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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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“Touch me” I said. Hesitantly he raised his hand but made no further movement it just hovered their between us, I saw him swallowing hard and he stammered,
“I…I don’t…I don’t know what to do”
“Let me help you”
I smiled at him but he had looked down at his feet out of embarrassment I guessed, I thought it was a sweet gesture, that or he was a really good actor. I reached out my hand and gently stroked his out turned palm, I expected it to be damp with sweat but it was blissfully dry and warm. He risked a quick glance at my face and I pulled his hand toward my breasts. I felt his whole arm freeze for a moment as we connected. I held his hand on my breast and with my free hand lifted his chin so I could look into his eyes.
“How does that feel?”
“Good, it feels good” his eyes were wide with what I hoped was wonder.
“You can move your fingers. Touch me” his inexperienced fingers instantly began a mashing, kneading motion that frankly wasn’t good.
“Gently, gently, caress and stroke the skin slowly” I whispered in his ear. I took the opportunity to run my hand over his flat stomach and very quickly over the hardened front of his jeans.
‘Ah the potency of youth’ I thought, ‘No finesse but plenty of stamina.’
I should explain what’s going on here. My name isn’t important nor is the young man’s who’s currently fumbling around my cleavage. He’s of legal age, I’m not a pervert, well that’s not strictly true but I’m sure you follow me. I work in an Gallery again the name of it is unimportant suffice it to say we get quite a few students through our doors and most of them are pretty much what you’d expect from art students. Sometimes though we get something special, today was one of those days. I was guiding a group of school children around the gallery and I caught my first glimpse of the man in question, he was stood, staring in deep thought at one of the more modern photographic pieces, it portrays a young woman in her underwear seemingly floating in mid-air. You can’t see her face but she has a very well-toned body and white cotton panties (don’t you boys like those?).
He struck me as handsome in a geekish sort of way. I put him and the picture out of mind and continued my tour with the kids. Once I’d completed my tour and stopped for a quick drink and tiddle break, I had a walk around the gallery as the little darlings tend to drop wrappers, pens and God knows what all over the place. There he was, still staring at the same picture. ‘Odd’ I thought but not that unusual some of the arty types will spend hours studying one picture. As I walked passed him he stepped back suddenly and stepping on my foot, mid stride, sent me sprawling to the floor.
He was very apologetic and stooped to help me up with a concerned frown on his face. He was I would say about twenty at a push twenty five. Up close he was better looking than I had previously thought. I’ll be honest I’m twice his age but even though I’ve filled out a little I’ve still got a nice figure and great tits, even if I do say so myself. Natural mind you, not enhanced.
“I’m very sorry” he said “I didn’t see you at all”
“It’s fine really, I don’t think I’m hurt” I answered and flashed him a cheeky smile. I wasn’t fine my bloody toes were killing me. As I stood I brought forth my biggest saddest eyes and stumbled ever so slightly so He once more had to catch me, this time I was positioned so I was actually in his arms and chest was pushing into his. I’m not sure if he could feel them but my nipples were aroused and hard.
‘Damsel in distress time’ I thought.
“Oh!” I gasped “Could you help me back to the office, I think I might have twisted my ankle after all”
“Of course” he answered “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just really clumsy” With remarkable alacrity for one with a twisted ankle we made it the office and I sat myself down and made a feeble effort of rubbing my ankle.
“I’m sorry” I said, “Would you mind?” I pointed at my ankle and slightly raised up my leg.
“Oh no, no, anything to help” he crouched by my feet and gingerly he took my leg in his hands. His fingers massaged my ankle gently. In an effort to help I moved myself slightly and revealed a little more of my leg and the tops of my stockings (Hold ups today as I wasn’t expecting any shenanigans, still better than tights). My skirt was reasonably tight so without actually hitching it right up there was no way I would be able to give him a flash of my knickers. After a few minutes of restorative caressing he spoke again,
“Is that better, do you think you can walk on it?” I stood up and very briefly thought about falling again but decided against it, instead I limped towards him and steadying myself on his shoulder, tested my ankle. I’ll never win prizes for my acting that’s for certain.
“Thank you” I said,
“It seems much better, you must have magic fingers” he chuckled at my inane joke.
“Can I see” he looked at puzzled at this request, so I reached out and took hold of one of his hand and lifted up in front of my face I traced around his fingers with my own and before he could object I moved his hand to my mouth and encased his fore finger in my warm mouth. I sucked softly for a moment and then opening my lips I licked as seductively as possible the tip. ‘Success’ I thought as I watched his eyes widen and his jaw drop. “Help with this” I said as I began to unbutton my blouse. He stammered an unintelligible response but did as he was asked.
I was wearing a standard ‘work’ bra but it was white and had some nice lace trim so it didn’t look too bad. I reached up to cradle his face in my hands and kissed him, he responded in kind and I could feel him stiffening. He pulled away after a few moments and spoke,
“I…can’t…I’ve…I’ve…never…” he blushed at the admission. |
