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DISCLAIMER – All people and events described in this story are fictional, and any similarity to real people living or dead is entirely coincidental. Any characters involved in sexual situations and voyeurism are 18-years-old and over. I intend to write most of my stories in the past, and this one takes place in 1993. I hope you enjoy it.
STEVE COLLINS and his friend Paul Tyler were among the many senior students who were grateful to escape from Chemistry when Monday’s classes ended on a sunny April afternoon.
Steve had only attended this high school during his senior year, with his family moving from Illinois to Missouri during the summer, but while he was initially nervous about the change, it had gone far better than he could have imagined.
For all of his 18-years, Steve had longed to be good at sports. Unfortunately, his lanky frame had never allowed this wish. Steve could run until he was utterly worn out, and he would not make the athletics team. He could swim until he clung to the side of the pool, gasping for breath and his name would appear on the cut list for swim team. He could train for football until he was on the point of unconsciousness, run the length of the basketball court dribbling the ball perfectly or hit and throw a baseball, but still his best wasn’t good enough.
This had been a major problem at his old school, where athletes and cheerleaders were considered aristocracy and those without sporting talent peasants. However, at this school the teachers were encouraging of all students in sports, and when a coach had seen Steve shyly observing the football team train, and invited him to join in some of the training, and help out during games. Now Steve was much fitter, and had made friends with some of the players who appreciated the effort he put in. Only one thing was missing, and that was a girlfriend, but with the class of 1993 to graduate in just two months, this appeared unlikely.
Paul, a handsome, blonde athletic young man had become a good friend of Steve, as had Will, a talented, good-natured young African-American man, and Robbie, a six-foot-six red-haired football star.
Robbie and Will approached Steve and Paul on their way out of school.
“I was nearly asleep by the end of that class,” said Will.
“Me too,” said Robbie. “I had to pinch myself to stay awake.”
“It doesn’t end there,” said Steve. “Remember, we still have the group assignment to finish.”
“Oh yeah,” said Paul. “Are Wednesday and Thursday nights still okay? We can go to the library in town.”
“Why not your place like we arranged?” asked Will. “Your parents are still out of town for two weeks, right? You have the house to yourself, you lucky dog.”
“Yes, they flew out to New York today,” said Paul, “but …”
The sound of a car horn made the four guys jump, and they turned around to see a small blue car approaching. “Oh no,” said Paul under his breath, when the car came to a halt, and a pretty, young blonde woman leaned out of the car window.
“Hey Paul you loser, get your ass in the car,” called the blonde. She got out of the car and stood with the driver’s door ajar.
“That’s my older sister Stacy, she’s come home from college to stay for two weeks while Mom and Dad are away,” Paul explained to Steve.
Steve nodded silently, unable to keep his eyes from Stacy. A tall, slim girl, with long, blonde, fringed hair, she definitely had the classic Midwestern look. She wore a white tee-shirt which accentuated around her large, D-cup breasts, with a short denim skirt and a matching sleeveless denim jacket. Her feet were clad in pristine white sneakers and white ankle socks. Steve had to fight hard to prevent himself from staring, while all the while thinking “Wow!”
Paul had spoken about his sister Stacy, who at 21 was three years older than her brother, mainly in unfavorable terms. Steve had visited Paul’s house quite a few times, and had seen family photographs that Mr. Stacy in the clothes she was wearing today, Stacy in a bra and panties, Stacy in a bikini, Stacy topless, Stacy completely naked. He fantasized about her naked young breasts and firm buttocks, her long legs and her bare feet and whether the hair that covered her pubic mound would be blonde like that on her head. Under the blankets, Steve could feel himself getting harder and harder, and knew he would get no sleep in this condition, and pulled down his boxers.
Taking his penis, stiffer and straighter than the Washington monument, in his left hand, Steve began to rub himself back and forth. He knew his parents and younger sister were asleep down the hall, so he had to be quiet. Waves of excitement ran through his body, and with his right hand he stroked his bahis firmaları balls to double the pleasure. He imagined his hand was Stacy’s hand, then her mouth and finally, her soft, moist vagina.
In just five minutes, Steve felt his orgasm approaching, and his cock exploded, producing enough sticky white fluid to impregnate ten women at a fertility clinic. Taking a tissue, Steve cleaned himself, then rolled over and fell asleep in under a minute. Predictably, Stacy entered his dreams many times that night, and when morning arrived, Steve’s REM sleep was interrupted right when he was licking the area between Stacy’s vulva and anus. His bedclothes resembled a tent, and he had to think about sad movies, his fat, 65-year-old English teacher and chemistry for 15 minutes before his latest erection finally subsided.
On Tuesday evenings, Steve worked a shift at the local grocery store, and tonight he was hard at work re-stocking the sodas.
“Hey Steve,” came Paul’s voice behind him, and he turned around to see his friend approaching, carrying a tube of toothpaste, a bottle of mouthwash and some shampoo.
“Hey Paul, how’s it going,” said Steve. He put some cans on the top shelf.
“I can’t complain, but then Stacy never listens anyway,” said Paul. He looked up the aisle and saw his sister turning the corner, today wearing tight jeans and a purple shirt, with sandals. Her bra strap was visible on her right shoulder. “Speak of the devil,” he complained.
“Hi it’s Steve, isn’t it?” confirmed Stacy. “You look good in your store uniform.” She turned to her brother, and looked at the items in his hand. “Paul, where are the sanitary pads I asked you to get for me?” she asked, her voice carrying through the small supermarket.
Paul went the color of a cooked lobster, and Steve looked at the floor, catching a glimpse of Stacy’s toes as he did so.
“Um Stacy, maybe you should get those some other time,” said Paul. “It’s not as though you need them now.”
“Let me explain to you,” said Stacy, her tone teasing and patronizing. “Once a month, my ovaries release an egg, and a lining forms on my uterus. My egg travels down my fallopian tubes, and if I don’t get pregnant, that means I get my period and need to wear a pad in my panties or a tampon to absorb my menstrual flow. The last time I had this was last week, and I used my last pad, so I need some more for the next time I …”
“Okay, okay, please stop talking,” pleaded Paul. He dashed away, leaving Steve alone with Stacy. Steve tried to talk to her, but couldn’t think of anything to say, and they stood in silence, until the blushing Paul returned, clutching a packet of sanitary napkins close to his body.
“Thank you,” said Stacy. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She took the pads and placed them in the trolley. “We’d better not keep you, Steve. Come on Paul.”
“See you tomorrow in school, Steve,” said Paul.
“Yeah, catch you then,” said Steve.
The evening passed, and when his shift finished, Steve drove home, again with Stacy filling his mind. It was a bitchy thing Stacy had done at the store to humiliate her brother, but somehow it seemed to make her hotter. And while Steve like many guys was generally uncomfortable with the topic of menstruation, he couldn’t get the image of her talking about her panties and reproductive system out of his thoughts. He also couldn’t believe that Stacy actually got her period, this tempered with the logical thought of ‘she’s a 21-year-old woman, of course she does.’ The night was spent like the previous one for Steve, with Stacy taking center stage in his self-pleasuring thoughts and then his dreams.
Steve spent Wednesday in a state of nervous anticipation, with the study evening at Paul’s house coming up. He told himself that Stacy may not be there, she might be late at college or working. When school ended, he felt like a kid on the night before Christmas.
Steve trembled in nervous anticipation walking up the door to Paul’s house, with Paul, Will, Robbie and Lauren, Paul’s attractive 18-year-old girlfriend, a cheerleader with strawberry-blonde hair.
As soon as they entered, Steve’s eyes took in Stacy. Today she wore a loose, blue tee-shirt and a pair of black stirrup-pants, the stirrups tight around the arches on Stacy’s bare feet. Steve’s adrenaline raced through his body at the sight of her perfect feet. He had always loved bare feet on girls, and Stacy’s were the best he had ever seen.
The students set up their books and paperwork on the living room table, and Stacy sat in an armchair watching television nearby, her long legs stretched out, her bare feet on the table.
“What’s the lowest element with no stable isotope?” pondered kaçak iddaa Paul, looking at one of the questions.
“Technetium, Element 43 you dumbass,” Stacy called out.
“Haven’t you got any study you need to do?” Paul called back.
“I’ve already done it,” she retorted. “Make sure you do yours. I promised Mom and Dad I would closely supervise your homework, and I will keep that promise.”
“I’m sure you will,” Paul said.
The group continued to work on the assignment, then took a break.
Paul and Lauren went to go upstairs, but Stacy was on to this immediately.
“Where do you think you two are going?” she asked.
“Upstairs,” Paul replied.
“Oh no, not unsupervised,” she said. “It’s one at a time, or I come up with you.”
“Stacy, do you get some pleasure out of acting like such a bitch?” asked Paul.
His sister pretended to consider this. “Um, yes, I guess I do.” She saw a pen on the floor. “Can’t you lot even pick up after yourselves?”
She bent over in front of Steve to pick up the pen. Steve felt his eyes bulge when he took in the sight of the firm cheeks of Stacy’s bottom and the lines of her panties, and with her legs parted, a slight oval-shaped bulge around her vaginal area through the black fabric of her stirrup pants.
When his cock again began to come to life, Steve had to quickly sit down to avoid potential embarrassment.
The doorbell was heard, and Stacy made haste for the front door. “Hey Brad, how’s it going?”
“Great,” came the male voice.
They heard the door slam, and a muscular young man walked in behind Stacy.
“I’ll be upstairs awhile, so do not disturb,” Stacy warned her brother.
“So, you get to have guys over, I can’t even be upstairs for a minute with my girlfriend?” asked Paul. “That’s so unfair.”
“I’m a hypocrite,” Stacy called back, as she and Brad mounted the stairs.
Stacy and Brad still hadn’t come back when the study session ended. “Let’s put this upstairs in my room, and we’ll pick up again tomorrow,” said Paul.
Going upstairs, they passed the closed door to Stacy’s bedroom. Steve’s ears picked up a series of sounds from within; Stacy squealing, Brad grunting like a gorilla and the bed springs squeaking.
Again, Steve felt the blood going to his groin, and he tried to keep his composure, and close to the wall.
Before they could go downstairs, Stacy’s door burst open and she emerged, her long blonde hair messy and her skin covered in sweat. She wore Brad’s shirt over her body, and Brad himself wore boxers.
They made a beeline for the bathroom, and the door slammed closed. The sound of the shower came on almost immediately, followed by Stacy and Brad laughing.
For the third consecutive night, Steve went to bed and pleasured himself with the mental images of Stacy, those he had seen, such as her bare feet and the shape of her vagina through her stirrup-pants. Others were of things he had heard – Stacy writhing naked on the bed, her pussy getting pumped while she squealed, and her naked under the shower washing away the sweat and the cum of both herself and her boyfriend. Steve imagined himself substituted for Brad, then came like a volcano.
Thursday evening’s study session proceeded smoothly, with no interruptions from Stacy, who had assignment deadlines of her own and was working alone in her room. She only came downstairs once to get a drink of juice, before returning upstairs. Even this was enough for Steve. Stacy wore a blouse that showed a good deal of her cleavage, a short floral skirt and was barefoot. When she went upstairs, Steve stole a quick glance upwards and caught, for the slightest second, a quick glimpse of Stacy’s white panties.
“Where’s that really good chemistry book you had last night, Steve?” queried Lauren.
“I must have left it upstairs,” said Steve, looking around the table in vain for it. “I’ll just go and grab it.”
Steve mounted the stairs, and was in time to see Stacy emerge from her room, and walk to the bathroom. She didn’t appear to notice him, her face frowning when her eyes took in the toilet, with the seat left up.
“Paul, put the toilet seat down,” she complained to herself. She stepped into the bathroom, put down the seat, and closed and locked the door behind her.
“Wow, she actually goes to the toilet,” Steve thought to himself. In the silence of the house, a sound was heard from the bathroom; a splashing, trickling sound as Stacy began to urinate, her pee forming a steady stream that lasted over 30 seconds. When this came to an end Steve heard Stacy unwinding and rustling some toilet paper.
His cock hard, his heart beating he imagined Stacy behind the bathroom door, sitting kaçak bahis on the toilet with her skirt hitched up and her panties around her ankles. He expected the toilet to flush, but instead the door remained closed and after another thirty seconds or so, he heard Stacy unwinding more toilet paper, the sound repeated almost immediately. Again there was about twenty seconds of quiet, followed by the sound of Stacy advancing the toilet roll again.
This continued for another few minutes, before Steve heard Stacy unwinding toilet paper three times in succession, followed by her flushing the toilet and spraying toilet freshener around the bathroom.
The sound of the toilet cistern refilling continued as Steve, his penis throbbing, made a retreat to Paul’s bedroom. He heard Stacy washing her hands, then open the bathroom door, adjusting her skirt and panties as she returned to her room.
The toilet cistern had refilled, and there was only a slight whistling noise when Steve passed the bathroom, the sweet smell of the toilet spray drifting out.
Steve held the book in front of his pants. That Stacy had been on the toilet doing such private things just inches from him were unbelievable. He found it difficult to fathom that a girl as perfect as Stacy would actually empty her bladder and bowels, and use toilet paper.
“Did you get lost?” Paul asked when Steve returned to the living room.
“Um, the book fell on the floor and I couldn’t find it,” said Steve, blushing and trying to concentrate on atomic weights and redox reactions.
Friday night was humid and overcast, and Steve was again at Paul’s house, to watch videos with his friend, Lauren, Will and Robbie.
“Is Stacy here?” Steve asked. He tried to sound casual.
Paul shook his head. “No, she’s at a frat party at college. She won’t be back until the early hours, if at all.”
The group was halfway through the second video at about 10 p.m., when to their surprise the door opened and Stacy walked in, dressed in jeans and a pink tee-shirt bearing the Latin letters of her Soriety house.
“What happened to the party?” Paul asked his sister.
“It was a total wash-out,” said Stacy. “Look at me, I’m cold sober on a Friday night. The church picnic is more exciting.”
She got a drink from the refrigerator and made her way to the living room. She took off her shoes, and put her bare feet on the table, watching the video with the others.
Stacy yawned at completion. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight,” the others called back, before Lauren, Will and Robbie also left. Steve was about to get into his car, when a cat dashed out from the house next door, and into Paul and Stacy’s backyard.
“Tabby, tabby you naughty cat!” called an old lady
as she ineffectively chased the cat. She turned to Steve. “Young man, are you able to help me?”
“Yes, of course ma’am,” said Steve. He ran into the back yard, and quickly caught the cat. He turned to go back, but caught sight of the light shining from Stacy’s window.
Stacy stood directly in front of the glass, the curtains open. She still wore the pink tee-shirt, but had removed her jeans and her pink, cotton panties were on display.
Stacy yawned and stretched, but then stopped and lowered her panties slightly, examining the saddle. She bent forward and gave them a slight sniff, before sliding them down and stepping out of them.
Again, Steve felt himself breathing heavily and getting hard as he took in the sight of Stacy’s pubic mound, covered in a luxurious triangle of blonde, curly hair.
Stacy picked up her panties from the floor and turned around to place them in the hamper. Steve’s eyes went wide when he saw Stacy’s bare bottom, two perfect pale-skinned buttocks, firm and round. She turned back around to again give Steve a view of her pubic hair, and went to the drawer to retrieve clean panties.
Steve saw her with the pale lemon fabric in her hand, before she held them out in front of them, lowered them down to her ankles and pulled them up over her thighs and then her buttocks and pubic mound, adjusting them so they fit comfortably around her pussy.
The light went out and Steve headed back to the car, returned the cat to the old lady, and drove home at speed, anxious to get into bed and his memories and fantasies.
On Saturday, Steve received an unexpected telephone call – from Stacy. Apparently, the old lady had brought over some home-made jelly to thank him for catching the cat.
Steve said he would be right over, and drove to the house, nervous and sweaty. He knew Paul worked on Saturday, so he would be alone in the house with Stacy. What if he said something stupid, or got tongue-tied?
The house came into sight, and Steve pulled into the driveway. He rang the doorbell, and Stacy opened the door, wearing an over-sized football sweater, her legs and feet bare.
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