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Sex Stories from a Girls point of view.

Honesty it meant nothing to me at the time, sex meant nothing to me at the time, it felt no more different than when I ran around nude on the beaches in Southern France, little girls do that sort of thing all the time, little realizing the effect we were having on the men looking at us darkly, and the sinister thoughts running through their heads. That would come much later in my life, by then I would be prepared for it.

‘I’m going for an early shower baby, you want to use the bathroom’?

Daddy was now in his late forties and we had lived together as a single parent family for ten years, mother having gone her own way to do her own thing, leaving us to bond and get to know each other, in a way, some might think unhealthy.

To the big bad outside world we were a father and loving daughter, but behind our green painted house door, we were free spirits enjoying our little secrets, yes daddy had lots more than I did, but I was learning that some of his inspired me, they involved me, and excited me, but most of all, they pleased him, and for that reason alone I gave my heart to them.

‘Can I join you daddy, I feel I need to scrub-up too’. He smiled as I asked him, I knew it would please him, when you live in close proximity with a person, you develop an empathy with them, and as it was a Saturday, it would be nice to smell nice up against each other.

I undressed in my bedroom and walked naked to the bathroom. I could hear the shower running and as I opened the door, the steamy atmosphere added to the forbidden flavour, a teenage daughter about to shower with her father, even I as I walked into the bathroom, like a had many times in the past, something felt different about me.

I closed the door, I wanted to preserve the atmosphere, the steam, somehow I felt it would make it easier for me to do what I was planing, and when I pulled the curved glass door open, daddy’s nudity was there, and I pushed in beside him, feeling the heat from his body as I turned to pull the curved door closed.

I could feel him glide across my buttock, my right cheek, and settle in-between both, where he thickened and rose, like he always did.

‘Hello Mt Penis’, I said out loud, to which daddy replied, ‘Hello my daughters cute bum’, and I pushed back into him and ground against him, I may have been shy of my fifteenth, but I knew that meant nothing, now we were connecting.

‘I love that feeling daddy’, I told him, reassuring him I wanted to be here as much as he always yearned for me, to apply the gentle friction that was needed to help him release the same seed that created me.

I reached out and put my palms onto the tiled wall, feeling the warm drops of water cascading over my body. My nostrils flared as the sweet flowery scent of the liquid soap exploded in my nasal senses, and the strong powerful finger movement as he washed my long hair, with the water now changing form, enriched with the sudsy soapiness, now running down my back and channelled between my buttocks and daddy’e penis, making a silken sheath for him to slide freely inside my crotch and thighs.

I listened for the change in his moans, the f***e and stiffness of his cock, then I would trap him in there, where life begins.

I felt him stiffen and hold my shoulder as I pushed back against him, ‘OMG’, he moaned, and I opened my eyes and looked down to the tiles where I stood, watching his semen drop onto my feet, and when he exhausted his ejaculation, I turned and faced him, ‘My turn daddy, I want to wash him’, and I did, with copious amounts of liquid soap, I would peel back his protective foreskin, and massage the glans and shaft in one continuous motion, until the showering washed away the soap, and I would remark, ‘There you are Sir, all nice and clean’.

We never admitted to doing this, or even acknowledged we did, as if it were a pretence, a joke between us. In one way we were in self denial, we were committing something pretty serious, but I was learning and I was getting bloody good at giving hand-jobs, but I was learning, and still ached for more, as I did as I dried myself.

‘Daddy, want to watch some Porn tonight’?

I knew the answer before I asked, he would, and I would put my plan into the next phase.


The Doctors Visit

I never knew I had one, my Hymen, that is, and not until our family doctor examined me, for a common cold.

Men of substance can’t help abusing their powers of trust. I remember my father apologising for calling him out to check on me, and then leaving me alone with him in my bedroom, and him taking two reading on his thermometer, one looked like a regular thermometer, the other more like a sex toy.

I suppose if learned gentlemen are called away from their warm abode, they may as well get something out of it.

I was bunged-up with catarrh, my nose was blocked, my throat was sore, and it was difficult to breath. I took my pyjama top off and lay there with my swollen nipples exposed, ‘How does this feel’, he asked me thickly, as he took both of them and twisted and rubbed harshly between his thumb and forefinger.

I can remember looking into his grey eyes and wondering if he liked doing this, but his face was expressionless, as he felt my tummy for tightness, pushing and prodding.

‘Let’s see what we have down here’? He was talking to himself as he undid the small bow on the cord that held my pyjama bottoms, and opened them up to reveal my hairless pubis mound.

Exposed his eyes widened, ‘Very pretty’, he exclaimed, as his fingers ran from my belly button down to my clitoris.

He put his finger into his mouth on numerous occasions unto I was wet enough to open my labia.

‘I need you to pull your knees back and to your shoulders’, he said, as he reached down and pulled my bottom off, leaving me completely nude, and spread-eagled like a frog about to be dissected on a chopping board.

‘Beautiful’, he exclaimed, perhaps he thought by complimenting me I would accept his probing.

‘Pull you lips open’, was all he said, and I reached down beneath my own buttocks and pulled myself apart.

‘Wider girl, wider, you can open your cunt wider to have a baby’. I was shocked by his crudity and when he shone a pen torch up inside me, I only realized when he looked into my eyes, he had pushed it inside me, and was slowly twisting it and with an undulating in and out motion.

‘What are you doing doctor’, I whispered?

‘You, young lady, are going to have an orgasm’, was all he said, before bending down and started to lick my clitoris, he was right, eventually I had one, and my nose cleared, and he withdrew his pen torch and replaced t with two fingers, to rub behind my pubic bone, that felt nice also, so I did what I did to daddy, held him and drew his white semen.

I lay there naked as he fastened his pants back up, his cum on my chest, ‘Finished doctor’, and I looked to see daddy standing in the doorway.

Both men shook hands and the doctor left, while daddy brought in a towel and wiped me clean. Daddy shooed me along he bed a little and climbed in beside me, ‘I’ll keep you warm tonight baby’, and he did, sleeping with another person was a nice feeling, and it became a fixture for me in the future, especially with sleepover with my girlfriends.

Being touched on the bus by a pervert

I am not alone when admitting to being touched inappropriately on public transport. My age and wearing my school uniform are magnets for men desiring young flesh to fondle.

Girls my age are sexually confused and overpoweringly susceptible to being groped, but because it confuses us in many levels, we accept it, as a badge of being who we are.

Feeling a man’s hand slip under your skirt tells you he appreciates your beauty, something we girls can’t fully accept that we are, but each touch secretly confirms the previous one.

Then there are our own bodies, who in a way let us down because being touched intimately, feels good. One girl I know, Lucy, was more seduced in her morning tiredness and the gentle teasing touch of a man#s fingers, deftly creeping up her inner thigh, than crudely groped as she stood beside a seat.

She let him go all the way up her skirt and fumble until he managed to pull her panties aside and put his fingers inside her.

By the time he had finished, she was standing in a puddle of her own pee, it just ran down her legs and no one saw it, she had no way of controlling her bowels, and had to follow the same man off the bus, when he alighted.

He was thinking she did so because she wanted more, and so he took her behind the shelter and made her pregnant.

We want to say ‘No’, but why should we, when it’s natures way to override the concerns of men who are not there and want to be.

These cynical men are no better than those who successfully gain access and manipulate female erectile tissue to new heights, and stir our wombs with cocks, once seen, and never thought possible to go into places too small in our minds to comprehend.

My first one was so big, I had to keep asking if he was inside me, even though the feeling was immense.

Crazy things I have done for men


I once danced on a floor with both of Lelo’s, ‘The Hula Beads’ inserted inside my vagina, for a dare on a night cruise. The remote control was in the hands of a perfect gentleman, my friends father, (she was not on the cruise) and he controlled the intensity of the vibrations as I danced up close and personal with another stranger, I had an orgasm, and the man I danced with, thought it was him who was giving me so much pleasure.

2. I turned up one night wearing a short skirt for a pub outing with some girlfriends. They all commented that I had a pair of great looking legs, and would most likely make all the guys notice me and not them, so as a punishment, I must go commando, so I took my panties off and put them in a trash bin in the gardens, with one twist, I had to be seen doing it, by an old man.

So we waited and waited and then just as I thought I was going to get away with it, a down and out d***k guy in his fifties, sat down on a bench and started drinking a from a bottle.

To make matters worse, he was sitting directly opposite the bin, which was mounted on a lamppost, ‘Show some fucking bare ass’, my tipsy girlfriends chorused.

I walked over to where he was sitting and sat down on the opposite side of the bench(He did have personal odour issues), but he was strangely kindly and gentlemanly, offering me the bottle to take a swig off.

He was d***k, which made my task easier, as he looked as if he was having difficulty in focussing, my friends on the other hand were becoming impatient and calling over all sort of rude comments for my to get on with it.

I stood up and neared him, ‘I’m sorry’, I began with, then as I explained what it was they were referring to, I eased my skirt all the way up over my hips and stepped out of my panties, before turning around and letting him look at my bared bum.

He reached out to touch me and I handed him my warm panties, and at that I marched off to rejoin my friends shrieking and giggling at my bravado.

Behind the tag in my panties, was written my name in ink, Emma. W and my mobile number.

3. At an open air music festival I d***kenly snucked off to find a place to have a pee. I waded into some bushes and dropped my denims and panties and let go with a whoosh and a rather loud fart, which made me and the four men nearby laugh.

Within seconds I was confronted by four pair of feet with trousers down and cocks in my face, ‘Let her have it boys’, was the unified call, and four rather warm and yellow jets of urine landed on my long hair and ran down my body under my t-shirt.

I sat and endured my first experience of what is now commonly called ‘Golden showers’, my protestations, were short lived, as the taste of pee in my mouth for my troubles of complaining.

I just went home and showered, then lay on my bed, suddenly turned-on by the disgusting deed, no I sometimes suggest it when sharing a shower with a lover I catch having a pee, I tell him, ‘Indian women swear by it as a cure for hair loss and lack of sheen’.

I hold him as I kneel in front of him directing the jet onto my hair, then my face and end with him in my mouth for a thank you BJ.

4. I once asked a guy for a fuck. I was working as a part timer in a hotel and had just made it to work on time, direct from a night out on the town, and still dressed like a slut, with stockings and suspenders, right, I’m sure you get the imagery.

I had just made the changing room lockers when I heard my name being called from the kitchen.

I was still hungover with booze and recreational d**gs, so I just grabbed my pinafore and covered up my legs, as my skirt was in the locker with my blouse and jacket.

‘Breakfast for one, room 704’, was what read on the ticket on the trolley, so I grabbed it and went up on the service elevator to the 7th.

I was hungry so I stole a sausage and gulped it down as I wheeled to 704, and knocked on the door.

I almost laughed, the occupant was a pervo, a guy who thinks flashing the maid had never been done before, standing there with his robe open, pretending he was about to have a shower.

I wheeled into his room and did a big no no as far as hotel rules go, always leave the door open by putting the small wedge under the door, I just let it close behind me, what I wanted was strong light behind me, that way he could see through my pinafore and my sexy attire.

‘Can I serve you Sir’, I asked subserviently, and as I spoke I pulled the curtains open to allow light in and let him see me in all my splendour?

I deliberately stood in front of the window with my legs apart, and the look on his face told me I had turned the impending flash in my favour.

‘Yes, please do’, he said breathlessly as his eyes darted over me, or what was under my pinafore to be more exact.

I set about setting his breakfast out onto the table, all the while engaging him in conversation. ‘I just got in when they called me to serve you’, I said, ‘I was halfway through changing’, I continued, and as looked up while talking, he had an erection and it was poking out from his open housecoat.

I continued for another minute then stood up and faced him, ‘Would you like to fuck me first’?

He said nothing, just looked dumbfounded, his hand taking hold of himself, as my eyes followed it.

‘I’m not a prostitute, just a student who feels very horny right now’, I continued, then I opened my pinafore, took it off, and knelt on the edge of the bed with my bare ass high, and waited for him to fuck me.

There, you have this weeks tales from me, enough writing, pen down, and hi to all you guys who make those wonderful comments after my stories. Lots of love Emma.

PS My ex-husbands boss want’s to meet up with me again, should I say yes, or just let him remember me as you see me in the woods?.

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