Virgin Whore - 2
Sally visits the toilet
by
Jetstream
Sally
closed the toilet door behind her, and clutched her pleated blue skirt to her
pussy. Her blonde hair was gathered into twin bunches which brushed both
shoulders, and her full bosom bulged from the starched white cotton of her
blouse. Big breasts, for a girl of only sixteen.
‘Oh,
thank goodness I made it to the toilet in time!’ she declared. ‘I was a bit
worried that I was going to piss in my knickers!’
Her
eyes caught the sight of the enormous erection being cradled by the client
crouched by the toilet bowl, and she wondered, with disappointment, how he’d
ever manage to keep his sperm in for the whole of the act.
‘He’ll
spunk the moment I get my clit out!’ she thought, but kept the thought to
herself. The instructions from the agency had been clear, and she didn’t want
to disappoint anyone.
She
brushed her skirt up at the front, and stroked her fingers across her knickered
mound, where the unshaved golden curls were bushing around the legs and
waistband.
‘Oooh,
yes,’ she said, ‘my fresh white knickers, clean on this morning. I wouldn’t
want to go pissing in them, would I? A big girl like me! I’m glad I reached the
toilet in time, so that I can pull them down to my knees and squirt it into the
bowl properly.’
‘Oh
my God!’ groaned the man, masturbating hard, so that Sally expected the spunk
to come flying out any moment.
She
did her studied double take.
‘Oh
my goodness, I’m sorry!’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise that there was already
someone in here! Shall I wait outside?’
‘N-no,’
stammered the man, clutching his cock hard around the head, making, Sally
noticed, a big gout of pearly white sperm well out of the slit at the top and
drool over his knuckles. ‘N-no, please. There’s no reason why we can’t share. I
can see how desperate you are…’
Sally
pressed her knees together, and bounced up and down in that way only girls have
of indicating their desperation. She pressed her hands into her knickered
crotch.
‘Oooh,
I am! I’m absolutely bursting for a wee! I was worried that I was going
to wee in my knickers, and I only bought them yesterday. You wouldn’t want me
to piss a brand new pair of knickers, would you?’
‘Certainly
not,’ said the man, ‘you go ahead. Come on, come and use the toilet. I don’t
mind.’
‘Thank
you,’ she said, but hesitated. ‘Aren’t you going to move?’ she asked.
‘Oh
no,’ he said, slowly stroking his cock once more, with a slightly wicked glint
in his eye, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t finished.’
‘Haven’t
finished?’ she said, convincingly. ‘Doing what?’
‘Masturbating,’
he said, lifting his hips slightly so that she could better see the size of his
penis, and the big testicles hanging down below. ‘You see, I came in here for a
wank, and I have rather a thing about girls using the toilet. I usually just
sit here and imagine that some gorgeous young thing is sitting in front of me.
I have a good imagination, and it’s usually enough to get me off. I never
dreamed that I might have the real thing!’
Sally
looked worried. ‘Well, look, perhaps I’d better just leave you to it…’
It
was all part of the deal.
‘Sure,’
he said, ‘if you want to wait outside, go ahead. But it’s going to take me a
lot longer without you…’
Sally
bit her lip, and clutched her cunt openly. ‘H-how long?’ she said.
‘Least
twenty minutes,’ said the man, with an evil grin.
‘Oh
gosh,’ she gasped, with a little half smile of desperation, ‘I can't wait that
long! It’ll all be dribbling down my legs by then!’
‘Your
choice,’ said the man, with a shrug.
Sally
paused for a moment, still biting her succulent lower lip, and then became
agitated. ‘Oh no, I think I’m going to do it. I’m going to piss in my
knickers!’
‘Don’t
do that!’ said the man, reassuringly. ‘There’s a toilet here. Why don’t you use
it?’
‘Oh…okay,’
said Sally. ‘But you have to be a gentleman and look the other way.’
‘No
way,’ he said. ‘I’m going to get so close I can almost taste it.’
‘Oh
please!’ Sally begged.
‘Or
you can wait outside,’ he said.
‘Oh,
all right,’ said Sally, giving in at last, and hobbled across the room to the
toilet where she stood in front of him, looking down.
‘The
thing is,’ she said, ‘the thing is…I’m a bit shy about – you know – my pussy.’
‘What
do you mean?’ breathed the man. He knew exactly what she meant; he’d asked for
it specifically.
‘The
lips are a bit…big. They hang out. They’re all meaty and wrinkly. They make me
look like a whore, and I’m not one.’
‘Aren’t
you?’ said the man.
‘No,
I’m not. I’m a good girl. I’m a virgin. No-one’s ever done that with me. It’s
just… well, it doesn’t look like it.’
‘Don’t
worry,’ said the man. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’
Still
Sally stood above him.
‘Aren’t
you going to do it?’ asked the man.
‘I
don’t think I can take my knickers down,’ she said, with a note of despair in
her voice. ‘I think that would make me wee them.’
‘Pull
them aside then,’ said the man. ‘Go on, no one will know.’
She
sat down on the toilet bowl, her skirt rucked around her hips. In truth, Sally
genuinely needed to piss quite badly, and she hoped that she could control
herself well enough to complete her task to the man’s satisfaction. She knew
that going too soon or too late would ruin everything.
She
opened her thighs, and her gaze and the man’s were focussed on the same thing.
The
gusset of her knickers was bunched tightly across the promising bulge of her
pussy lips, protruding into the space above the toilet bowl. His face was
inches away.
‘Go
on!’ he said, masturbating hard, ‘pull them aside.’
She
reached her carefully manicured nails to the left leg of her crisp white knickers,
and slowly drew them to one side, across the hair of her left outer lip, and
stretching the pink flesh of her pussy lips which had got caught in the pocket
of cotton which was her gusset. Then, with a liquid, almost audible flop they
spilled out, hanging down the centre of her cunt hair, and slowly parting.
‘Oh
my God!’ whispered the man, admiring every crease and wrinkle intimately,
watching the gradual unfolding, and the appearance of the white juices of
arousal at their seam. ‘Do you… do you usually… spread them, before you… piss?’
‘No,’
she said. ‘I usually just let it squirt out. Would you like me to spread them?’
The
man seemed trapped in uncertaintly for a moment. ‘No,’ he said at last, ‘no,
just…just let it trickle.’
‘Do
you mean trickle, or do you want me to squirt?’ she said.
‘Trickle,’
he said. ‘Just let it trickle at first. Then squirt.’
Oh
God, trickle! She would be lucky if she didn’t piss straight down his throat!
It was a good job she practiced all those piss-muscle exercises that they told
you to do in the teen girls’ magazines. It was okay. It was on its way. Perhaps
she should pep it up with a bit more talk.
‘Oh
God, please, please, you won’t tell anyone will you? I think I’m going to do
it, I don’t know if I can keep it all in. I think my piss is going to come out.
You won’t tell anyone will you? You won’t tell them about my thick and wrinkly
pussy lips, will you? I am a good girl. It’s not my fault that my cunt looks
all meaty like a whore’s. You won’t tell them that I let you watch as my piss
bubbled out from my cunt flaps? Please. Please. Oh, it’s too late!’
The
man’s eyes went hooded as he gazed at the way the first dribbles of golden piss
started slipping out between the folds of Sally’s pussy and trickling down her
bottom and tinkling into the toilet.
‘I’ve
got to let it go. I’ve got to…OHH!’
That
was when she squirted. The heavy lips were blasted out of the way by the high
pressure jet of piss that hissed noisily against the porcelain.
‘Ohh,
that’s good!’ she gasped, as she fidgeted on the seat, and her cuntflaps were
jostled back and forth in the flow, making sparkling drops shower all over the
inside of the toilet, and some onto the seat.
The
man obviously agreed. He gave a grunt, and a big rocket of come squirted over
Sally’s instep and ankle. She squealed in surprise, and the piss spilled over
the toilet seat. She angled her hips back down so that the squirting piss, that
seemed to go on forever, splashed noisily into the bottom of the toilet,
leaning forward to watch the man ejaculate the rest of his load thickly over
her well-toned calf muscles.
He’d have to pay extra for that, she thought.