Where it happened: Father's friend's house
Langauge: English
Sex: Female
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
I was a lively and somewhat rebellious girl when I was sixteen. I was shorter than most of the girls and had dark hair and dark eyes.
I went out most nights, hanging around with groups of lads and girls down the park, and I think lots of people assumed I was sexually active at that time. But I wasn’t. Far from it.
I had no interest in boys of my own age. I thought I was “sassy” and streetwise, whereas the boys just rode bicycles and talked about football.
But I could never pull any older boys. I would often go to pubs and clubs with my friend Chloe, but because we are both about five foot four inches, all the men thought we were “jail bait” and wouldn’t come on to us at all.
Then one Saturday afternoon I was down at the recreation ground and it seemed that no one was going to turn up. I was bored and alone. Fortunately a lad called Nicko turned up. He was a blonde kid that always seemed to be the joker amongst this gang of lads.
As we were the only two there, we chatted, fooled around, and he made me laugh. Suddenly there was a silence in our conversation. So totally out of the blue Nicko suddenly said: “Let’s go back to my house. No one’s in, so I could take you upstairs to my room and finger you.”
I was gobsmacked to say the least. But with his cheery face still beaming, he explained that he was really good at it. He claimed that his older sister had been making him finger her ever since she was sixteen, and he’d perfected an amazing technique.
I still think to this day that he invented the “sister” thing just to shock me, but anyway, in one of those crazy youthful days, I went to the house of this boy I hardly knew.
I was nervous, so he gave me some cider and took me to his room. I remember it all so vividly. He tried to get my jeans off me, but they were too tight. I wriggled out of them myself, and sat on the edge of the bed feeling a bit foolish wearing just my knickers and a T shirt.
He paid me all sorts of compliments, eased me back on to the bed, gently removed my knickers, and parted my thighs.
I was fearing that he would jab his fingers into me. I’d heard so many painful stories in the school yard from girls who’d been roughly pawed and mauled by over eager boys.
But the good news is that Nicko was true to his word. He started by licking and sucking at my pussy. The combination of his saliva and my own juices must have done the trick, because when he finally slid a tentative finger into me, there was no resistance, no pain, just shear pleasure.
From then on, I was in pure heaven for what seemed like hours. After the first orgasm I went into an ecstatic trance-like state. By the time he had finished on me, I was naked and sweaty, my nipples were slightly sore, and I had been having orgasms, each one seemingly better than the previous one.
I think I probably couldn’t take any more, so it was almost with relief when I opened my eyes to see Nicko hovering over me with his tool in his hand.
He said something really cute, like: “I hope you don’t mind, but it’s my go now.” He splashed his cum over my body and then sat back admiring me, stroking various parts of my body with his hands.
I felt kind of bad that I’d done nothing for him, whilst he’d sent me to heaven and back. He brushed this off, saying that there wasn’t a single bloke in school that wouldn’t swap places with him.
Of course, that wasn’t full sex. That was to come. When I got home from Nicko’s house I immediately started my period, which had been overdue.
A month later, I was overdue again, and feeling a bit uncomfortable with it. I then cooked up my plan.
I telephoned a friend of my parents. He was a practicing dermatologist, but I knew that he’d been a GP in his earlier career.
This all seems quite daring now. But at that time of my life I knew no fear. I asked him over the phone if I could come and see him over something embarrassing. I didn’t want to tell my parents about it, and I didn’t want to see my own doctor, because she was horrible at the best of times, and I couldn’t face her with this sort of condition.
He agreed to see me for a confidential meeting on Saturday afternoon. My scheming knew no ends.
The Friday evening before my appointment, I sought out Nicko and took him around the back of the building for a “snog”. Needless to say, he pulled my boobs out within seconds and was soon subjecting them to a rather brutal regime of pawing, licking, sucking and biting.
Much as this boy was practised in the art of stimulating a vagina, he had much to learn about how to treat a girl’s breasts.
On Saturday I turned up for my covert meeting with the dermatologist. I explained my embarrassment. I had done no more than heavy petting with my boyfriend, yet it seemed to leave the skin on my breasts in a dreadful state.
Having spoken, I stared down at my shoes in what I felt was the gesture of a shy teenager, and not the terrible little strumpet that I really was.
He gestured to me to show him. I was wearing a white blouse, which I undid as I sat on his visitor’s chair. I then fumbled a bit with the clasp at the back of my bra as though I was having trouble, and said meekly: “I’m sorry, but could you help me please?”
It was his calm adult authority that had always turned me on, and with no hint of nervousness he simply walked behind me, unhooked the bra, and returned to his own seat.
Just the touch of his hands on the middle of my back was like a life force to my awakening body.
After I discarded the bra he examined my breasts briefly and without touching them. He swiftly examined bite marks and scratches and red blotches that decorated my bust and simply commented that my boyfriend needed to be a bit more careful. He said that for peace of mind he would take a swab from my sore areas but he was fairly certain that my skin was suffering no unusual or allergic reaction in what had obviously been a rather frenzied encounter.
Again, I can’t quite describe the almost volcanic reaction that my body went through when this huge figure of authority took hold of one bare breast and then the other in order to wipe it with a small swab.
He had his back to me when he uttered those inevitable words: “Is there anything else that’s bothering you?”
Doctors know full well that we will go to them with one simple ailment when really we’d like to talk to them about something more troubling. My saw tits were hardly a life threatening condition, so he was searching for why I had really gone there.
I blurted out that I was late with my period. He asked if I was sexually active and told him I was still a virgin, which was the truth. He said that in that case my late period was nothing to worry about.
Then I made my big move. I told him about the boy that had fingered me, and that this had triggered off my period the last time.
The poor fellow didn’t know where to look. I could see that he wasn’t rising to my rather useless bait. So I’m afraid I laid it on the line like a desperate young tart.
I hadn’t bothered to replace my bra or shirt, so he found himself talking to a bare chested woman. My skirt was a short kilt, which was fastened at the side by a large safety pin. Only I had fastened it such that as I sat there, it fell open to reveal almost an entire thigh.
I could scarcely believe my own mouth as I asked him to finger me.
After a silence which frightened me, and a smile which reassured me, he motioned me onto his couch, had me lie down on my back, pulled down my knickers, and set about his work.
I’d read before about how a doctor can have strong yet sensitive fingers. I had always thought that this might me a load of Mills & Boon rubbish, but certainly in his case, it was true.
He was much bolder than Nicko and been, invading me forcibly with one, two and at one point even three big thick fingers. Each entry was a shock, but a shock which signalled some new pleasure, some new sensation, and occasionally the onset of another orgasm.
I was responding to him with even more enthusiasm than I had to Nicko, and was beginning to think I might be some kind of easy slut. However, subsequent experience has taught me that I had stumbled upon two of the most skilled men I would ever encounter. I just needed to be grateful.
Another way that this man’s technique differed from Nicko’s, was that it was only when I was thoroughly warmed up and wet that he went down on me with his head. The effect was like electricity itself. I bounced up off the couch as though I’d need to be peeled off the ceiling, and the good doctor had to pin me down with one arm across my stomach in order to carry on with his expert licking and sucking.
I must have almost crushed his head between my thighs as I vainly tried to stop him driving me to the very edge.
After spending ages on the couch, sometimes being pleasured to the point where I thought I’d pass out, I remembered how matters had concluded with Nicko.
I lifted up onto my elbows and saw, as expected, that the doctor was concealing a big hard on in his trousers.
I reached out and grabbed the boner through the cloth of his suit. I had him sit down on the couch, removed his hard on, and began to suck away.
I’d had no training in this sort of thing, but I don’t think I needed any on this occasion. Looking at it from his point of view, I guess that a man who’s spent half the afternoon grappling with a very compliant teenager’s nude body, and then finds his cock in that teenager’s mouth, will not require that much stimulation.
Sure enough it was only a matter of seconds when, for the first time that day, he seemed to look after his own pleasure rather than mine. He pulled my head over his cock. I was already coughing up saliva and gagging slightly when it happened. Much as a girl is prepared for this, it’s impossible for your throat not to be shocked by the sudden spurts of warm semen.
I was mortified, to be honest. I had wanted to reward him with the expert attentions of a sophisticated young beauty that would suck him like a high class whore and drink down his spunk like a grateful harlot.
Instead, I was just some naked retching teenager, down on all fours coughing up a mixture of spit and semen onto his consulting room floor.
He helped me up and put me onto the chair and sat me down. He wiped my face with several wipes, and kissed me tenderly on the head.
We each cancelled our plans that night, so that he could walk me to an American diner just around the corner from his rooms. We sat and talked on a leather couch in a relatively quiet corner of the bustling joint. I can remember thinking as customers came and went that people would assume we were a father and daughter combination. Despite the intense intimacy that had gone on between us just minutes before, we were now afraid to even touch each other.
After we’d each had two cocktails we were both thinking that neither of us wanted to eat. Maybe a bottle of wine? I went off to the toilets whilst he studied the drinks menu. When I came out of the toilets I could see him across the room. He put down his drinks menu and watched me every inch of the way as I crossed the room.
Well, I have been told that I’m “a bit of a stunner for a short lass”, and there’s no doubt that my short kilt and tight white blouse had been selected as a bit of a turn-on, but the way his eyes bored into me was as unnerving as it was flattering.
I sat down next to him and caught him looking down at my breasts. He saw that I could see him staring and quickly apologised. I laughed at him gently: “That’s not the worst thing you’ve done today Doctor. I’ve got a sizeable glob of your semen in my stomach right now.”
He chuckled a bit and then with a coarseness I will never forget, he looked at me and said in that oh-so-professional voice of honeyed tones: “I’m going to take you home and fuck your arse off.”
I lifted my hand in a gesture that he should lead me. To say that I had butterflies in my stomach would be a massive understatement. The mixture of excitement, expectation and terror nearly caused me to collapse right there outside on the pavement.
The walk to his place was mercifully short, and I only made it by clinging onto his arm. Once back inside his house I stumbled into his lounge where I found one of those old fashioned drinks tables like you used to see in middle-class sitcoms.
I poured a ridiculously large measure of whiskey and glugged away at it greedily, wanting these nerves to leave me.
He came in silently, poured himself a much smaller whiskey, told me not to be nervous, and took me to the couch. I think he wanted to be patient with me, but his feelings overcame him.
After a brief few seconds of kissing and petting, I suddenly found myself flung onto my back, hands tore at my clothes, his seemingly enormous bulk pressed me down into the cushions. It was for the best. Waiting for my nervous little moves to take shape would have taken up the whole night.
This way, it was all going to happen here and now. I clutched his shoulders as his cock slid into me. He was extremely vigorous with me, and plunged in and out with complete abandon, seeking his own pleasure rather than mine.
Actually I was pleased. I simply lay there bouncing up and down on this large couch as this man above me enjoyed my body.
I didn’t know if I would, but I actually felt the moment when he slowed right down,, his cock head expanded slightly, and his warm jets jumped into me.
After the sex, we lay and kissed and cuddled. Soon he took me up to his bedroom where we both got rid of what remained of our clothing and climbed naked into his bed.
Being so inexperienced I had no idea of what to expect. But looking back in hindsight, I would say that here was a man who hadn’t had sex for some time. He kept me occupied for virtually the whole night and not one zone of my body went untouched by his hands, his mouth and his cock.
He seemed to enjoy my innocence and virginity and delighted in teasing me, telling me what he was going to do to me just before he did it.
Late in the evening I decided I would telephone my parents to tell them that I would be staying at a friend’s that night. I asked if I could use his bedside phone and he grinned and said that I could, but he would bum me whilst I was doing it.
Since we hadn’t even got round to that form of lovemaking, I rebuked him for his cheek, and rolled over to use the phone. Fortunately it was my elder sister who took the call at our house, because as I unravelled some rubbish yarn about why I wouldn’t be home, I felt my hips being clutched by strong hands as his cock burrowed into me and forced its way past my sphincter.
It was all I could do not to yell in pain down the phone. I made a hurried excuse to close the call just in time to be rolled onto my front and get buggered for all I was worth.
It was my first night of sex and my best. I don’t think I have ever again felt so “wanted”. When we woke up in the morning I was impressed to see that he already had a fresh boner, which I treated with my now slightly experienced mouth, much to his delight.
Yet even an hour later, when I had showered, dried my hair, and dressed in the same old blouse and kilt, I could see that look in his eye. As I attempted to kiss him goodbye he pinned me up against his front door and his hand was up my skirt.
With an urgency I’ve rarely seen since, he tore off my knickers and fucked me against the front door. With our height difference, he had to hold me up by the buttocks as he feverishly ploughed into me, the big old wooden door rattling alarmingly on its hinges.
I walked home like the cat that got the cream. I’d finally abandoned the shredded knickers, which was a slightly risky thing to do, as the slash down the side of my kilt might well have given a candid flash to the various dog walkers, joggers and church goers that were out on that Sunday morning.
As a first time, I don’t think I could have done better. I continued to visit my “doctor” in secret at least once a month for many years. That’s until I agreed to marry my fiancé. I told the doctor it had to be over between us, but I will always remember him for the marvellous way he “broke me in”.
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