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The school I went to was a catholic girl’s school. Don’t navigate away; this isn’t one of those ‘convent girl gone bad’ stories. This the true story of my first orgasm.
I was 18 years old, and hopelessly innocent. Of course, I thought I was street wise. I was one of those that gives it all the gob, tales of all the boys I’d kissed, flirting shamelessly with male teachers, and just general cocky behaviour. The truth was I was a total fucking virgin! I’d kissed one bloke, a waiter on holiday in Gran Canaria.
In my last year at the school, as part of my A level geography, we went on a field trip to Wales. It wasn’t a big school so there were only about 5 of us plus the teacher that went. Monday to Friday in rainy Wales. To be honest, I didn’t mind it- I enjoyed the time with my mates. My geography teacher was alright too. Mrs Weston. She was about, ooh, mid forties? She was the sort that didn’t look stunning for her age or anything, but looked after herself, made the best of herself. She used to say some wildly inappropriate things now and then and shock us all. I can’t explain it really, not in an overt way; there was just always an undertone to glean from her. She gave the impression that she and her husband were, how shall I put this? – Quite fulfilled! I was quite a developed young lady, and the number of times she’d scolded me for wearing a black bra that was clearly visible through my white blouse- the once she mockingly said she’d remove it herself if I wore it again! I enjoyed a bit of trouble though, and enjoyed the attention. God, if I had to teach me as I was then, I’d have hated me.
So anyway, there we all were in rainy Wales. We had a good laugh, and it was nice to be in a less formal environment as a class. I wasn’t very happy with my home life at the time, so the little ‘family’ we became that week was really nice.
We were out all day every day hiking up hills and measuring river depths so even though my friend Anna and I were sharing a room, we were sleeping really well. Except for the Thursday night when Anna was poorly. After our dinner that night, she’d gone to lie down straight away instead of sitting round with us watching TV as normal, saying she had a headache. When we all went up for bed, she was crying, saying she felt so ill. Mrs Weston diagnosed that she thought it was a migraine and gave her a bit of a love, then told us to get some sleep. We settled down and had a brief chat, before I drifted off into a shallow sleep and reflective dreams.
I can’t have been asleep that long before I was awoken again by Anna. She was really crying and wailing now, saying she’d never felt so ill. kocaeli escort I felt really awkward, but I had to go and knock on Mrs Weston’s bedroom door. It took her a few moments to answer although I couldn’t fathom why. The room was tiny and it wasn’t like she was the ‘old’ sort who would have taken time just to get up off the bed. Anyway, she answered, looking a bit tousled and flushed, but came to our room see Anna. After a bit of bustle, checking the consent forms that our parents had had to sign, she administered some paracetamol.
We settled down again, but I couldn’t sleep because Anna kept whimpering as if she was still in pain. I asked her if I needed to get Mrs Weston again, and she replied with a faint ‘Yes’. When I knocked Mrs Weston’s door, she answered quicker this time. When I followed her into my room though, Anna was fast asleep.
“She must have just been drifting off”, said Mrs Weston, feeling Anna’s forehead, “Yeah, she’ll be fine after a good sleep.”
I was apologetic for disturbing her again but she said it didn’t matter, and as I was about to climb into bed she said, “Come to my room for a bit. We can have a chat while Anna goes off properly.”
I felt a little strange about the proposition, but couldn’t really say no, so I ended up sat on her bed while she faced me on the dressing table stool, suddenly very aware that I had no knickers on under my nightie! I know that sounds CRAZY, but I was 18, a virgin, and an extremely insecure youth. All I could think was ‘How the hell did I end up on my teacher’s bed with no knickers on?’ In my sheltered little existence that was as rude as it got!
Mrs Weston nattered away about what we’d been doing this week and how we must have all got some great ideas for our coursework etc… She poured me a tumbler of water and offered me some of the grapes that she had on the dressing table. I don’t know how the conversation turned, but I found instead of nodding along about geography, I was now nodding along about what university she’d attended, and how she’d met her husband there. And then she just asked me, straight out, “Holly, are you a virgin?”
I had been peering down into my tumbler of water, but I now lifted my head and looked at her in surprise. I said nothing.
“Oh come on Holly, ‘we’re all girls together’ as they say!”
“Yes”, I admitted after a few seconds silence.
She smiled, “I thought so”.
“Why are you asking me that?” I was looking back down at my tumbler again, embarrassed to admit my lack of experience despite all the bravado she had no doubt heard me boast to my mates.
“I couldn’t help but wonder that’s all. kocaeli escort bayan You tell all your friends about the boys you’ve kissed and that, but you don’t really seem the sort. Have you even kissed a boy?” She was bordering on patronizing now.
“Yes” I snapped back defensively, “I have ACTUALLY.”
She raised an eyebrow, “Okay, sorry I asked.”
We sat in silence. It seemed like hours went by although it can only have been a minute or two at the most. What the hell could either of us say now?! How did the conversation progress from here?!
“I suppose we’d better get some sleep then”, she sighed, breaking the silence, “Unless…”
I was longing to get away from this awkward scenario, but the ‘unless’ held me there unable to escape. Mrs Weston stood up and made a movement that suggested I do the same. When I was stood up, desperately trying to avoid eye contact, she stepped forward toward me, much closer than I felt comfortable with.
“Let me give you something to help you sleep.”
Her hands found the hem of my nightie and gently lifted it, her hands touching skin that had never been touched like this before. I jumped a little in surprise at what she was doing, but didn’t try to stop her. The nightie was lifted over my head and discarded on the floor. There I stood, naked in front of Mrs Weston. She placed an affectionate hand on my arm as I gazed at the floor, looking for any sign that it might imminently open and swallow me like I wished it would.
“I know you’re nervous. Just relax, you’ll love it.”
She manoeuvred me onto the bed and I lay down while she fished around in the draw. My mind raced about what could be about to happen. She came back to the bed, having sought what she had been looking for, and sat near my legs. She smiled at me and I felt a little reassured, though I can’t deny my heart was beating faster than ever before.
I was able to see now what it was she’d gotten. At the time I really honestly had no idea what it was, and absolutely no idea what she could possibly do with it. I know now what it was of course; one of those vibrators that swirls inside of you while a little extension stimulates your clit. She effortlessly hopped up onto the bed and settled herself, kneeling, between my now parted legs.
“I’m going to kiss you now”, she said softly, and leaning over me on all fours, did just that. It was a soft kiss, gentle and soothing. Her hand cupped my breast and she moved her face downwards and kissed each nipple. Then she knelt back up again. The so far unused vibrator lay beside us on the bed, and with a smile she picked it up.
Okay, I izmit escort was a virgin, but I knew the science behind this. I might have been a bit on the slow side working it out, but it suddenly became clear where that large pink ‘thing’, which Mrs Weston was now moistening in her mouth, was going to go. I must have displayed the sudden fear on my face, because she put her hand on my thigh and in her reassuring tone again, said, “Just keep breathing and relax.”
She ran a single finger down my pussy lips. It slid easily from my clit down to my tight entrance, which was well lubricated from my virginal excitement. She pushed her finger inside me and despite my nerves it felt heavenly. My body had never been awakened like those before. I’d touched myself a little in the past, but it had never stimulated me in the way she was now.
She nuzzled the bulbous end of the vibrator between my pussy lips and slowly eased it into me. It felt so enormous, but so good, every nerve in my body was crackling with pleasure.
“Okay?” she asked me.
I couldn’t reply but for a guttural “Uhhhhhh…hhh….”
I drew my knees up and I could feel her fingers touching me too. When she removed them, I was aware of something just pressing gently on my clit. And then something happened. The phallic object inside me began to swirl, and the presence on my clit began to vibrate. It was the most intense feeling my body had ever known and it took less than a minute before my body began to twitch uncontrollably. My back arched and my head rolled back in a pleasure that was almost unbearable.
“Oh God oh god oh god oh god ohhhhhhhhhhh…” I whimpered with this newfound sensation.
My orgasm receded and my body tried to relax, but Mrs Weston made no move to remove the vibrator from my body.
My body responded again very quickly. I felt so deliciously filthy, so blissfully wanton as I writhed on my teacher’s bed, building to my second orgasm. It came upon me harder and deeper feeling than the first, if that was was possible. My fingers grasped at the bedcover beneath me as my body tensed and my muscles spasmed.
Again, my body relaxed from the release and this time Mrs Weston withdrew the object that had given me such divine pleasure. As she did, my pussy made a mortifyingly sloppy noise and I felt my juices flow from inside me, trickling down my slit to my ass. I lay unable to move, entranced and paralysed by what had just happened.
Mrs Weston sat and looked at me for a few minutes, then picked my nightie up off the floor and handed it to me.
“Go on then Holly, you best get back to bed, it’s late.”
I reluctantly rose from the bed and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was tousled, and my face was flushed. Hmmm… Well, I knew now why it had taken Mrs Weston so long to answer the door that first time I had knocked!
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