Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 3

... bedroom?” Note to self: Belinda doesn’t like her decisions being questioned. “But I … um … don’t …?” Not only didn’t I understand, I couldn’t finish a sentence either. The clasp on the strapless bra is at least as tricky as any other. There was a principle here that I was missing. “You untuck your blouse, pull the bra down to your waist, and voilà!” With her head buried in the closet again, Belinda gestured grandly with a pair of red pumps to underscore her point. “You’re completely gropeable and still dressed for polite company. It’s good for getting felt-up in secluded car parks, movie theatres and on late-night public transport … it’s the versatile bra!” Oh my goodness! My forebrain wasn’t thrilled at the idea of letting Kevin touch my breasts in a semi-public setting, but my nipples thought differently and immediately firmed to rigid peaks as I felt a shiver run down my spine. I quickly put on the strapless bra before Belinda could turn around and see how easily she had aroused me. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick out my panties as well,” I muttered ironically, quickly stepping out of my jeans and pulling on the skirt. “No need,” she emerged from the closet still holding the red pumps. “You won’t be wearing any.” She stood for a moment regarding my shocked expression, frozen in the act of straightening the skirt. “C’mon. Take them off,” she said, snapping her fingers at me, letting me know there would be no discussion. “I already did,” I lied. “Show me,” she challenged, ...

... raising a blonde eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not showing you my … bits!” I was flustered. God, I don’t know why I couldn’t say ‘pussy’ in front of her after the stunningly detailed virgin-buster tutorial she’d provided earlier. “Flash your bum at me then,” she smiled. “Or you could just stop fibbing and take them off.” “I can’t go without panties in this,” I pleaded, holding out the skirt. It flared airily out from my hips and made me feel really exposed; it was really designed to be worn with tights, not bare legs, and it certainly wasn’t designed to be worn without panties. “This is why women don’t have orgasms during unplanned sex,” Belinda instructed me with a waving finger. “They put up too many barriers. If you do all the foreplay with your undies on, then you give him a head-start. If you let him squeeze your tits and rub your pussy through …” “Language!” I interrupted. “… through a layer of fabric, then don’t expect him to come back and start over once you both get your gear off.” I must have looked like a rabbit in the headlights, because she sat me down on the bed and used a kinder voice. “Virgin foreplay is done with clothes on because no-one is brave enough to undress until you get to at least third-base, and it can last for an hour of more until someone gets up the courage to make the next move.” She took my hand. “With undies on, you’re going to miss out on the longest, sweetest, skin-on-skin foreplay of your life. With undies off, the worst case is you come before ...