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As a reporter on a local newspaper I had been called on to cover the story of an 18 year old schoolgirl who had hit the national press with her account of how she wanted to cut her very long hair and donate her tresses for charity. Her name was Aimee and I had known her and her mother for some time through reporting their local charity work. Aimee was the only child of a single parent family and I had always been very fond of her as she seemed to be of me, never having known her father. She had grown into a beautiful girl and it was hard to believe that she was on the threshold of university life.
So, it was with a great deal of pleasure that I had been asked to give a photo report for the paper. I had seen the report in the national press and it was as I was looking at her photos that something uncomfortable and yet pleasurable stirred in me. She looked devastatingly pretty in the pictures and I realised that she was stirring me sexually. I resisted the temptation to masturbate over them for as long as I could, but had to give in — and then afterwards felt really guilty.
And so, somewhat dry mouthed with anticipation, I arrived at her house and it was Aimee who opened the door. As requested by our editorial department, she was dressed in the same way as for her original photos — in a sweet floral patterned dress in a soft material that I guessed was a type of polyester. She smiled and welcomed me in, ushering me in to the sitting room. A polite enquiry as to a cup of tea — which I gratefully accepted — was followed by her explaining that her mother was unavoidably detained at her place of work and would not be back for a good two hours. However, Aimee was insistent that I go ahead with the report and photo shoot and whilst she busied herself in the kitchen I nervously prepared my camera.
Aimee came back in with the tea and then sat down opposite me, talking excitedly about the reactions she had had from her plans to cut her hair. As she talked, I drank in the beauty of this girl. Her long hair was exquisite — at least three feet long, a sort of mousy blond, sleek and achingly soft. She tossed it back and forth slightly with each emphasis, her light girlish voice washing over me. I heard, but wasn’t listening, as I took in her smooth, lithe legs and her feet encased in pretty white sandals; and the soft dress which had ridden up her thighs just a touch, revealing a hint of white nylon underskirt. As my gaze reached her shoulders, I took in the white straps of her bra slip and just a hint of the pretty lace of the bodice.
‘So, Aimee, when are you having the dreaded cut,’ I enquired.
‘My cousin’s doing it for me tomorrow,’ she replied. ‘I’m quite excited about it now — but it will be funny to have shorter hair after all this time and I won’t be able to do this any longer’. She smiled as she wound her soft, three foot tresses around her neck and made a playful strangling noise.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, ‘please don’t do it, Aimee, I love your hair just as it is.’
Aimee looked momentarily taken aback.
‘It’s OK, Mr Henderson,’ she smiled reassuringly, ‘I shall leave a length of about a foot — it will still be quite long and I’ll get it styled to look pretty — you will still love my hair, I’m sure.’
I had long had an aching fetish for long, silky hair on women and by now, with all this talk, I had become hard as a rock and I was hoping Aimee hadn’t güvenilir bahis noticed.
‘Oh God…oh good…’ my voice came out in a hoarse croak. And then, in a moment of recklessness, I blurted, ‘Aimee, while you’ve still got all that lovely hair, would you mind if I stroked it?’ This was
it — a point of no return, and a paralysing fear gripped me that Aimee would lose all trust and affection for me and suddenly I would be no more than a pervert in her eyes. I scanned her sweet face anxiously looking for shock and disapproval, but although she coloured slightly she smiled shyly and said, ‘OK, Mr Henderson..’
‘John, please,’ I interjected.
‘OK, er…John,’ she replied, ‘you’re welcome to feel my hair. It’s lovely and shiny. Mum washed it for me this morning. It takes ages to dry!’
Aimee laughed in that appealing way of hers and watched me closely as I got up and sat beside her on the settee. I inched closer to her and with trembling hands gently felt and stroked her glorious hair. I put my face close to it and breathed in the scent of her. My cock was now straining for release and Aimee must have noticed the evident bulge in my trousers.
‘Do you like it, Mr…John?’ she turned and smiled. ‘Mum says that my hair is beautiful and that one day when I get a boyfriend he will love to stroke it…..like you..’
And then, ‘John, do you think I’m pretty?’ her innocent question just about melted me.
‘Aimee, you are the prettiest girl in the whole world — and I love you….’
My reply was the bombshell which I was sure would ruin everything. I suddenly felt numb. How could I possibly tell this girl that I loved her? And yet, I realised at that moment — it was true.
With my erection straining and surges of desire rippling through my cock, I realised that I now needed to resolve this rampant desire. The erection wasn’t going to go away and I could hardly stand up in front of her and get on with the photoshoot with a massive tent in front of me.
She watched wide-eyed as I slowly unzipped my trousers and freed my straining cock, its head now purple and glistening and oozing pre-cum. I had never been so hard before.
‘Aimee, my sweet girl, please put your hand around it and then slowly rub up and down — like this….’ I demonstrated the movement.
Aimee nervously reached forward and her slim hand gripped my cock gently.
‘Like this?’ she copied my movements.
‘Oh, God, yes, Aimee — that’s so good’. I started to breathe heavily as her exquisite touch brought me nearer and nearer to climax. And then, as she wanked me, she instinctively snuggled closer and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.
‘Do you really love me, John?’ Aimee whispered.
‘Oh yes, Aimee,’ I groaned, as her precocious expertise in bringing me off was working a special magic. By now her hair was falling across my lap and its softness was helping to bring me to the brink.
‘Oh, God, Aimee,….I do love you…’ I cried out in utter desire as the waves of orgasm engulfed me and Aimee wanked me to completion.
The cum spurted all over my stomach and her hand but she had the foresight to keep my spurting away from her dress.’
I sighed in utter fulfilment and gazed at this lovely girl who smiled back
‘Did you enjoy that, John?’
‘Oh, yes, my darling girl, you have no idea how good you are at bringing a man pleasure,’ I replied.
We sat together türkçe bahis in silence for a few moments and then a sudden realisation hit me. Aimee’s mother would be back at any minute and I had done nothing about the report or the photoshoot. I quickly cleaned myself up and asked Aimee to wipe up any damning evidence on the settee. And then, kissing her goodbye, asked Aimee to explain to her mother that I had been unable to do the report as planned because of an urgent family commitment and that I would phone her mother to make another appointment.
The opportunity for another precious time with Aimee came sooner than I expected.
The opportunity came in fact the very next day. Aimee’s mother, Caroline, had OK’d me to come and do the photoshoot in the afternoon, as soon as Aimee got back from school, and she further explained that she had a business trip that was going to mean a late return home, well in to the evening. She assured me that Aimee was quite capable of looking after herself and making herself something for tea.
I couldn’t believe my luck. The anticipation of several uninterrupted hours with Aimee made me rush through the morning’s work in a blur and I barely heard what people were saying to me in the office. I eventually arrived with all my camera equipment at Aimee’s house and nervously rang the doorbell.
A beaming angel opened the door to me and she looked more beautiful than ever. Still in her school uniform of a soft blue gingham dress, she greeted me with a shy kiss on the cheek.
‘Hi, John,’ she chimed in her delightful way, ‘I’m really looking forward to doing the photos — you’ll have to tell me how to pose,’ and she pouted teasingly. ‘Anyway, I’d better go and change into the party dress I wore yesterday for you. Do you want to come upstairs with me and then you can make sure it looks OK before you take the photos?’
I gulped a barely audible ‘yes’ and then followed her up the stairs. I deliberately hung back a little so that I could catch a glimpse up her dress and was rewarded with a sight that stirred my cock in to life and brought back memories of my schooldays when I had a persistent lust for some of the girls in their soft summer school dresses and nylon underskirts.
Aimee ushered me in to her bedroom and, opening her wardrobe, got out the lovely dress she had worn the day before.
‘There you are, John,’ she smiled, ‘could you just hold it for me while I get out of my school dress.’
Clutching her dress to me, I watched in fascination as Aimee undid the buttons on her school dress and slid it down to her feet, revealing the sweetest white nylon full slip, edged with a narrow lace hem and with lace around the bust area and finished off with a little bow.
I stood transfixed with a mixture of fear and disbelief. This girl was now so fully at ease with me that she was allowing me in to her most intimate space.
‘Your penis is going big again, John,’ she grinned as she realised what a devastating effect she was having on me yet again. ‘Do you like my petticoat? Mum sometimes calls it a slip and it’s like the ones she wears under her dresses.’
Glancing down at my burgeoning erection, I replied, ‘I love your slip, Aimee. May I feel it? It looks so shiny and soft.’
She whispered a ‘yes, of course,’ as I felt the softness of the nylon and the contrasting rasp of the lace.
By now my cock was straining for release and güvenilir bahis siteleri Aimee, sensing this, reached down and unzipped me. She gently pulled my cock from its restraint and then whispered, ‘Would your penis like to rub against my soft petticoat?’
I loved the way she called it my ‘penis’ — so sweetly correct and somehow innocent.
‘Oh Aimee, yes please,’ my voice came out in a croak as I grasped her gently to me and proceeded to rub against the soft nylon. The feeling was intense as I rubbed against her, gently up and down. She in turn clung to me and was beginning to make little whimpering noises. I breathed in her scented hair and stroked it as I rubbed. She turned her face up to look at me and we kissed. How I loved this sweet girl, so understanding and mature and miraculously tuned in to my fetish for slips and dresses.
I guided her gently to the bed and as one we sank down on it, she beneath me as I continued to rub my engorged cock up and down against her slip clad body.
And then astonishingly, came this urgent and uncharacteristic plea from this lovely young girl, looking up at me adoringly, her soft flowing hair cascading around her, ‘Fuck me, John, oh fuck me hard,’ she moaned, ‘fuck me through my soft slip — oh, you love my silky soft slip on your hard, hard penis — let all your spunk come oozing on my petticoat.
I continued to thrust against her, clinging to her in utter desire. ‘Aimee, I’m cumming…..’ my voice now thick with emotion I thrust once more and then exploded, the cum spreading over her sweet slip. Almost at the same time, I felt Aimee shudder and make a little grunt. ‘Oh,’ she gasped and looked searchingly into my eyes. ‘Oh, John, I’ve cum too.’ She pointed to her groin as I gently slid to her side and lay beside her. ‘Oh, it was so..o nice…oh, wow…’
She lay with a big smile on her face as I realised I had thrust through her underskirt to her most intimate area. This was obviously her first experience of orgasm.
We lay together in a timeless moment of utter bliss. Timeless it was for a while and then came the realisation, as I looked at my watch, that Caroline was due back in just over an hour. We got up and, with Aimee’s invitation, helped her dress in a clean slip and her sweet floral dress, ready to take pictures for my paper.
We went down to the sitting room and I got Aimee to adopt various poses whilst I snapped away, urging her not to giggle as she caught sight of another hard on in my trousers. It was all too much again — the sight of her in that lovely dress, the straps of her slip tantalisingly evident, her long glossy hair, the lovely smooth legs and pretty white sandals.
Suddenly she broke from her pose and before I knew it she had unzipped me and released my straining cock.
‘There, John,’ she laughed as she returned to the requested pose, ‘that will be more comfortable for you!’
I continued to take various shots, my cock once again aching with desire for her. Realising I had managed to get a good range of poses, I put my camera down and sank down on the settee, my erection now leaking pre-cum. Aimee sat down beside me and in a matter of moments tossed me off in an intense orgasm. I hadn’t realised just how much this girl was unleashing a dam inside me and just how much I could love her.
I managed to leave just before Caroline’s return, taking with me Aimee’s wet slip, a gift, she said, to ‘rub’ with whenever I wanted. As I kissed her goodbye, I smiled ruefully at the thought that the paper’s readers would never know what state the photographer was in when he took those pictures of the lovely Aimee, my secret love.
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