Case Study 301 A Swedish Beauty Pageant
- 4 years ago
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Sex In Swedish Means Six, A Good Age. free porn video
I would consider myself no more different from any other girl growing up and interacting with other people. My dreams and aspirations were forged on the same experiences, we all get from life, following the pack and the order it generates, never a front leader and looking up to my peers, both men and women.
I never really focused on anything sexual, that's not to say I never suffered ot experienced sexual behaviour from other people around me, that would have been difficult to avoid as I was a very pretty eleven year old girl with modelling contracts and an athleticism that attracted me to football.
We all have our heroes and heroines and at the football club where I trained the girls all fancied one or the other first team players, but at that age, we were still sexually immature and never felt the urges we would one day, but as for the rest of it, I had my fair share of cock photos and dirty chat, which we giggled at and our hidy-hole, where we watched the guys in the bath.
Once, they had allowed a couple of girls into the dressing room, to sign autographs and take some selfies, the girls were being flirty and the guys started to openly touch them up big time. The girls were about fifteen or sixteen, four years older than I was, but as I spied on them, I realized I was looking at them and not so much the guys with their erections.
One night I slept and had a dream where I was sleeping with another girl and it felt both normal and happy to be in the same bed as she and when I awoke, I still think I had what they call a 'wet dream', as I had a teddy bear between my thighs and I was crushing it hard into my crotch, so hard the head came off, but the feeling I got was both intense and exquisite.
I was almost twelve and it is the point in my life when I became sexually aware and started masturbation, because when you get that first feeling through a wet dream it's perfect sex, even if you don't quite fully understand the mechanics of it, the orgasm and the thought of it was that made me uncontrollably wet.
I gave no more thought to sleeping with other girls and felt my attraction to women was because I was looking for ways to be attractive to men so I embarked on the sexual ritual of dating pretty boys, boys that looked like girls and had a nice smell about them.
My athleticism and enforced training was detrimental to my development, as it was delaying my periods and as such my body was slowly adjusting to womanhood, leaving me with a more tomboyish appearance and I found this upsetting as I wanted to be more womanly with breasts, and those physical attributes that sexually excited men.
I was so desperate, that in my ignorance, I even tried rubbing fresh semen into my flat chest, to make then grow, in much the same way some boys rubbed salt into their chins in the misguided belief that the hairs grow looking for moisture, but the biggest secret I his from my family and friends, was the supply of the semen, I asked my uncle, my mothers brother, whenever I stayed over at his flat in the city, Uncle Bertie was a lady's man with a love for little girls, I knew this because it was he who used to tuck me into bed, and put his hand between my legs and rub me and it was he, who awoke me one night ejaculating into my sleeping mouth and gave me my first taste of warm thick semen.
My next big realization was with another p*******e in the shape of my magazine photographer, an outspoken defender of woman's rights, herself a lesbian, married to a man who was secretly gay and it was she who, when I was just f******n, started taking photos of my nude and showing them to potential buyers and watered down images to sell their products in part exchange for sexual favours from me, which included anal and oral sex.
Normal sex for these men did nothing to get them hard, it had to be different enough to excite them and seeing my pink holes stuffed with old cocks was like injecting them them with some elixir of youth, drawing their energy from virgins, the younger the better. But it was she herself who opened my true love of what it was that excited me, the touch of a wet vagina on my face, to kiss the swollen labia and clitoris, to taste the sweetness of the estrogen laced vaginal discharge, running copiously onto my curved tongue inside her warm hole and to feel her genuine response during orgasm, as her body shook uncontrollably, on my tongue, it was being pleasured by the sweetest of meats, meats that at willingly borne by mere mortals, but forbidden to mortals by laws made by the rich and powerful, so they and only they, can have and experience the best of the best.
'Forgive me father for I have sinned'. The start of confession, open your heart and confess your dirty thoughts, your masturbation's, and look through the little hole in the panel, to see if the priest is jacking off to your teenage debaucheries.
Of course he knows who you are, I was f******n and had a crush on my priest, so telling him I was thinking about him in a sexual way was just the catholic was of asking him for a fuck.
Father James had a nice cock, it was thick and longish, as many a catholic girl in our town could attest too, was all talked about it and how it felt going in and out and with a secrecy even the the Knights of St Paul would be proud off. Father James had had the 'snip' done, he told each girl that before fucking her in the church itself, on a different pew, each pew had a girls name, he had had so many of us.
In my confession, there was a queue of girl behind me and as I whispered my lustful need of him into the wire mesh separating us, I told him I was without underwear, his cue to look at me through the mesh. I stood naked as he finished with my skirts held high to expose my tiny titties all the way down to my woolen stockings, at the tops of my thighs, my knickers in my pocket and his soft moans making him cum to my brazen nudity.
My reward that day was for him to slide the panel open and such his fingers, to lick the warm semen into my girlish belly, and make a date for a night that coming week, a night when he would place my bared bum on a chosen pew and fuck me, after which I would write my initials on the pew, so my supposed virginity could be recorded in church mythology.
Father James still walks the streets of our fair village, he now resides in a care home run by nuns and he is seen making frequent visits to the pews where he was so active with the girls, the same girls who sit opposite their names with their own little girls, and who introduce them to the same old man, now in his eighties.
I went across to him on one such occasion and introduced my own daughter and as she watched us,. I reached out and touched him on his cock, as did many of my old schoolgirl friends, groping the old priest is a new infidelity our stupid husbands don't know about, but old Father James, loves life, and who would not having your cock felt by two generations of women and the hundred or more girls he fucked, including myself?
I never really focused on anything sexual, that's not to say I never suffered ot experienced sexual behaviour from other people around me, that would have been difficult to avoid as I was a very pretty eleven year old girl with modelling contracts and an athleticism that attracted me to football.
We all have our heroes and heroines and at the football club where I trained the girls all fancied one or the other first team players, but at that age, we were still sexually immature and never felt the urges we would one day, but as for the rest of it, I had my fair share of cock photos and dirty chat, which we giggled at and our hidy-hole, where we watched the guys in the bath.
Once, they had allowed a couple of girls into the dressing room, to sign autographs and take some selfies, the girls were being flirty and the guys started to openly touch them up big time. The girls were about fifteen or sixteen, four years older than I was, but as I spied on them, I realized I was looking at them and not so much the guys with their erections.
One night I slept and had a dream where I was sleeping with another girl and it felt both normal and happy to be in the same bed as she and when I awoke, I still think I had what they call a 'wet dream', as I had a teddy bear between my thighs and I was crushing it hard into my crotch, so hard the head came off, but the feeling I got was both intense and exquisite.
I was almost twelve and it is the point in my life when I became sexually aware and started masturbation, because when you get that first feeling through a wet dream it's perfect sex, even if you don't quite fully understand the mechanics of it, the orgasm and the thought of it was that made me uncontrollably wet.
I gave no more thought to sleeping with other girls and felt my attraction to women was because I was looking for ways to be attractive to men so I embarked on the sexual ritual of dating pretty boys, boys that looked like girls and had a nice smell about them.
My athleticism and enforced training was detrimental to my development, as it was delaying my periods and as such my body was slowly adjusting to womanhood, leaving me with a more tomboyish appearance and I found this upsetting as I wanted to be more womanly with breasts, and those physical attributes that sexually excited men.
I was so desperate, that in my ignorance, I even tried rubbing fresh semen into my flat chest, to make then grow, in much the same way some boys rubbed salt into their chins in the misguided belief that the hairs grow looking for moisture, but the biggest secret I his from my family and friends, was the supply of the semen, I asked my uncle, my mothers brother, whenever I stayed over at his flat in the city, Uncle Bertie was a lady's man with a love for little girls, I knew this because it was he who used to tuck me into bed, and put his hand between my legs and rub me and it was he, who awoke me one night ejaculating into my sleeping mouth and gave me my first taste of warm thick semen.
My next big realization was with another p*******e in the shape of my magazine photographer, an outspoken defender of woman's rights, herself a lesbian, married to a man who was secretly gay and it was she who, when I was just f******n, started taking photos of my nude and showing them to potential buyers and watered down images to sell their products in part exchange for sexual favours from me, which included anal and oral sex.
Normal sex for these men did nothing to get them hard, it had to be different enough to excite them and seeing my pink holes stuffed with old cocks was like injecting them them with some elixir of youth, drawing their energy from virgins, the younger the better. But it was she herself who opened my true love of what it was that excited me, the touch of a wet vagina on my face, to kiss the swollen labia and clitoris, to taste the sweetness of the estrogen laced vaginal discharge, running copiously onto my curved tongue inside her warm hole and to feel her genuine response during orgasm, as her body shook uncontrollably, on my tongue, it was being pleasured by the sweetest of meats, meats that at willingly borne by mere mortals, but forbidden to mortals by laws made by the rich and powerful, so they and only they, can have and experience the best of the best.
'Forgive me father for I have sinned'. The start of confession, open your heart and confess your dirty thoughts, your masturbation's, and look through the little hole in the panel, to see if the priest is jacking off to your teenage debaucheries.
Of course he knows who you are, I was f******n and had a crush on my priest, so telling him I was thinking about him in a sexual way was just the catholic was of asking him for a fuck.
Father James had a nice cock, it was thick and longish, as many a catholic girl in our town could attest too, was all talked about it and how it felt going in and out and with a secrecy even the the Knights of St Paul would be proud off. Father James had had the 'snip' done, he told each girl that before fucking her in the church itself, on a different pew, each pew had a girls name, he had had so many of us.
In my confession, there was a queue of girl behind me and as I whispered my lustful need of him into the wire mesh separating us, I told him I was without underwear, his cue to look at me through the mesh. I stood naked as he finished with my skirts held high to expose my tiny titties all the way down to my woolen stockings, at the tops of my thighs, my knickers in my pocket and his soft moans making him cum to my brazen nudity.
My reward that day was for him to slide the panel open and such his fingers, to lick the warm semen into my girlish belly, and make a date for a night that coming week, a night when he would place my bared bum on a chosen pew and fuck me, after which I would write my initials on the pew, so my supposed virginity could be recorded in church mythology.
Father James still walks the streets of our fair village, he now resides in a care home run by nuns and he is seen making frequent visits to the pews where he was so active with the girls, the same girls who sit opposite their names with their own little girls, and who introduce them to the same old man, now in his eighties.
I went across to him on one such occasion and introduced my own daughter and as she watched us,. I reached out and touched him on his cock, as did many of my old schoolgirl friends, groping the old priest is a new infidelity our stupid husbands don't know about, but old Father James, loves life, and who would not having your cock felt by two generations of women and the hundred or more girls he fucked, including myself?
Jeannie
- 02.08.2021
- 14
- 0
