An End to Bullying
- 4 years ago
- 27
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Damn! Nearly 2 weeks has gone by since I've had time to update my tale of Sweet Bridget. Some things have developed. Here goes...
She and I have had a couple of dates, which is how I'm referring to our outings, since I posted about this a couple of weeks ago. We've become social network friends and we're emailing pretty much daily. I'm also stopping in the store to see her as I always have.
Here's something fun, that's been quite titillating for me. I haven't really touched my sweet girl, other than to hug her and exchange kisses on the cheek (Something more than that did nearly happen, but I'll get to that in a bit). However, I now know something about her choices in underwear! On 2 different occasions last week, while I was visiting her at work, Bridget either bent down or squatted down behind the counter in her store. When she did, her pants rode down a bit, and I saw her undies.
(I know this must sound so pathetically like a Middle School boy, or maybe a dirty old man talking! That's how I feel sometimes! But hey, I'm taking what I can get!)
The first time I got a glimpse, I saw that she was wearing gray cotton panties, with fairly thin, horizontal black stripes. They were very cute, and I imagined her wonderful round ass in them all that day and night.
A few days later I got another view, and this time she was wearing a black thong! Oh my, did that get my attention! I tried not to stare, but then I realized there was no one else around to catch me looking, so I drank-in the view for as long as I could. My pussy got a serious workout that night, and the next morning as I pictured her in that thong and a matching black bra. Of course, I also repeatedly imagined myself peeling those garments off of her and attacking her soft, nicely padded body. It makes me tingle down below just thinking about it. Yay! I like tingling!
Bridget and I continue to have fun together, and I'm learning more and more about her. Given things she has already said, the background she has shared recently makes some things fall into place, such as why someone as sweet as her didn't seem to have gotten too much attention at home. We talked all about it while I was driving one afternoon.
"I'm basically in the middle of two brothers who took lots of my parents' time," Bridget told me on one of our long drives.
"What was that about?" I inquired.
"Well, my older brother is really smart, athletically gifted and all that. Your basic overachiever. So they were always spending their time at his games and working with him on his homework and school projects. Then he was in honors classes in High School, and he got all kinds of scholarships, which took more of their time. And then there was the two year college search."
"Hmm ... Your basic nightmare of sibling situation," I said with a chuckle.
"More or less. Then there's my younger brother. He's a great guy, but he has some learning challenges. Keeping him as much in the mainstream as much as possible took the rest of their time. I was pretty much self-sufficient, so they figured I didn't need anything. I really don't want to sound like a drama queen, with all the middle child crap."
"Oh, Sweetheart," I said as soothingly as I could while patting her knee, "I'm sorry things were that way for you. I hope you know that you're just as worthy of your parents' time and attention as either of your brothers. I'm also glad to hear that you've tried to rise above that stuff."
"I know. But overall, it's not a big deal, Lauren."
"Of course it is, Bridget! You are so special, Honey. I really mean it. The more I've gotten to know you, the more I want to know."
"You seem like you really want to like, know me," she commented.
"I do, Bridget. So, so much."
"Why?"
Her question caught me a bit off-guard. Why? The fact that she would ask that so sincerely told me a lot about her self-esteem ... or what there is of it.
"Why?" I repeated. "I don't know how to get this to sink into that adorable little head of yours, Bridget, but you're someone worth knowing. You have so much to offer to people, to the world around you."
She turned her head and looked at me. I looked at her briefly, making sure to keep my eyes on the road.
"You really don't know me, Lauren. If you did, you might not want to know any more."
"That's ridiculous," I replied.
She was silent for a few moments, then I stole a quick look. It seemed as though she might cry.
"Why, do you want to know me anyway, Lauren? Seriously."
"Bridget, Sweetie ... I just don't know how else to explain it to you. I just, like you. I've known you for months now. Maybe I don't know everything about you. But I know a fair amount, I think. I just do. You're special, Honey. You're special to me."
She was silent again.
"Nobody's ever really wanted to get to know me before," she said softly, "unless they wanted something from me."
"Like what, Sweetie?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"You know, men, guys," she replied.
"Ohhhh..." I said. "You mean, guys have acted like they wanted, what ... a relationship?"
"Yes, pretty much."
"But what they really wanted was..."
"You know. To get in my pants."
"Mmmm ... I'm sorry about that, Bridget."
All of a sudden I was again wrestling with a dilemma, not for the first time. I really did want to know her. I do want to know her. I care about her, very genuinely. I'm absolutely certain about that. But, without her having the slightest knowledge, I also really want to get in her pants! I decided that it's O.K. for me to keep thinking about it. And I'm still confident that it's not my goal to sleep with Bridget. I'm sure of that. I knew in that moment and I know now that if being her friend means never taking another step toward her being my lover, being her friend will win-out. Phew! I feel better ;-)
"Thanks, Lauren."
"I really mean it, Bridge. You just don't deserve to be taken advantage of. You're too good a person, too good-natured, too kind and sweet. Unfortunately, I also know that's part of life. So, while I'm sorry you got your heart broken, or whatever exactly happened, I hope you learned some things along the way."
"I did, for sure. I think each time I learned a little more about how to tell who I can and can't trust."
"Well, then it wasn't for nothing, you know?"
"I know. And you know what else, Lauren?"
"What Sweetheart?"
"I think you're like, the best! I feel like you really, really care about me. And it feels so good. And I trust you."
"Oh, Bridget!" It was my turn to feel like I was gonna get teary. "Oh, Honey, thank you! And I really, really do feel that way about you. Thank you!"
"No, thank you, Lauren. And you know what else? I really, really care about you too."
Damn! What more could I ask for?
We met again the week after that, which I think was last week at the time I'm writing this. We decided to walk around a local art museum on a Sunday afternoon. It was the most leisurely, relaxing time I can remember having in a long time. It was a nice day outside, so most people were out enjoying it, which meant there weren't many around the museum, which was fine with us. We just walked and talked and looked at the exhibits. Neither of us is a huge art expert, though I'm sure I know more than her, not that it matters. Mostly we enjoyed each other's company.
One very cool thing was that we started making some physical contact. The whole time we were touching each others' hand or arm while we were talking, or showing each other things.
"Look at that!" she would say, pointing with one hand as she put the other on my shoulder.
"Oh, that's cool!" I'd reply, finding some way to return her touch.
A couple of times we took each others' hand so we could lead the other toward something we really wanted to see. And I don't think it was my imagination that we were both keeping our hands together longer than necessary sometimes. On top of that, all we did was joke around and smile and laugh the whole time. It was glorious.
Our conversation wasn't too serious, although I did learn more about her. She played soccer and field hockey in High School and was fairly good at both. She was in several serious relationships, including one with one of the guys who just wanted to get in her pants. Apparently there were 3 of those, plus 2 guys she really cared about. I was quite glad she wasn't a virgin, and also glad that she knew how to be in a relationship long term. I'm really not looking for some kid who needs to be parented. Of course ... should we end up in bed, and should the name Mommy rear it's head, I won't complain! Having said that, there was no mention of a relationship with, or an attraction to a girl. But that's not necessarily something she might tell me upfront either.
Now, here's what nearly happened. We were having a fun and playful time as I've said. We walked into an exhibit of various kinds of video art, displayed on small screens mounted behind plexiglass. Several of them were in dark little alcoves. We walked together into a couple and had to squeeze together to do so.
"Wow, it's pretty tight in here," Bridget said at one point.
"I don't think these little booths were really meant for two people," I said. "But it's kind of fun to try, isn't it?"
We both laughed as we sort of squeezed out. A minute later we were in another one, looking at a video an artist had made using images of nature. It was quite lovely. We again pushed in together to see it better.
"Nature, up close and personal," Bridget said.
"Up close and personal is kind of fun, huh?" I replied.
We laughed again, but we didn't move. We stood perfectly still, pressed against each other. We looked together at the screen.
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“So, Hi, my name is Bexley Devereux, and the most special man on the planet is Bixby Devereux, but most everybody calls him Bix, but regardless of all that I call him daddy, well, because he’s the best father any girl, (let alone a horny little slut like I am) could ever ask for. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. First thing that you should know is that while this story “type” might be pretty commonplace, but I seriously doubt there are that many like me out there really. I mean, if...
IncestI climbed to the mouth of the well, which, according to Robinson, is 125 feet in depth, and drank from an old leathern bucket, worked up and down by a coil of rope drawn over a beam suspended for the purpose, bestowing a small baksheesh upon the Arab who drew for me. The quality of the water seemed to me to be far better than that of Siloam, and is highly esteemed in the city, an immense quantity being Nike Zoom Kobe sent up daily on donkeys. There is a constant supply, and in rainy weather the...
Angela Garcia was working hard answering phone calls and taking notes for appointments. She worked as a secretary for Mr. Marcus Freeman, who was the head of a publishing company. Mr. Freeman usually gave Angela a big workload which kept her very busy especially this time around the holidays. With this long list of assignments, she thought she deserved some extra Christmas bonus but what she didn’t know her bonus wasn’t like anything she imagined. Angela was a pretty clever young...
Mark walked into the cold house, he and his mother lived in."Hey Darling, I'm in the living room," Mark's mum Helen called from the other room and he went to her. He walked in the living room and wondered what was going on. Mum was making a giant bed made in front of the fireplace and it was set up for two people. "What are you doing?" he asked and hoped that Mum wasn't having a man over, but she hadn't dated in the last few years and this was a big surprise.His mum was 33 and she had shoulder...
Karen's Romance Part Four ? by: Norman O. Johnson This Is Not a Courtroom Drama ? I stood before my full-length mirror for a last look at my ensemble: a navy skirt and jacket with white blouse, very conservative, with stockings and low-heel black pumps. In the cold damp weather we were having then, stockings would keep my legs very warm under a skirt. "So, how do I look?" "Like a very reformed reform school girl," came my mother's voice from where she was standing in the...
He wanted to see the asshole slut take a full 1 liter bottle into his asshole. A full 4 inches in width and radically ribbed. If this monster was inserted and stroking would surely wreck is asshole for daily fistings. Everything was set and had been stroking a beer can thick dildo in his loose asshole for a solid 1/2 hour now, forming puffy ass lips and a huge hanging hole. He would start the insertion by trying a normal 16 oz water bottle in his rectum. He had collected all sizes and shapes...
Pyewacket was hit by a car, today. She may be injured or worse. Worse would mean she died after leaving the scene. If we could find her ... we could take her to the vet. But we can’t. She’s not in her normal hiding spots... We know she was hit by a car because the driver stopped and searched the street. We heard the squall of tires and looked out the window. Since the auto was sideways in the street, we went outside. “Problem?” I asked the sixteen year old blonde. “I think I hit your...
“Well, that's forty dollars down the drain,” I bemoaned, remembering my shortsighted choice of Nick's semen as a personal lubricant and already dreading my trip to the pharmacy for a plan-B pill. For now, however, I was back in good spirits with a cold milkshake in my hand and cool breeze up my skirt. My choice of beverage was a fitting one considering my school nick name. Called “The Ice Queen” since junior high, my recent breast development had my classmates switching to “The Dairy...
I felt my body move forward as Brantley pierced my hot wet sexual opening. I felt the head of his long erectness sink into my pink center. I gasped a huge gulp of air and let it out with an, “OH FUCK,” because that is what it was and well, quite frankly, I was not ready for his size. Yes, I was wet, really wet, but my pink walls were unable to fully wrap around his thickness as he tried to fill me. He was that big.Brantley grunted as he tried to get his hardness inside me. He even tried to...
IncestI've been working for her about two months now. I'm her secretary, she's my boss. That's all our relationship should ever be, but sadly she's the only thing on my mind. She's the first female I have ever found attractive. I mean come on, she's fucking gorgeous with her flowing dark hair. She has green eyes, but not just any green, it is a green that reminds you of the sea. I watch her luscious, full lips, every time she has spoke to me and I could only wonder how it would feel to press my lips...
LesbianSo this story it's true and i will never forget, because this was my first time that fucked a mature lady. this happen a few months ago .So this is how it started, its was a saturday ,i wasn't doing that much. I get a call from my best friend Tony, Tony:'Hey dude what are you doing?' .Me:'nothing just here home not doing much'Tony: Are you down to come to my family party cuz this shit is boring and i want you to hit up everybody so we can turn this place up sight down and get it cracking...
The DST Agent, part 12 By: Malissa Madison Toni was a real wonder as she seemed to be going out of her way to make sure Top and I had enough private time together. "I called Dr Baldwin," I told him. "I have that appointment tomorrow, and he said he could fit her in," I bit my lip hoping he would agree. Instead of answering he called out, "Toni? Could you come here a minute?" She looked unsure as she entered our bedroom, "Yes Daddy?" "It's your surprise love why don't you ask...