condoms with me. It was also amusing once more that her father came to see us off, and made no comment about his daughter’s brevity of her skirt, which was already revealing the tops of her stockings as she sat in the car.

Scarcely had we started off, though, than she burst out laughing.

“Poor Daddy,” she chuckled. “He looked a little apprehensive when he saw how brief my skirt is, as he was able to see the tops of my stockings. If only he knew I had no knickers on – he would have been shocked! Although Mummy seemed to suspect something, for earlier tonight she gave me another talk about being careful when out on a date, and then she came into my bedroom just as I was dressing for meeting you. I did not mind, as we are all used to seeing each other naked in our house, but I think she also noticed that I had not put any knickers on, for she said something about hoping I would not be too cold in such a short skirt!”

“And what did you say?” I asked her.

“I told her not to worry, as the restaurant would be warm, and so would you car be, as we did not intend getting out anywhere!”

And then she added, “But don’t get any ideas yet. I think we should eat first, so as not to be too late for the booking. But I might let you look under the table if the opportunity arises!”

We had another delightful meal once more, and afterwards we were sitting sipping our coffee when she seemed to furtively glance round, and seemed satisfied as she said, “If I drop my tea-spoon would you pick it up for me, please?”

Following her glance round I saw that no-one was actually looking in our direction, just as she deliberately dropped her spoon beneath the table. I knew instantly what her game was, and so as I bent to retrieve it my eyes locked onto her knees beneath the table, which she now parted sufficiently for me to discern in the subdued light that she was, indeed, knickerless!

It was only momentarily, though, as we did not want to draw attention to what we were up to.

“Never mind,” she smiled. “There will be more opportunity when we are in the car.”

As it was summer, the night had not yet descended as we got into the car to drive home (the long way round, of course) and I was treated to another delightful display as Morag deliberately flaunted herself for me by raising each foot in turn to get into the car seat, and once more I was entranced by her beautiful pussy, so openly exhibited for me.

As this was a different restaurant from last week I was again on a strange road, and so Morag directed me, as she had done the previous week, to another favourite hide-away of hers. How she knew of these places I did not know, nor did I attempt to find out.

This time, though, as soon as we stopped she opened her door and moved onto the rear seat, where she lay back, held her arms high in enticement, konyaaltı escort then deliberately placed one ankle over the front seat backs and the other onto the back of the rear seat, so that her legs were splayed widely in readiness for what she had promised.

I tore open my flies as I followed her into the rear, and fell upon her in an absolute frenzy, for she had managed to work me up to this pitch as we drove along, by telling me what we intended doing, by reminding me that she was knickerless, by describing how she would feel when my large cock (and those were the very words she used) slipped into her juicy cunt. The only regret she had (she told me) was that she was not on the birth control pill, and so I would have to use a condom. How lucky it was that I had just bought some!

As I clambered in to the rear on top of her I was already rolling my fist condom onto my engorged cock, and she must have been so lubricated already that it slipped in effortlessly. A few thrusts later and I was jerking, as she squirmed and flung herself around in a similar frenzy.

When we finally finished, she looked at me, and said that she had enjoyed that fuck more than any she had ever had, and that she could now really look forward to more in the future.

This evening was to set the pattern for weeks to come, and regularly we met, ate, and fucked.

Then, one day, I decided to visit her school.

It was a small school, with a Head Master and four Assistant Teachers, all female. When I called the Headmaster was busy, but asked me to go into the staff-room, as it was morning break, and he would join us shortly. Morag was an infant teacher there, and so she was in the staffroom when I was shown in, and so naturally she was unable to hide the fact that she knew me. However, she simply told the others that she had met me at the Conference. I noticed, too, that she was more soberly dressed whilst in school, and was almost prim and proper. Naturally we all chatted as we drank our morning cuppa, but it soon became apparent to the others that she knew me a little more than just as an acquaintance from the Conference, and so she blushed a little as she made her confession – that she had met me since once or twice and that we had dined in restaurants together.

The other teachers were all older than Morag, though, although two of them were still in their twenties, I would guess. Anyway, we had a very pleasant conversation until the school secretary called to tell me that the Headmaster could see me now.

I did my business with him, and found it a very pleasant call. But that evening, now that Morag had let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, I waited for her outside school with my car so as to save her waiting for the bus. As she came out with the other teachers, though, there were slight knowing looks from them, as if they were now more aware of our relationship. Not fully, though, I hoped!

Anyway, I drove her home, and as she opened the door her mother called out as she was home much earlier than normal, and Morag ushered me inside as she started to explain that I had brought her home from school because I had called there.

“You are going out early, then?” her mother asked me, but Morag replied, saying that it was certainly a possibility as she had extra time now because of my bringing her home.

“Have you taken Derek round the flats yet?” her mother asked Morag.

“We have not had time to do that so far,” came her reply. “But we could do that today, now that we have some spare time,” she added.

“Good idea!” said her mother. “Why not go and change, then, and I’ll chat to Derek while you do so. After all, you will not be able to chat with him whilst you are getting changed, will you?”

As soon as Morag had disappeared, though, her mother turned to me and said, “Right, then. I know you are married and so you have no designs on Morag other than a bit of fun together, and she knows this, too. But promise me one thing – you will not get her into any trouble, will you? I mean, you do take precautions don’t you? And don’t try to deny what you two get up to when you are out so late. Her father and I well know what you must get up to, so just promise that you will be careful. She is too young to have to give up her career to become a mother.”

She was being so sensible and so understanding, and quite a modern parent with no beating about the bush. She had slightly stunned me at first by her forthright approach, but I quickly recovered and replied in the same straightforward way that I did take precautions, and that I would always have her welfare at heart.

“Good,” she said, “because actually she has met a boy more of her own age. We have all known him for some time, but until now there has been nothing between them. She has been out with him once or twice, but she still thinks the world of you. And I may as well be blunt with you. Morag is highly sexed, as you know, and needs her sex-drive fulfilled regularly, but we can see that she and this boy will eventually become an item. She has told me, though, that she is keeping him waiting for any sexual favours until he has asked her to marry him at least, and both her father and I agree that this is a desirable thing to do. But in the meantime I know she needs fulfilment sexually, and her father and I both know that she is receiving that from you, and perhaps not with our disapproval.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32