Kathy was never fond of riding the train. It was something that she had to do sometimes. Riding the train alone was often a source of dread in the tall, gawky, redhead virgin. At 5' 11", Kathy was the tallest girl in her class.
At 120 lbs, she felt she was a little slender to be attractive. Her flat chest caused her no end of embarrassment in the shower after gym classes. Kathy felt that the other girls were snickering behind her back about her boyish figure. Even guys didn't pay her much attention, hence her ongoing virginity at 18. Well, technically, she wasn't a virgin. She has long since gotten rid of the proof with regular use of her trusty hairbrush's handle.
Kathy was riding the train home alone this afternoon because she was late leaving school. Usually her friends, Becky and Natasha would ride with her and give her a feeling of safety. Today she was by herself. She felt a little vulnerable on the crowded train heading east.
She placed her big backpack on the floor between her legs. It had all the books for the new term inside of it. Kathy gripped the rubber handle coming down from the train's ceiling with both hands to keep her balance in the fast moving, swaying train. Falling down was not an option; she couldn't handle the embarrassment. But it wasn't a big fear as the train's passengers were jammed in really tight against each other.
The cool air from a floor vent in front of her felt nice between her legs; it kept the stickiness to a minimum and it made her feel fresh. She had her legs spread apart with the bag between her ankles. The naÃ¯ve schoolgirl didn't realize what a ridiculously inviting target her spread legs and short skirt made. She was an easy target for any one of the many train perverts that preyed on any meek female with an accessible bottom.
The morning after she sold her graphics design business for a sum large enough that she could comfortably retire, Francesca Weaver looked at herself naked in the mirror and considered what she wanted to do with herself, and her life. She was forty-two, married but childless, and she and her husband Edward led mostly separate lives. Her looks were undiminished, and though she had never been conventionally beautiful, she knew she was sexually attractive, with high cheekbones and an aquiline, regal profile. In her stocking feet she stood nearly six feet, with long light-brown hair she usually pulled back into a patrician ponytail. Her 34C breasts and her ass might have sagged a little, but only a little, and her exercise regimen kept them in shape.
In her youth Francesca might have been considered a little on the scrawny side, but she was now merely slim. Oh, her youth, she thought. Her wild, lusty youth.
She raised her arms above her head lazily, and admired her smooth, sleek body. After years of shaving and waxing, she had indulged in laser treatments that gave her a form utterly free of body hair: not under her arms, nor on her legs, nor on or around her delectable pussy and ass.
She liked what she saw. And she was determined that many others would see it, and like it, and enjoy it also.
Jonelle sat in the dark, staring at the images flashing on her computer screen. Her finger was busy attacking her erect clit while her eyes focused on the large black cock impaling the thin white girl as he thrust deep inside her hairless pussy.
A push of the mouse and another image jumped to the screen, this one of another white girl, but this time sucking on the knob of a huge ebony cock. The girl in the picture was very young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, but the look on her face was that of absolute satisfaction and submission.
Then her eyes were focused upward, looking directly at the face of the black man who was feeding the girl his erection. Jonelle's cunt contracted, the first sign of the deep orgasm that shook her body. Her finger flew over her clit, occasionally dipping into her hole to get lubrication for her hot little nub.
I've been married to my wife for a few years and we had a boy. Krista, our latest babysitter was a cute sixteen year-old girl from down the street. She lived about four or five blocks away.
She took to coming to our house after school to play with our son, and to help my wife. When I would get home from work, usually at about 5PM, Krista would go home to eat dinner.
We didn't use Krista too often for formal baby sitting, since we didn't have a lot of money, and couldn't go out too often. She was a god-send on those rare occasions when we did go out.
After a couple of weeks of dropping in, I became aware that Krista didn't rush out when I got home, as she had at first, and my wife did ask her to stay to dinner several times. Even then, she was great, as she helped with the dishes, while I went in and played with the baby.
"Can I come in for a while?"
The girl from across the street asked when I opened the door.
I lived in a small single house in a cheap neighbourhood that was full of new families and single parent homes. Across the street there was a row of attached townhouses that stretched nearly thirty units in one block.
Living with her single mother, she was about sixteen at the time and she was locked out of her house when she came home from school.
I had answered the doorbell and there she stood wearing her very alluring catholic school uniform (white blouse and too-short plaid skirt) and carrying an armful of books. She told me that her mom was at work and no one else was at home and she had forgotten her keys.
I was twenty-nine and single at the time. I was working as a night manager at the local cable company and had just gotten out of bed. I answered the door with nothing more than a bathrobe on.
I let her in and told her to have a seat, watch some TV and offered her a soda. I couldn't get over how hot she looked -- long brown hair down her back, big blue eyes, a really cute smile and flawless white skin. She had a very womanly body with ample curves everywhere. Nowhere near fat; just a fully formed young woman's body. She will be a heart breaker for sure.
It was my eighteenth birthday and here I sat twiddling my thumbs, I should have been having a party, but mum couldn't afford it. I should have been going out, but I couldn't afford it. My not so little sister and mum had vanished into the kitchen nearly an hour before to cook up a birthday surprise, but I felt so frustrated that I was not looking forward to it. Things had gone downhill, money-wise, since dad had walked out six months ago, he'd been in touch just once since he'd left and that had been to pick up some things he had forgotten to take. I suppose that his forgetting my birthday didn't help my mood any either.
Mind you I couldn't blame mum for his departure, in any man's book she was a looker even at forty. Why dad left was known only to him and he wasn't about to talk. My sister, who was a year younger than me, was a younger version of mum, maybe not quite so pretty, but still pleasant to look at. I was a little surprised at the tone of my thoughts towards my mother and sister and could only put it down to the fact that my girlfriend Dawn had not only refused my advances over the past few weeks, but also had finally given me the elbow the night before.
"Happy birthday Mark." My mother's voice said from the living room doorway.
I had regretted agreeing to help my older sister out, but a promise was a promise so here was stuck in her living room being stared at by her two sons while she flustered about the room.
"I've left the number where I can be reached by the phone," Maud said for the umpteenth time "there's plenty of food in the..."
"Look Maud," I sighed in exasperation "you've been through this a hundred times already, you will only be gone a week, what the hell can happen in a week?"
Half an hour later Maud finally left the house while her boys, Tom and Clive grinned at each other. I must admit that I had no great liking for kids which was probably why I was still single at twenty-eight, unlike Maud who had wed at seventeen, had her first kid at eighteen and her second at nineteen. She'd still be having them if it hadn't been for the fact that her husband had decided two was enough and gone and got himself doctored. So there I was, stuck for a whole week with two boys, one fifteen years old the other fourteen, who seemed to do nothing but stare at me.
"What?" I asked angrily.
"Your pretty aunt Glenda." Tom smiled in reply.
His response rather took the wind from me, my anger faded and I felt a little flattered to think that the boys found me attractive, even if I do say it myself I have a good body and a face that men find appealing.
"Uh, thank you Tom." I muttered at last.