I entered inside, me fiondai toward my preferred section, looked at all those provocative covers and to lines I thought about my companies in panties.
I put a hand in the pocket of the overall not to get noticed too much and I started to touch me. I tightened him/it to me, I caressed the point, I rubbed there above, it became more and more beautiful. I wanted to stop, but to every according to whether it passed I told me ok, only another pochino and then enough, but I didn't succeed in stopping me.
Wants her it grew, the breath became more and more troubled, the hand always looked through with more insistence. You/he/she was happening, I didn't care more than anything, I continued not taking care of me of the consequences.
Some moans that I tried to suffocate the more possible, the muscles of the body that to lines me they contracted alone him, and a feeling of heat that from the lower part it went up again me the body up to the head.
Had come! In the pantalonis, in front of everybody.
I became me account that a pair of people were looking me with an interrogative air not understanding what me same happening.
I did me wide and I literally escaped from the newspaper kiosk.
I made few meters, I turned the angle, and a sudden enormous dizziness gathered me to the unprovided one.
The legs were made of glaze, the sight more and more darkened, fell to the ground, almost deprived of senses.
A lady raced verse of me, you/he/she bent him in before and a hand put me behind the head.
«Boy, what is you/he/she taken you, do you feel yourself badly?»
From that position, bent with the bust in before toward of me, the shirt opened disclosing an abundant and soft pair of breasts.
«Thanks, never state better!»
Chapter 3
The thing that I remember more with joy of everything of my scholastic run, from the kindergarten up to the moment of my degree, it is the relationship that I had with my teacher of physical education of the high school the girl Of the Lower part.
Trentacinque years, a meter and seventy, two swollen beautiful breasts, blonde hair that arrived as soon as under to the shoulders, a pair of glasses and of the freckles that made you think about the more arrapantes of the films porno.
Among the benches of school of a high school it turns so so much testosterone that you/he/she could be sold him/it to the kilo.
We had done all some comments or expressed desires on the girl Of the Lower part, and I had not probably been the only one to devote her some saw, but I am convinced to have been the only one of the school that has succeeded in concretizing his/her desires.
There is no denying it, physical education has always been my preferred subject, and to say that was that in which went worse!
While in the other subjects I succeeded in giving the best of myself, getting good votes with least effort, in physical education really I didn't succeed.
Probably very it was due to the numerous distractions that estranged my brain from the reality during that time. I/you/they have always been sensitive to delicious female bodies in movement.
Where the other ones saw a group of young people that you/they played volleyball, I saw some beautiful girls that made to jolt his/her own breasts to every wall, to every squeezing, to every sudden movement of his/her own body. Where the other ones saw a comfortable and sporting attire, I saw magnificent soft shorts that caressed the curves of firm and tall culetti white shirts that became more and more as soon as transparent with to sweat.
And then there was her the girl Of the Lower part. That mature and well formed body, that malicious cat look, that authority that makes you come desire to throw you to his/her feet and to make to walk you above with some heels to pin licking only the sole of his/her shoes because she has ordered him/it to you.
Was a goddess!
By now you/he/she had lost the hopes with me. Any type of exercise succeeded badly me. I was not the worse one in everything, the problem is that I was not among the best in nothing.
So many boys went badly to the test of jump in long, but they were good in the volleyball, others didn't succeed in making exercises on the parallel ones, but with a basket ball in hand they made lightnings and arrows.
Instead I was among the worse ones in any exercise or sport.
Very probably my scarce gymnastic qualities were due to the fact that while the other little boys were grown for road, playing to kick, going by bicycle, et cetera, I had spent my life among study, film - that up to the fourteen years they owed first to be cleared from the department" censorship" of my house - and so many, so many saws.
From my experience to the newspaper kiosk I don't think both passed only a day without I/you had masturbated once me at least.
By now it was a rite, over that a sort of obsession.
There is who doesn't succeed in going in bed if he/she doesn't read at least a page of a book, who without having taken his/her tisana, I didn't succeed there if I had not made at least a saw.
Sinned that in physical education there is not a test that consist in who succeeds in making himself/herself/themselves more saws within a day, would have taken otherwise the maximum one some votes!
Yet it had to be us some exercise where I would have been able to exploit to the best my qualities, it bored me to always make some thin figures in front of the prof.
You tried to motivate me, to help me to explain me to the perfection every single exercise.
It often came from me, it tried to make to understand me the exact posture and the correct movements of the body. It came behind me, it put on with the attached breasts to my back, I succeeded in feeling her, and with the braccias around my body it systematized mine moving to do me her to understand me the exact movements of execution.
I of what explained me understood only that its breasts had been on my back, and that its hands had grazed my body.
I have often had to give up making the exercises because my imagination galloped too much and my friend there under it started to imbizzarrirsi.
It was not a thing that always happened, but when it happened the embarrassment that someone could see me with an erection it was too much great and I preferred to take an ugly vote rather than to make to laugh behind me.
It was the end of the according to high school. I was fifteen years old, even if I showed more pair one of it.
In all the subjects the votes were excellent, my lack in physical education didn't worry me, first because it didn't deal with a fundamental subject for my scholastic walk, according to because had never happened in my school that for guilt of an only subject, also important, someone had repeated the year, even if, technically, if the vote had been really low and in suggestion the teacher of that subject was opposed radically to the promotion, the failure was feasible.
The girl Of the Lower part very seriously took and with a lot of professionalism its subject.
It was convinced that whoever could become a good athlete, all it took is only understanding well the movements to correctly perform the exercises.
That day I had physical education to the last time.
It was one of the last lessons of the year, it played the campanella and all they directed him toward the locker rooms.
I was about to also go me when the prof stopped me.
He/she wanted that I still stayed after the lessons, it said that you/he/she would not have promoted me if I/you had not overcome at least a test.
It gave me about ten minutes to rest me, time that the other boys changed him and they left the school, then we would have begun.
The thing upset me not few, her and I alone, after the lessons.
The boys already started to make the coglionis in the locker room.
«What culo, everything alone with the prof to do who knows what!» one exclaimed.
«Had already asked, to would be jumped him to me I set and would have made her see! Anything else other than I jump aloft and jump in long, I would have taken a beautiful ten in jump
on the prof!» it beat another, and roaring laughters made contour to a whole series of sentences as that.
I was some shaken, I knew how my mind and my body worked, and I also knew that in certain more situations I strove me not to think about something of hog, more the most sinful images manifested him in my mind.
I tried not to think of us.
I entered gym. You were there that it waited me. A white gymnastics overall and viola turned on, with the above to giacchino with the closed zip up to the neck.
«Well we can start,» position of motivation exclaimed.
Volleyball. He/she wanted that I succeeded in effecting at least some correct squeezing.
The lesson started, initially theoretical. He/she explained me the various movements of the body, the moment in which to jump, when and as to strike with the hand.
First tests. Nothing.
We went on, the rhythm became more and more frantic, her he was shaking because in his/her cuor he/she saw me how a failure.
You removed the jacket of the overall, you/he/she was sweat, he/she remained with an adherent toppino that left the flat abdomen open and it emphasized two cry breasts.
I kept on looking at her/it while I was trying to correctly perform the exercise. It started to make to see me she as him performed the squeezing, I threw her the ball, she took a pair of footsteps of run after then it jumped and it struck her/it sending her/it beyond the net.
From the movement of his/her breasts it was understood that a normal bra had put, not the special bra to make sport.
It was too much for me, the head departed for its facts and from the lower part the blood it started to flow more and more abundantly.
Then we arrived where I would never have liked to arrive. You put on behind me and he/she took me the braccias and the movements to reproduce the correct execution of the movements that I would have had to complete.
His/her breasts on my back, the touch of his/her hands on me, the heat of his/her body increased from I force him/it physical, the odor of his/her sweaty skin, so sweet, so arrapante.
Had become me hard!
«Enough so, it is useless to continue, I don't make her/it.»
While I was pronouncing these words I estranged me from her, always of back, that overall didn't hide anything, and my friend could be admired in all of his/her form.
«Where you go? I have not given you the permission to go away, we have to end the exercise» it shouted me against.
«He/she doesn't speak, I go to the locker room» I answered her without stopping me. The erection didn't mention to stop.
«Moccia, doesn't know what problem you have and because you coop escaping so, but I swear on God that if you enter that locker room without giving me one now although least explanation I will put to risk your promotion.»
It was angry. I had probably interpreted that gesture of mine as disrespect. What did I have to do? I was worn-out, I almost felt like crying. I had to have some serious problem, because despite everything of my pea he/she didn't think of us really to ammosciarsi.
«You dò ten second to return back and to give me an explanation, not one more» and a voice tall and severe countdown started.
It was irritating, it was humiliating, I wanted that it stopped but it kept on articulating the seconds. I told her to stop her/it, he/she didn't answer me, it continued his/her countdown.
«. tre.due.uno!»
«And is it all right, has you/he/she won her ok? I turn me!»
You drew near verse of me without speaking. It looked me in the eyes, for this it didn't notice under the swelling to the overall.
«Then, what is there that doesn't go to my lessons, that often induce you to escape away?» he/she asked me, anxious the answer to be known.
«Me. The think about having to problem. You are a beautiful woman, busty, provocative, and when I look at her/it, when it comes next to me to explain me the exercises and his/her body it is to contact with mine. be', The excite me, here!»
It quadrated me with a mixed look between incredulity and amazement.
It was not waited certain an answer of the kind.
«You want to make to believe me that every time that you have escaped or that you have refused yourself to make an exercise was it because I had provoked you an erection?»
I nodded with the head.
«Be', as it excuses you could find a best of it. I don't think about ever having fact nothing of so provocative, and I don't sincerely think that I would ever have acknowledged your presumed erections, since however it results me that we develop the lessons dressed, not in underpantses, and of certain self I am not to look you among the legs there» it seemed quite a lot bored.
«I am not" presumed", and however one erection of mine would have acknowledged, and not only her» I beat angry.
«It looks that contrarily of what you think, we are not all with the eyes aimed to the horse of your pantalonis, therefore next time that happens, do me a favor, it continues your exercises and not to invent excuses to go.»
You/he/she was bothered, according to her my reaction was only a way to escape the lesson. You/he/she had not understood anything. And to think that I also went away and above all not to put in embarrassment her in front of a pupil with the hard bird.
What a stupid.
«Be', then I will beat next time him to him in front of the eyes and I will keep on making the exercises as nothing happened, at least it will be happy.»
It looked me angry.
«Little boy, has trentacinque years, I think about having you approve so many of it in my life, not to think about frightening me with a threat of the kind.»
While it was pronouncing those words that would have had to put me in subjection and to recall to the order, that" I have seen so many of it" it kept on booming me in the head, and as if it was not enough, to intimidate even more me was for some second to fix upward me in the eyes from the lower part, while it was holding up the stecchetta of the glasses with two fingers on the point of the nose. The lips fleshy seeds opened, the odor of his/her skin, the breaking of the breasts that was glimpse by his/her top.
The head turned me, and you/he/she was becoming me hard as a block of granite.
«Mine is not one of the so many» I almost answered her without thinking of us with the head literally stunned by the testosterone.
You looked me at surprise, almost it was not waited for one reaction of mine.
«Line immediately in the locker room!» it howled behind me.
I jolted for an instant and I turned me direct to the locker room.
«Are fortunate if I don't suspend you! And get away that thing from in the underpantses that you are ridiculous.»
That sentence left me some plaster.
You/he/she had seen me with the bird in draught and you/he/she had thought I had something in the underpantses to make the coglione.
The idea that she had seen my hard bird, even if was too much unconsciously for me,: too much stimulant, too much perverse, too much beautiful!
I went down of head, I didn't reason anymore by now, my mouth was disconnected from my brain and spoke alone.
«You look that I don't have anything in the underpantses, or better, something there is, but I cannot get away from there.»
I was not even aware of what I was doing, I went on by now without thinking.
I turned me verse of her in all of my shine.
You lifted the stupid head from my affirmation, of reflex it put on to place the glasses, as to see better us, and it looked first toward my face, then toward my pea.
«Bushels joking, true?»
It was too much. I threw down me the shorts and I aimed straight my naked cazzo toward of her as the loaded rifle of a soldier of a firing squad toward his/her death row inmate.
I had the swollen veins, it pulsated me everything, the point it started to bathe himself/herself/themselves.
«Anybody joke.»
You made a release and runs verse of me lo
oking around himself/herself/itself afraid.
«But are you crazy? Immediately put again yourself that shorts!»
It put me before as to try to cover me and to conceal my eyes pea indiscreet.
It kept on looking at himself/herself/themselves around shaken and to repeat that I would have had to insert me the shorts.
I didn't think it really.
It grabbed me for the sweater and it brought me of run in the locker room to remove himself/herself/themselves from the quick one from that place where someone would have been able to see us.
The dark side of red lights Page 2
