Freshman, Page 3

  "Eeew! How would you even fit something like that inside of you!" She’d shrieked, though her cheeks had been as flushed and her eyes as wide as mine. Neither of us had really talked about it, but I know we’d both felt something hot deep inside seeing that thick shaft in the tiny hands of the girl who didn't look much older than us.

  Now, I'd only gotten the quickest of peaks at that bulge in Mr. Weaver's boxers, but all I'd been able to think about all afternoon was that picture of the huge porn cock that had made me and my friend both blush as well as secretly wet before. I realized I was actually getting really turned on. I could feel a heat from much more than just the afternoon sun blooming out from between my legs, and I blushed at the realization. I shivered as I sat up, and then padded barefoot to the house to get a drink of water and cool off a little bit.

  *****

  I shivered as I opened the refrigerator door, feeling cool chill tingle over my sun-warmed body and making my nipples pucker into hard little buds under my bikini.

  I should probably get changed I thought, glancing at the time. It was probably time to go home anyways, seeing as I was through with work. And as hot a fantasy as it was, I’m not sure it was really appropriate for me to be strolling through my much older, hunky neighbor’s house in just a bikini.

  I'd left my clothes in a pile on one of the kitchen table chairs, but as I walked over, I quickly realized they weren't there anymore. Tyler had apparently moved them for some reason, and I felt a tingling blush roll up my cheeks, hoping he hadn't seen the tiny pink thong I'd tucked inside my shorts.

  When I walked curiously out of the kitchen, I spotted my pile of clothes on the bench by the front door now instead. I frowned, curious as to why he would've moved my clothes at all.

  And then, I heard it.

  The sound was muffled through the not quite closed door of the study he kept down the hall. It was gruff, almost like he was struggling or swearing under his breath.

  I almost, almost opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, but something stopped me. Curiosity took hold then, and leaving my pile of clothes where they were, I slowly tip-toed down the hallway. I'm not sure I'll ever know what made me feel the need to sneak towards the door that day, but I do know that I'll never forget what I saw when I finally go there.

  I remember my pulse skipping a full beat as stifled a gasp with my hand, my eyes going wide as I peaked through the crack in the door.

  There, sitting at his desk was Mr. Weaver, with both hands wrapped tightly around and quickly stroking his absolutely huge cock.

  I bit my hand hard to keep from gasping, just staring at my hot older employer as he jerked himself off. He was sitting by the window at his desk, perpendicular to the door, and his head was thrown back with his eyes tightly shut. The big, thick dick in his hand was just enormous; at least as big as the porno-cock Anna and I had giggled about that time before. But this time, it was real, and it was barely eight feet away from me.

  And then, just as my brain was just starting to wrap its head around what I was seeing, Mr. Weaver moved his hands slightly, and I saw something else that made my jaw drop.

  There, tightly wrapped around the thick shaft of his cock, was a very familiar looking tiny, pink thong; my thong. My heart jumped into my throat as I realized I was watching Mr. Weaver masturbating using my panties.

  He grunted again, his hands squeezing his big dick as he shuttled them up and down the shaft. I could see the fat head of him pulsing on every stroke, and the muscles on his arms straining as he groaned.

  "Oh fuck yeah baby, just like that,” he muttered out, his eyes still closed. "Spread that little pussy for me, honey."

  I felt a hot flush creep over me, my nipples straining at the material of my top and my tight little cunt getting hot and wet inside of my bikini as I was suddenly insanely turned on hearing Mr. Weaver talk like that. It was so hot hearing him grunt out like that as he fantasized about whoever he was fantasizing about - even hotter since he was stroking himself with my panties!

  His face was flushed and he was panting now, his hands stroking his cock up and down with my pink thong as he started to gasp. "Yeah honey, just like that; bounce on that big dick,” he moaned out.

  I squeezed my thighs together, biting my lip to keep from moaning as I clenched my core and felt my pussy lips sliding wetly together. I was hotter in that moment than I'd ever been before, just watching this hot older guy stroke his big dick, and before I could even stop myself, I'd brought my hand between my legs to cup my burning hot pussy. I slid my fingers up over the material, stroking the cleft of my slit through my bikini and feeling how hot and wet I was getting as I watched him.

  "Yeah honey, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna fill that tight little teenage pussy with cum," he grunted out.

  I froze for a moment, what?

  And then, Mr. Weaver started to gasp; "Oh fuck yeah, I'm gonna come, honey! You're gonna make me come Christina."

  I about fell over then, as I felt a throb of pure lust pulse through my little pussy as I bit down hard on my hand to keep from crying out.

  Tyler grunted, and suddenly his cock began to throb and twitch in his hands. With wide eyes, I watched in amazement as a thick, white rope of his cum came arching out of his cock as he groaned. I watched with awe-struck silence, my fingers furiously rubbing the outside of my bikini as his hands blurred up and down his shaft. More and more of it came squirting out of him to rain down on his hands, his thighs, his abs, and my panties.

  He dropped his hands, his chest rising and falling heavily as he gasped. He looked down then and swore as he hastily pulled my now cum-soaked panties from his cock. He swore again and started to stand, when suddenly, my cellphone started to go off down the hall in the kitchen; loudly.

  Mr. Weaver, who very clearly thought I was still out by the pool, gasped and jumped to his feet. I felt my heart jump into my throat as I went scurrying down the hallway as fast as I could, darting into the downstairs bathroom and shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible just as I heard him open the door to his study.

  "Uh, Christina?" He croaked out. I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror; my eyes wide, my face bright red, and my nipples standing out like to hard little pebbles in the top of my bikini.

  "Christina?" Tyler said again, louder and with a bit less shake to his voice.

  I finally swallowed thickly and forced myself to open my mouth; "Just in the bathroom!" I quickly reached over and flushed the toilet.

  I heard him swear quietly again, and then footsteps in the hallway; towards where I was and then quickly away, before I heard his office door firmly shut. I counted to ten, running cold water in the sink and splashing it on my face, before I gathered my wits and slowly opened the bathroom door.

  The first thing I noticed was that my clothes were back on the chair at the kitchen table, as if they'd never moved at all. I bit my lip, feeling flushed, stunned, and totally turned on by what I'd just witnessed as I went to gather them to change out of my bikini. But then, as shocked as I already was, I saw something that ignited that fire inside of me into a full-on blaze.

  There, tucked back into my clothes, as if they hadn't just been wrapped tightly around Mr. Weaver's big cock, were my pink panties. And though he'd done his best to wipe it off, I could still see the big dark wet spots of his cum all over them.

  *****

  I’d gone back to the bathroom to change, and it’d taken every restraint in my body not to masturbate right there in his house. Pulling my panties back up with his cum still on them, and feeling the stickiness press hot against my bare pussy had had me almost moaning there in the bathroom, and I’d forced myself to finish changing and leave. I called out a cheery “goodbye” through his closed office door, trying to keep my voice as light as possible as if I hadn't just watched my hunky older neighbor jerk off with my panties.

  As if I wasn’t walking out with a load of his cum soaked into my panties and slipping wetly against my pussy.

  �
��Okay, thanks!” He’d called back, though he didn’t open the door.

  I could barely leave fast enough after that, speed-walking all the way back to my house. And it was the second I got to my bedroom back home, that I was moaning into my pillow as I rubbed the panties soaked with Mr. Weaver’s cum all over my tight little pussy. I came like a firecracker, just thinking of his big, beautiful cock, and thinking of nothing else than how I was going to get to see it again.

  I wanted to call Anna and tell her everything that had happened, but I just couldn’t. And I felt weirdly selfish about that, since we shared everything, but there was just something extra dirty about all this that made me want to keep it inside like this delicious little secret.

  Chapter 5

  Tyler

  You fucking idiot.

  It was like staring at the sun. You knew it was wrong, and dangerous, but you just could fucking help it. That’s how I felt when I’d heard the splash and looked out my window to see Christina fucking Ames pulling herself out of my pool wearing this tiny little white bikini. Water trickled over her flawless young body, her tight, round little ass swaying as she moved towards the lawn chair and the towel there, and her nipples pushing hard at the front of her bikini.

  Jesus Christ.

  My cock was hard in seconds, even aware as I was at how much of a creeper I was standing there in my office peeping out through the closed shades at this barely legal jailbait. But like I said, it couldn’t be helped.

  I knew it was wrong as hell to be thinking about her like I was, but fuck was this girl perfect. She was gorgeous, and sexy in a way that was clear she wasn’t fully aware of yet. But Jesus, she was too young; way too young for me to be staring at like this with all the hunger and want that came with it. She was off-limits, I mean shit, I knew her parents for fuck’s sake; she worked for me.

  But I’m just a man, and it’d been a long time.

  …At least, that’s how I tried to rationalize it as I tore my eyes away from the backyard and headed and headed to the kitchen to get a drink and clear my head.

  ‘I’ve already started on the living room.’

  I groaned as I remembered those words, and suddenly ran to the living room. I blew air out through my lips. Thank God, the laptop I’d been browsing porn with the night before was still there, still closed. Yeah, that would’ve gotten awkward real fast if she’d busted me with pictures of girls her age all over my computer.

  I ran my hand through my dark hair, catching my reflection in the hallway mirror. Yeah, I was getting older, but I was still in great shape, and I still had the smile that’d helped push the band into the spotlight. The “bad boy guitar player you’d just love to make some mistakes with,” I believe the cute Rolling Stone reporter had written in her expose piece about our second U.S. tour.

  The cute reporter who I’d definitely fucked in the back of tour bus, I might add.

  But that’d been a long time ago, before Rebecca and before I’d settled down. Before my hair was starting to get a little silver at the temples, I grumbled into the mirror.

  I moved into the kitchen, and instantly felt the same throb of need in my cock as I glanced out the windows into the glassed-in pool in the backyard. Christina was still out there, only now she was strewn out across a lawn chair, her long supple body stretched out, her eyes closed, and the sun glistening off the water droplets cascaded across her perfect little body.

  Jesus Christ, I needed to get a grip. I was forty years old, for fuck’s sake. I was old enough to be this girl’s damn father, and here I was lusting after her like a fucking creep.

  It’s like staring at the sun.

  And I couldn’t look away. I stood there at the island kitchen, sipping coffee and feeling my cock get harder and harder in my shorts as I let my eyes roam over the off-limits, barley legal girl lounging by my pool. I imagined slipping those tiny bikini bottoms off her body and letting my tongue trail up her thighs. I groaned as I imagined pushing my tongue deep into her teen pussy to taste that honey sweetness. I pictured her soft little mouth opening as she knelt at my feet, her innocent pink lips wrapping around my cock.

  I imagined bending her over, holding her by the hips and slowly burying every inch of my cock inside that tight little pussy. I imagined taking her hard, and making her come like she’d never come before. And I imagined emptying every single drop of my cum inside her.

  I growled to myself as I tore myself out of the fantasy, realizing I was standing there in the kitchen with my cock hard as stone in my shorts.

  Just go back upstairs, get back to work, and forget that she’s even-

  And that’s when I saw them. The clothes she’d changed out of were crumpled in a ball next to her purse on one of the kitchen table chairs. And right there, on the top, was a flash of pink.

  Her panties.

  They were in my hand before I even knew what the fuck I was doing, my pulse pounding like a damn diesel engine as I let my fingers slip over the tiny little pink thong. I brought them to my nose as I stared out the window at her, feeling my cock lurch as I inhaled the scent of her. And fuck did I want more. I wanted to bury my face in her pussy and inhale that scent, and taste it on my tongue.

  And that’s the thinking that had me doing what I did.

  Like I said, it was like staring at the sun, and I couldn’t look away if I fucking tried.

  I was moving down the hall back towards my office in a second, dumping her clothes on the chair there in the hallway before I slipped into my office, her panties in my hand. My rock-hard cock was out in seconds, and I groaned as I wrapped my hand around it and started to stroke.

  I closed my eyes, and it was her hand on my dick; her young, soft hand stroking my cock. It was wrong as hell to be thinking it, but that only fueled the fire. Because I knew how off-limits she was, and how fucking filthy it was to be imagining this tight little soon-to-be college girl that way. But the deeper I got into picturing her like that, the harder I got and the tighter my balls got.

  I imagined taking her; claiming her and making her mine. I groaned as stroked my cock, imaging her climbing into my lap, straddling me, and sinking that impossibly tight little barely legal pussy down on my dick. I brought the thong away from my face and wrapped it around my trembling erection, growling at the way the soft little lacy cotton felt sliding over my cock. I could feel the cum boiling in my balls, could feel my muscles bunching as I raced towards the inevitable.

  Oh, please fuck my little pussy, Mr. Weaver!

  That’s all it took. Imagining sweet little innocent, barely legal Christina Ames begging for my cock send me right over the edge, and I groaned as the cum came rocketing out of my cock. I moaned and kept stroking, just picturing her cunt wrapped tight around my cock as I emptied my balls inside of her until I collapse back in the chair.

  Holy shit.

  It was only then that I glanced down and winced. Fuck. There was cum all over her fucking panties. Like, coating them. I swore to myself, when I suddenly heard a cellphone that definitely wasn’t mine go off loud in the kitchen down the hall.

  I jolted from my chair, my heart racing. “Christina?”

  The house was silent but for the pulse roaring in my ears. I swore again as I grabbed tissues from my desk and started to try and wipe the cum from her panties as I yanked my pants up. I stuck my head out the office door. “Christina?”

  I heard the toilette flush in the bathroom by the kitchen flush, and I swore again as I madly wiped at the sticky jizz all over her panties.

  Fuck, she won’t notice.

  Right?