‘To much of anything, is not good for you’.
Mr Sweeney owned the sweet shop, way across from the entrance of my finishing school, ‘Queens Gate’, an exclusive all Girls finishing school.
We knew boys and men were keen on snaring one of us for sex, as rumours abounded about our insatiable lusting and d**g abuse, non of which were true, just ‘Red Top’, chitter-chatter to sell papers, with page three exposing three sixteen year old girls topless, who just happened to be a year ahead of me.
The scandal was so bad all three were expelled, but as we all came from well to do families, they just jetted off to Switzerland, and had fun on the ski slopes.
Trouble was school was boring and predictable, and our soul mates became our lesbian lovers.
After lights out, we would slip into each others beds and have sex, a dorm full of heaving teenage girls giggling and licking with loud slurping noises, which takes me back to my opening line about,’To much and things like that’.
I was a tall gangly girl, long legged, and hence my nickname, ‘Filly’.
I knew Mr Sweeney was sweet on me, (No pun intended) and the row upon row of glass jars fill with candy of all shapes and colours, bedazzled me, as if I were a girl locked in a jewellers shop.
Being mid-teens and messed up hormonal wise, snaring someone like myself, gave a fantasy opportunity to a man in his sixties, and Mr Sweeney knew that, by locking the front door and turning the little card that read, ‘Closed, back soon’, then he would lead me into the back shop, where I would play the provincial naughty schoolgirl.
I just knew that little girls sucking a lolly had sexual cogitations, having discovered my fathers stash of girly magazines, and what some of the girls were doing with their lollies, I got hooked and sugar, and father got off watching me, hence my leaving home and boarding where I am, mother was non pleased seeing her daughter suck a lolly naked, and her husbands cock simultaneously.
Mother herself was a daddies girl, rich men seem to find it necessary to deflower their daughters, before leasing them into the big bad world, on some loveless merger they themselves, can gain from.
One of the girls who came from western isles of Scotland, called Ailsa, had one Saturday, stole into a sex shop with another girl and tried to steal a lifelike dong, but was caught and dragged into the back office while the police were called.
Both girls were allowed enough time to contemplate their situation, before being told the police were not called, and given an option to earn the dong, without prosecution.
Like myself and Mr Sweeney, the managers office door was locked, the girls stripped naked and had their combined six orifices probed, with as many men taking turns, in various combinations all the way up to triple penetration, and all bareback.
Both girls left the shop some six hours later, both carrying bags of sex toys, which we all paid for hire, Ailsa ran away from school, and lived in the sex shop, earning her keep in the cubicles with men wanting a schoolgirl hand-job.
When they eventually found her dishevelled body, she was a d**ggie with an insatiable sex addiction, and her dongs had gratified the pussies of hundreds of her former school’ girls, ‘Long Live Ailsa’, we all said at night, thankful of her sacrifice so we could hump her toys.
Bob was our night janitor, another pensioner chosen by the board of governors, his main attribute being he was sexless and could not raise one, even if all the girls stood naked and begged.
Well one night I found this to be a lie, as I stumbled in on Bob having his cock sucked in the toilet, and he was hard, but his sucker was a first former, barely into double digits age wise, his secret was he like them young, and as I stood and watched this girl struggle with his circumference in her stretched mouth, I began to masturbate as Bob watched and thrust into her tiny mouth, poor girl gagged and choked, but true to form said nothing, as we all did.
It was Bob who introduced me to Mr Sweeney, that’s why I had to tell you about his dalliance with first formers.
‘I want to stock take today’, he said as he turned from the front door after locking it, turning the sign, and pulling the blind down that covered the glass pane in the door.
‘Shall I take my uniform off sir’?
‘Not unless you want to get it dirty girl’, he would reply, and I would slowly undress, folding each article of clothing neatly and putting them into neat bundle, with my panties folded outside in and the crotch uppermost, I loved it and thrilled watching him bury his nose into the soft cotton gusset and draw in deeply my scents from my secretions from deep within my vagina.
‘I can smell you’re in heat’, he would say as I scurried up the ladder to the top shelve, in pretence of stock taking, out of his reach as he stood at the foot of the ladder looking up at my mid teenage crotch, swelling and wetting, as I put a foot our from the ladder and rested it onto a shelf, to afford him a beautiful and unobtrusive view.
I could feel the vibrations course though the ladder as I held onto it.
I knew he was stroking his cock, in anticipation of me to sliding down the ladder and landing onto it, with my thighs bent outwards, either side of the ladder, to accommodate for his lack of height, my body pressed hard into the ladder, as he humped me and pumped his weekly seminal allowance into my snatch, making allowance for my own orgasm, I sometimes think he used cement instead of Viagra.
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