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Hopefully you read and enjoyed the first part , so here’s Part 2 of
Fucked In a School Uniform
I had no idea how uncomfortable a suspender belt was, how tight it had to be and how it pinched the little excess flesh on your hips. But as I stood in front of the wall to ceiling mirrored doors of the wardrobes in my bedroom I could see why women wore them and why men love them.
The black lace complimented the slight tan I still had. It was like a slash of black sex round my middle. The two suspenders, that I spent ages altering, hung down my thighs like stark reminders of what was between them. There was that little patch of fleshy excitement between the black, silk, French knickers and the tops of the black fishnet stockings that the sussie belt was holding up so high.
I’d enjoyed myself in Agent Provocateur buying all this gear, although I did keep feeling that suddenly a sales assistant, or even worse, a policewoman would suddenly appear and tell me that schoolgirls shouldn’t buy such stuff. And of course they shouldn’t really should they? Not unless they’re really a mature lover with an older boyfriend who’s going to spend the whole night making love to them, as I was.
“Hi, thanks for coming,” I said in the huskiest voice I could muster up as I opened the side door to Rob.
I’d left the door to the three car garage open so he could drive straight in and not risk being seen by the neighbours as he parked his Jag and knocked at the front door. His entrance and my greeting were both I felt, full of romantic subterfuge; I liked that.
Mum and dad had left early after enquiring what I was doing.
“Studying,” I immediately lied adding, when they both raised their eyebrows, for they knew I hardly did much of that now I was accepted by Bristol University, not that I’d done much before being accepted. “And going shopping.”
“Good idea Amanda,” mum said. “You’ll need a new wardrobe when you get to Bristol.”
I’d tried explaining several times that students nowadays only took their jeans and sweat shirts off to sleep or make love, and often they slept in them as well. But she seemed intent on kitting me out just as if I was going off to boarding school. That was a little tedious but it had its upside.
“Give her some money, David,” she told my dad.
Smiling he handed me a hundred pounds.
“Don’t be daft, she needs at least two,” my mum chipped in quite fiercely.
I enjoyed my Saturday morning spending the money allocated for uni clothes on clothes that could only be intended for one thing, getting laid in. I was surprised, though, that the slither of silk they called French knickers, the wispy lace sussie belt, the gosMandyer thin bra and the fishnet, seamed stockings cost more than dad had given me. Ah well, you have to make some financial sacrifices now and then for great sex, don’t you?
I spent all afternoon getting ready and day dreaming. I do that a lot. I get an idea in my head or start pretending I’m someone else and I’m off on another planet.
As I bathed and washed my hair, did my nails, pampered my body with stuff of mine and even more that was mum’s, I imagined the six bedroom, mock Tudor pile we lived in was mine. That I was famous, a writer or stage actress, nothing as vulgar as a pop star, even though Kylie did keep popping into my mind; hasn’t she got just the cutest bottom of all time?
I could hardly believe it when I saw the clock and that it was past six. Robert was due to arrive at seven and I was still naked. Laughing to myself I thought maybe I should say sod the sexy lingerie and open the door to him naked.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he asked as I let him in the door, not naked but in one of my mum’s long, black silk, peignoirs as she called them, sexy dressing gowns to most people.
“Just me darling,” I cooed putting my arms round his neck and moulding my body to his.
We kissed, hard, deep and long. Lip squirmingly hard, tongue probingly deep and mouth wateringly long.
His hands were everywhere. On my boobs and bum, up and down my legs, all over my back and in and out of my hair, that in an effort to look more grown up and vampish I’d put up; his hands made it fall down almost immediately. I was no slouch either, for I quickly had his shirt open and was running my fingers through the hairy mass and then down his back to squeeze the delicious cheeks of his gorgeous bum.
In my imagining about what would happen when, Rob came to the house I had thought we’d have a long, rather languid bout of lovemaking. I’d envisaged him taking ages drooling over my sexy lingerie and even longer drooling over me as we indulged in lengthy mutual foreplay. In my mind it was going to be gentle, slow, tender, considerate and very, very erotic.
In reality what happened was that he quickly fucked me against the kitchen wall, with me still in my AP seduction gear. He didn’t even canlı bahis şirketleri take his trousers off!
I didn’t know what to say as I tidied myself up while he went to the loo.
“Sorry about that babe,” he smiled seeing the look of disappointment on my face when he returned. “You just looked so fucking horny I couldn’t stop myself, I needed you so badly,” he went on taking me in his arms and kissing me. His honesty made me feel much better; naturally I forgave him.
He certainly had a way with words and knew the buttons to push to get to me. Quickly I was over my disappointment and once more was fancying him like hell.
“Let’s go to bed,” I suggested some time later after we’d been listening to music and having a few drinks.
“How thoroughly grown up and sophisticated,” I’d thought sitting around in my underwear sipping wine with my lover. I was in heaven about it all.
“What a good idea, I thought you’d never ask,” he smiled back.
I led him up the wide staircase, across the landing and into the extension over the big garage that was my “quarters” as, for some daft reason, we called the bedroom, sitting room and bathroom complex dad had had built a few years ago.
“Oh wow Mandy,” he said as I opened the bedroom door.
I’d popped upstairs a bit earlier and had drawn the curtains and the large room with the floor to ceiling mirrored wardrobes down two sides was lit by over fifty candles of different sizes. Flickering and reflecting in the mirrors they gave the large room a wonderfully romantic look. I’d bought ones that had nice smells and the combination of the aroma and the light made for a highly erotic atmosphere. I’d tried thinking about how I’d get rid of the smell before my parents return the next evening, but gave up, it was just too complicated.
I walked over to the bed feeling, unusually for me when with Robert, in control. I undid the peignoir as I covered the short distance from the doorway and just as I went to get onto the bed I dropped it to the floor. Scrambling into the middle of the American, king sized bed I laid back propping myself up on my elbows, looked right into his eyes and said softly in what I hoped was a romantic and sexy tone.
“Why don’t you come and make love to me Rob.”
He smiled, in admiration for my grown up approach, I hoped but probably really just because I was offering him myself on a plate; after all wouldn’t most thirty something men smile if an eighteen year old girl invited them to her bed to fuck her?
Our eyes remained locked as he slipped his shirt off. We stayed staring at each other as he undid his belt and slowly pushed his zip down. He was looking at my breasts and I was looking at his tight, grey KC boxers as his trousers joined his shirt on the floor. We smiled at each other as he slipped his socks off and then we just looked at each other, neither of us moving for a few moments.
And then, in what was by far the most erotic sight I’d ever seen, he took off his pants.
Slowly, tantalisingly so, he slid his hands inside the waistband, pushed that down a few inches then stopped, just gazing deeply into my eyes. I felt mesmerised. It was an amazing sight as he inched them down and down. I just couldn’t help joining in. I could see by the look on his face that he approved as I reached behind me and undid the clasp of my bra. I let the cups stay in place, held there by the friction from my breasts, but let go of the strap. His boxers were now down so far that the sprouts of his mass of dark pubes were on show. I put my hands on my bra covered breasts and staring into his eyes, squeezed them. He slid the boxers further down turning slightly to one side so that I saw his bare cheeks and the deep crevice between. I moved my hands away from my boobs taking the bra with them. He turned back and slid his pants down to mid thigh letting his awesome erection leap out from the cover of his boxers. I pinched my nipples, he stroked his cock. We stayed like that for a moment or two and then, after dropping his boxers on the floor he walked towards the bed.
As I watched him and caressed my breasts so I couldn’t help thinking it looked as though his cock was leading him to the bed. With each step it jiggled and bobbled and looked to me to gain in length and girth the closer he came to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I hadn’t so far in the affair had that much chance to simply look at Robert’s cock and now I could I was surprised how beautiful it was, a term I don’t think I’d ever used before to describe a cock. He wasn’t circumcised so it had that almost pointed end and shape similar to a space ship that I think is so much more elegant than the stubbiness so often found on circumcised dicks, well the ones I’d seen in magazines that is for at that time I’d only seen his, Kelvin’s and one other boy’s equipment, though I had touched one more, but that was in the dark and inside the boy’s trousers, so I couldn’t count that as a sighting. It looked canlı kaçak iddaa massive to me as he put one knee on the bed. It was thicker than I’d thought and the tip reached right to his tummy button. I so wanted to touch it.
I turned onto my side as Rob lay beside me. And then for the first time I was in his arms with both of us naked above the waist. My nipples and breasts felt every bit as good as I’d hoped they would against his hairy chest. His cock felt even better than I’d thought it would against the hardness of my mound and softness of my tummy and the sensation my hands received from squeezing and stroking his tight ass surpassed my wildest dreams.
Thus time we did make love. This time it was more than a fuck, well I thought it was. This time everything was unhurried, languid, tender, caring, considerate and so fucking horny that he made me cum three times before his climax. Sex in a bed, as opposed to car or field, I decided, had a lot going for it.
We stayed in bed for a couple of hours lying in each others arms, I may even have dozed off a couple of times. It was so wonderfully romantic, yet it still wasn’t dark outside and we had the entire night before us.
“Are you hungry,” I asked him around eight or so.
“Bloody starving, sex always gives me an appetite.”
Feeling all girly and partnerish I suggested I cook some scrambled egg and have that with smoked salmon, I’d bought that day, and a bottle of dad’s champagne, that I was pretty sure he wouldn’t miss, he had loads in the garage.
“You stay hear and I’ll bring it up and serve it to you in bed. Ok?”
“Mmmmmm, great,” He said, smiling and pecking me on my cheek as he cupped my breast in his hand.
“Make sure you don’t burn these when you’re doing your topless cooking, I’ve got good plans for them later.”
I skipped out of bed and started across the bedroom naked apart from the suspender belt and the fishnets.
“Oh I see it’s bottomless cooking as well then, you should be on one of those TV programmes, that’d put the ratings up.”
Laughing, I turned and curtsied to him. “You’re so kind.”
It really was lovely being in my home with him. The atmosphere was warm and highly conducive to the romantic situation that was emerging between us. I felt then that maybe there was more than just sex between us; maybe I was more than just a young chick he was using for sexual kicks; maybe I did mean something to him?
“Alright if I have a shower Mandy,” he called out as I left the room.
“Of course, help yourself to the towels there’s pile in the cupboard in my bathroom.”
Now and again I’d wandered round the house naked, never though undressed like that because I’d just had sex, usually it was because I was about to have sex, with myself that is. I remembered a day some time ago when I was home alone and feeling extraordinarily randy. For some crazy reason I decided to try to make myself cum in as many rooms in the house as I could. I managed it in the lounge, dining room, kitchen and three bedrooms, but the hall and TV room beat me. Still six cums in an afternoons wasn’t bad, although nowhere near the class record claimed by Rebecca Rose of twelve in three hours; none of us believed her really. I wondered if I would break my record today with Rob!
I’d never, though, cooked naked or prepared food dressed as I was. It was odd, but strangely titillating, to see myself in mirrors or to watch my bare tits wobbling a bit as I reached for the saucepans and glasses. It was even odder when I opened the huge fridge and rummaged around getting the eggs, milk and butter for the blast of cold air immediately hardened my nipples. Smiling I gave them a little pinch before starting to work.
His words made me jump, for in all honesty I’d been so wrapped up getting ready to start the cooking and being almost naked that my mind had again gone on one of my fantasy trips. This time I was a TV star that had a programme, The Naked Cook!
“Can’t have you getting cold can we?” I heard him say as I was turning round towards him. I saw that he was holding something but just what it was didn’t register at first. What caught my eye immediately was his wet hair and the fluffy white towel wrapped round his waist. He looked awesomely gorgeous and so terribly sexy I could have cum on the spot. Then he held towards me what was in his hands. My school blazer.
“What?” I said, genuinely surprised.
“Put it on Mandy, it’ll keep you warm.”
“Robert, it isn’t cold, it’s June.”
“Well if it isn’t cold?” he asked putting his hand out, “why are these so fucking hard?” he went on pinching one of my nipples, just a little too hard.
“Ow,” I cried, pulling away.
“Who you been fantasising about? Whose been fucking you in your mind,” he asked being aware, because I’d told him, about my penchant for mind fucks.
I smiled at him, although the grim, almost threatening, tone of his voice had scared me a bit.
“I’ve just been canlı kaçak bahis standing in front of that bloody great fridge looking for the food, that’s what’s made them all perky.” I didn’t add that actually just as he came in I was being shagged on late night television by a big, black guy wearing a chef’s hat and nothing else.
“Well whatever,” he went on holding the blazer up clearly serious about me wearing it. I wondered for a moment how he’d found it as it had been in one of wardrobes, but I let that go not wanting to
think about things that might upset the applecart. I turned and slid my arms into the red and cream striped school girl’s blazer.
“Fucking hell Mandy, that’s fantastic, you look amazing, come here.” He got hold of me and led me into the hallway where there was a long mirror that he stood me in front of. I stared at myself. Not being vein or arrogant I had to agree that it was quite a picture, quite a horny picture really. My chestnut hair tumbling down round my shoulders, the blazer, one button done up so that the lapels covered some of my breasts but left a goodly expanse of flesh and, when I moved suddenly, tantalising glimpses of the pinkness of my areola bare and open to others gazes. The blazer was long enough to cover my most womanly of places and to fudge whether I was wearing panties or not and it blended erotically with the black fishnet of my stockings.
I watched transfixed at the image he’d created for it did look, I thought, amazingly sexy. Probably the juxtaposition, I mused, kidding myself I knew what I was talking about, of the sophisticated and overt eroticism of the black fishnets and my near nudity with the youthfulness of my face and clear schoolgirlishness of the blazer.
I stared at the mirror as I saw his hands reach round my throat with what seemed like a rope. I was scared for a moment, but then I saw it was school tie. Relieved, I suppose I watched as he tied the knot and then carefully tucked the tie inside the blazer right between my two small tits.
His hands on my hips Rob said into my ear in a rather husky voice.
“A real, fucking Lolita aren’t you? If I didn’t know you were over eighteen and totally legal I’d think you was such tantalising jail bait.”
“Stand right there and stand still,” he told me as he turned and ran upstairs. He returned with a Polaroid camera in his hands. I always carry it in my bag for when I’m coaching he explained.
It was absolutely amazing and such a time of discovery when, for the next ten mimutes or, so he took pictures of me.
Nervous at first as he snapped away at me in the blazer showing my legs and flashes of my boobs, I gradually loosened up. I surprised myself at how easy I found it to relax and be myself in front of the camera. But what was more surprising to me was how I felt. I loved it. I loved the camera intruding on my every womanly place and I loved the way it seemed to bring the sexiness out in me. I started making love to it. The camera became a cock to which I gave myself.
Of course with a Polaroid the film is immediately developed inside the camera, but Rob didn’t show them to me or even look at them himself, he merely put them to one side. “Our treat later” he said.
I needed almost no encouragemen to slide the blazer down so I more and more of my breasts were on show; no encouragement to take it off completely and flash my boobs, cup them hold them and squeeze them as he recorded all those movements on his camera.
Was it the wine or was it just me? Or was it a combination of both that made it seem easy for me to lay on the floor one hand on my breast, the other between my legs as he stood across my body the camera pointing right at me? I didn’t know then just what it was that made me pose willingly for him however he asked me. Kneeling so he could snap my bare bum framed by the suspenders from behind from a; standing legs open, me cupping my pussy; on the floor legs open knees raised hands behind me so my naked, wet and open pussy was snapped. I can’t really imagine there were many poses we missed and he ended up taking shots of my face as I made myself cum.
Whilst posing was amazing, later seeing myself in the developed photos really was something else. I
couldn’t believe at first that the close ups of a nipple, breast, bum or pussy were me and more significantly, I couldn’t believe at all the reaction they had on me.
I’d never been one to get that much titillation from looking at pictures of men, or women come to that, but then we girls don’t do we, we’re not as visual as men? So to find myself becoming aroused as Rob and I stared at my images on the screen felt quite weird and was certainly then, and still is now, well beyond my understanding. What I did realise, though, was just how intimate an act it is when lovers photograph each other and particularly when they look at them together afterwards.
I showered after the filming, redid my make-up and applied some more perfume. I was ready for more love and sex and I wanted Rob to see that. I came out from the bathroom into the bedroom wrapped in a towel. He was lying on my bed watching football on the TV, it was the European Cup or something and England was playing, he looked up.
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