Schoolgirl Fantasies

By | June 18, 2008

My girlfriend at school had a really tasty brother. You know the type older than you, long hair, listens to rock music goes to the pub. Probably has an electric guitar in the corner of his bedroom (not that I looked or anything).

I used to go round to her house regularly. Trying all the womanly gestures and wearing low buttoned clothing in an attempt to arouse him, to make him look at you just once with desire. Yes I have always been a very sexual person, but not to the extent of being promiscuous, least not until now.

No matter how many times I called round to her house with skirts getting ever shorter, blouses opened wider. He just didn’t seem to notice me. Oh no, the last line sounded like lyrics from a song.

Unfortunately my love lust was unrequited and he never made a play for me. As young girls do, I moved my attentions to another friend’s brother. He turned out to be a bit of a git, but his friend Sean wasn’t, he seemed to be thoughtful and even better a man of means. Being older than me by a few years, he was working.

This relationship didn’t last long, he had a fundamental problem. He was given to violent mood swings. Yes, I wont bother going there. Needless to say, I soon blew him out.

Another guy who caught my eye as a teenager was the local farm hand. He would walk past my parents house early morning to work and in the evening when going home. I would try to catch a glimpse of him from my parent’s bedroom window. I knew exactly what time he would be passing. Oh, I’m beginning to sound a little creepy, aren’t I?

No, I think this behaviour is normal for a teenage girl with desires and emotions. Anyway back to the story. He was a tall slim, blonde guy and he looked great in a Barber jacket and green wellingtons. I frigged many a night to my mental image of him. This desire went on for some time but came to nothing and just faded away as the others had.

That is until one day when I was older, I befriended a girl who’s parents were quite liberal minded. So despite the fact that we were both 17 years of age, she would let me stay over at weekends and pub-crawl the local hostelries with her daughter. It was great. One weekend we were out as usual and she called over a guy from the other side of the room to join us.

I nearly dropped, it was only the blonde farm hand that I had spent many a pleasant evening fingering myself over. “This is Pete”, she said introducing me to him. One thing they both were unaware of was that I already knew his name.

This could have been a once in a lifetime chance to fulfil your dreams (quite literally). It was a huge disappointment to me but the guy had no personality and was quite stupid. I soon changed my mind about him and it goes without saying that I did not mention to either of them, my lustful past.

School discos were always great places to try and cop off with the boy you had been waiting to chat up for ages. We had a guy in our school that could really strut his stuff on the dance floor. All the girls would marvel at him when he took to the floor. He was a slim medium height, brown eyed guy. Most of the girls fancied him and I suppose there was a little bit of competition for him.

We all tried to get off with him but to no avail. Later we discovered why. He was gay and seeing another guy. Oh, well.

I took a little break from chatting up guys for a while, letting opportunity take it’s course. All the ones I had targeted in the past failed.

My next encounter was when I started my first job. I was working hand in hand with a guy (I wished). He was the really understanding type who will sit and listen to you withering on, you know the kind.

As the weeks went by I began to fantasise more and more about him. I couldn’t wait to get to work in a morning, that’s how bad I had it.

My opportunity arose as Christmas approached. The office Christmas party date was set for 12 of December. I wasn’t going to miss it and my chance to get close to him.

The night was very good, we had standard Christmas fair and lots and lots of alcohol. He became increasingly mellow and I began to stroke his ardour (not that you smutty people!). We were getting along like a house on fire. I laughed at his jokes, him at mine, you know the kind of thing. Lots of stocking top accidentally exposed and rubbing up close to him.

By the end of the evening he was definitely interested. He invited me back for coffee, I know cliché but you can’t openly state that, “I would like to fuck you doggy style over the back of my sofa”. We both knew this was a metaphor for come home with me I want you.

Yes, we had the coffee and the soft lighting, accompanied by some rock music. Then the moment came, we moved close in and almost simultaneously began to undo each other’s clothing.

It wasn’t long before we were naked in his flat. I was spread eagle on his scatter cushions in his living room and he “made his entrance”. The disconcerting thing was I really hardly noticed. I’m not sure if he was too nervous to become fully erect or if he just didn’t have what it takes to please me, but it just didn’t work.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I gave a great performance, writhing and bucking and moaning like a whore. He came and laid back against the cushions with a look of satisfaction but unfortunately I felt disappointed and wanted to go home.

I made a speedy retreat and avoided that situation occurring again. Shortly after I managed to get a better paid position with another company and we parted our ways. Just as well really the situation had become very strained.

Now what can I draw from this, well I suppose what I am trying to say is that It is very enjoyable to fantasise about someone, but in reality things are not always that good. Don’t’ engineer situations to try and fulfil your dreams, let things take their natural course and the results are astounding.

Which is exactly how I met Alex.