Literotic asexstories – Summer Ch. 14 Gwen's Story 2 by TheTyke,TheTyke
When she arrived home she had slipped quietly into the house and gone straight up to her bedroom. She sat for a while on the edge of the bed, her legs shaking and her heart racing, reliving what had happened, playing it over again and again in her head. She couldn’t figure out how she felt about it; she had no perspective, her world had just moved on its axis and she was not sure which was now up. She was still caught up in the wild and heady excitement and emotion of the experience. One minute she would burst out crying and the next she wanted to leap up and shout at the ceiling with pure joy and excitement. She was spinning like a top.
Pushing herself up off the bed she had finally stripped off her clothes and looked at herself in the full length wardrobe mirror. She was amazed that her nipples were still erect, red and distended and she could still see the marks of Mr Keitel’s teeth and fingers on her breasts, fading now but still visible. She had touched the fading marks with her fingertips sending warning shivers of memories down through her vibrating body. Without heeding the warning she had slipped her hands down between her legs to cup and feel her pubic hairs, coated in her own juices, now hard and matted around the soft, aching, fullness of her still tingling sex.
Her fingers had inevitably pushed between the soft, moist lips of her sex, unconsciously searching for the knowledge and relief that she knew was to be found there. The jolt of sexual excitement from her fingers that had raced through her sex was positively electric and she had rocked back in surprise. She was still incredibly turned on. As if in a slow running film she had moved back across the room, throwing herself onto the bed and rolling over into the foetal position. She hugged herself and tried not to touch herself as she rocked slowly backwards and forwards, trying to make sense of what had happened to her back in the school darkroom and trying to make sense of what she was feeling now.
She tried to remember it all and as she remembered her hand once again crept unbidden between her legs, touching where he had touched her and suddenly she was cuming again. Her orgasm was intense and crashed over her leaving her dazed and breathless. She felt as if she was on fire, charged with some kind of a wild sexual energy; she had just wanted to keep cuming and cuming.
As the light faded in her room her fingers had fallen from between her legs. She did not know how many times she had taken herself to climax but she had masturbated herself almost to the point of exhaustion. Her sex felt raw and swollen, her lips bruised and sore. She rolled over on to her back and in the gathering gloom she stared at the ceiling, a post coital tranquillity finally seeping over her, calming her, cooling her madness.
She had slowly got up and stared at herself again in the mirror, tentatively, exploratory; as if expecting to see a different person looking back at her in the half light, someone who was certainly more sexually mature, more worldly that she had been this morning and she was strangely disappointed to find only herself staring back at her. She examined her body and her breasts in the fading light and was again disappointed to find that the traces of this morning’s handling had faded and were now more just memories rather than real marks. Her badges of sexual maturity were fading.
Noises from downstairs had slowly, finally, intruded and she realised that her parents were about, her father home from work and her mother getting tea and she gathered up her still damp clothes and headed slowly off to the bathroom to run a bath.
The next morning she had awoken at first light and had had to force herself to stay in bed and wait until she could hear her parents moving around and knew that it was safe to get up without attracting attention to herself. She had lain there through the early hours, waiting impatiently, her hand slowly working its way inside her pyjama bottoms and down between her legs, her fingers slyly touching her sex, opening herself up to the new day and her first climax. Her fingers would not leave her alone and continued to stroke and manipulate her through climax after climax until she had to stuff her mouth with blankets to stop herself from crying out.
Her mother, passing by her door on her way downstairs had paused, disturbed by the muffled noises from her daughters room and had called out softly enquiring if everything was alright. Gwen had never heard, lost in her own world of flashing lights moving fingers and never saw her mother, suddenly blushing furiously as she recognised the sexual message carried blatantly in the her daughters sighs, move away from the door and slowly walk away, suddenly looking younger, smiling, her own head suddenly full of the memories of when she herself had moaned like that.
When the masturbation spree had ended and her fingers finally simply rested between her legs Gwen lay and looked up the new day. Noises from downstairs told her mother at least was up and she vaguely wondered why she hadn’t called her as she usually did. She dismissed the thought and rolled over in blissful ignorance, her fingers reluctantly leaving her sex, she would have been horrified had she known of her mother’s breathless pause outside her door.
Despite the need to get up and get to school she lay there for a long time telling herself that he would not be there today and that yesterday was a ‘one off’ and would never be repeated. Telling herself that she was behaving like a slut and to ‘get a grip’ she pushed herself out of bed. She dressed carefully for him in her best t-shirt and her best ‘Sunday outing’ shorts. She felt they were a bit old fashioned, baggy legs and semi elasticated waist with buttons down the front but they were the smartest summer outfit she could muster. She laid the outfit out on the bed and stared at it, eventually trying the shorts on and looking disapprovingly at herself in the mirror.
She eventually discarded the shorts in favour of the same style short gym skirt she had worn when ‘it’ had happened the day before. She thought furtively that if he had fancied her in it before maybe he would fancy her in it again, before quickly coving the thought with the lie that it was probably the best outfit if they were to work in the hot confines of the darkroom again. She lied convincingly to herself although she recognised that she could not look herself in the eye as she thought it. She sat on the edge of the bed as she brushed her thick auburn hair. He sex tingled and she had to resist the urge to touch herself again.
When she was ready she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. She nodded almost knowingly at the young woman who stared back. ‘Not too bad’ she thought and then stopped and on impulse she stripped off her t-shirt and then her bra. She pulled her t-shirt back over her head and looked at her reflection; her breasts were clearly visible beneath her thin cotton top and after a moment’s hesitation her nerve failed her and she pulled the top off again and put the bra back on. Staring at herself in the mirror she hesitated for a moment before she pulled the bra and top off again. Standing erect she admired her breasts in reflection wondering what he had seen in them that had so turned him on. She idly wondered if her breasts were somehow special and she hadn’t known it before.
She placed a hand under each breast, pushing them up and out although there was almost no movement in the firm young flesh. She touched her sleeping roseate nipples as she half turned her body to the light. Sensitive beyond belief they were immediately erect. In her mind’s eye she could see his hands on her body and her sex grew instantly moist. The urge to masturbate was suddenly fiercely strong and she had to press her legs together until the feeling passed.
Resting her head against the coolness of the wardrobe mirror she took deep breaths until she slowly regained her composure. She shook her head, she must stop thinking about sex, she must get some control back, she was acting like a nymphomaniac. She stepped back and pulled her bra on, reaching behind her firmly to fasten the clasp. She looked at herself and settled her breasts into the cups before pulling her T-shirt back on again. She looked at herself in the mirror and told herself firmly that she was being foolish and what had happened yesterday was a mistake and she could never allow it to happen again; even if he is there, she repeated to herself sternly, it must never happen again.
She had breakfast in the kitchen, fending off the usual questions about what she was going to do that day and what she had done yesterday. She told them she would be going to school again to see in Mt Keitel needed any help with the next batch of prints. “Think you must have a crush on him the amount of time you two spend together in that darkroom” her father said from behind his paper. She didn’t see the amused glances her parents exchanged when she had looked down, blushing darkroom red, while denying him furiously. He mother had looked at her strangely she thought, somehow knowingly although kindly and she had looked away embarrassed at the frankness she had found in her eyes. Her mother had gently touched her father hand which held the paper and had blushed herself when her husband had raised a quizzical eyebrow in response.
She had hung around after breakfast for as long as she felt she must before making her goodbyes and slipping out of the back door. She tried not to run but her feet felt light and she covered the distance to the school in no time at all. Her heart fell when there was no sign of his car in the staff car park. As her let her into the school through the small side door near the science labs the caretaker had said that he hadn’t seen him that morning. “Didn’t mean much though,” he conceded as he walked away, “could have let himself in with his own key.” But the science lab was empty when she got there, looking exactly as they had left it the day before.
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