“Your cock, Davies, why is it not pointing downwards like most boys?”I think Mr. Roberts knew the answer to that. “I don’t know, Sir.”“I t...ink you would like something hotter up your bottom, Davies. Is that true?”Mr. Roberts’ voice was sultry; bordering on sheer perverseness.I nodded, “Yes, Sir,” without actually knowing what he meant. Though I guessed pretty much what he was intending on doing. I heard shuffling behind me and before long I felt a spongy bulbous head press against me. His hands. "Damn girl, you're tight. You sure you been fucked before?" I was concentrating too hard to answer, instead focusing my attention on letting him push deeper. Which, thank God, he did. Making short, but sure, progress he pushed deeper and deeper, pausing only to let me catch my breath. 

"How does that feel?" Words went through my mind - impossible, perfect, complete - but all I could do was moan approvingly. And with that I felt him pull back until only his head remained inside of me, pause for. "There was a long silence before she added, "When did you start?" I don't remember. Some older boys on my block showed me what to do. They had a place we would go in the cellar of their building with a big easy-chair. We took turns watching each other and talking about it. We even invited the girls to watch us one day. I’ve been hooked ever since.”The DealI liked talking about sex with Susan. It was totally harmless, and I was feeling pleasantly aroused. I sensed that Susan was too and that she. His hand pinches at my nipples as he caresses my body and curves. I am scared but strangely aroused, as I do not resist. He pushes me to the wall while his lips meet the nape of my neck, kissing across my soft flesh, I shiver and my body has goose bumps. As he gets rougher with his movements, he grabs my hair pushing my face across the wall, his free hand rubbing at my back and arse. He continues across my flesh, his lips dancing as he rips at my skirt. I have no control but feel the wetness in.