The Gatehouse.

Sheela’s Story

By Starlight

With his hand in mine, I let him lead me down the drive towards the Gatehouse. I was as prepared as I would ever be. Two heavy petting sessions in the school grounds, kind of abortive, as my fears had overcome me when he tried to slip a hand into my knickers. The open mouthed kisses had taken me by surprise, stirring feelings I was still trying to deal with. I ached to give him what he wanted and when he told me how he had managed to acquire the key to the currently unoccupied masters accommodation – it seemed to be the perfect opportunity. I was determined to let it happen, go all the way if that was what he desired. I was going shamelessly prepared, and sneaked out after prep to meet him at the top of the long school driveway. The cool evening air touched me like it never had before. I could feel the strange concoction of anticipation and terror flowing in my bloodstream. I felt wanton and wild, and not a little terrified.

The Gatehouse cottage looked dark and rather spooky. He produced the door key with a flourish and opened it without problems. We were far enough, and well screened enough, from the driveway and school that with the curtains drawn we felt safe with the lights on. The furnishings were rather threadbare, but the sofa was fairly new. A single large fluffy cushion seemed to be the sole decorative feature of the room. He hugged me in his way, an enveloping bear hug that crushed me comfortably, weakening my knees. His hands wandered down to caress my behind, squeezing, kneading. He guided me towards the sofa and he sat, motioning me to join him. I steeled myself and complied, rather stiff, knees together and my hands clasped in my lap. He wasted no time on small talk, we both knew why we were there. His left arm slipped around my shoulders, and he turned his body slightly to face me. He nuzzled my neck, and moved on to my ear and cheek, much like before. This time I was more than ready for the open mouthed kisses. His right hand gently turned my face to his, and he caressed me gently. I liked the way he did that, and I could feel the stiffness leave my body and I relaxed. It felt good, I enjoyed his obvious pleasure in my touching me, lips tenderly kissing mine, brushing my eyes and running lightly over my skin in kind of tactile worship. I hardly notice when he unbuttoned my blouse and slipped his warm hand in to cup and fondle my unfettered breasts. He found my nipples hard to his touch, and when he covered them with his circling palm I found the sensation more than pleasant. So far, this was all familiar territory. Time to move on… his hand dropped into my lap, and began to stroke my knees, just below the hem of my skirt.

I closed my eyes, and thought to myself, this is it. This is really happening. A moment later I opened them again as I felt my skirt being inched up over my knees and thighs. He is going to find out that I have no knickers on, I thought. What would he think about my hairless mound? Momentarily I cursed my mother, and her insistence that it was the proper way to be. I had heard, and ignored, the odd snigger in the girl’s dorm, on the rare occasions that we glimpsed each other’s naked form. How I suddenly envied them their curly tufts and concealing fuzz. Would he find my smooth, hairless sex a childish affection that would damn me in his eyes? And the fact that I had my pants screwed up in my jacket pocket? Would he think me a cheap little tart? Would he be pleased by the clear unspoken signal I would be giving him? Had I left them on, would I have found the courage to let him remove them? To ask him to remove them? The words to stop him, stop his happening, died unspoken. I was going to go through with this, I wanted this to happen.

It both exited and depressed me. It was exiting because I realised I’d have to deliver what I was promising, and depressed because I wanted him to know what a great leap into the unknown I was taking with him that night. My skirt inched higher and I tensed at what his reaction would be. What he eventually did, removed all my worries, and made me aware for the first time in my life what power we women can wield. His reaction? He gasped. That’s all. He just gasped. He’d inched my skirt right up to the top of my thighs and I felt how his fingers trembled when he came to smooth flesh of my inner surfaces. But then came the moment when he pushed my skirt that extra inch and he revealed at last, the fine butter smooth skin of my Venus mound, as bald a new born baby, and just the very beginnings of my cleft. And he gasped.

I opened my eyes then and watched him then, and let me tell you – the look of adoration on his face. You’d think he was being led into the treasure cave of his dreams – which I guess he was. Me being the treasure. I mean… look at your own pussy, down there, and what do you see? Skin and hair, or no hair in my case, … a bit of a bulge… the beginnings of your furrow. Big deal. But a randy male looks at it – and remember, that’s all he can see, yet – you haven’t opened your legs – he can’t see the gates of paradise – all he’s seeing is mound, and groove – a bit of it – but just watch his eyes almost pop out! Listen to him gasp. Feel the shiver in his body. Hear his breathing go all to pieces… ! I turned into a goddess at that moment. I felt an urge to strip all my clothes off then. I felt as if I could kill him with visions of ecstasy to come! But, of course, I just lay there, stupefied, really, by the weight of his adoration of me. And feeling superior, too - because, although I’m as fond of looking at sexy men as the next girl is – I could never go into that trance of worshipful adoration.

He carefully folded my skirt into a rumpled belt around my waist, and I lay bare and vulnerable before his intense, worshipful gaze. Tentatively he reached out with a shaky hand, his fingers trembling as he brushed the smooth, sensitive skin of my mound. He seemed to be afraid it might vanish in a puff of smoke. His touch tingled, electrifying me. I had the urge to grip his wrist and force his hand hard against me, rubbing the places that I suddenly wanted rubbing. I just lay there, of course, unable to move or speak and let him gently, oh so tenderly stroke my pussy, until it was it was me trembling with tension and anticipation. He knew all about my “little man”, working a moist fingertip lightly over the spot. Involuntarily my thighs sagged open, parting my slit, inviting him… and he took up the offer. I think I heard my own gasp as he curled a finger down my cleft and probed the mouth of my virginal opening. He found slid into me I felt the pressure as he explored the barrier of my hymen, stretching the narrow opening wider than I had ever dared. The thumb that remained over my button maintained its steady, circling pressure as a second finger squeezed in beside the first. Feelings, sensations began to make my head reel and I started to panic a little. Then he leaned further over and covered my mouth with his. I was busy sucking on his insistent, probing tongue as he began to work his two impaling fingers deeper into me, his palm now enveloping my sex, the ball of his thumb pressuring my clitoris rhythmically… I know I felt his third finger, down near my anus, slick with my own juices… but frankly, by then, I really didn’t give a damn.

I did not orgasm, still too tense, too fearful. It was all too new, too overwhelming… sounds crazy, but I do not really know what happened for a while. When my head cleared a little, his mouth was gone from mine, and I was kissing his hair, as he suckling on my tingling nipple. His fingers still moved in the liquid depths of my sex, deep and probing. Technically, I suppose I lost my maidenhead to his fingers, but my clearing mind knew that the loss of virginity involved a little more than a couple of fingers. Bold with passion I found the words I had longed to, but dreaded to, say.

“Fuck me. Please do it. God forgive me.” My shaky voice sounded quite alien to my ears. His gentle laugh froze the blood in my veins. My heart felt as if it had stopped… then he spoke, warm and gentle, with hint of that seductive laughter.

“Uh uh. I think I’d rather make love to you.” The bastard! Silver-tongued devil. Golden tongued would prove more apt. I’d have bent over and taken it up the ass there and then if he had asked. Instead he stole my soul and heart, along with my mouth, my ass and my willing cunt.

He slipped to his knees and positioned himself between my thighs. I was suddenly very self-conscious again, at his proximity to my most private parts, exposed and shiny wet as they were. I was also suddenly icily aware of my own aroma… and suddenly tried to close my thighs – stupid with his torso in the way. That damming gentle laugh and words to charm the birds from the trees.

“God, you are beautiful. Don’t ever change.” Which, as intended, relaxed me once more – long enough for him to suddenly, shockingly, raise my knees and part my legs, folding them up and spreading me like a gyno exam. I gasped a pointless “No!”, far too late. He had me neatly pinned. I wriggled ineffectively, vulnerable and exposed in a way that I could never have imagined. Then once more, his rapt, adoring, expression - as he feasted his gaze up on my smooth, hairless sex -relaxed me. Until realised how this position exposed my anus to his. If I had been free to move I would have curled up with embarrassment. I tensed all over again as he lowered his face to the juncture of my thighs, then yelped as his stiffened tongue parted my labia with hot wet lick and stabbed into my vagina. I died of shame, of pride and of pleasure. My fears and restraints evaporated as he ate me, inhaled me, with such obvious joy. I was lost and damned for all time from that moment on. He showered me with kisses, nibbling bites and sensuous licks upon my bare mons and damp furrow. He couldn’t seem to get enough of it. He flicked, and licked and suckled on my aching clit. His golden tongue and stiff fingers plunged deep into my pussy. I whimpered and moaned when he forced a finger into my juice filled asshole, and I urged him on like well-paid whore. Just imagine -a modest, proper, Indian girl who couldn’t say ‘penis’ without blushing or giggling – banished at the flick of tongue. I came this time… wild and abandoned and it just seemed to go on and on. I heard my own voice, like a distant loudspeaker, echoing in my head. Fuck me, eat me, suck me… the timeless litany of pleasurable sex.

Then there was a mere finger or two to stir the honey pot, as he rose and leaned over me. I had not heard him undo his trousers, or free the ridged bar of flesh thus exposed – I guess I had been otherwise engaged. Cock, penis, dick, hardon… It was not really what I expected. Curly snails on statues, anonymous outlines in textbooks. Pale, and veined and throbbing with life. The glans, the smooth, aerodynamic bugle with its single eye… I would in time, come to know you well. This night I met a stranger, pressed to my open, panting mouth and I welcomed you with all of my inexperienced enthusiasm. I was vaguely aware of the size of him, the hardness and slight salty flavour. In the days, and nights to come I would learn more about this throbbing stranger, and discover the fact that this was a circumcised variety, marvel at the curious furry pouch of his testicals and how that little ridge of tissue beneath the flared head could drive him wild. For now he contented himself with a few gentle, shallow pokes into my open mouth, distending my cheeks and making me snuffle awkwardly through my nose. It was only a brief taste, pun intended, of reciprocated oral pleasure. But I loved his rapt expression, the tension in his restrained movements… this was an act I vowed to master. I could feel the control I had over him, for the first time, I could feel the power in me, the power to bend him to my will, to my desires.

He withdrew, all too soon, and I felt cheated of my chance to savoir that power, to return the pleasure his tongue had given me. He knelt once more, and raised my thighs as before. The difference this time was the ridged, upward curving hardness nuzzling the fleshy gates of my damp flower. He took his time, the slippery length rubbing back and forth along my cleft, clearly enjoying the feel of me. His face was intense, rapt - as if he was trying to burn the memory of me in his synapses – to replay at his leisure. I was afire with anticipation, with a hungry longing that is impossible to put into words. I found my voice, a slurred and throaty stranger’s voice, and whispered, “Please… please hurry. I want you.” I could sense the burn as my ears coloured at those wicked words.

Then the blunt wedge of him was pushing past my over lubricated portal, pressing into me, filling me. Belatedly fear blossomed in my traditionally heaving breast once more. He was too much, it was going to hurt. What if he got me pregnant. Oh God… what a time to think about the practicalities.

“Don’t”, I sobbed and he paused. Brows furrowed in concern. I panted, gathering my courage. I wanted this. Of course he will fit, I was made for this. The tip of cock throbbed and burned at the very mouth of my vagina. Pregnancy.

“Please… don’t cum in me…” I managed to whisper.

His smile was one of relief, of concern. His voice was warm, serious.

“Don’t worry – not a part of my master plan.”

His impaling spike pressed deeper. I whimpered, feeling my body tensing around him and he would pause again, his hands and mouth caressing me, and as I relaxed a little, he slipped deeper. I was stretched and filled with an alien hardness, and he took a lifetime to enter me that first time. Every nerve ending I possessed seemed to be concentrated between my thighs. There was no pain, a moment or two of mild discomfort, my body did what it was designed to do. And then my concentrated senses felt the feathery brush of curly hairs as his balls tickled my ass - and he was hilt deep inside my body. I had six inches of hard cock snugly buried inside me for the first time… and it felt good. So good.

“Don’t move. Let me feel you.” I whispered. Then giggled as I felt his length pulse inside me.

“Did you do that?”

“Hm”, grunted softly and he did it again. I loved that sensation. I tensed myself and tried to squeeze him back.

“Feel that?” He kissed me, then whispered, “Just don’t have a coughing fit”. I found that hilarious and laughed aloud. I could feel myself clench around him and it made him groan theatrically. Then, in one smooth motion he withdrew from me, almost fully outside me, forcing a whimpering moan from me… it felt like… like a yawning emptiness, like hunger… or as if he was turning me inside out… I just started to speak, to tell him to stay in me when he filled me again. His full length sliding deep into me, his balls swinging to thud gently against my exposed bottom. My words vanished in a gasping rush of expelled air. Then he stilled, and throbbed, basking in my liquid embrace. “Do it again.” I urged. And he did… Oh God he did. Again and again and again. My world dissolved into sensory overload once more, as he hunched over me, driving his hardness into me. I remember my thighs trying to lock around his torso, my heels drumming against him. I remember the steady rhythmic slap of his balls against me, his thumb on my clitoris, his mouth clamped over one nipple then the other… I tugged at his hair, groped for his ass and drummed my fists on his shoulders. He paused, deep in me. New tempo, shallower, gentler… now pressing kind of sideways, a twisting motion that seemed to churn my insides into a knot of pleasure. Then the angle changed, plunging in more vertical, then shallow, touching different places inside me. Then back into the steady back and forth, full length plunges that made my head feel like it was going to explode. Rippling waves of unsuspected pleasure wracked my body once more… Then he was rearing up, his cock springing free of my sex. It looked painfully swollen, shiny with my cum. His face was screwed up in the agony of unbearable pleasure. He was about to cum! I grasped the jerking, slippery length just as I felt the first pulse of semen along the shaft – and the creamy jet spat from the winking eye, over my sweaty mound and the tangled rope of my skirt. His own hand quickly covered mine, as he guided me in that rapid back and forth action of male masturbation. I struggled to lean hungrily forward, and as he pressed forward, over me, a second spurt landed on my spit covered breasts. Finally, in a backbreaking stretch, I had his cock to my lips. He spat one more tiny dollop onto my tongue and I savoured my first taste of semen. And of me. Sugar and spice, and a touch of the sea. My inner self gloated.

I had done it… and inside I revelled in my new found powers. I lay back in the sofa, enveloped in a fog of warm contentment, as he lazily massaged the splatters of aromatic fluid into my breasts and mons. I savoured our mingled flavours and enjoyed his devotions. I was relaxed and comfortable, letting him gently remove my blouse and stained skirt with a childlike passivity. I loved the gentle crush of his hugs, his hungry kisses on my lips and neck. The length of his naked body entwined with mine as we lay along the sofa. I could feel his hardness stiring against my flank and reached for him, wrapping my hands around the shaft. He shifted slightly to allow me better access, and then slipped a hand between my thighs. I winced slightly, suddenly aware of the tenderness in my new pussy. We lay a while, and he seemed as hard as ever. I was slippery wet, with seemingly endless supply of honey from my overflowing pot. A thought began to grow… dare I? Hell yes!

“Again. Do it again.”

That gentle laugh held no mockery to my ears this time. I heard the pleasure, the pride in it. “I thought you’d never ask”. He rose, pulling free of my hand, and I rolled me onto my back. I watched his eyes widen in appreciation as I exposed my newly sucked, newly fucked, bald, smooth lipped furrow to his gaze. Having so recently filled that crack with tongue and fingers and hard pumping cock, his adoration bathed me in a warm glow all over again.

“Eat it.” I growled. And he did. I lost all restraint, fingers tangled in his hair, hips bucking. Somewhere in the midst of my gut clenching orgasm I could feel his thumb slide into my ass. An hour ago I would have died of shame. Now? Now I wondered what his cock would feel like buried in that tight, tingling orifice. The throes subsided, a lazy post climactic warmth flooded me, his tongue reduced to a the occasional pleasurable, lazy laps along my splayed labia. He rose onto his knees once more, the lower half of his face glistening with spit and pussy juice.

“Turn over.” Why? Was my initial thought. Then mentally I shrugged, whatever he wanted. I rolled over, and it was only when he raised my hips, and nudged my thighs wide, so that I ended up with one foot stretched out and resting on the floor, the other kneeling on the sofa, did I understand. Sure. It was a position I had seen illustrated – doggy, rear entry. I gripped the cushion and waited. It felt pretty good already… kind of submissive, animalistic. His kiss my proffered behind, then licked at me. He bit my ass! Then kissed the glowing spot. It was a weird feeling, his mouth and tongue on my ass, and poking my pussy from behind. Nice weird. But a tease – I was confident enough now to wriggle my behind at him, and he quickly took the hint. Oh god – I didn’t know it could keep getting better. No slowly, slowly teasing this time – his cock parted my pouting lips and drove deeply into me from behind. He went deeper into me than ever, and touched something deep in my body that simply drove me wild, and actually saw spots swim before my widen opened eyes. Adding to the effect, his balls now swung against the fully parted front of my pussy and clitoris… hard and fast doggy style moved to top of my wish list. I was rocked forward, and found myself pushing back against his thrusts, trying to drive him deeper. He just kept fucking me… I lost all track of time, all control of my senses, burying my face in a cushion and simply lost myself. At some point, his hard thrusts collapsed me onto my stomach, my ass staying raised to accept him. I think I was yelling into the pillow through most of it. A lifetime later I became aware the rapid pounding of my abused little pussy was abating, I could hear his breathing, catching, kind of gulping… then he withdrew from me, once more leaving that emptiness… although by now, there was a certain tenderness that made it more endurable. The hard slippery bar of his cock slid up the crease of my ass, his hands spreading my behind trembled with tension and I knew he was about to cum. I thought about his thumb in my ass, and the hot pressure of his pulsating shaft rubbing over my tight, sensitive opening.

“Cum in my ass”, I croaked at him. I still feel like blushing with shame at those shameless words. But by now I just wanted to feel him inside me, feeling his pleasure as he had felt mine, accepting him, gripping him. I think I felt his jet of cum on my knotted sphincter even as the blunt, juice coated wedge of his glans pressed into me. I was as orgasmicaly relaxed as I have ever been. My overflowing fluids and probably his semen lubricated his entrance and apart from a momentary uncomfortable expansion it felt nothing but wonderfully fulfilling. My wide stretched anus tingled as if it was on fire, not painfully, just an intense tingle. A wave of pleasure washed over me. A had a corner of the cushion in my mouth, biting, yelling into it. The tight grasp of my sphincter muscle could feel every pulsating jet, as came in my ass, collapsing over me. He grunted in orgasmic ecstasy into my tangled hair. In a series of twitching thrusts, he forced the full length of his engorged shaft deep, so deep, into my ass. He bucked and jerked on my back, groaning as he emptied himself. The waves of pleasure intensified, each pulse of semen down the impaling shaft set off coloured stars behind me eyes.

Still at last, he lay heavy on me, a comforting weight the I dreaded leaving me. His cock twitched sleeping deep inside me, and I playfully wriggled my ass, and drew a tired chuckle from him. He nibbled at my ear, and seemed as unwilling to move as I. He cooled, his hardness gradually softened, and shrank still gripped tightly by my body. I think I dozed off, awaking with a start as his diminished organ slipped easily free of me. I shivered, missing his warmth from my back.

“Sorry, sweet. It’s late and we must clean up before heading back. There’s a shower, and hot water.” I was compliant, and did as he bid in a kind of waking dream. He carried me, so easily in his arms, and he washed me in the shower. Thoroughly. I tried to take him in my mouth at one point, but he gently resisted.

“Later”. And I nodded agreeably.

I let him dress me, watching him dab ineffectively at the semen stains on my skirt. All I could see was that expression of adoration as he gazed upon my naked body. He was mine now… and I knew how to bend him to my will.

“You ok?” he asked, concern in his voice. I gave head a shake.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. Wonderful in fact.”

The End

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