Secret, Saintly Schoolgirl Love - Sex Stories

Secret, Saintly Schoolgirl Love

... like that first note I’d ever learned to play correctly on the violin, sweet and scratchless and clean.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh,” the moans transitioned into breathy little words, and once she was confident in keeping them low, she finally lowered her arm. “You… you really…?”

She reached under my skirt, under my outward poking hand, under my panties, and swept her thumb across that same spot.

I struggled as hard as she had to keep my voice low, as a shot of pleasure jolted out through me from under her thumb.

Hannah’s eyes widened with the thrill of discovery.

“Why,” she gasped, while I kept on running my thumb around in a circle, “why didn’t you start with that?”

I shrugged guiltily. “I guess I just always thought I was weird.”

Hannah smacked me on the shoulder. “I always thoughtI was weird!”

It was the truth. I’d discovered this thing my body could do all on my own. Connecting it to the word “masturbation” had only been a guess before now, based on pieced-together bits of context from Barb’s various jokes. But none of those jokes had exactly been how-to guides. I’d always assumed that, if there were any other girls who did it, they probably did it differently. After all, it was nothing like the sticking-in motion I imagined a penis doing, so it didn’t make any sense that this was what I wanted most when I was worked up and hungry to touch someone.

But here we were, two of us, built the same way, maybe even built in the image of the same facet of ...

... God.

That thought made me incandescently happy.

Hannah went on stroking her thumb right over that spot, that secret spot I could have sworn as recently as this morning that I would never, ever tell anyone about, and I had to learn quickly how to juggle the overwhelming sensation coming in with the coordination it took to give the same in return.

I soon stopped bothering with lining my hand up with my own hips at all, and only focused on how it lined up with Hannah’s.

Maybe I’d been making this whole thing more complicated than it needed to be, trying to emulate some other motion not built for our bodies in particular.

The whole purpose of what we were doing, as well as I could define it, was to act out the special closeness of our love for each other. We were certainly close, and the best expression of love I could think of was to try to make her feel as good as possible.

That was the guiding principle I used to determine my movements. I touched her first the way I liked to be touched, and then did my best to fine-tune that technique according to her responses.

Hannah kept up the contact under my skirt impressively steadily, even when her other hand was shaking against the side of my face, and her eyes sliding in and out of focus.

She didn't go looking for my opening, and I didn’t care, she was right where I wanted her, but my finger inside her didn’t go completely to waste. I discovered that if I worked my finger in gentle movements toward my thumb, I ...