Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Becky is now nearly seventeen years old, and hasn't had an adventure for several months. But that means that this adventure will all the bigger!|
It was an early afternoon in the middle of Autumn. Becky had been at her new college for a few weeks, and was just a few days off her seventeenth birthday. It was nice to see some of the faces again that she'd not seen since leaving high school nine weeks earlier; interesting to meet those who she'd not spoken to or even seen since leaving primary school five years earlier - but a real breath of fresh air to meet some new people. Many new people to talk to... there might even be a relationship somewhere in the not-so-distant future. She thought, maybe erroneously, that because she didn't know any of the people there, they would be different to all the people she'd known before. Or maybe she hoped: she'd never been in any kind of a relationship before, and she didn't like the thought of being in a relationship, really, with anyone. There had been one boy who she'd liked until recently, but he seemed to be completely ignoring her since she quietly admitted her attraction to him. 'Arse hole,' she thought, and that was that.
She didn't seem to have been that horny recently, either. She didn't know why, but she seemed, every now and again, to grow bored of being daring and return to quietly rubbing herself under her warm covers in the comfort of her own bed. But it had only been around mid-June that she'd learned the thrill of cool air. Now, however, she was horny again. Royally horny. She had gone out and walked around to smoke late last night, and seen a drunken man pissing against a tree. She'd pretended not to notice, but found that the sight of a man's penis really turned her back on. Especially when it was so near that he'd have felt it if she'd blown in his direction, yet he was completely unaware of her. When she went home, she grunted a greeting to her parents in the living room and then launched herself up the stairs and threw herself on the bed, and began to rub, but something was missing. The cool air. She wanted cool air. Right now, though, she was so horny that it didn't matter - she'd do it properly tomorrow, when the family were in bed and wouldn't notice her being out for a while, and when there wouldn't be any people around - she quickly got off the bed and clicked the door shut with her foot, tore her pants down with amazing speed, and took the plunge with three fingers. No need to play around with this one, she was already really wet, so there was only this to do. She violently fucked her hand as though she was trying to squeeze her entire arm up her own vagina. She lay bottom-up, with her right hand underneath, and rammed her face into the pillow. She came within no time, maybe five minutes, and she lay there for a few minutes enjoying the afterglow of the recent orgasm. 'Now,' she thought, 'I'll plan my expedition for tomorrow night.'
She slept badly that night because of the excitement, but forced herself not to just go out right away, or masturbate again in bed. She wanted to want it and be excited about it, even look forward to it. The problem was that she only got about two hours' sleep that night, and when she went to college the next day she was very badly effected by both the tiredness and the severe horniness that had built up. She couldn't concentrate. At several points she came close to walking out of whatever class she was currently in and relieving some of the pressure in a toilet cubicle. 'No,' she told herself. 'Maybe another time, but not now.'
The time came, eventually, for Becky to go home, and when she got there she confined herself to her bedroom. She still - somehow - managed to abstain from going to town with herself, but it really wasn't easy. Six o'clock came. Seven. Eight. Eventually midnight made an appearance, and she started trying to calm herself down. She dangled herself out of the bedroom window and had a cigarette. It worked a little bit. She then found she was slightly hungry, so she went downstairs, trying to keep her cool, and made herself a couple of rounds of toast. After that, she sat around in the living room and watched some TV: it was on, it was there, it might help her forget her nerves. Maybe. At around one-fifteen, her parents said 'good night' and went upstairs to bed, and then Becky was alone. After about twenty minutes, she decided she'd have a smoke, so she stepped outside the house for five minutes, and when she got in she thought maybe she'd play some games on her computer for a bit. Of course, she forgot the time, but not her arousal.
After a while, Becky looked up at the living room clock. Three-forty-five in the morning. Perfect. She stood up and brushed herself off with her hands: she didn't need to do it, but it was a habit she had. She seized a couple of belt-loops on her jeans and pulled them up a bit, and straightened her white t-shirt. She went and walked out of the door, and locked it. The cool breeze was lovely and fresh, and she breathed in deeply through her nose, before giving in to irony and lighting a cigarette. The playing park was only a few minutes walk from her parents' house, where she lived, so Becky decided to walk slowly and look forward to what she was about to do.
Pretty soon the nerves began to set in again, and she began shivering slightly as though the air was ten degrees colder than it actually was. She put her hands in her jeans pockets and just let the cigarette dangle between her lips. There was a breeze in the air, which didn't help, either. As she walked, she though a little bit about how dangerous this particular excursion was. She was going to do the deed in a small playground, which was overlooked by a number of houses. All it would take would be someone up late putting the cat out, or else coming out to stand on the doorstep to smoke, and she'd be done for. And being so close to home, yet still in public, she'd probably never be able to go out again... in the area where she lived, word spread fast if it was some scandal about someone else who lived there.
She turned a corner and walked onto a different street, and then she saw the place where she was heading. The idea became even more real to her, and her legs buckled slightly. She paused and steadied herself on the garden wall next to her, and closed her eyes. Finishing off her cigarette, she bowed her head and took a few calming breaths. 'It's not going to kill me, doing it over there,' she thought, 'and if anyone does see me I can pretend to just be sat there on the swing. I'm not taking my clothes off this time, am I?' She opened her eyes and started walking again: she was only about twenty yards away from the place, and across the road.
There were three swings in the playground, and she sat on the middle one, and pushed off the ground lightly. She swung slightly, with her eyes shut, and, trying so hard not to be obvious that she was even more clumsy than she would have been had she not, opened the fly on her jeans. She paused for a moment, and looked up and down the street. No lights were on in any of the houses she could see. She slowly slipped her right hand into her open jeans and stroked herself through her underwear with her index finger. She could feel her fingers against her pussy through the fabric, but she wasn't really horny yet. Slowly and lightly, she traced circles around her pussy mound with her middle finger, just brushing across every now and again. She liked the feel of that, especially through the fabric of her knickers. It felt like they were tickling her of their own accord.
She carried on doing that for a couple of minutes, until she started to feel a little bit more sensitive. She paused for a second and looked up and down the street for any signs of life. None. She closed her eyes, and gently continued rubbing her knickers against her pussy, now starting to make a fist, and then pushing with her fingers as she extended them, so she pushed hard when her fingers were on their way down, and lightly tickled when they came back up. She was beginning to make her knickers slightly damp, but she wasn't really horny yet, so she continued, breathing slightly erratically with nerves.
'Wow, this is really open, anyone might see me,' she kept thinking to herself. She would look up and down the road every few seconds, just to make sure. She didn't know exactly what she'd do if she were caught. Maybe she'd come straight away with sheer excitement, or maybe she'd pass out with embarrassment. Either way, she was here to do what she wanted to do, and she wasn't going to stop. She had to carry on and make a good job of it, even if only to appease her desire for fresh, cool air against her hot, damp snatch again. She stopped rubbing herself for a second and pulled her knickers out, away from herself. Looking down at her vagina, she saw it was a slight orange colour from the lamp posts nearby. She blew, hard, at herself, and felt a tingle. She did it again, and again. Then, just as she was about to touch herself without the knickers there for the first time, she heard a voice. She froze solid and nearly wet herself. Quietly, but quickly, she let her knickers go, buttoned her jeans up, and lit a cigarette.
She sat there, trying to look like she was just sat there to look up at the stars or something. She looked up. 'They'll swallow that,' she thought, noting that the sky was reddish brown with the light of the lamp posts. Not a star to be seen. The voice spoke again. It was nearer this time. Someone familiar, too. Who was it? Then, the owner of the voice walked into view from the right. Kate! An old friend from school. And she was with someone who must have been her boyfriend. He spoke, too, slightly slurred. Drunk?
Kate just happened, at that moment, to see the lit end of the cigarette through the corner of her eye, and she turned round. Then, seeing it was Becky, she took a few steps and stood in front of her and said 'hello.'
'How are you? I've not seen you for ages,' she said. Becky's voice had gone for a moment. She coughed and took a drag from her cigarette, and replied, in what she hoped with all her might was a calm voice.
'I'm alright, thanks. You?'
'Yeah, I'm really good. Just out for a walk with the new boyfriend.' The new boyfriend nodded to Becky and said 'hello,' rather awkwardly, and they spoke for a second. Even though Becky wasn't masturbating right now, she still felt really, really horny. She found herself making a concerted effort not to gasp with Kate and her boyfriend here.
Finally, Kate and Dean, her boyfriend, walked off. Becky watched them go, and didn't dare make a move until she'd seen them walk onto the other road. Then, she slowly and lightly rubbed her thighs with both hands. She let go such a sigh of relief that she really did wet herself a little bit. She looked at the spot on her jeans and it made her feel both embarrassed and, if possible, even more horny. She put her right palm on the wet spot and felt its warmth die away. She gave a squeeze, and it made her eyes cross for a moment. She squeezed again and held herself like that for a second, before unbuttoning her jeans again. 'Take two,' she said to herself. She slapped her vagina through the damp knickers, and blew hard. The damp was cold now, and it was so unbelievable that she nearly came right then. Then she peeled the knickers away again and pulled them down her thighs by about four inches, making sure that she could feel the cold air but, hopefully, not be seen. She let her head roll back a little, and shut her eyes, and then started lightly tracing circles around her clitoris with her middle finger.
Though she was trying to forget that Kate and her boyfriend had just 'walked in' on her, she couldn't help imagining Kate with her. Kate had always been a nice-looking girl, and they'd been friends ever since they were small, but she'd never thought of Kate sexually, and she was pretty sure that Kate had never thought of her sexually, either. As Becky continued lightly tracing ticklish little circles, Kate's face popped again into her head, and watched her. Becky breathed in sharply and sighed, and shut her eyes. Her hips seemed, now, to be moving of their own accord, and this seemed to be a sign to go on to the next step, so she pushed hard with her finger against where she'd been tracing, and then started to slowly put her finger inside herself. The finger was cold in there, and she shuddered, but she forced herself to keep it there for a moment while it took some of her warmth. The finger started going in and out.
While she masturbated with her eyes closed, she still listened. The next person to walk in on her might not be an old friend, and might not be walking slow enough for her to be able to cover herself, or be talking or making any other sound to signal their presence. Still, she carried on. This was fun, and Becky never liked being denied her fun, whatever kind it was. Fun. She licked her lips and put another finger inside herself. She shuddered again, but didn't hold it in this time, she just carried on.
Her juices were flowing properly now, and the fingers were going in and out, in and out, and getting faster. She was getting far more relaxed now, relaxed enough to match her horniness. She took her fingers out of herself for a moment and licked and sucked them hungrily. She liked the taste of herself. The fingers were back inside her in no time, and she was masturbating again. 'Hmmmm,' she hummed to herself. This felt good. And she felt it might feel a lot better before much more time had passed, and she wanted that to happen very badly. Yeah, she'd hammered herself last night, but there was nothing like an orgasm you'd earned by working and waiting for it. She sighed again. Then again. And again, and again, but each time she did it it was less like a sigh and more like a gasp.
She clamped her mouth shut, because there was a house no more than ten feet away and she didn't want to awake anyone. She stiffened her body completely, her legs, her neck, and her arms. Her right shoulder was raised so that she looked lopsided, because her fingers were still working their magic down below. 'Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm!' Her toes curled up in her trainers, and she started kicking against the ground. Being sat on a swing, she started swinging back and forth, and she began to rock, unknowingly propelling herself back and forth rhythmically. Back, forth, 'hmmh, hmmh!' She exploded fully, and grunted animally, and started kicking the ground harder. Her fingers went in further and she curled them round inside herself, and they hit a critical spot: she squirted a small amount of hot fluid over her hand. She quickly swapped hands and carried on with the left, while she brought up the fresh squirt-juice and sucked it off her fingers as though it was the most delighting drink she had ever had. She swallowed it down, and it sent a tickle up her spine again and the orgasm, which had been starting to die away, began all over again. The right hand went back down and took over again, but the left stayed behind and tickled her hot, pink anus, and her right thumb rubbed against her clitoris. Without knowing it, she opened her mouth and let the sound of an inward gasp escape, and she put the middle finger of her left hand straight into her anus, and wiggled it around against the rapid pulsing, squeezing and relaxing motions all the muscles her fingers were touching were making. Wow, this feeling was good. Better than she remembered it.
But, of course, all good things come to an end. And sadly that includes even the best of orgasms. It eroded itself away slowly, and she growled at herself when it finally died. She let herself land, with her two feet back on the ground, and sat there for a moment, with her fingers still in their holes. It was a little awkward sitting like that, on her left hand, so she pulled the finger out quickly and wiped it against the side of her knickers. She then pulled her right hand away and bent forward a little to stand up while she pulled her knickers and jeans back up. She didn't bother fastening them up again yet, just sat on the swing with her eyes closed.
After a few minutes' cooling down, she opened her eyes again and slowly zipped and buttoned her jeans, stood up, and lit a cigarette. Now all she had to do was walk home and go to bed. But there was still the last glimmer of horniness in the pit of her stomach. She'd take care of that when she got home, though, it was time to get back now. So she started walking home again, and pretty soon she felt the cool in her pants, a mixture of urine and squirt. It added onto the feeling in the pit of her stomach, and as she walked on toward her home there was a tingling feeling in her vagina that was amplified by the coldness.
Outside her house, she got her keys out and unlocked the door, walked in, and locked it again. She glanced at the clock again and saw she'd been out for about forty minutes. She walked upstairs to the bathroom and washed her hands and left the tap running. She took her shoes and jeans off, and then her knickers, and warmed her hand up under the hot tap. Then, leaning on the wall behind the sink, she masturbated quickly. The feeling of the warm water was delicious, reminding her of when she first discovered masturbation in the bath about six years ago. She put her hand back under the tap for a second, then resumed. In no time, her knees started shaking, and she looked at her own face, into her own eyes. As she started to gasp again, she saw a spark light up deep in her eyes, and she leaned her thighs against the sink for more support. It felt cold, but she didn't care: as the orgasm came she lowered herself slightly and ground herself into it with her fingers still inside her. When the orgasm ended, she rinsed her vagina and fingers off again and went back downstairs without putting her jeans, knickers or shoes back on, but took them to her bedroom next door and threw them into it, after taking her cigarettes and lighter from a jeans pocket.
She sat down in a chair by the unlit fire and grabbed an ashtray, and lit a cigarette. Even though the fire wasn't lit, and she only had her t-shirt on now, she still felt quite warm, and was quite happy with herself after this latest adventure. She watched the smoke flow around in the dark room as she smoked the cigarette, and when she finished it, she stood up to go upstairs to her bedroom. As she opened the door and walked upstairs, closing the door behind her, she took her t-shirt off. Her nicely sized breasts were very supple, not very big, yet they still bounced satisfyingly.
When she landed upstairs, she went into her room and shut the door behind her, then she tossed her t-shirt on the floor with her jeans, knickers and trainers. She couldn't see, so she stepped to her bed and flicked her beside light on. Then she stripped her socks off and put them with the rest of her clothes, and turned to the mirror. She examined every inch of her body in the dim yellow light her bedside lamp cast. 'Becky,' she whispered to her own naked reflection, 'you're gorgeous. And a dirty bitch. And you love it.'
After a moment's reflection, she turned from the mirror and looked out of the window. The sky was beginning to grow light again. She then realized with a shock that she was to be back in college in less than five hours. That meant she could only sleep for four hours, at the most. She hurried to the wardrobe and grabbed something to wear in bed, and then she jumped under the covers. But she didn't sleep straight away, because the good feeling she'd given herself made her feel nice and contented, but also excited that she could make herself feel like that - even though she masturbated on a pretty much daily basis, the pleasure was nothing compared to what she had when she did it in some naughty place.
The next morning came offensively early. As she woke, dressed, ate breakfast and went to college she was would have sworn she had only slept twenty minutes. But she wasn't as tired as she had been yesterday.
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