She had such a gorgeous ass. The two cheats were large, round, and bulbous, flowing gently from her curved hips and slender torso. To watch it as she walked up the halls in front of me between classes, as it swayed and shook from left to right, was intotoxicating. Her name was Ashley Harris.
I yawned and stretched with an unnecessary groan as I struggled to maintain consciousness in my third period Physics class. The substitute, with Mr. Rodney being absent for the fifth time in two weeks, locked idly in his chair, his eyes closed in an resilient slumber. He didn’t wish to be here anymore than I or the rest of the class did. To my left, my friend Rachel Cornier sat doodling on a blank sheet of paper, mumbling to herself, as she sometimes did. The only reason I noticed this one bit of activity was the fact that I had my head laid facing her.
She was attractive, but not overly so. Her thick, wavy, auburn hair fell freely around her slenderShoulders and across her small, perky breasts. As she focused on her apparently important drawing, I was given an all-angles view of her cute, childish face, with her bright hazel eyes moving busy across the page. I smiled to myself. She was cute, humorous, and spontaneous, but she was simply a friend.
The classroom, with all its contents, seems to lurch as the bell announced the end of the class. I stood, should have my bag, waved to Rachel, and left towards the lunchroom. To my surprise and pleasure, I left the room just in time to see Ashley walk by. This was a habit of mine. At times I even waited at the door for her to pass, simply so I could star behind her as her amazing as cheeses jiggled to and fro. I knew it had a stalker-like air, but the massive hard-on I got between classes told me that I didn’t care. She was gorgeous from in front and behind.
She had dark brown hair, accented with blonde, which was cut in layers at shoulder length. It framed out her slender, soft-featured face perfectly. Her figure was equally perfect, with her large, C-cup boobs perpetually stuffed into a shirt, tank-top, or other covering that was obviously too small. She seemed to be added to skin-tight jeans because she wore them all the time. It was incredible how hard I could get just by looking at this magnificent display of under-sized clothing and the beautiful shapes of flesh crammed inside them.
I sat down in my next class, fully aware of the rock-hard member stuck inside my jeans. The image of that bulge of ass-flesh was burned in my mind in such a way that I found it impossible to think about anything else. Back and forth… back and forth… so big and round… Without thinking about what I was doing, I got up from my seat and snatched a pass to the restroom from the hook beside the door. I made straight for the bathroom, hoping to God that it was vacant. My mind was a blur of longing, of need, and all I could consider was how incredibly horny I was.
I scanned each stall of the bathroom, making sure it was indeed empty, before entering one, locking the door firmly, and seating myself on the toilet. My hands shook frantically as I struggled to pull down my zipper and manipulate my constrained wood through the hole in my boxers and the fly of my pants. My familiar hardened meat felt warm and thick in my cool, trembling hand. I gripped it firmly, struggling to control my rapid breathing, and began to massage the head gently with my thumb. The relief of attention made my cock twitch with joy, and as the sensing shot through my body, I throw my head back, mouth agope, in a silent moan.
I began to pump my hand up and down the shake as my mind raced through fantasy after fantasy. In my mind, I saw myself sliding my cock between those pump ass cheats, penetrating her tiny, pink anus, and sliding all the way in with my hands on her tits and her mouth open in pleasure. The imagein my mind went faster, faster, pumping in and out, a light sucking sound emanating from the union of my cock and her ass. She moaned my name. I pumped harder. Harder. It felt so amazing. Still I struggled, seated in my pleasure box, to stay quiet as closer and closer I came to a climactic relief.
It felt so good that I lost track of the time I had spent in the bathroom and whether I had been eavesdropped upon. Finally, I felt my cock swelling with my long-needed load. I squeezed harder and pumped faster, lifting off of the toilet seat and breathing hard, but silently. Suddenly, and with a few soft grunts, I came with a tidal wave of pleasure and release, shooting four distinct spurts of my hot, sticky seed down into the toilet bowl. Collapse against the wall of the stall, I breathed my relief and ecstasy. Then I remembered where I was. I zipped up my pants, straightened my clothes and hair, and rushed back to class, hoping that I hadn’t been gone too long.
I rushed through my bedroom door just in time to answer the phone. I snatched up the receiver and said a breathy “Hello?” as I slung my book bag off of my back and collapsed backward onto my bed. The voice that assaulted my ear from the other end was soft and sweet with a slight country accent: Rachel.
“Hey, Zack,” she said cheerily. “Just get home or somethin’?”
I smiled and replied “Yeah. It never fails. You always call me right when I get home. I think you must be psychic.” She giggled lightly, causing an odd sensing in my brain. Giggles were my weak spot. “What can I do you for.. erm.. do for you?” I asked, tossing in a bit of sexual humor.
“A hundred an hour,” she laughed, continuing the joke. “Gotta pay bills, ya know. No, actually I was wondering if you’d… I dunno, like to come over later or something? It’s been awhile and mom’s making her spaghetti.” I had always been really close with Rachel and her family. When we were little, I used to spend hours playing with her due to my own dorky, unpopular nature. As much as I wanted to come over, if nothing else simply for something to do, it was odd that she was asking me after such an extended period.
“Uhh… I suppose I could,” I replied, trying to sound as if it were a tough decision. “Dad might want me here.. Hmm.. Hold on a sec. I’ll call him and ask.”
“Mmk…” She sat silently on the other end as I pulled out my cell phone and called my dad at work. A gruff, slightly annoyed voice answered.
“Robert Womack speaking; how can I help you?”
“Hey, Dad. Can I go to Rachel’s for dinner?” I knew he’d say that I could. This was strictly for theatrical purposes.
“You know it’s fine, Zack. I don’t care. Don’t be too late, but hey. When are you and her gonna hook up, huh? It’s been long enough..” he prodded at me.
“Dad. Be for real. You know Rachel’s just a friend.” I answered honestly.
“Yeah, yeah… alright I have to go. Talk to you later.” We both hung up, but I had an odd idea in my head.
“Alright, Dad… why? C’mon, please… ugh! Alright fine…” I continued the fake conversation. “Whatever. Bye.” I hung up the already dial-toning phone and picked back up the house phone. “I hate my dad,” I said to Rachel, faking an annoyed voice.
“What, you can’t come?” she asked almost anxiously.
“No.” I sawed.
“Well, damn… that sucks. Alright, that’s cool I guess.”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry.”
“No don’t worry about it. If he changes your mind, though, you can still come.” she continued, trying to find a way.
“Alright, but you know he doesn’t ever change his mind.” I said, furthering the pseudo-impossibility.
“Yeah… Alright, Zack. See ya later.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone and laid back on my pillow. I really had no reason to surpRise her like I planned to do, but she was my friend, and I liked to surprise her. So I had it all planned in my head to wait a couple of hours, get dressed again, and drive over to Rachel’s to surprise her. It sounded like a sound plan.
5:30 came. It was as good a time as any, I thought. I pulled back on my pants, having changed into gym shorts for around-the-house comfort, and straightened my hair. Then I grabbed my keys, wallet, and cell phone and left the house. As I pulled up to Rachel’s door, I noticed that her mother’s white Suburban wasn’t there. If she was fixing spaghetti, wouldn’t she kind of need to BE There? I shrugged off the thought, assuming that she would be returning shortly, and parked.
I usually didn’t knock. Rachel and I were really close, so knocking wasn’t necessary. I opened the door and looked inside. Her kitchen, where a pot of spaghetti was supposed to be cooking, was completely clean and bare. There was no sign of Rachel’s mother or a pot of spaghetti. This struck me as very odd.
I walked into the living room, searching for Rachel or her mother, and, finding no one, decided to check upstairs in Rachel’s bedroom. I walked slowly up the stairs, admiring a number of photographs of an eight-year-old, ten-year-old, and twelve-year-old Rachel. Suddenly, I heard something. It sounded almost like… breathing. There was a giggle. More breathing. A moan? What in the world was she… My heart skipped.
I crept slowly down the hall to Rachel’s bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. A small beam of light shone from the crack and provided me with a clean line of sight into her room. I leaned close, thankful that her floorboards didn’t creak. As my eyes adjusted from the dark of her hallway to the light of her room, I found myself short of breath. I struggled to stay calm and quiet.
Laying spread-eagled on her bed, her head back and her mouth open in a silent moan, was Rachel. The cause of her pleasure took the form of none other than Ashley Harris. Kneeling between Rachel’s bare, slender legs, Ashley had her face buried completely in Rachel’s crotch. Soft sucking and slurping sounds reached my ears from inside the room, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A chill ran down my body to my own crotch where, inevitably, I felt my cock twitch in response. Subconsciously, my hand snaked its way down to my steady swelling package as I continued to gaze in awe at the scene before me.
Rachel arched her back and gasped for breath as Ashley feasted herself upon the pussy before her. She expertly maneuvered her tongue over and around the outside of Rachel’s pussy lips, sing contentedly as she did so. Rachel moaned and while for more, grabbing her small tits firmly and squeezed them in her ecstasy. Unfortunately, all I could see of Ashley was her clothed back and her dark brown hair, which fell messily around her shoulders as she twistedto and fro between Rachel’s legs.
I couldn’t help myself any longer. Although my better judgment, I slowly unzipped my pants, and freed my swollen cock from its denim prison with a trembling hand. My fingers felt cool and rough against the hot, smooth skin of my member. I seized it firmly, squeezing and twisting a bit, and began to pump my hand up and down the shake, thumbing the head gently. The result was instantaneous. I felt a tidal wave of intense erotic relief wash over me. It was amazing how quickly my cock had stood and how incredibly hard it was. But how long had I been standing there watching?
Suddenly, Ashley stood up from her knees. She wiped Rachel’s juices from her mouth and apparently smiled because Rachel smiled back with a sexy, relieved grin. Then, Ashley climbed on the bed, baring her plump, round ass to me as it strained against her unnecessarily tight jeans. She straddled Rachel dominantly, running her hands up her sides and replacing Rachel’s hands with her own on her perky boobs.
From my position outside the door, I was going crazy. My hand jerked faster and faster. I heard a button pop and then watched anxiously as Rachel seized Ashley’s belt loops and pulled her pants slowly down. The tension of the pants drug her panties, which were a silky pink with black lace trim, down as well. The effect was immediately. As inch after inch of her perfectly sculpted ass cheeks were revealed, I felt my cock swell to its burning point within my firm grip. Oblivious to the exposed silence around me, I continued to pump my cock a bit harder and, reaching my climax, grunted softly as four full jets of cum squirted out of my dark red member.
Ashley and Rachel stopped moving and looked in unison towards the crack in the door where I stood watching.
“What was that,” Ashley asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know. Mom wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour!” Rachel, also breathless, sounded scared. She slowly got up from the bed, wrapping a blanket around her, and walked slowly towards the door. Just outside it, I leaned in relief against the wall, somehow still unaware that I had been heard. Suddenly, to me at least, the door burst open and there stood Rachel.
She held the blanket just high enough to cover her small, pink nipples, which were quite hard in her arousal. Up close, I could see that her face was flushed and her hair was wildly tossed about her face and shoulders. I couldn’t believe it. Rachel, the little girl I had grown up and been best friends with was standing ass-naked in front of me looking, if I allowed myself to consider it, sexy. Amazingly so. For a moment, as she stood there breathing heavily and taking in the fact that her best guy friend had just blown his man juice all over her hallway wall, I thought back over all the countless times that we had been alone together, ever horny at times, yet we had never once considered sex as an option, at least not openly.
She cleared her throat and brought me back to the present. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I had been caught red handed… so to speak. As I frantically attempted to stuff my semi-rigid member back in my pants, she did something that I did not at all expect. She laughed. It was a cute little girl giggle that made my crotch ripple with an indication that I had not been altogether drained by my hallway escapade.
“And just what the hell do you think you’re doing in my house, little boy?” she asked in what was probably the sexiest voice I’d ever heard. And “little boy?” Why the fuck did I find that so erotic? “It’s not nice to spy, you know.” I knew I was in for it, but I had a strange feeling about the way she was scolding me. What had I gotten myself into?
So, what do you think? More? How is it? Feedback, people. Please.
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