Sunday, 18 October 2009

This is something for the ultimate lonely girl.

Not the girl who wants completion. But the one who stands alone no matter how many people are in her life. And the one who is constantly misunderstood. So this is a short story about this girl's erotic love.

While other girls dreamt about twilight eternities and romances, she dreamt about him.

When she was a girl she got her first feeling of lust. She developed early, she started her period early. When other girls whispered through the school doors like fairies, she walked with purpose, full breasts bouncing and dark eyes knowing.

She would sit in class looking out the window waiting for him to come to her. It didn’t have to be at night. She was ready for him to storm in the class and take her on the wooden desk.

At first he was only a feeling. Her first wet drop of excitement when she felt she had to cure the ache between her legs. At first it was merely a cure to the ache.Then he formed an image. Then the ache took on a meaning.

Her nights became longer as she discovered more about the way he liked to take her. Rough.


Like a man.

She imagined standing in front of the class blocking out the meaningless noises of the girls and boys and ignoring the perplexed glare of her teacher, and saw him sitting in front of her watching. In her day dream she opened her blouse and slid her hand up her leg exposing the flesh on top of her long sock.

He looked her all over. From her eyes to her pussy even through her skirt. His eyes would not miss her ankles or her calves or her stomach. Then she almost came when he looked at her tits. He didn’t make any faces, his emotion was hidden but his eyes were alight.

Then her dream ended as the bell rang. She told her friend she had to go the bathroom. Locking herself in the cubicle, with the sound of running taps and gossip, she didn’t care, she stroked her pussy through her panties and masturbated to him.

She came with a deep thud in her pussy and her lips silently forming an OH.

She pushed her face against the wall and wished he was cleaning his cum joined with hers from her moments ago filled pussy. He kissed her on the neck not chastely but passionately and then she turned around and he was gone.

When she got her period she felt her breasts swell. She got a rush of excitement when she knew he could give her orgasm after orgasm merely by loving them instead of her pussy.

When Dale and Kirsty said her breasts were the only thing noticeable about her, she moaned that they weren’t but at home she moaned as she imagined him seeing them for the time.

How would he suck her nipples? How would he brush his fingers across them?

She would laugh at distracting herself with the odd boy or two when it was him she really wanted. She was just passing the time. The boys she did distract herself with were a cut above those who had neither the brains nor the guts in her class.

It was then that she realised she couldn’t see her dream man’s eyes. She imagined him sometimes taking on blue eyes, other times taking on brown, depending on her boy.

Then when she first kissed someone, she ran her fingers through his blonde hair and for a second felt her true lover’s head between her legs. His hair was dark. And she came on his lips.

Needless to say the boy she was kissing made his appreciation of her responsiveness by grasping one of her breasts and pushing her against the wall. But she couldn’t remember coming again.

Twenty years later on the same day and at the same time, on a dark, cold night, she went for a walk. She walked to the small area with a bit of water. Her hands wrapped in gloves and her body covered in a coat. Under her trousers and ankle boots, she wore long socks. She wore no bra.

She wondered various things. What was love? Did God exist? Would she be a good mother? When would she hear the tragic news of one day her own mother’s heart stopping? How would her life be altered?

As she got up, she saw a man across the water. She walked up to the water. It wasn’t so much that he had dark hair that made her do this, it was the way he stood. He stood like she always imagined he would. He consumed her. She looked him all over.

She was nearly thirty. She had known a few people and she knew some things about her self and some things she did not know.

When she saw his reflection in the water it confirmed he had walked closer to her.

Then when she looked into his eyes she finally saw her ultimate erotic answer. She smiled and turned. She walked away.

In the next few years of her life, she lived hard and fast. She travelled the world, loved a few men and was aware of her exquisitely sensual nature, flying like a bird, having sex like a woman.

She never saw him again.