Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: Part 3.
I got home and tramped up to my bedroom, dumping my satchel in the corner. On the dressing table, by the meagre collection of cosmetics lay my sixth form senior prefect's badge I'd though I'd lost; obviously mum had found it somewhere. And the cosmetics: I was only allowed to wear on Saturday during term time. I removed my blazer and hung it up on the coathook on the door. With still an hour before mum gets home, there was something I needed to do. I took off my sandals and laid on top of the bed covers. I pulled up my summer dress and placed my hand on my navy knickered tummy. I looked up at the ceiling's peeling paint briefly as my hands slipped downwards. I closed my eyes and thought back to that first orgasm. The shelter swam into my mind's eye. I remember him entering the shelter for our third meeting in April. He was five and a half feet tall with a ruddy complexion and a balding pate with a hook nose. He shuffled in wearing a gaberdine coat and sat down. He had asked whether I would like to carry on from where we had left off. I nodded and jumped up and waited for him to unbutton his coat. He folded it and put it on the seat. I turned round to face the sea and sat back on his lap; he pulled the pleats of the school pinafore up so my navy knickered bottom contacted his rather worn grey trousers directly, with a definite, small, hard bump underneath. His hands felt round to my left waist and found the pinafore's zip under my arm. With a little tug, I felt the zip open slowly and carefully downwards until it reached the end stop, just above where the pleated section of the pinafore began. He looked round into the pinafore's open zip briefly at the visible blouse tucked into the regulation knickers. He sat back and his gnarled hand snaked into the gap of the zip. It slowly moved down over the materials, pausing just before the mound and then onto it. I felt that now familiar jolt of electricity as a finger pressed onto the covered slit. I made a little gasp then, as I did now, my hands mirroring what his had done. Slowly he began to rub. I opened my legs and wrapped my feet under his shins. I felt the stubble on his face scratch my ear and neck under my bob. His breathing was slightly wheezy with the unmistakeable smell of cigarettes. An older couple walked past as the pinafore pleats slowly moved in time with the hand underneath. As one of them looked in, the movement below stopped, and then began again a few moments later. Almost automatically I began to move against his hand with every stroke, feeling his cock between my knickered bottom cheeks. The nagging, almost aching feeling growing, down inside. My breathing became unsteady. He pulled up his hand back off my mound, up to the waistband and slipped it underneath, the knuckles sliding under the knicker material and pushing back down between it and the tucked-in blouse; pausing to pull it up slightly and then onto bare skin! His calloused fingers swept up onto the mound and one slipped into the moistness; a finger venturing downwards into much more wetness and then dragging it backwards right to the top of the slit. I gasped loudly which echoed around the shelter. I felt the hot wetness spread over the mound as he moved his fingers. I began to move my hips again, almost feeling the thick rough sections of each of his fingers. He began to change the rhythm by circling slowly. I began to feel hot. The pleasurable nagging feeling getting worse; and then again as he began to quicken the pace; His fingers now thrusting downward repeatedly, the roughness intensifying the feelings. I wondered how nice it was going to get before it stopped. Before I had time to think, I felt pressure building down below right inside my tummy, as muscles began to tense as never before. I started to be get alarmed! I pulled up the hem of the pinafore to see the knuckles moving rhythmically under the stretching knickers. I quickly held my hands over his, to try and stop him moving them. I failed, my hands simply jiggling over his. Wide eyed with panic, I exclaimed out loud that something was happening. He reassured me that what was happening, was supposed to happen. My hands let go and flailed, uselessly. I leant back against him. My face began to contort. The feeling began to build even more and the last thing I can remember hearing was the loud sound of his finger rubbing frenetically against my soaking wet crutch, before the huge wave of ecstacy of my first orgasm hit and swept me away; out of the shelter; out of reality and into the deepest pit of pleasure; the sudden, unexpected hard clamping spasms of my uterus and vagina, wrenching my body into a infinite knot.The spasms subsided. and we both relaxed. Finally I had to move. I stood up and pulled my hem down. I felt something on my bottom, then I felt it, something slightly wet. I looked down at his lap to find his flies open and his cock sticking out, with a wet stain all over his trouser flies. He smiled. I smiled back. As he replaced his cock into the stained trousers, the shelter began to fade.I opened my eyes to the peeling paint of the ceiling of my bedroom, the twitching spasms still subsiding. I was sorry not to continue with Eric, he seemed like a nice man. I heard a key in the lock downstairs so I pulled my knickers up and jumped off the bed, dashing into the bathroom to wash my hands thoroughly. A voice enquired up the stairs as to where I was. I shouted back my location, dried my hands and made my way downstairs....to be continued.