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Old 04-17-2015, 02:03 PM
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Default Stopforths Story.

Stopforth’s Story
By Jill Bird.

I was still in my teens when I had the best sex I ever had; before or since.
In those days my main source of gratification was a wank over a nudie book! Let's start off with the truth; I'd never had sex!

I was a fairly solitary youth, happy with my own company. You would probably call me a bit of a wimp and a geek in today’s parlance. Girls didn't seem to fancy me and blokes didn't try to enlist me into their games and schemes, but I had a couple of mates who liked the same kind of stuff as me and I never felt particularly lonely.
Although I had known a couple of girls we had never gone beyond a feel of the tits under the bra.

But I had a dirty secret.
My favourite “kink” was to strip naked outdoors. I usually did this in the nearby countryside; a woods or quarry area, or in an old derelict industrial site. At that time I wasn't actively looking for someone to “flash” at; the thrill was in being naked in a public place. Sometimes, to make it more exciting I would hide my clothes and walk away from them. I would feel even more vulnerable, not being able to drag my clothes on quickly if someone came by. I suppose it's a sort of masochistic streak but I never really considered what might happen if I was seen, or caught while walking around naked. It's impossible to explain why this felt so intensely exciting but I always had a massive hard-on doing it! I would get as far from my clothes as I dared, then I would have to wank! As soon as I came, the urge to be naked would evaporate and I would be consumed with fear and panic; I would have to find my clothes as quickly as possible and get dressed. I would leave the area as fast as I could, my heart beating wildly and swearing that I would never do such a stupid thing again. But I did, often.

So, the best sex ever began when I set out early on my bike to visit the old factory site about three miles from home that was my favourite place for my nude forays. We had been given a day off from college because it was being used as a voting station for the local elections. A lot of kids from there were going to take the train to the sea-side, which meant there was less chance of one of them visiting the same place as me.

It was a day in May, and the weather was going to be warm and sunny. Strange as it may seem but I preferred wet, damp days because it cut visibility a bit and tended to deter other people from going out walking. You see, although I enjoyed the risk, I tried to minimise it as much as possible.

I arrived at the site, which consisted of many ruined buildings spread over a wide area. Some of them were five or six story factories and warehouses. They stank of decaying rubbish and soggy plaster. I had begun to like that smell.
A quick reconnaissance was always a good idea so I cycled around the cobbled lanes for a few minutes to make sure there was no-one around.
There was an old brick shed that still had a door and I hid the bike in it. Then I decided to leave my clothes there as well. Sometimes I liked to keep on a t-shirt, partly to keep me warm and also it emphasised the nakedness of my lower body. Today I took off everything except my shoes; I never risked going barefoot outside.
With my heart racing and my cock stiff and hard already, I set off along between the buildings. I selected a doorway at random and entered it, going up a flight of concrete stairs until I reached the fourth floor. A door led off the landing to a room that might once have been an office; it wasn't as large as those on the other floors and didn't have all the damage to the floors and oil stains either.
It still had a chair, a wooden upright thing, I thought it must have been left behind when the place closed. There was another door and I found it led to just another room, this time empty. Unlike the other floors most of the windows were intact, except for one or two cracked or missing panes.

The thought that I was here, naked a hundred yards from my clothes began to turn me on and I started to stroke my rigid cock. I didn't want to cum yet but I couldn't stop myself. I was getting to the vinegar stroke when I heard a diesel engine rumbling! Moving to the window I was shocked to see a Transit van come to a stop below my window! I could see a man get out of the drivers side and then disappear for a moment. He reappeared with a woman in a dark coat and they both walked quickly into my building!
They were coming up the stairs; there was no way out for me without passing them!
They might come into my room!
What would I do if they did? Calm down, I told myself. If they were to come in then I would just run past them as fast as I could. They would be too startled to do anything and I could sprint back to my bike shed and hide while I got dressed. It would be okay. Pressed against the door I listened with growing horror as they climbed the steps. They seemed to be making slow work of it; they were scraping their feet and I thought there were some angry, muttered words.
Eventually they reached my landing and came into the first room.
I heard some sort of grunting and gasping; if they were having sex, why didn't they do it somewhere else? Or at least hurry up and clear off?
I heard the sound of the chair scraping the floor and a whimpering which I took to be the woman getting a good seeing-to.
They seemed to be taking a long time over it. And then I heard footsteps running down the stairs. I looked out the window again and saw the van spitting gravel as it sped off.
What was going on? The man must be off on some kind of errand. The woman must still be next door, blocking my escape. But then I had an idea; I would walk suavely through the room, giving her a flash of my dick as I went, and then run like mad downstairs and back to the bike shed!
Taking a deep breath I opened the door and walked into the next room. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of someone to one side. I turned to fully present my front, gave her my “pervert” face and thrust out my hips to make my stiff dick even more prominent and then dashed for the door. I was about two steps down when I suddenly stopped! What had I just seen? Could it have been real?
I went back and there it was; a vision such as I had never seen in real life! A woman was sitting on the chair. She was almost naked and she was blindfolded with one of those sleep-masks you get on air-planes. And wow; she had one of those rubber ball-gags in her mouth! Her shoulders were bare and her breasts looked odd; they were sort of too high and seemed to be bulging outwards! I was unfamiliar with “bondage equipment” in those days. The girlie mags that I could obtain were very tame and none of them dealt with extreme sex; I was lucky if they showed a minge! But I could see she was tied up and unable to speak.

What the hell was going on here? She must have realised she wasn't alone, because she started to moan through the gag, making stupid idiot sounds. I came closer and got yet another shock; she was a tutor at my college!
I started to stammer out, “Miss Holland!” but managed to stifle the words. This was getting to be a very strange day indeed. She wasn't one my teachers, she taught some sort of girlie classes, but along with most of the other pupils and teachers, (female as well as male probably), I lusted after her from afar. And she was here, having some sort of sex game with a bloke who had left her here, alone! What the fuckin' 'ell!
Approaching her, I could see pink cords were tied around her knees, and her ankles were fastened to the chair legs. Her wrists were out of sight behind her and fastened to the chair back.
I pulled the ball from her mouth, it was held by strong elastics. She slavered a bit, then said, “Who is it? Who's there?”
My own mouth was very dry, but I managed to croak, “What's happening, who was that man?”
She seemed to jump at my voice, but she said, “He's going to rape me. I - I think he's going to kill me! Please help me; I need to get away from here!”

“Where's he gone, how long before he comes back?”

“I don't know; he was angry, he forgot something that he had planned to use on me! Oh please hurry up, I've got to get away before he comes back! “

I was thinking furiously. I wanted to help her, but if the guy came back he might kill me too!
She started to whinge again, her voice taking on an angry authoritive tone. “Take this blindfold off and get me untied! And get these things off my breasts they're terribly painful,” Just like a teacher, bossing me about.

“Be quiet!” I told her, “I'll get you out but I can't let you see me!”
“Why? Why can't I see you? Just untie me and then I can get away myself!”
I wasn't going to do that, was I? I untied the cords holding her knees together and then released her wrists from the chair but left them tied behind her back. I helped her to her feet. Now with her standing, I saw the reason for the appearance of her breasts; they had the same pink cords tied around them close to her chest. They had started to turn a bit purple and must have hurt like mad, but I couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
I told her to shut up and just let me guide her but she started talking again so I pushed the ball back into her mouth and tightened up the straps. I had to bend down and release her ankles, which brought me closer to her crotch. I tried, pathetically I suppose, to sniff its aroma.
A pile of clothes was lying in a corner; I saw a dress, panties, tights, bra and the coat I had first seen her in.

I took her by the elbow and started for the stairs, then I had an idea. I grabbed up her coat and some of her clothes; perhaps the kidnapper would think she had freed herself; she wouldn't run off still naked, when she had a coat, would she? When I picked it up I saw a length of the same pink cord which it had been hiding. There was also a Polaroid camera, the only “instant” ones available in those days. I grabbed that as well.
I took a good look at her for the first time. I was a bit shocked to see she had no panties on! She was wearing black nylon sussies and stockings. High heels with ankle straps brought her height up so that she was taller than me by a couple of inches. She was a well-formed shapely woman with a gorgeous figure and an arse that looked all big, round and lovely! Her pubes were neatly trimmed, (shaving wasn't the norm in those days) and the same sandy colour as her “pageboy bob”. My cock was standing up, larger than I had ever seen it; so big it was hurting me! As I helped her down the steps I felt myself, ridiculously, trying not to let it touch her. It was a hazardous descent. She was wobbling on her heels and with not being able to see she nearly fell a number of times.

Out in the road I checked that the coast was clear and wondered which way to go. I took her past a couple of doors and then chose one that I knew well and pulled her inside. It was another building much like the first, one which I had visited on previous visits, but the rooms were larger having once housed machinery.
“Going upstairs, lift your feet up!” I ordered. It felt good, telling a helpless woman what to do; I liked it. I also liked taking a peep at her arse from below; it was an incredible sight!
I took her right to the top of the stairs and through some rooms at the back. Finally I stopped, I knew this room well; I had been up here before, wanking as I secretly watched the occasional woman stroll past.
Spreading her coat onto the cold floor, (ever the gentleman) I made her sit on it. I bent one of her legs at the knee and tied her ankle to her wrists. I rolled her onto her side. There was no chance of her getting to her feet.

I needed my clothes. “Don't make a sound, I'll be back in a minute.”
I left her and went to the front room and watched the road for a moment. I dashed down the steps, glanced up and down the street and ran. I got into the shed just as the van returned!
I watched from the gap in the door with trepidation as the van pulled up. The same man climbed out, holding an Asda carrier- bag. He looked around then entered the building where he had left Miss Holland. A few moments later he came out again, looking flustered. He scanned the street quickly, then jumped in the van and roared away, the tyres spitting gravel.
I felt myself grinning; the field was clear for me.

Once I was dressed I dug out a packet of Jaffa Cakes and a bottle of Vimto from my saddle-bag and returned to my captive, detouring to fetch the chair on my way.
She had thrashed around a little and had moved herself partly off the coat and onto the cold wooden floor.
“Oh you silly girl, Miss Holland, you've got yourself all mucky! Let's get you on your feet and then we can get you sorted out.”
I untied the ankle cord, and helped her up. She started to make sounds through her gag.
“Frances, shut up! I'm going to take the gag away, but if you start to gab at me or shout for help, I will put it back for keeps. Then, if you are good, I will take off the strings from your titties. But I can put them back on if you misbehave. Nod if you understand.” She nodded and I could see tears running below the blindfold. As I dropped my pants and kicked them out of the way, it occurred to me I had never stripped off so many times in one day before.
I slackened the gag straps so I could move it well clear of her face. Her mouth drooled for a moment, then she started to gabble, “Please don't hurt me! You can untie me and just leave me, I wont tell anyone. Don't let him come back for me, please!”
I could smell the rubber on her breath, I quite liked it.
“Calm down, Fran. Remember what I said about you being a good girl? Our agreement, hmm?
The bad man has gone, he's not going to get you. Your problem is; you're still here with me. And I haven't done with you yet. But don't worry, I won’t kill you. I just want you to keep me company for a while. Maybe you can teach me something. Now let's see what we can do.”
I checked the titty strings; they were tied with bows which was lucky because I had nothing to cut them with. But then I remembered the camera. Checking it I found it was fully loaded, so I started to take some snaps of her; Miss Holland standing with her feet apart, from the back, bent over, close ups of those big purple tits, the lovely big round arse, the neat slit of her cunt; I took pics from all angles.
“Let's take these off now,” I told her. I held up one tit in my hand. The nipple was standing out the length of a finger joint; talk about chapel coat-pegs! I pulled at the end of the bow and let it unfasten. I was surprised when she began to moan with pain; I thought I was easing it! Tears trickled down her cheeks; I hadn't realised the rush of blood back into the tits would be so painful. I untied the other one and watched the colour of it change. She was moaning quite loudly now, but I was enjoying the effect I was able to have on her. Helpfully, I massaged them to restore the blood supply. I began to pass my hands all over her body.

I was particularly interested her belly, I don't know why, I just liked the way it curved gently outward from under the suspender belt. I kept coming back to it, stroking it and then reaching between her legs to gently probe her cunt lips, tugging at her pubic hair and to pull apart her bum cheeks to examine her tiny puckered arse hole.
It was time to take things a step further. I had to fuck her, but I was still afraid of what I was doing. Fuck her! I'd never even been with a naked woman, I'd never seen a minge before! And here I was, in charge of a lovely, helpless piece of cunt.
I bent her over forwards over the chair-back and pulled her feet wide apart. I nuzzled her cunt and gave it a tentative lick. She didn't smell fishy, as I had expected. Instead there was a slight aroma of sweat and piss. I pressed my cock head against her cuntlips, not really knowing how to fuck a woman. I was nervous and the first lunge missed and my cock slid up and along the crease of her bottom, suddenly ejaculating upwards and spurting hot cum onto her back. My cock kept pulsing for at least ten seconds, coating her with cum up to between her shoulder blades!
When I orgasmed, my urge passed off like a weight lifting from my shoulders. In its place a terrible depression and fear of retribution fell on me, as it always did when I did my public nudie thing. I wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible, but I knew that if I just left it at that, I would miss out on an opportunity that would never present itself again. So I forced myself to stay put, and ignore the rising panic.

While I waited for my sex urge to return, which never took very long, (sometimes, riding home after a naked ramble, I would find myself having to return because the desire had returned), I decided to talk with Miss Holland. Partly, I felt so badly about what I had done to her that I wanted to try and sort of make friends with her.
I helped her to sit on the chair while she got her breath back. I gave her a drink from my bottle, which made her cough.
“How did you come to be in that state, with that man I mean?”
She sniffed and replied, “ He just came to my house. I was just about to go out when the doorbell rang. When I opened the front door he just pushed me inside. He was very rough, he tied me up and gagged me. He made me put on a coat and hustled me out to the van, all the time threatening to kill me. I don't know why no-one saw us in the street. He brought me here, wherever it is and made me undress and then put on a dress and some underwear that he had brought.
Once I was dressed up he undressed me again! I think he was about to rape me. Then he remembered he had left a dildo behind and was very angry with me, as if it was my fault. That's where he had gone, when you came.”
“What's a dildo?” I wondered, but didn't want to show my ignorance.
She started to whine again and beg me to release her, so I gagged her and made her stand up. I bent her over the chair and slapped her big arse a few times before pulling her upright again.
“Do you think you're the teacher and I'm in your classroom? Get real you fucking bitch! Any more, and I'll kick your fat arse down the fuckin' stairs!” It felt marvellous, talking to her like that.

I was getting hard again, and I knew I would be able to fuck her soon. But I didn't want another failure, I wanted to be hard but not to go off too quickly. That had been mainly due to having my hard-on too long.

I had never had a blow job, or a gobble as we used to call it. Did I dare put it in her mouth? I bent the helpless woman at the waist and pushed her head down to it.”Suck me, Miss Holland!” I commanded.
“Please don't do this. How do you know my name? Are you a student at my college? Why are you not helping me?”
I was getting sick of her chatter. “Suck me, you stupid cunt! Or I'll tie the titty strings back on!” I had never used such language to a female before; we didn't in those days. But I liked saying it though. I could say and do anything I wanted to her. It felt good!
She obeyed me! I could hardly believe it! She opened her mouth and even moved her face to find the head of my cock! I shoved and pulled her head up and down, telling her to suck hard, bitch!
She was sobbing now, and I think she had got the point. I decided I wanted her to see what was happening but that meant I had to hide my face somehow. Looking at the small pile of her clothes that I had thrown to the floor I saw her tights. I pulled one leg over my head, bank robber-style. Now I removed the blindfold. She was still blinking from the daylight as I dragged her head down by the hair again.

I tried to guide my dick around inside her mouth so that I could see her cheeks being pushed out by its head. It was jumping and twitching. It must have gone in too far because she kept coughing and trying to pull her head away. I didn't last more than a minute before I shot my load into her throat, causing her to retch and choke. Then she coughed hard and vomited her breakfast; toast and tea, I think. Some of it escaped from her nostrils, looking like two snot candlesticks slowly sliding down to her top lip.

Once again, with my urge satisfied I began to feel the overwhelming depression that always came with an ejaculation. And then the panic started to rise. What was I thinking? Raping a woman in a derelict building? A tutor at my college of all people! What would happen if I got arrested? The shame, the disgrace, the humiliation!
I began to think of ways to hide the evidence of my crime. I could throttle Miss Holland and hide her body under the debris of this disused site. There was no knowledge of DNA testing then, if her body was found, it couldn't be traced to me, could it? Kill Miss Holland? Was I out of my mind? I couldn't do that to her; I couldn't hurt a fly! In any case, there would be no need to; how could I be caught for this? No-one knew yet that she had been abducted, and she didn't know who I was, and she wasn't going to tell anybody that she had been fucked by a college boy, was she? And I had the Polaroids; she wouldn't want those to be shown around. No, she would keep quiet about everything that had happened and hope I wouldn't tell the other students.

I began to calm down; everything was fine. I was here with the beautiful, widely desired Frances Holland, all tied up and at my mercy! My dick began to stir again.

This was all making me thirsty so I pulled off the tights and sat in a corner behind her and drank some of my Vimto. I ate a biscuit too, but she wasn't getting one; she could have one as a reward later, if she was good.
I was ready for another go and I jumped up and stood in front of her. I told her to stand and she obeyed, which gave me a lovely twinge of pleasure. The snotty cum was drying on her lip so I used the discarded panties to wipe it off. She was staring curiously and I realised I had left the tights off. Oh fuck! There was nothing I could do about it now so I didn't mention it.

I moved her so I could sit down on the chair and study her body.
“Feet a bit wider apart, Fran,” I ordered, “ a bit more, please.”
She looked very nice, her belly just about my eye-level. I reached up and grasped both her breasts, squashing them together so they bulged out beautifully. I pressed my mouth on a nipple and sucked hard, so hard she yelped with pain. I did it again to the other tit.
My erection had solidified and I pulled her to me and made her squat on my lap. With a bit of fiddling I got my dicks head inside her vagina but she was very dry and it burned, like wanking with sandpaper. The sensation once I was fully inside was wonderful and I fucked her gently for a while. During this I held her head and kissed her cheeks and then her lips but her breath stank of my cum and vomit so I didn't do that again.
I moved my hands to the cheeks of her backside and started her jogging up and down slowly at first and then faster as my orgasm approached. I came with some great shudders of my hips, but I don't think Miss Holland came. Not surprising really.

All these modern porno films make out that any female will come eventually, no matter which hole is being fucked or how ugly the man. Bollocks!
“Well, Frances, you really are a lovely fuck. I bet that fellow who brought you here is kicking himself for letting you get away.
If he knew what he was missing he would be covered in self-inflicted boot marks!”
I pushed her off my lap and freed myself from her weight, then let her sit down on the chair again. I took up the camera and took some more pics. She stared at me in horror.
“What are you doing? Oh, you're not going to show pictures of me! Please don't do that; what would it do to my career if anyone saw them?”
“But Frances, you are beautiful! Surely you would like the world to see what you look like in action! No? Well, maybe we can come to an understanding. I will keep these pics safe to make sure you don't get any ideas of reporting me to the police, although I know you wont want to describe today’s adventures in the detail they will expect.” She didn't answer, just moaned a little, sounding very pissed off.

I gave her a biscuit and another drink from my bottle. I checked my watch; time was getting on, I must think of my next moves.
Yes, it was time for another fuck; perhaps the last one before I would have to go home. I had a think about what I would like off her; another gobble, up the cunt? Oh, ******* boy, you want to bum her? Bum the lovely Miss Holland?

You see, bumming wasn't something we thought about in those days; no really! Bumming was for queers; no normal person wanted to shove their dick up someone’s arse did they? What little pornography we could get our hands on, tended to show male on female, “normal” sex. Bumming was not usually mentioned when discussing heterosexual sex. That doesn't mean it was never discussed. My friends and I wondered what people got out of buggery, be it the giver or the receiver. But someone said, if you were to fuck someone up the arse, then it would be a tight fit and some men liked to bum a woman when her cunt had become too stretchy! Like after she had kids her cunt becomes like a horsecollar!
I had given this a large amount of consideration and found the idea of bumming a woman a very attractive proposition.
And this was an unusual situation; a one-off. Surely I should try out everything possible while I had the chance?
I pulled Frances from the chair and made her kneel on her outspread coat. Then I eased her down so that her chest and face were on the floor and her bottom up in the air.
More photography, especially close-ups of her cunt and arse-hole.
I loved her big titties hanging down so I made her hold a painful pose where she was halfway bent down while I took a few shots.
Once she had resumed her position with her chest on the floor, I knelt myself behind her. The sight of her bum sticking up made my cock very stiff. I sniffed her cunt; it smelled mainly of my dried cum.

I pressed my cock against her anus; it didn't yield.
“Relax your arse-hole, you silly bitch or it will hurt you like fuck”
“I can't, how can I? It's not supposed to be soft!”
She was right, I needed to lubricate it a bit. I considered finding my bottle and pouring a drop or two of Vimto on it. Instead I shoved my cock into her cunt and worked it back and forth until it became slippery.
I pulled it from her cunt and place the head against her anus. I pulled her cheeks wide and shoved my hips forward. It was tight! I could see her anus opening just a little bit, but not much. She shrieked as the cock-head pushed against her shit-hole. I couldn't get it in because she was able to move away far enough that I couldn't keep up the pressure. I moved my knees forward until she was pressed too firmly against the floor to move away from my knob. I was still struggling to enter when she tried to shit me out by sort of squeezing her sphincter. This had the oppsite effect to what she wanted; although my dick bent a bit and hurt something awful my knob slid past the barrier! Did she scream? You would think I'd shoved a knife up there! I kept pushing slowly into her until my balls touched her skin. I took a moment to savour the sensation of being embedded in a woman’s arse-hole, without her permission, and so far in breach of the law I would be locked away for years if I got caught.

Even though I wasn't moving my dick, she kept on squawking like a mad hen. It was getting on my nerves so I slapped her bum with my hand. It didn't stop her whingeing though, loud and high-pitched! I was going to gag her but my hand found the leather belt from my trousers and I took it by the buckle and struck it against her upper back, between her shoulder blades. For a moment she was quiet and then began to yelp with a sort of oww, oww, oww sort of sound. But now, I didn't care. I was enjoying the power of being able to make her scream.
I started to fuck her arse-hole a little faster. Soon, I was going vigorously while I repeatedly whipped her back from top to bottom making lots of pink stripes criss-crossing her skin.

The tightness of her sphincter and my youthful predisposition to premature ejaculation soon brought about a gush of spunk from my (deservedly) sore penis. I gave her one or two more welts as my lust, strength and anger slowly subsided as I jerked to a finish.
Dropping the belt I leaned against her back while my strength returned. As my cock shrank she became quieter, just moaning a little into the lining of her coat.
I slowly pulled out of her arse, which still gripped my dick surprisingly firmly. As the head came out so did an enormous fart and a splatter of spunk and shit which ran down the lips of her cunt!
It surprised and disgusted me. The stink was awful and I wanted to get as far away from her as possible. She slumped onto floor and lay shuddering. I stood up and used her panties to wipe my dick and balls.

I had finally had enough of Miss Holland. I looked at her, lying on the floor, covered in dust and dirt, and decided to call it a day.

But what about Frances? I couldn't just leave the sad bitch tied and gagged here on the floor; she might starve to death! Or some evil bastard might find her and do something nasty!
Nope! I wasn't going to be so mean to such a nice lady, I would make sure she got home safely.
Could I make an anonymous call to the police, so they could find her? No chance! Had to keep the Bobbies out of this.
So what I did, was to leave her alone while I nipped off to bring my bike to the front door so I could make a quick get-away.
Back in the room she was still moaning softly on the floor. The welts from the whipping I'd given her were livid; I felt a bit sorry for doing that to her, Probably the old post-wank depression was settling on me.
I helped her onto the chair and untied her wrists. I offered her my last Jaffa cake and she drank the rest of the Vimto. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and her eye-liner was all smudged. She looked terrible. I felt disgusted by her.
Her coat was all dusty and creased so I tried to bat some of it off.
I realised she had not got her handbag with her, so she would have no money for the bus. I didn't have more than a few pennies on me so I couldn't help with that.
I took the cowards way out. I told her I needed to fetch something from my bike and left for the last time. Pausing only to stuff my bottle and the camera into the saddlebag I jumped on my bike and pedalled off before she knew I'd gone.

When I got home my tea was nearly ready, so I had a quick all-over wash in the bathroom and came down to eat.
Mum asked if I'd had a good day and I said not bad.

I was a bit nervous going to college next day. Everyone was talking about their trip to the coast, but no-one asked me what I'd done yesterday.
I didn't expect to see Miss Holland but during the afternoon break she walked past me in the corridor. My heart sank and the familiar panic started to rise in my stomach but she didn't seem to see me.

She looked okay and was walking without apparent difficulty so my dick hadn't caused her too much discomfort.
She never looked at me directly, I don't know if she recognised me, and nothing was ever said about our day in the derelict building. I never heard a whisper of a rumour about it so it was our secret.
I have kept the Polaroids safe to this day. Oh, yes and the panties!
I found them in my trouser pocket when I was getting ready for college the next day.
I still have them, too.
Reminders of the best sex I ever had.

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