R Finch - No longer virgin

"I don't think…"

"Don't be silly. I told you no one would come in here. Now, give me your panties."

Wendy awkwardly pulled her underwear down, stepped out of them. She handed them to Miss Westoff, stood only in her blouse, knee-socks, and shoes. She waited while Miss Westoff washed out her skirt and panties in the small basin.

"Don't be embarrassed, dear," the woman said. "These will be dry in just a little while."

She finished, hung the wet garments carefully over the heat register. She turned to Wendy.

"You have such an attractive shape, dear," she said. "Such a cute bottom." And she patted it lightly.

Wendy jumped slightly.

"Take this, then," Miss Westoff laughed, found a small, white face-towel under the sink, handed it to her. "This should help, seeing as you're shy."

Wendy wrapped the towel around her hips, found it covered very little.

Miss Westoff led her back into the office.

"Relax, dear. I told you no one would come in here. Come on, sit right back down and we'll finish our little chat."

Miss Westoff said, "Now, of course, you know that your parents will have to be told about what happened here today."

"Do they have to know?" she almost cried, with a start realized she hadn't considered their reaction at all. The thought terrified her.

"Well, of course, dear. My responsibility is to them, also. We can't very well just forget about what happened today, now can we?"

Wendy thought she would cry again. It wasn't that either of her parents would strike her, for she knew they wouldn't. Her mother, in fact, a frail, skinny woman with virtually no shape at all, would become almost hysterical at the thought of Wendy's father putting his hands on Wendy in any way whatsoever.

But this, she thought, this latest would surely push Wendy from her parent's realm altogether. She wasn't sure she could face that. Not yet, at least.

Miss Westoff said, "Wendy, we all have to deal with unpleasantness occasionally. You're a big girl now. It's time you learned to handle these difficult situations."

"I suppose you're right," Wendy had to agree.

Miss Westoff put her hand on Wendy's bare thigh, squeezed lightly.

"It'll all work out for the best," she soothed. "You'll see."

She had not yet removed her hand, inched it slowly upwards. Wendy said nothing, was unsure how to react. She sat stiffly, watched as the other woman's hand crept under the towel, touched between her legs.

"Just relax, dear," Miss Westoff said, put her arm around Wendy's shoulders, hugged her gently.

"Miss Westoff, I…" Wendy started shakily, stopped abruptly when she felt the woman's fingers expertly separate her moist labia, move wetly to the small point of her sensitivity.

Wendy shivered involuntarily, felt her muscles tense. She couldn't believe what was happening, sat dumbly while Miss Westoff began slowly to manipulate her.

"Miss Westoff…"

"Call me Christine, dear. I want you to think of me as your friend. A very close friend."

"Christine."

"Now, hush, dear. Don't worry your prettyhead about a thing. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps your parents won't have to be told. After all, what purpose would it serve? Why should you go through the humiliation? To needlessly embarrass you seems so senseless."

She knelt on the carpet, gently nudged Wendy's knees apart, managed to get between them. She raised slightly, Wendy's legs over her shoulders, put her hands around Wendy's bare bottom, pulled her to the edge of the chair. The towel slid to the floor.

Christine kissed in wet circles along one damp inner thigh, licked at the smooth hollow where it joined Wendy's hip. She pulled Wendy yet closer to her, finally crushed her mouth against Wendy's slick warmth.

Wendy squirmed her round bottom with a little moan, watched as if it was someone else this happened to, as if she had no part in it at all. The sensations Christine Westoff's flicking tongue sent through her stunned her, were more wildly pleasurable than anything she could ever imagine. She made a token attempt at resistance, tried to ignore the exquisite tremors racing through her, could not. She closed her eyes tightly, gripped the arms of the chair. She could not stop squirming.

She was startled when she felt something poke gently at the circle of her anus, tensed when she felt Christine Westoff work a finger slowly up into her tight rectum. She wanted to cry out, did not want it to go this far, could not believe she was letting it all happen to her. She eased her head back, gulped air hungrily. It was all so unreal!

Christine worked her tongue with a frenzy at the fleshy covering of Wendy's pulsing clitoris, darted moistly across it, under it, twitched at the distended stub itself. She sucked at it with her lips.

She had one finger completely up Wendy's throbbing rectum, tried to work still another into the small opening.

Wendy cried out with a choked little whimper, squirmed, twisted her damp buttocks up out of the chair, strained until her sleek muscles ached. She hurtled to her orgasm, shuddered with a low, groaning wail.

"Oh, God!" she moaned raggedly, thrashed wildly, was crushed flat by the incredible intensity of the impact, jarred to the brink of insensibility.

She slid from the chair, hit her head on the edge of it, but barely noticed. Christine Westoff followed her movement, kept at her, still sucked at her feverishly. Wendy sprawled on the carpet, threw her arms over her face. She groaned, twisted slowly, could not escape the woman.

"I can't…" Wendy gasped brokenly. "Please…"

"Once again," Christine whispered hoarsely, was now beside her.

She pushed Wendy's blouse up out of the way, squeezed at her firm breasts, held them as she kissed them. She licked at the full underside of one, traced her tongue lightly across Wendy's flat stomach, down across her groin, arrived again at her cunt.

Christine worked at it from the top this time, her mouth flush against the plump mound, her hands under Wendy's hips, cupping her warm buttocks. She held Wendy to her, moved forward, flicked with her tongue at the rubbery cheeks of Wendy's behind. She spread them with her fingers, probed with her tongue-tip, entered the young girl's puckered anal perforation, licked at it. Wendy dug her heels into the carpet, arching her back with a half-suppressed moan, spread her knees involuntarily.

Christine lapped across the small, tight muscle that separated Wendy's anus and vagina, sucked wetly at the glistening erect finger of the girl's trembling clit. She pushed two fingers into the swollen opening, another into Wendy's bottom, began moving her hand in short, jerky thrusts.

Wendy ground her damp buttocks against the carpet, strained to spread her round thighs still wider, could think only of the immense relief Christine again hurried her to. She stretched her legs taut, felt her toes spread slowly apart, was battered by the groaning spasms that wracked her slender body into clenched knots of flesh and pounded the breath out of her.

Christine Westoff stood slowly, reached up under her dress and pulled down her pantyhose and underwear. She left them dangling around one foot, moved to Wendy. She stood almost directly over her.

Wendy froze inside. From where she lay looking up, she could see the thick patch of dark hair between the woman's full thighs, could see the deep pink slash of Christine's thick labia peeking from within. Wendy started slightly. If Christine Westoff thought Wendy would perform similarly on her, she was more than a little mistaken. Wendy began to get up.

"Relax, dear," Christine said huskily, crawled right on top of Wendy. "Just lay still. I have to rub my cunt against your leg a bit. Otherwise, I won't be able to think straight this afternoon." She giggled.

Christine lay slightly off to one side, pulled her dress up in front, pushed it out of tile way. She smiled at Wendy's expression. "This won't take a minute," she said. "Raise your knee up a little, will you, baby?"