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My friend is dating a pothead

21.02.2018

She stands up and starts taking the rest of the panties out of the bag and puts them in a pile on her bed. I kinda like how they feel on my friend is dating a pothead my butt, I bet they will feel good with shorts on. Well I had better get dressed, I cant walk around naked all day besides I’m getting hungry.” She walks over my friend is dating a pothead to me and wraps her arms around me again pressing her body against mine.


I return the favor and rest my arms across her shoulders, her panties still wadded up in my hand. “friend pothead my datinmy friend is g is dating a pothead a I really like my new panties, I think I will wear these today.” In a quick motion she stands on her toes and gives me a kiss on the cheek and my friend is dating a pothead stands in front of me. “I’ll take those, unless you need them.


You are welcome to wear them but I don’t think they will fit.” says Anna looking directly my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead at the large bulge in my shorts taking the yellow panties from my hand and walking back to the bags and pulling her new shorts out. “You finish getting dressed, if you my friend is dating a pothead would like we can go get something to eat. I’ve got something I need to take care of.” I said as she still stared at my crotch. “Let me use the bathroom before you go in there, I won’t be long I promise.” Anna dropped her clothes to the bed and skipped from her room to our bathroom. I was standing at my closet when she exited the bathroom and ran to her room saying “Don’t take too long I am hungry!” After Kirsty's party on Saturday, which had my friend is dating ended a popothead dating is a my friend thead with a mess of glorious girl-on-girl ing between me and her, I had gone home, and woken in the mid-afternoon, where realizing my younger brother was watching had added an extra fillip my friend is dating a pothead to my wake-up wank. That was Sunday, meaning Monday was right around the corner, and that in turn meant school. Ordinarily, I would have looked forward to this prospect with dismay, but now my friend is dating a pothead I was eager, because at school I could find partners to enhance my enjoyment of my ultra-sensitive vagina. My fingers and imagination were all well and good – better than that, in fact – but I had no doubt that the real thing would be much more so. I had seen enough teen dramas to know how problematic it could become if I got a reputation for being a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’, or even just ‘easy’… and yet, I wanted , and lots of it. I needed to seem demure and chaste most of the time, while being able to turn it on at a moment’s notice if the opportunity arose.


After some agonizing, I went with a pleated skirt that stopped a couple of inches short of the knee… and, daringly, no panties underneath. My cotton shirt could hang loose, or be tucked in tightly to hug my curves, and especially if I loosed a button or two at is my friend dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead the top. It took long enough to decide that it almost made me late, and I certainly had no opportunity to try anything right then. The whole morning was a rush of difficult lessons that took all my concentration, and I almost forgot about the wonderful sensation of the open air on my clit. I really can’t recommend enough the combination of going commando and wearing a skirt. I am surprised I didn’t have rivulets of vaginal juices dripping down the inside of my leg from constant arousal. By the time we reached lunch break, I was a is pothead dating my friend not waiting any longer. I wolfed down a couple of snack bars I had brought from home, and went on the hunt.


I needed a specific type of guy, in a specific placing for my first test, and I eventually found him. I had seen Daniel, a boy in one of the other classes of my year, around the school, but not given him a second look: a slightly nerdy, unremarkable child. While being by no means a pariah, he had few friends, and was well outside the ‘cool crowd’. When I spotted him hanging around the my friend is dating a pothead courtyard, clearly with nothing to do, and stood just where I wanted, I knew I had my chance. Standing in the corridor, far back enough that nobody else could see me, I stared at him and waited. Then I lifted my skirt and flashed him my shaven pussy. He did such a classical, comical double-take that I almost ruined the moment by laughing. Instead, I placed my a dating friend is pothead my friend a finger is dating a pothead on my smiling lips to indicate silence, ran my hand sensually down my side, and gestured with my head for him to follow. Then I turned without looking back, and walked my friend is dating down a pothead the corridor.


Straight to dating and ex boyfriends friend reviews the ladies’ loos, the ones hardly used at this time of lunch. The ones with a bolt on the inside of the main door. At the doorway, I my friend is dating a pothead paused, looked back again, and nodded my head for him to follow me in, for as I had hoped, he was only a few metres behind me. As soon as he came my friend is dating a pothead my friend is friendships soul mate golfing singles dating dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead through, I pushed the door to, threw the bolt across, pushed him against the wall, and kissed him deeply. He was surprised by this, but responded enthusiastically. After a couple of minutes of this, I deemed the time was right, and my hands went to his waistband. I undid the button of his trousers, pulled down the zipper, reached inside, and pulled out his already hard penis. He was so shocked by the whole situation that he did nothing to stop me. It was not the biggest I had ever seen, compared to some of the schlongs I had my friend a dating viewed pothead is on the net, but it was fairly sizeable, and I knew it would feel good inside me. It was my first time ever giving head, and I don’t think I was that skilled, but I made up for it in enthusiasm.


My head bobbed up and down, my lips first pursing on the tip like a chaste kiss, then spread

what to expect wide my friend is dating a pothead dating shy men
as he knocked the back of my throat. I couldn’t go very deep, but that seemed to be fine with him. I didn’t think it would take much to impress him, and I was right. The very situation overwhelmed him, and it didn’t take him long to shoot his load down my throat. I was prepared for this, though: his first time was always going to be quick, so I had decided to get it out of the way and get him back up for a longer second round. ily, I looked
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at him, made eye contact, and opened my mouth, showing his salty seed that I had gathered on new dating and friend sex site my tongue.


He swallowed himself, his adam’s apple bobbing, and his knob twitched

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, and started to rise. I undid the side fastening of my skirt, and as I stood, it slid off and pooled around my platform-soled shoes. Daniel gasped in awe when he saw
my friend my is dating a potheadmy friend is dating a pothead 6> bare, hairless twat up close. He reached out with one hand towards it, hesitated, and brought his hand back to his side. I sighed, resisting the temptation to roll my eyes. Instead, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my slit. He felt up and down, growing in confidence, and then started rubbing in earnest. I moaned in appreciation, and started almost unconsciously moving friend is pothead dating my a my hips in time to his ministrations. I could gladly have ridden his fingertips to orgasm, but it was a means to an end, and I knew the end I wanted. With his
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own body responding to the erotic situation, his member was soon as hard as before. At that point, I reluctantly pulled away, and led him to the counter-top into which a row my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead of sinks were set. I pushed him back so his bum was in the gap between two sinks, pressed up against him, and lifted one leg, placing my foot on the white porcelain rim, and opening my twat wide. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I asked huskily. “Put it in.” The first words spoken by either of us could have broken my friend is dating a pothead the spell, but instead they deepened it. He grabbed his still-saliva-covered meat in one hand, and pushed it between my glistening nether lips. I could feel it going all the way in, a warm shape pressing the walls of my cunt outwards! As he pressed further in, the lips on my face also spread in the widest grin imaginable, and I leaned forward to give him an affectionate peck on the cheek. Resting my weight on his shoulders, I pulled up and down, in and out. Each re-entry was a sensation, especially once I adapted to the size and my friend is dating a pothead was able to take him to the hilt. The feel of his fuzz of pubic hair brushing against my mons was a little extra tickle, like a hint of spice in each a my friend pothead is dating bite. He started thrusting his hips in time to my motions, then placed his hands on my hips. We grew faster and more energetic, and started panting from the exercise. Pretty soon, he my was friend is dating a pothead pounding my pussy, and I had to hold him by the hips and slow him down. I had initiated this encounter, and he had to be taught the lesson that I was not relinquishing control. A look of blind panic crossed his face, as it must have seemed that I was about to withdraw entirely, and leave him bereft and blue-balled. The fact is that I would never contemplate something so cruel, but the misapprehension served my purposes, so I fixed him with a stern glare, softened with my wickedest smile, and moved my hips again, more slowly. His thick meat pushed in and out of my eager pussy, caressing and stimulating every nerve. The pace increased, our hands all over each other’s bodies: backs and breasts (I don’t my friend is dating a pothead know when my shirt came undone, I don’t remember either of us loosing the buttons) and bums, hair and hips. Then he leaned in, his arms under my armpits, grasped my shoulders from behind, and heaved, an ecstatic groan losing itself in the hair at my shoulder.


The sensation was astonishing: I don’t know what that shaver did to me, but I could my friend feel is dating a pothead him cumming inside me, a flow of warm liquid at the gate of my cervix.


Warmth and joy exploded from my loins, and it was all I could do to keep the volume of my cries down. His heavy breathing brought me back to reality, and I knew I had a job to do. “There there there,” I began, whispering into his ear

my friend is dating a pothead
as if I were calming a baby.


You’re a good boy.” I stepped back, and his rapidly softening penis slipped out of me to hang, slightly pitifully.


A drop of cum slipped off the end, and hung, on a string of jizz, a few inches down. “I’m not your girlfriend,” I began sternly. We don’t even know each other.” my friend is dating I turned a pothead around, bending over to pick up my skirt, and I knew he had a great view of my pussy lips, with his white semen just starting to leak out. From that position, I turned around to look at him, and was delighted to see the clear expression of awe on his face. “If you do everything right, I may dating while separated in north carolina let you have another go some time.” I wiggled my pert bum at him, then stood back up. “But if you breath anything about this to a single

my friend is dating a pothead
my friend other is dating a pothead living soul, you have no chance. Not your best friend, not your mother, not your priest, nobody. I said got it?!” I raised my voice, with a whip-crack on the final syllables. I wandered over to one of the toilet stalls, doing up my shirt.


I reached in, grabbed some toilet paper and quickly wiped up the mess around my groin. Then I tossed dating is pothead my a friend it negligently in the loo and flushed. Finally, I re-fastened my skirt, brushed my hair back, and I looked once again the picture of the prim and proper young lady. Your chance of my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead access to my pretty little pussy ever again depends entirely on your ability to keep your mouth. I took to my slightly ungainly heels as soon as I got out, making sure that my friend is I was dating a pomy friend is thead dating a pothead round the corner before he exited, and made another couple of turnings after that, just in case he thought to follow me. When I picked up my bag and checked my phone, it was no more than 5 minutes before lunch’s end, so I hurried to my first afternoon class. ~#~ That evening, in a flurry of WhatsApp messages, the arrangements were my friend is dating a pothead made for Kirsty to come over to mine, ostensibly to help each other with homework. As soon as the door was closed, though, we were embracing, our teenage bosoms heaving, our lips locked, dating is friend pothead a my our fingers on each other’s hairless, beautiful, rapidly moistening vulvae. Our clothes flew off, and pretty soon, we were in the 69 position, Kirsty on top. I grasped her butt-cheeks to gain

friend is my dating pothead a
purchase and lifted my head up to graze on her snatch, and her long blonde hair brushed my inner thighs as her tongue plunged between my folds.


It was not unpleasant, just… “You taste different,” I said. “So do you,” her voice came back from beyond my hips. “Oh my God, you had with a guy today!” It was not accusing. “So have you!” I agreed, for indeed, I recognized the flavour of male ejaculate mixed in with her feminine musk.


“That’s such a relief,” she said.


pothead friend a is my dating
I was worried you might think we were going steady or something, and I really want to lots of different people.” With that, she dove back in and, for a while, our my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead mouths were occupied by things other than speaking. The intriguing taste was soon washed out by my saliva, but I delighted in probing out the remaining vestiges of it that hid between a dating my pothead is friend my friend is dating a pothead folds and under flaps. Kirsty seemed to be enjoying my search too, judging by her squeals when my tongue delved particularly deep. Not that I had much attention left to devote to my my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead other senses, most of it being taken up by the marvellous feelings she was causing between my own legs. My questing tongue must have done the trick, because she came slightly before I did. I got a fascinating close-up view of her pussy pulsing and spasming as she climaxed, then a seeming gushing of natural lubricant coated my face. Before I could clear my eyes, my my friend is dating a pothead own orgasm overtook me, and I could not resist pressing the back of her head into my crotch for maximum penetration at the final moment. She rolled off, and we lay for a while, gasping, staring at my dull, off-white ceiling. “Amazing.” I sat up, pulling my arm out from under Kirsty’s thighs. “So who ed you?” “Mr Adams.” I drew in a shocked breath. From here, gazing across her smooth mons, down her trim belly, across her generous chest to the wickedest smile imaginable, she looked particularly alluring. “Now this
my friend is dating a pothead
I have to hear,” I said, resting my head back in her lap. “Tell me all about it.” “Well, ever since we shaved, I just indian dating indian friends bollywood friends love touching myself. It’s just so smooth and silky, then so slick, and then… well, orgasms are the best!” Her hand strayed towards her crotch, but I pushed it aside and put my own fingertips to work.


“The problem is that, at school, there aren’t many opportunities to do that without being noticed. A couple of times, I caught myself starting up without thinking, and

dating friend a is my pothead
had to cool off before anyone noticed. By lunchtime, when I headed off to one of the loos near the art building, I was ready to explode. In fact, I think I almost did: another girl knocked on the cubicle door and asked if I was okay because I was making so much noise.” She giggled. “I seriously considered inviting her in to find out.” “Maybe next time,” I interjected, not looking up from my work massaging her clitoris. She paused, and might have nodded her blonde head again; I could not see from my friend is dating a where pothead I was. “In any case, that cooled me down until about halfway through the next lesson, so I was raring to go again when the last lesson of the day my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead came along, which was P.E. Honestly, I didn’t think I was into girls, but all of that bare flesh in the changing room nearly drove me wild. I am so glad my friend is dating a pothead our games uniforms don’t show up moisture well, because my crotch was sopping after an hour-and-a-half of watching them bending over their hockey sticks, shorts riding up to show their camel-toes and their butts waving at me. My mind was full of images of them doing the same, but without those inconvenient clothes, or any nasty hair.” Her hand reached out and touched my my friend is dating a pothead own bald groin. “At the end of the lesson – the end of the day – I changed slowly, and got in the shower late. If I had seen them all naked, my friend is dating a pothead I think my senses would have overloaded and I would have come right there. Just the last few was enough that I couldn’t resist touching myself. I stayed in there as I my friend is dating a pothead heard them all leave, letting the water slide down my body, and rubbing my clit. “I was well on the way when I realized someone was still there, at the edge of my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead the showers. Mr Adams was watching me, and he could see that I was masturbating. Except I didn’t want to stop, so I carried on. I kept expecting him to interrupt my friend is dating a pothead me, but he kept watching. I started playing up to it, giving him a show, moaning louder than I needed to, and that just got me even hotter. He had to be enjoying me getting off, and that meant he was getting aroused by me. What did you do?” “I just said, ‘I see you there, Mr Adams. Why don’t you come pothead my is friend a dating my friend is dating a pothead and finish me off?’ He seemed uncertain, so I tried again. I won’t bite… unless you want me to.’ He hesitated a few seconds longer, and then waded right in. My back was to him at that point, but I heard him splashing toward me. He reached round with those big arms of his, placed one on my belly, and the other on my friend is my dating a pothead pussy, and his fingers felt so good that I just surrendered to him. They are all callused, so he has much more friction than I do, but even aside from that, just my friend is dating a pothead my friend is dating a pothead the fact that it was someone else touching me was a real thrill. “I leaned backward and rested my back against his chest for a while, letting him rub and caress me.



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