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School Memories, Chapter 3

  • Posted on December 12, 2016 at 2:40 pm

By Passing Cloud

I remember a feeling of empowerment when I awoke the next morning.

I had given my older sister an experience of ecstasy for the first time in her life. I had done it — no-one else. It was a sense of achievement; an awareness of my own capabilities. I felt proud and in control.

Then on top of that, I had found a way to give myself that same experience. With deft manipulation I could have that self-pleasure virtually any time. Two major events in one night, three in one day. My god, what would happen today? I strode purposefully off to school, my big sister trailing in my wake. My mind raced and I thought about Maria. I wished and hoped that she would be eager for some sort of repeat of yesterday, and I would have a chance to show her what I could do. To show her my newfound talents; to give her a taste of the pleasure that she’d already given me. I wanted her to love and want me like I did her.

It didn’t quite turn out that way, though.

My morning passed again in a haze of imaginings, but I did manage to stay out of trouble with the teachers until, at lunchtime, I was able to sprint off in search of Maria and the ‘gang’.

I met them, out of breath, in the playground near the library. They greeted me warmly, particularly Maria who, as I ran to her, casually put her arm across my shoulders (my heart leapt) and affectionately stroked the back of my head, trailing her fingers through my hair, briefly touching the skin on the back of my neck. (Oh, my…)

To my dismay, the first thing she said was “I couldn’t get the key today, so we can’t go in there,” nodding towards the hall. Then, seeing the disappointment written on my face, she smiled broadly, gave my shoulders an encouraging squeeze, and said, “But that’s alright; we’ll find somewhere else to go with my favourite little girlfriend.”

With her arm still resting casually on my shoulders, and me positively glowing after her “favourite little girlfriend” line, we wandered off behind the library — seemingly aimlessly — but actually with real purpose.

It was an old school covering many acres and, as newer facilities had been developed, the older buildings had fallen into varying levels of disuse. Such a one was before us now — a detached double unit, dating from the forties, boasting high steel-framed windows — still miraculously intact — now used as an almost-forgotten storage space for random pieces of school furniture and paraphernalia.

There was no one else about, so Maria tried the door. The old steel handle squealed as she pushed it down, and the frame juddered and groaned as she pulled, but happily, with just a little effort, the door creaked open just enough for a little girl to get through.

We quickly slipped inside, pulled the door closed behind us, and disappeared behind the haphazardly stored furniture.

It was a sunny day, and dust danced in the intensified light which burned through the tall windows. It was hot, much hotter than outside, and there was an eerie quiet — broken only by the sound of our feet as we shuffled through the maze of old furniture. I was dazzled by the glare as I gazed around, following Maria as she manoeuvred through the melee. There were butterflies in my stomach: adrenalin rising.

We came to a small area in the midst of an array of tall cupboards — an area out of sight from the outside, where a number of chairs were stacked beside a low table.

Maria pulled a chair off the stack and sat down, commenting, “Nobody can see us here.”

In turn taking a chair and sitting down, Nancy said, “What should we do, then?”

Kathy and Jude followed suit, taking a chair each and dropping into place with Nancy and Maria. They unconsciously formed a little enclave around the low table, one on each side, facing inwards. There were no more chairs.

Suddenly feeling isolated and awkward, I stood meekly behind Maria, saying nothing, self-consciously twisting my hair around the fingers of one hand while nervously gnawing a knuckle of the other.

Maria spun around, straddling the chair. She leaned on the chair back, rested her chin on her arms as she looked at me. There was a glow about her, a spark in her big brown eyes. A huge smile spread across her face and I was once more bewitched by her beauty; her full red lips, her even white teeth. I longed for her. She really was stunning. I noticed the flash of her pink tongue as she spoke.

“I know what I’d like to do.” She paused. “I’d like to see my little girlfriend naked.”

The butterflies instantly returned as panic swept through me. I didn’t know what to say. Wide-eyed, I looked around to the left, to the right — as though desperately seeking a way out.

The panic didn’t last long, however.

Maria stood, took my hand in hers. She lifted my chin with her fingertips, gazed into my eyes, said, “Will you, Little Sis… for me?”

Then the clincher. She bent down, put her lips to my cheek, kissed me gently and whispered, “Please.”

I felt the imprint of her lips like a burn. I was hers. No doubt. I would do whatever she wanted.

I bowed my head a little, and looked up at her from under my brows. It was a look of humility. I managed a sweet little smile, then nodded my assent.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “fantastic!” She took my hand again and, leading me as if onto a stage, said, “Here. Stand on the table and do it there so we can see you properly.”

As I stepped onto the low table (fortunately in one piece and quite stable), the others, who had been silently watching up to this point, burst into a spontaneous (if quiet) round of applause. Jude started to hum the tune from “The Stripper,” and the others all laughed, even Maria.

For a moment I had second thoughts, and pleaded, “Don’t make fun, or I won’t do it.”

Again Maria soothed me. She put her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “We’re not making fun of you, Sis, I promise. Come on, strip off for us.”

She sat down and there I was, surrounded on all sides by eleven-year-old girls who were intensely scrutinising me, waiting for me. I was the centre of their attention. Suddenly I felt important, wanted. I began to feel good.

I was facing Maria, who smiled up at me. To my left was my sister Kathy, to my right Nancy, and behind me Jude.

“Take off your blouse,” instructed Maria.

I pulled my crisp cotton blouse out of the waistband of my skirt and hurriedly unfastened the buttons. Taking hold of the open front, I quickly checked the faces around me. They were all staring, all smiling.

I removed the blouse and threw it onto an adjacent chest of drawers.

For a moment I self-consciously wrapped my arms around my naked torso. I felt vulnerable, exposed. Then I felt it. That warm glow between my legs, the feeling I had begun to crave: arousal.

In my language of the time, I was starting to feel “sexy.”

“Take your skirt off.” It was Maria again, another instruction — and more compliance from me.

I unfastened my skirt and let it drop to the table top. I stepped out of it and threw it alongside my discarded blouse.

There were a couple of comments then. “Ooh, sexy bum!” Nancy shouted.

“Nice knickers!” giggled Jude.

“Take them off,” said Maria.

I looked around again. The faces were suddenly more intense, more alert. Half-smiles flickered, tongues licked lips. I noticed a slight flush to Nancy’s cheeks. My sister was leaning forward, her arms folded in her lap. Jude’s eyes seemed strangely liquid.

I realise now that she wore her lust like a badge.

I faced Maria again. I looked into her eyes and watched as her gaze lowered; became focused between my legs.

I kept my eyes on her as I started to push my panties down. I slid them along my thighs, slowly — then, when they were at my knees, I let them fall. I stood up and stepped out of them.

Automatically my hands went to cover myself, flapping nervously in front of my bare vulva.

“Move your hands,” ordered Maria. “Put them on your head.”

I should have felt embarrassed, but I was actually grateful for the instruction. Having somewhere to put them, they were no longer my responsibility. Not my problem.

So I stood, naked except for my shoes and socks, and displayed myself.

Maria spoke again. Leadership seemed effortless to her. “Take your shoes and socks off. I want you with nothing on at all. Then put your hands back up.”

It was a strange moment for me. Essentially naked, I was feeling quite comfortable exposed like that, with the girls examining me. But as I passively removed first my shoes, then my socks, I began to feel more than naked.

In the brilliant, relentless sunshine, I felt oddly helpless, with no one to protect me. Vulnerable, like a baby.

Now with my hands back on my head, Maria instructed me again. “Open your legs a bit. Let’s have a good look at you.”

As I moved my little feet slightly apart — the table top wouldn’t allow any more — Maria got up and stood facing me. She was close, so close I could feel her breath on my face. Then, smiling warmly throughout, she started to feel me.

First she put her hands on my face, caressed my cheeks, my eyelids, my lips. She ran her fingers through my hair, then stroked my hands and forearms, which remained in place as she had instructed.

Her hands started to move down to my neck, then my shoulders.

She felt along the inside of my raised arms, stroked my sensitive armpits. I squirmed, my face contorting.

“Does it tickle?” she asked, her hands resting on my sensitive skin.

I nodded, suppressing a giggle, and looked pleadingly into her eyes.

Her grin widened and hinted at wickedness, as she said, “Don’t move,” then started to tickle me in earnest. Her flickering fingers drummed and played in my armpits, then tormented my ribs, then back under my arms. Again and again she did this, for what seemed like minutes. Her smile turned to laughter as I squirmed and wriggled under her gorgeous cruelty. She laughed as she ordered me to, “Stay still. How can I tickle you properly if you keep moving about?” The others were all laughing and giggling too as she tortured me, but I somehow managed to stay upright, to endure, to actually enjoy what she was doing to me. My helplessness manifest; and I was soaking.

Her tickles turned to caresses then as she felt my chest, gliding across my tiny nipples, making me tremble.

It felt lovely and I wanted her to do it again.

Instead she crouched down, sliding her hands down my flanks, reaching behind to caress my small, round buttocks, then down the full length of my legs — front and back — then, even, to my naked toes, which she stroked and examined in detail.

She stood up then, trailing her hands up the inside of my thighs until, blissfully, I felt her cup my vulva in her hand and slide her finger along the tight slit.

She said, “Let’s show the others,” and nudged me round so I was facing Nancy. Crouching down again, she carefully parted my little lips and, smiling at Nancy, simply said “Look at her little cunt. I love it!”

Nancy, even more flushed, reached out to touch me. Maria stretched me wider as Nancy’s finger tips tickled my exposed clitoris. She chuckled playfully as my hips involuntarily jerked, and I uttered an appreciative “Oooh!”

Softly she asked, “Is that nice?”

I could only respond through tightly pressed lips. “Mmmm.”

She took hold of my hips and told me to turn around. Jude was looking up at me. She was also smiling. Her eyes lustfully roamed up and down my body.

Maria, however, hadn’t finished with Nancy yet. With a hand on each of my buttocks, she used her thumbs to part my cheeks. I sensed the movement as Maria and Nancy moved closer to look at my anus.

I could feel their breath on the back of my thighs.

I can’t begin to express how exciting it was, that personal inspection — my most secret, private place (or so I thought) being looked at, examined in broad daylight. It felt so rude, so forbidden. I loved it.

Again I instinctively jerked my hips as I felt a fingertip’s soft caress between my cheeks.

Misunderstanding my reaction, Maria gently chided, “No, Sis, don’t do that. Don’t move away. Let her.”

I felt the finger touch my anus and Nancy sigh, “Oh,” then “Ooh,” then, to Maria, “I can’t believe I’m touching her here.” She giggled then and I felt a light pressure on my anus. It felt so nice that I wanted her to push harder, but instead Maria said, “Okay, move round. It’s Jude’s turn now.”

So the process was repeated — first with Jude, then with my sister Kathy. Jude seemed to be allowed longer to examine my anus — which she did while simultaneously tickling my clitoris — all the while commenting on how it looked and felt. Finally, as she almost penetrated my sphincter with her probing finger, she said, “That’s great. I love her little bum hole.”

By comparison, my sister only spent a short time inspecting me — presumably in reaction to her passive role at my hands the previous night — but nevertheless her soft touch and eager praise sent thrills of pleasure through me.

When they’d all had their turn, Maria stood up in front of me again. She put her hand between my legs and started to stroke me rhythmically along my slit. Her other hand played with my nipples, stroking, squeezing and lightly pinching them in turn.

It felt wonderful.

I stared at her lovely face as she played with me. I was gently swaying to this sensual rhythm, floating in pleasure, loving her more and more with each caress, when she leaned forward and whispered the question, “Have you ever been tongued?”

Continue on to Chapter 4