Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3

... pouted, enjoying my little bit of power, relishing the anticipation of sharing and a bit frightened at the same time. Belinda jumped up so fast I had to catch her stool before it fell over. She came back with the chocolate shaker and pounded out two brown clouds, some of which settled over the foam on my coffee. “Details!” “Have you considered a career in waitressing?” I asked, suppressing a smile. “Have you considered a career in comedy?” she shot back. “Details, Jeans. You have five unaccounted hours from when you left the party to when you went to bed. You say you didn’t boff him. Or are you using the Clinton definition? Don’t make me run that red dress under a black-light?” “There are no details,” I laughed in spite of myself. “And no, there are no cum-stains on my dress, thank you so much for the imagery,” and then in a pretty bad Texan drawl: “Ah did naht have sex with they-at may-an!” “You’re serious, aren’t you?” she looked at me sideways. “You had a five-hour pash-fest with Kev.” “Four and a half,” I said. “We walked around the block to warm up for the pash-fest.” “Four and a half hours of pashing?” she studied the red gaps beneath the cold cream with a pained expression. “Uh huh.” “Clothes stayed on?” “Yep.” “Undies too?” “They’re clothes, aren’t they?” I smirked. “The Clinton impression cost you some credibility,” she quipped. “And no coming whatsoever?” “With Kevin?” I asked, knowing she would get the implication. “Bullshit!” she blurted, eyes boggling. “You ...

... sent him away with blue-balls and then went and finished yourself off with that jackhammer you keep in your drawer?” “Oh!” I blushed again, sipping my coffee and looking away. “Sorry, I didn’t realise it was that noisy.” “God, don’t throw it out!” she said earnestly. “It makes Andrew super horny. Rhinoceros-horny. In fact if you could throw in some moaning, you’d be doing me a favour.” “Oh my goodness,” I blushed redder still. “I’d love a way to salvage some dignity from this conversation. I’d tell you I didn’t bother with it last night,” I sniffed my fingers for effect; trying to appear brazen and unconcerned about my masturbation to hide my embarrassment, “but I don’t think it would help.” “Yeah, over-sharing, Jeans,” she frowned. “There’s just one thing still unclear.” “And that is?” I was feeling more confident now, I could see that Belinda wasn’t going to judge me. I probably should have known that all the time. “Why?” “Why what?” I didn’t understand. “Why not get him to finish you off?” she asked simply. “You didn’t kiss him for five hours and decide you didn’t like him.” “Four and a half.” “Whatever,” she waved it away. “It’s not like you’re saving yourself for …” Belinda fell silent with her mouth open, the question unasked. The silence spun out for a few seconds while I watched the results of an internal dialogue play out on her face. “You’re a virgin,” she said finally. I wasn’t as embarrassed as I thought I would be. I wasn’t really embarrassed at all, in fact. It ...