This is the first installment of a story about a girl who likes to make men cum in their pants. It was inspired by my experiences as a teenager and by a story that I read on ASSTR years ago. If this is illegal where you live, don't read it. If this sort of thing offends you, don't read it. Please let me know if you like it, and where the story might go; I love the feedback! I have a mumber of scenarios in mind, each inspired by a different event from years ago. I hope you like them.

Please drop me a line if you like the story, or even if you don't! You can get me at justpeekin@hotmail.com

Hope you like it!

Shot in the Shorts - Part 1

Story codes: mf, mast, hum, fdom?

My name Amelia, I am a 20 year old university student, and I make boys cum in their pants. Well, men too, I guess, but it started with boys. I just can't help it. And by pants I mean underpants - I'm English, not American! Sometimes I actually touch them, but the best ones are when they just lose it and cum all on their own. I love the look on their faces when they realise that it's going to happen and that there is nothing that they can do about it. Then they throw caution to the wind and let go and enjoy it, and finally they realise that they now have a load of cum in their pants and that they are in for a bit of a sticky day! Don't get me wrong - I love sex as much as the next girl and nothing makes me happier than to have a nice hard cock in my pussy (or my mouth or my bum, come to that!), but there is just something special about having a boy fancy you so much that he just ejaculates in his underwear. Or in my underwear, but we'll get to that!

Now the first time I made a boy cum it was an accident. I had NO idea what I was doing! I must have been about 12 years old and I had 'got off' with a really cute boy called Chris at the school disco. In those days we were only interested in winning the competition for who could snog the longest without coming up for air. Incidentally, Chris and a girl called Nikky Andrews won it the following year with a slurping 39 minutes and 14 seconds, but that's still a very raw memory and something I don't like to talk about! 

I was delighted that Chris has decided to bestow his affections on me because, as I said, he was pretty cute and all the girls fancied him. Combined with that was the fact that I wasn't exactly much of a catch. Oh, I was very pretty, bright and popular but I was somewhat lacking in the titty department. In fact, I was as flat as a board, unlike some girls in the class who had quite respectable racks even back then, particularly Nikki Andrews! Lots of them - in fact most of them - had hair on their bits as well, whereas I was as bald as a coot. Not that I was sexually backward - I had discovered the solitary delights of masturbation when I was about 9 or so. I can't remember exactly how I made this fantastic discovery, but suffice to say that my hand was down my knickers every chance I got, and that I would 'jill off' at least two or three times a day. I thought that I was very clever, having invented this activity that made me feel so incredibly good, and assumed that I was the only person in the world that was doing it or that ever experienced that strange sensation that, at the time, I had no idea was called an orgasm. I think I used to call it the squeezies because it felt as though all my muscles were squeezing up, and I used to squeeze my hand with my thighs as I came. Of course, I knew all about the birds and the bees, having studied it in biology class but for some reason I never made the connection between what Mrs Smith told us and that strange sensation between my legs. I also knew that boys 'ejaculated' but had no idea that there was a pleasant sensation accompanying that ejaculation - it was just something to do with babies. I must have been pretty thick. But back to me and Chris.

We had 'got off,' as the vernacular of the time had it, at the school disco and gone in for some fierce snogging and hand holding. Oh innocent days! We snogged and held hands and snogged some more and he even put his hand on my bare leg just above my knee! For my part I cuddled him and sat on his knee and thought that I detected something unfamiliar in his trousers. By the time the teachers turned all the lights on and told us that it was time to go home I was getting quite worked up, although I still didn't really make the connection between the physical act of sex (which I knew about in theory) and the nice feeling that I got when I rubbed my pussy alone at night. Everyone was duly collected by their parents and I remember sitting in the back of the car - my older sister was in the front seat - absolutely desperate to play with myself while confirming to my dad that yes, I had had a nice time and yes, I had done my homework and no I didn't want to go to grandma's the next day. The drive home seemed to last forever and I ended up with my hand up my dress and my fingers stoking my pussy gently through my knickers. By the time I got home I was going nuts! I rushed up the stairs and into my room closing the door behind me, pulling my knickers to the side as I did so. I never even reached the bed - I just squatted down on the floor in the middle of the room with my dress pulled up and my knickers pulled to the side, stroking what I had recently learned was called a clitoris until I was overcome with that lovely sensation that I just couldn't live without. The whole thing can't have taken more than 20 seconds!

The following morning I was delighted when Chris rang me and asked if I wanted to go into town with him. Given that he was cute, I quickly said yes. Maybe too quickly - a girl doesn't want to appear too eager! Anyway, I dressed as I always used to - jeans, a t-shirt and a cotton jumper and waited for Chris. He arrived bang on time at the appointed hour and off we went to tread the familiar path of the young teen (well, almost young teen in our case) path of what passed for a date. A tour around the shopping centre, visiting all the cool shops, followed by a visit to the local branch of McDonalds. We knew how to live in them days!

The tradition was that, following the shopping and the classy meal out (sic), the boy would ask the girl if she wanted to go go for a walk down by the river. This was code for 'do you want to go down by the river so that I can try to suck your face off and then get my hand down your trousers' which was fine, because it avoided all those awkward questions like 'do you want to go out with me' or 'can I see you again.' If she replied in the affirmative, the deal was clinched and you were a couple. If in the negative, it was so long and thanks for the cheeseburger. I replied in the affirmative, hussy that I am!

Off we went to the path that ran along the bank of the river in the small town in which we lived. After wandering and chatting and pretending that each of us had no idea why we were really there, Chris stopped beside a large tree that leaned over the river. I nonchalantly went to stand beside him, much as I might have done if I had been waiting for a bus. After a few more minutes, and a couple of pregnant silences, he closed the 10 inch gap that was the gulf between us and put his arm awkwardly around my shoulders. I leaned towards him with my hands in my pockets. After a few more silent moments he leaned a little closer and kissed me on the cheek. I turned a little, and he again kissed my cheek, but a little closer to my mouth. I turned a little more, and his next kiss touched the corner of my mouth. A final turn and his kiss hit the target dead on.

I turned now so that I was facing him squarely, closed my eyes and got to it. We snogged and snogged for ages! After a few moments I felt his lips part slightly and the tip of his tongue probe against my lips. I parted my own lips a little and admitted the intruder, fencing at it with my own tongue. And so we went on. After a few moments we were joined together in a ferocious lip-lock with each of our tongues deep in the mouth of the other. And I was quite enjoying it!

After a little while I registered that Chris's hands were ever-so-slowly moving down from the area of my back where my bra strap would have been had I ever worn (or even owned) a bra. Imperceptibly, they moved. After a minute or two they were in the small of my back, which I recall enjoying hugely, and eventually came to rest on my very pert bum. Through my jeans, of course. My hands stayed where they were - in the middle of his back. After all, I wasn't that sort of a girl!

So there we were in a secluded grove just off the riverbank path with him with his back to the tree and holding onto my bum and standing in such a way that one of highs was nearly between my legs, and vice versa. Then he started to do something to it which I can only describe as gentle kneading and I kid you not, that was the start of the problem. Now I am sure that he had absolutely no idea about what was going on, but purely by chance he was seriously hitting my buttons! The combination of the kissing, the close proximity of another person, the kneading of my bum cheeks and the pressure of his leg on my belly just above my pubis was having what I now know to be an entirely predictable effect. I was becoming seriously aroused, and I could feel the moisture building up in my pussy. On top of that my nipples, which had never been anything special, suddenly and for the first time ever began to feel really sensitive. I began to squirm very gently against my little playmate, almost unconscious of his presence and yet reveling in his touch. I suppose I was trying to get the point of contact between his thigh and my body to be a bit lower. I suppose I was essentially masturbating using his leg.

I was in world of my own, concentrating on the sensation of being aroused by someone else for the first time when I was brought back to earth by Chris shuddering and gasping, his body twitching and his crotch rubbing against my own thigh. I became very aware of the lump in the front of his trousers - nothing too impressive, of course, because he was no more sexually developed than I was - but it was rubbing against my thigh for all it was worth! My eyes opened and our lips parted and I watched as his head went back to rest on the trunk of the tree. His eyes were shut tight, his mouth was agape and his breath was escaping in only short gulps, accompanied by little gasps and grunts that were entirely familiar to me. It seemed that boys did it as well - quite a revelation!

This new piece of information was enough to make me forget my own arousal, for a while at least. As Chris 'came down' from the high that he had clearly just experienced and which was of course no stranger to me, he went bright red. I tried to talk to him about it but he was acutely embarrassed and clearly just wanted to be anywhere except with me! After a few minutes he made some excuse about having to meet his mother to buy new shoes, and slipped away. I was left with a burning curiosity and very horny pussy right there on the river bank. There was little I could do about the curiosity but, having checked to make sure that the coast was still clear, I lost no time at all in undoing the button and zip of my jeans and pushing my hand down inside my knickers to relieve the pressure. I remember quite clearly just how wet my little pussy was and wondering if that was normal before my middle finger found my clitoris and I couldn't care less if it was normal or not.

