Schoolgirl at the Bus Stop

Spring finally arrived, and I was psyched to be heading out to a new job
site to build a shopping center from the ground up. After being laid off
all winter, I felt great to be up and moving again, eager to earn my
paycheck with hard work.

As I made my way to my new job location, I happened to stop at an
intersection in one of the small towns in the area. As I made a right turn
at the stop sign, I noticed a lone schoolgirl standing at her bus stop
across the street. Her blue plaid school uniform caught my eye. It looked
familiar, not that I had been anywhere near a school uniform in many years.
But I also noted that it seemed like she was out there awfully early in the
morning.

The next day, I saw her again. In the few seconds it took me to stop,
look for traffic, and make my turn, I was struck by her long dark hair and
her tall slender frame. I noticed that she stood waiting for her bus with
her heels touching, like she was standing at attention. She had a pretty
face, which I was aware of because she looked right at me.

Each day that passed was more interesting than the last one. I started
anticipating our brief encounters, and I looked forward to discovering
something new about her every time. After a couple of weeks, we were
making easy eye contact, along with exchanging modest smiles. Finally, one
day I took a huge risk and waved to her as I made my right turn. She
looked away immediately, and I felt bad for overstepping the imaginary line
of proper decorum. I dialed it back from there for several days, until she
was again meeting my eye contact, and even smiling again, although she made
sure to look down as she did so.

I was pleased that I was able to get back on her good side, as I didn’t
want her to be upset with me in any way. I was getting more at ease with
our platonic exchanges and it felt like she was too. I remember it was a
Friday morning, and I was feeling particularly feisty, anticipating the
weekend off. I made my right turn especially slowly that day, and when she
held her eye contact for that extra second, I allowed myself a very
innocent wave, and much to my delight, she smiled back at me.

It turned out to be a huge breakthrough for us. Come Monday, I felt
emboldened enough to wave to her more directly, and her smile turned into a
big grin, and if I’m not mistaken, I could see some crimson in her cheeks.
By midweek she was returning my waves, tentatively at first but more open
and courageous as each day passed. Our mutual exchanges became rather
routine; enough so that I started to wonder about her: why was she out
there so early in the morning when school didn’t start for two more hours?
And why was she the only student waiting for the bus? I doubted I would
ever get an explanation.

As the days grew warmer, she stood out there wearing just her uniform,
with her back pack full of books slung over her shoulders. I was able to
take note of her still developing body: shapely but not very curvy yet,
with a modest bosom and a skinny waist that accentuated her young hips;
long legs and perfect posture. I felt like I was falling in love with her,
even though I only saw her for just a few seconds each day. Somehow,
through repetition or habit, we had forged a unique connection with each
other, silently and against all odds. Never mind that I was happily
married, and about a hundred years older than her! Of course, I never
thought anything would come of it: she was just an interesting diversion
that I enjoyed on my way to work every day. And then it happened:

It was midweek, nothing special going on, and I was headed for work as
usual. As I approached my favorite intersection, out of nowhere the skies
opened up and heavy spring rain poured down. I could barely see my
schoolgirl friend as I pulled up to the stop sign. Sure enough, there she
stood straight and tall, holding her back pack steadily on top of her head;
her only protection from the torrential downpour. Instinctively, instead
of turning right as usual, I turned left and stopped right in front of her.
I reached over and swung the passenger door open:

“Hop in!” I yelled to her, and she did just that without hesitation,
quickly shutting the door behind her. I passed her a towel before driving
away down the road. I had no idea what made me act so spontaneously, nor
did I have a plan of any kind. But she didn’t seem the least bit worried
about it, so I just kept driving.

“Wow! That was really something!” I remarked about the sudden rain
storm.

“Yeah!” she replied. I had to think fast:

“There’s a blanket in the back seat if you want to wrap up in it,” I
offered.

“Thanks!” she said, as she turned and gathered it up, wrapping it around
her shivering body. There was an awkward silence that came over us, and I
was desperate to fill the void.

“So, what’s your name?” It wasn’t a very original line, I’ll admit, I’d
been dying to know her name, so I went with it.

“Jennifer,” she answered, as she continued to towel-dry her hair.

“That’s a beautiful name. Hi Jennifer, I’m Bill,” I offered in return.

“Hi Bill, nice to meet you,” she replied courteously.

“Actually, most people call me Billy,” I added for some unknown reason,
other than the fact that I was nervous as hell. She just chuckled.

“Well then, hello Billy!” she responded cheerfully, “most people call me
Jennifer,” she shot back cleverly, and we both laughed in unison. Her
witty comeback really helped to break the ice between us, and I could have
just kissed her for making it happen. Little did I know…

“And thanks for rescuing me back there!” she added.

I nodded my acknowledgement, as a thousand things were running through
my head all at once, yet I couldn’t think of anything reasonable to
say…oh, finally:

“So, where do you go to school, Jennifer?” I asked, relieved that
something normal came out of my mouth.

“St. Mary’s.”

Ah, yes, now I remembered where I’d seen those uniforms before: St.
Mary of the Angels. It was a private all-girl Academy that catered to
well-to-do, conservative, religious families.

“Oh, so you’re an ‘Angel’ are you?” I smiled over at her.

“Yes! Well, no, not really,” she laughed.

So that answered my question of why she was outside waiting for her bus
so early in the morning. There was only one bus for our entire area that
serviced St. Mary’s, and it took forever to weave in and out of all the
small towns, picking up a few students here and there along the way.

“Well I know where your school is. I’ll be happy to drive you there if
you want,” I offered. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while I
silently panicked inside; afraid I had gone too far.

“Thanks, Billy, but what about your job? And …I’m completely soaked
through,” she said as she pointed both hands down at her drenched uniform.

“Don’t worry about me,” I was quick to reply, “I won’t be working today.
The job site will be underwater after this much rain. There’s a coffee
shop just ahead. We could stop and pick up some hot coffee to warm you
up,” I offered.

She stared at the floor and remained silent for what seemed like
forever. Once again I despaired at the thought of crossing the line of
decency. I was certain I blew it this time. Finally she spoke:

“I don’t really like coffee.”

I was so relieved, I had to take a breath and calm down before I
responded.

“Well, they have tea and hot chocolate too,” I offered as smoothly as I
could.

“Hot chocolate! Oh Good!” she blurted out immediately, so we continued
down the road, each of us lost in our own thoughts. For some reason I
decided it was a time to deliver a short sermon:

“You know, you shouldn’t have gotten into my van back there.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You don’t even know me,” I admonished her.

“It’s weird, I know, Billy, but I feel like we’ve known each other for a
long time now,” she explained weakly, “and then there was that downpour.”

It was music to my ears, because I felt the same way about her. It was
nice to know she felt a connection with me too.

I pulled into the strip store parking lot and parked in front of the
coffee shop. Excitedly, she turned and pointed at a store further down the
row of stores.

“Look Billy! A laundromat! Can we drive down there and dry my clothes
first?”

Wow, I thought, how lucky were we?

“Sure, Jennifer,” I answered coolly, trying not to act too elated. I
drove down past the few stores to the laundromat. I parked a few rows
back, even though the parking lot was just about empty. She didn’t seem to
notice. I turned towards her and told her I would take her clothes in and
throw them in the dryer for her.

“If you want, you can sit in the back seat and I will hold up the
blanket for you while you take off your wet things and roll your clothes up
in the towel. And then, I’ll run them inside while you wrap up in the
blanket. Then we’ll get those hot drinks,” I suggested. Apparently she
couldn’t think of a better idea, so she just shrugged, passed me the
blanket, and made her way to the back seat.

Being the gentleman that I am, I held the blanket up while she peeled
her wet clothes off, with some effort. But even though I didn’t peek, I
imagined her stripping off each piece of her uniform, one by one. I fully
expected she would keep her bra and panties on. When she finished wrapping
everything up in the towel, she took the blanket from me and passed me the
towel full of clothes, and off I went; a handful of change in my hand.

No one was in the laundromat at that time of day, and it gave me the
chance to delight over each article of clothing I put into the dryer: her
blue plaid pleated skirt, white blouse, white knee socks and blue blazer
with the matching little tie…and then I came to her lacy white bra and
matching panties. A hot flash of electricity ran up my spine as I fondled
her delicate underthings with my rough fingers. Her bra was indeed soaked
from the rain, but her lacy little panties were completely dry: well, not
completely; they were dry all except for a noticeably damp area in the
crotch. I didn’t have the nerve to sniff them lest she may be watching.
But I did feel a tingling between my legs just from the feel of them.

As I trotted down to the coffee shop, dodging raindrops, I couldn’t help
speculating about her decision to take her panties off and give them to me
to put in the dryer. Maybe it was totally innocent on her part: they were
damp, for whatever reason, and she wanted them dried. Or maybe she wasn’t
so innocent at all: she did say ‘Not Really’ when I asked her if she was an
Angel…the thought got my loins heated up in no time, and I couldn’t wait
to get out of the shop. I grabbed our drinks and a couple of muffins and
quickly headed back to my van, having some difficulty walking fast without
bringing attention to my erection.

I opened my door to find her still in the back seat, sitting upright and
rather rigidly. She leaned forward to accept the bag from me,
strategically keeping the blanket wrapped snugly around her body by tucking
it under both arms. We settled in with our drinks and muffins. I stayed
in the driver’s seat, but I turned sideways so we could continue to talk
and make eye contact. Just being in her presence and knowing she was
totally naked under my blanket was enough to sustain my erection, as if I
was a high school boy again. Unfortunately, or perhaps ‘fortunately’ she
had a side view of me, and I wasn’t exactly hiding my hard-on as it
strained against my work pants. I scrambled to divert her attention:

“So, Jennifer, tell me a little bit about yourself,” I asked, “how do
you like St. Mary’s?” She just shrugged her shoulders rather
unenthusiastically.

“It’s alright, I guess. It’s a good school, but it wasn’t really my
choice. My mom insisted I go there,” she lamented, “she didn’t want me to
be around boys.”

“Wow, that’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?” I wondered aloud. I took notice
that she seemed to be staring at my protruding bulge as she spoke.

“Yeah, well, it’s a long story…” her voice faded away. I looked at my
watch. It was still just a few minutes before seven.

“Go ahead, we’ve got time,” I urged casually, even as she continued to
focus on my tented pants. I laughed to myself as I now realized how crass
it was for men to objectify women by staring at their big breasts without
bothering to make eye contact. But I didn’t dare say anything: it wasn’t
every day that I felt objectified. I figured I might make an exception
just this once. (Okay, I will admit, I kind of liked it!)

“Okay, well, my dad left us a long time ago. I was only two, so I
barely remember him, but my mom took it really hard. He left us with
nothing and he never looked back. Mom had to scramble to make ends meet.
She took two jobs to pay our bills, and she never forgave him. She also
never trusted another man again, and so that’s why she sent me to St.
Mary’s. It’s her way of protecting me from the pain and anguish she went
through.”

For the first time, I saw Jennifer slink into her seat and allow her
shoulders to slump down in sadness. But only for a short minute, then she
sat back up straight, regaining her proper posture once again. I noticed
that she had averted her eyes towards the floor and neglected to stare at
my glorious manhood. Now it was I who fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat.

“I’m…sorry, Jennifer,” I said sincerely.

“Oh, it’s okay, Billy, really. I get good grades, I play soccer and
volleyball, and I have made some good friends at St. Mary’s,” she assured
me, “I’m not completely naive. We have a lot of slumber parties, and we
talk about boys and sex and stuff.”

My perverted mind began to picture various scenarios involving young
ladies lying about in their PJ’s or nighties, giggling and gossiping about
boys, and maybe experimenting with each other. As if she read my mind,
Jennifer shocked me with her next statement:

“I do like playing around with my girlfriends, don’t get me wrong, it’s
just that…it seems unnatural not to have any contact with boys at all!
We are all obsessed about boys.”

Once again, I could tell that she was back to staring at my stiffy,
which I no longer made any effort to hide. As if on cue, she blurted out:

“I’ve never even seen a real penis,” she uttered matter-of-factly.

I felt like I was receiving the most blatant message ever. It made me
shudder with pure delight and a sense of dread all at once. I was
speechless. I couldn’t be sure if she was just being open with me, or if I
should take the hint personally. Surely she wasn’t leading me on: I was
probably older than her father, or even her grandfather, for that matter! I
didn’t know how to respond. I just sat there and pretended I didn’t hear
what she had just said. Sure enough, she managed to pick up the proverbial
ball and run with it:

“Will you show me yours, Billy?”

I was stunned! I felt all jittery inside, like we were getting ready to
play “Doctor”, like little ones do. It was a classic ‘I’ll show you mine
if you show me yours’ scenario…except that it wasn’t: Jennifer and I were
far from equals: this was serious business, and I approached it as such.

“Well, Jennifer, I’m flattered, first off. But your, shall we say,
‘interest’ or ‘curiosity’ could have grave consequences for me. I could
get into serious trouble, I’m sure you know that: Abuse! Sexual assault!
The wrath of your mother! Prison!”

“I know, I know! I get it! But I would never say anything to anybody,
Billy. Honest! Not even to my friends! It’s just that…well…I trust
you. And I know you wouldn’t hurt me. And I really don’t know any guys
that I could ask. Okay, I really don’t know any guys, period!”

I sat stiffly (pardon the pun), and I thought about what she said. And
then I resorted to the old tried-and-true test, with a bit of extra flair:

“Well, if I agreed to your request, I think it only fair that you
reciprocate,” I posed rather vaguely for her consideration. She jumped
right on it:

“Oh, so your mean I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” She asked. I
smiled and nodded; surprised that she used the exact same line that had
just gone through my mind.

“Okay then, Billy, what do you have in mind?” she challenged.

I was silently beside myself at this point. Things were getting
complicated. I pictured myself trying to explain to the cop who would end
up tapping on my window right here in the parking lot; to her mother down
at the police station; to my wife who would reluctantly come down and post
bail for me; to the judge…but then I looked into her eyes and I saw how
beautiful she was, blanket and all. I was completely infatuated with her,
and it felt like we had a real connection between us. It was something
that had started out as weeks of chance encounters, seeing each other only
seconds per day, and now here we were just inches apart. Talking about
sex. Between us. With each other…

“I think it would be a gesture of good will to open the blanket,” I said
calmly. She blushed right away, but her smile was broad. She released the
blanket from under both arms and slowly unwrapped it. I fully expected her
to flash me quickly and close it back up again. Instead, she opened it
wide and let it drop off her bare shoulders, exposing her perky breasts and
hard nipples in all their youthful glory. She opened the blanket right
down to the floor. She kept her legs closed, which was fine. But I
admired her for exposing so much of her firm, lithe body to my grateful
eyes. She really did look like an angel; the blanket acting as her angel
wings. I took a deep breath and exhaled. A deal was a deal. I turned
towards her and reached for my zipper.

“No wait! Can I do it?” she asked, as she slid over on the back seat
and patted the seat next to her. I moved to the back and sat within inches
of her flawless body. I could swear there was steam coming from it since
she had unwrapped the blanket.

I shivered in anticipation. I had wanted to reach out and squeeze her
budding tits, but I held back and let her lead. I pulled my hand back from
my pants and she leaned in closer. I detected some shakiness in her hands
as she fumbled with my zipper. I was afraid I would shoot my load even
before my cock saw the light of day.

“Wow,” she said as she threaded my shaft through my boxers, past my fly,
and out into the open: “It’s so big!”

Bless her heart, I thought. But knowing that she had never seen one
before reminded me that she really had no frame of reference. Still, I
remained silent. Why burst her bubble? And then she delivered another
shocker as she began to inspect the shaft, and run her fingertip around my
pre-cum covered cock head:

“Well, to be honest, me and my girlfriends have seen some in porn
videos, so I know there are bigger ones out there: especially some of those
huge black ones! But yours is…well…a real handful!”

By now, I was barely listening to her as I concentrated on the exquisite
touch of her delicate fingers encircling my shaft and gently pumping it,
seemingly absentmindedly. No sooner did I sit back and revel in my great
good fortune, than she quickly pulled her hand away as if she received an
electric shock:

“Sorry Billy! I guess it’s your turn now!” She shifted her legs around
towards me so she was facing me. She presented her proud breasts to me
like the fine gifts they were.

“Go ahead and touch them if you want!” she said softly and seductively.
Oh, I ‘wanted’ all right! But my guilty conscience kept reminding how
wrong and dangerous the situation was. I felt obligated to try preaching
another hollow sermon:

“Well, you know, Jennifer…” I began, but she would have none of it.

“Look it, Billy, would you just stop? Can’t you see that you are
helping out a girl who is asking you to? Okay, maybe I’m not an angel, but
I’m not a slut either. I’m actually a pretty good person who would really
appreciate some cooperation and guidance from you. Is that asking too
much? We don’t have a lot of time, so could we just enjoy the few moments
that we have together?”

My first thought was that her sermons were much better than mine. My
second thought just vanished when she took my hands and placed them on her
warm, firm tits. Oh my, they felt so…new, and…I don’t know…perfect!
I gave them a gentle squeeze and then I immediately took her hard nipples
between my thumbs and index fingers and played with them until she was
sighing audibly, with her chest heaving in unison. I leaned closer and
took each one in my mouth, licking and sucking, and feeling like a teenager
on my first journey into the world of earthly pleasures.

Her strong grip on my head told me I must have been doing okay, but then
she pushed my head away, and I looked up at her inquisitively. She leaned
towards me and our lips met, almost violently. I could barely breathe as
she nearly destroyed my mouth with hers. Her lips were on fire, and her
tongue knew exactly what to do. I could only imagine what kind of slumber
party action she had experienced!

“Fuck me, Billy…please fuck me!” she pleaded in such a sexy whisper
that I almost came right there. I knew there was no turning back now.

“Let’s get in the back,” I suggested, and I led the way. The back of my
van wasn’t particularly clean, but it was mostly empty except for my bag of
tools and a few odd cushions. I arranged them hastily, and helped her to
spread the blanket out on top of the cushions. She lay down and I took my
position on top, starting with passionate kissing of her lips and face.
She sighed gratefully as I slowly worked my way down, nibbling on her ear
lobes, her smooth neck, and stopping at her quivering tits for a long
squeeze and tender sucking.

I felt pressure from her hands pushing down on my shoulders impatiently,
but I resisted the impulse to rush down her body without first paying
homage to her tight, flat belly and skinny waist, on my way down to her
round hips and long legs; touching and feeling and kissing my way, an inch
at a time. I knew she was getting impatient with my incessant teasing, but
making her wait was half the fun!

Finally, I reached the Promised Land, and my hot breath alone caused her
legs to open and welcome my tender kisses. I could sense her close cropped
landing strip leading the way to her most private and precious spot. Her
hands pressed against the back of my head while she simultaneously bent her
knees and pulled her legs back to her chest. Her sweet musky teenage aroma
enveloped my senses, and as if she knew what to expect, she quietly
cautioned me:

“Be gentle!”

It reminded me that this wasn’t her first encounter with oral sex; just
the first time with a male! As I kissed and probed and explored her tender
labia, my tongue located her swollen clitoris. I acknowledged its presence
with a few licks, but mostly I lingered around the outer regions as long as
I could manage to put up with the pain she inflicted with her anxious
fingers tangled up in my hair.

“Lick it! Flick it! Suck on my clit, PLEASE!” she exhorted
impatiently.

As I acceded to her demands, she pushed her pelvis up into my face for
emphasis. I could feel her tensing up, and I knew she was close, so I
caught her off guard and pushed her legs back even further, exposing her
pulsating rose bud. I slid my tongue down her slit and over her forbidden
entrance, causing her to gasp in surprise and grip my hair even tighter.
Undaunted, I proceeded to run my tongue up and down her entire exposed
charms, sucking her clit between my lips, sliding down and then penetrating
her tight anus with the tip of my tongue.

It only took a few similar applications before she was jerking and
moaning and erupting with such enthusiasm, I was afraid I might lose
patches of hair from my head. Finally, her body spasms subsided and she
fell limp, dropping her legs down on either side of me. I didn’t move,
choosing instead to rest my head on her belly until she could breathe
easily.

“That…that was…amazing, Billy,” she said softly. She couldn’t see
my face beaming, but I was elated to know she liked it. I was content to
just end it there, go get her clothes from the laundromat, and take her to
school. But she reminded me who was running the show:

“Are you going to fuck me now, Billy? I’m dying to know how it feels to
have a real man’s cock inside me,” she remarked, sounding more like that
slut then the angel she talked about earlier. Not surprisingly, my
erection hadn’t abandoned me. Silently, I crawled up on top of her.

“Uh, Billy, you don’t have a condom by any chance, do you? I mean, I’m
not on the pill or anything, you know?”

“Even better: I got snipped years ago,” I answered.

“Snipped?”

“Yes, Jennifer, I had a vasectomy. So, I can’t get you or anyone else
pregnant anymore,” I explained.

“Oh. Oh, good!” she blurted out once she understood. I proceeded to
move into position.

“No! Wait!”

Here we go, I thought, she’s getting cold feet…

“Can we do something else instead?” she asked. I was confused and a
little perturbed, and I guess it showed. Seeing the look on my face, she
laughed out loud, which didn’t exactly make me feel better.

“No, Billy, I mean can we try a different position? Like doggy style?”
she asked.

“Sure, Jennifer!” I replied as I moved back onto my knees so she could
get up. My cock stood straight out, and she noticed right away as she sat
up.

“Oh, but first can I make you wet?”

“Okay, but not too wet or else there won’t be anything else happening,”
I warned.

She got up on her knees and pushed me back until I had to put my hands
behind me to support my upper body, my manhood completely vulnerable. She
bent down and began slowly licking my shaft without touching it with her
hands. Such a fucking turn-on! I figured she must have spent a lot of
time studying those porn videos. Her full lips enveloped my cock head with
such grace and elegance; I thought I might explode at any second. But I
was so mesmerized, watching her gradually accept more of my shaft with each
sensuous head-bob, I willed myself to hold off as long as possible. Plus,
I had bigger fish to fry, if only I could summon up the willpower to stop
her before all hell broke loose.

Despite my determination, I couldn’t keep myself from grabbing her head
and pulling her face closer and closer to my crotch, until she gagged and
choked, and pulled back.

“Sorry!” I said, but I took it as a sign to move on with our plan: “Are
you ready?” Without hesitation, she spun around, got up on her knees, head
resting on her folded arms, with her beautiful shapely bottom pointing
toward the sky…well at least toward the roof of the van. It was such a
beautiful sight to behold, I just had to lean down and get a few licks in,
which she didn’t object to. I drenched her pussy to make entering her as
painless as possible, but then I concentrated on her exposed pucker: I just
couldn’t resist spreading her cheeks wide and twirling my tongue around her
most vulnerable and sensitive opening before plunging my stiff tongue deep
inside her steaming hot bottom; piercing her like a dagger to the heart.

She groaned and wiggled her ass as if to signal her approval, and I
tongue fucked her for several minutes, even as I could see her fingers
between her legs, frantically working over her clit at the same time.
Eventually, she reached back and pushed my head away as she reset herself:

“Fuck me now, Billy!”

This time it was more of a demand than a request. I moved in behind
her, holding her by her hips as she took control and guided me into her
virginal love passage. Surprisingly, I was able to penetrate her with no
problem and no sign of any discomfort from her. Perhaps sensing my
reaction, she looked back long enough to tell me that she has put ‘bunches’
of objects in her pussy. Okay, mystery solved, I thought.

“Now will you please pay attention, Billy?”

I picked up where my concentration faltered momentarily and began to
work up a fairly steady rhythm. She bucked against my thrusts in perfect
timing, and our pace quickened. I was happily surprised that I was able to
maintain my composure long enough to pound her pussy deeply and
relentlessly. I loved hearing her guttural moans coming from deep inside,
as I slipped my thumb into her well-lubricated dark passage. She picked up
the pace and pushed back against my thumb until it was buried inside her
with each new thrust. I was out of my mind with wanton lust by this point,
and I decided to press my luck: I pulled both my thumb and my cock out of
her and I attempted to slide my throbbing manhood into her well-gaped ass,
but she clenched up when she realized my intent:

“No, Billy, please?”

Immediately I re-entered her hot pussy and resumed slamming my pelvis
into her loins, fucking her as deeply as possible. She took it like a pro
and cheered me on. But my time was quickly running out, and I was on the
verge of climaxing:

“Get ready, here it comes!” I announced, but my reverie was interrupted
once again:

“No Billy!”

Okay, NOW what, I thought to myself.

“I want you to cum in my mouth! I want to taste it!” she pleaded,
almost in desperation.

I pulled out quickly, and she whipped around and took me in her mouth,
sucking frantically until I grunted incoherently and began pumping it full
of my hot sticky fluid. I fully expected her to gag and sputter and
generally make a mess, which would’ve been fine, believe me. But when I
finally spent my last drop and fell back onto my ankles, I was surprised to
look up and see her smiling face displaying no sign of what had just taken
place.

“Did you…did you swallow all that?” I had to ask. She just beamed and
nodded.

“I told you I wanted to taste it,” she reminded me. I was rather
dumbfounded, having not expected any of this. I wanted to follow up with
some witty remark, but apparently my cleverness was not available:

“So, how did it taste then?” was the best I could come up with.

“Interesting! Different! Not bad, really…I could get used to it!
But we’d better get going now,” she said rather sadly.

It was pushing 7:45, and even though her school was only ten minutes
away, we still had to retrieve her clothes and she had to get dressed.
School started at 8:30. As she wrapped back up in the blanket and located
her makeup kit, I grabbed a plastic bag and hustled to the laundromat.
There were a few people inside, but they were all involved with their cell
phones and paid me no mind. I roughly folded each piece of her clothes and
pushed them into the bag. The last thing in the dryer was her sexy little
panties which I slipped into my pants pocket before quickly making my way
back to the van.

I handed her the bag and she went right to work, getting dressed in the
back of the van. I sat up front and watched her sadly, as she covered up
her beautiful naked body, piece by piece. I knew our amazing little tryst
was over, and it made my heart heavy.

“Hey! Where’s my panties?”

“Oh, you want them too?” I asked, as innocently as possible.

“Yes, Billy,” she replied, smiling. I took them out of my pocket, and
offered them to her, dangling them off one finger and looking hurt.

“Unless you want them, Billy,” she offered, “I have plenty more at
home.”

Remembering my missed opportunity to sniff them while they were damp,
when I put her clothes in the dryer, I considered her offer.

“How about a compromise? You put them on now, but when you get to
school, take them off and let me keep them,” I suggested. I knew she was
plenty wet now, so I would have her fresh scent of sex on them to keep
forever. She grinned, obviously following my thought process, and slipped
them on, and we drove off. It was 8:00 on the dot.

Ten minutes later, we could see her school a few blocks down the main
street. But before we got closer, she half shocked me by grabbing my arm
and pointing to a side road:

“Turn here!” she almost yelled. There was nothing but a boarded up
convenience store there.

“Pull in the back!” she sounded frantic as she pointed towards the small
alley that led behind the store. The old store was surrounded by trees in
the back, and completely private. She reached for the key in the ignition,
and the van engine went silent. She grabbed my hand and told me to follow
her. She led me to the back of the van and quickly spread the blanket over
top of the cushions. She resumed her doggy position and pulled her skirt
up over her back, revealing her pretty little ass outlined by her tiny
panties.

“I want you to fuck my ass, Billy! I know, I know, but I’ve thought
about it and I really want it now,” she explained before I even got a
chance to say anything.

“I know this is the only chance we’ll ever get, and I don’t want to go
through life regretting that I didn’t try anal sex with you when I had the
chance,” she reasoned.

I couldn’t think of anything to say that would contradict her
conclusion. I was already hard again, just from hearing her talk about it.
I reached out and began sliding her panties down, but she stopped me”

“No! I want to keep them on. Just pull them aside and fuck me like
that,” she demanded, as she did the actual pulling aside of her panties and
then she presented me with her now willing ass.

Time was of the essence, opportunity was knocking, and several other
relevant but ridiculous adages bombarded my racing mind as I positioned
myself. Her pucker still glistened with my saliva, and I proceeded as
gently as the situation would allow. She sucked in a few gasps of air as I
slowly penetrated her from behind, but again, she yielded to the intrusion
rather easily, and I suppose she anticipated my surprised reaction once
again:

“Yes, I’ve put things in there too, if you must know!” she offered.

Well, I didn’t really have to know, but I was glad I did. Just the
image of such a sweet young angel experimenting with anal penetration got
me harder and more aroused. And now all that practice of hers was about to
pay off. In a relatively short time I was plunging as deeply as I could,
riding her ass like I was breaking a young pony. It was a wild ride at
that, made especially erotic because I could feel her knuckles between her
legs, working her clit through her now soaked panties.

“Oh god, I’m cumming!” she announced, and as if on cue, I followed close
behind, filling her ass with my spunk until I had nothing left to give.
When I pulled out, she quickly turned around and sat on the blanket. She
slipped her panties off and dangled them on one finger in front of my face.
I wonder where she saw that move before, I thought, laughing.

“Something to remember me by!” she declared, as she looked at her watch,
grabbed her back pack and headed out the side door. I grabbed her by the
arm just in time:

“Wait!”

She looked back and I wrapped my arms around her and we shared a long
kiss and a heartfelt embrace.

“Thanks, Jennifer.”

“No, thank YOU, Billy…and thank you for trusting me,” she replied
before bolting out the door.

“Gotta run! See you tomorrow at the bus stop!” she called back cheerily
as she ran towards the main street and turned towards her school.

I sat by myself for several minutes. We had parked close enough to her
school that I could hear the bell ring, signaling that school had begun.
An incredible sense of sadness and loss overcame me. I knew what it meant,
but I refused to think about it. I clutched Jennifer’s panties in my hand
and brought them up to my nose. The strong scent of young teenage sex
infiltrated my senses. It was something I wouldn’t soon forget. Despite
the finality of our chance encounter, I felt enlivened and filled with love
and gratitude.

Driving to work the next morning, I was clearly beside myself. I didn’t
know quite what to expect as I approached Jennifer’s bus stop. But our
meeting was inevitable. As I came to a stop, I looked over and there she
was: back pack on her shoulders, standing at attention, feet together, and
heels touching. Her eyes greeted me warmly, and I hope my own eyes
projected the same feelings to her. I raised my hand high enough for her
to see it. She waved back stealthily. I made my turn and drove away.
Unfortunately, the sky was clear on this day, with no chance of rain.
In fact, it never did rain again whenever I came to her intersection.
But I always held out hope. We continued to acknowledge each other warmly
every day for a couple more weeks. But school finally let out for the
summer, and her sudden absence at her bus stop came as a shock to me. I
guess I didn’t want to admit that she would no longer be standing out there

anymore.

My shopping center job progressed rapidly, and by mid-summer I was on a
new job site: new location, different route to travel. I don’t think I
ever drove past Jennifer’s intersection again. I used to wonder if she was
sad that I never came by again after school started back up in September.
She probably doesn’t even think about that special day when all the stars
aligned perfectly for us. Why should she, right?

But, to this day, I still have her lacy white panties tucked away
safely. I keep them as proof to myself that it wasn’t all just a dream.