Tales Told Out Of School. 1. A Kitten in Delightful Trouble.

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The Building Excitement

Erin thought she might understand, but was not sure she could believe it, or dared to believe it so suddenly. It might become threatening if she admitted to anything; of being attracted to him in turn now that she was getting to know him up close and personal, and was curious about him. Everything had been at a distance before, and neutral. This, wasn't!

“If I told you that you could trust me not to be interested in you in a personally intimate way, or that I did not think you highly desirable and beautiful, it would be obvious to you that I was lying, and you should run. Well, you should run anyway, because I have all of those awkward feelings for you even more than I admitted, and I can’t help it. And I was stupid enough to tell you that I loved you, wasn’t I?"

He touched her cheek and kissed it. She did not pull away. "I recommend you ignore me, wash your hands of me, and do not believe a single word I say.”

It wasn’t that easy. He had been telling the truth and she knew it.

But so soon? He knew so quickly? But he had said, a year. She couldn’t run now, anyway. Not the way she felt, and the condition she was in.

He was digging himself in deeper all of the time, but she had seen and heard enough to make up her own mind. She would have to trust him. She wanted to trust him. It was too late not to.

“Then I have no choice.”

She never did have a choice.

He had not expected her to give in so easily, expecting a long drawn out argument, and never-ending, whys, what ifs, and if you... and more explanations from him before she gave in. Everything must really be hurting her.

“Then lie here, again, just as you were, on your front and I will try to resist finding ways to be even more untrustworthy.”

She only half-believed him. He would always be mischievous, even while being sincere, but she wasn't so concerned about it now, after what he had told her, and said.

“What will you do?” She was being very calm about it.

“The splinters that I saw on you down there, in there, are bigger than the ones I took from your legs."

The bigger ones had gone in deeper, in a usually better-protected place, and that must have happened when she first hit that ramp as hard as she had; all of her weight, slamming her down.

"It will all be very personal, and I will need to be slower and more gentle with those. I don't want to hurt you. We’ll just have to play it by ear when I find out how many, and where they are.”

Provided I do not get too distracted and die first, overcome by an overpowering lust as my heart explodes, along with another part of me.

He said nothing about removing her knickers but, of course, he would have to do that first; that was a 'given'. But one step at a time. He was feeling nervous already.

She bent over the table again. If she co-operated now, it would all be over the sooner, and then she could put this embarrassment behind her… after she blackened his eyes or kicked him where it was sure to hurt, if he put one foot, or one finger in the wrong place, or the right one. She could always apologize afterward. But she probably wouldn’t do any of that to him no matter what he did to her now.

“You’d better not….” She knew for herself that she was wavering.

“What? Miss any?”

“You know what.” He did indeed.

No dereliction. No pokey, pokey into where he shouldn’t be.

“Then I won’t. Or at least I will try not to. Cross my heart and hope to die, but I will have to touch you, perhaps…? No. No perhaps about it. I will have to touch you personally on… your cheeks, at least, and maybe in other, more private places to get at them.” There he went again.

She said nothing. She would cross every bridge when they got to it.

He watched her take up position as before, took hold of her panties on each side and gently pulled them away from her, putting his hand down into them first, behind her, to make sure that splinters did not still poke into the fabric, and tug at her, feeling warm cheeks (Oh, Lord!), moving to the front-- some hair again, and warmth-- then eased them down her legs and over her feet. He paused and closed his eyes for a moment, overcome by his feelings, swearing to himself at what he was uncovering that drove his temperature higher. He inspected her panties for splinters, briefly brought them up to his face, taking a deep breath, setting his feelings tingling again, (he couldn’t help himself) and then dropped them onto the table.

His head swam at what he could see of her exposed to him behind her; softly entrancing, bulbous lips, pink lips, on either side of her intensely interesting, clam-like vulva, not completely closed, revealing fleshy protrusions of her delicate and pink inner labia, as well as a haunting suggestion of where her vagina was. The target area! It would not take much to tease those fleshy bits apart and to touch into that welcoming moistness, and then.... Invade!

A death wish!

Stop that and get on with what you are supposed to be doing!

He would be picking himself off the floor after that.

He swallowed hard. She was truly a mature young woman; mature in every way. He might not survive this. She might not either, but that would be him again, and then he would happily let her kill him if he hadn't already died, overcome by his feelings. The temptations were already too great.

“Are you sure you would not like someone else you can trust, do this for you, Erin? You are going to be one hell of a temptation to me.” Going to be? She already was.

He heard her sob. “You are the only one here, Peter. And I have no choice if I want to avoid having this broadcast around the school. There is no one else. You can’t abandon me now. Promise me you will say nothing.”

He would never abandon her. Facing such a plea, what could he do?

“I promise. And no, I can’t abandon you now, can I. I already told you how I feel." He was now also vulnerable, but not in the same way.

"I will need you to put your legs farther apart.” And damn the temptations. He calmed himself and decided he had to do this without giving in to those other awkward feelings and turning her against him, or him against himself.

She did so, but was still very shy about it.

“They’ll need to be farther apart.” She knew that, feeling him exert gentle pressure between her knees. No room for half-measures. She closed her eyes and complied, feeling her level of vulnerability go up a few more notches the farther her legs were apart and the more she opened herself up.

He shook his head and sighed, not believing that he could actually be here, staring up into this goddess’s vulva, and wondering other things about her now obvious, accessible, and so-invitingly-moist vagina. He had a hard-on that Priapus himself (that Greek fertility deity with a gigantic phallus, just like his, and a permanent hard-on; like those Easter Island and Polynesian statues) would have been proud of. For all the good it would do him. Trouble, more like.

“That’s good.” He picked up her camera again, and backed off a couple of feet to take other photographs of everything he could see and wanted to preserve about this moment for his private archive, then moved in closer and closer, taking detailed shots of everything, with the last half dozen from just a few inches away and below her, covering everything that he deemed important. Every square inch, every follicle, every hair, every delicate, maddening fold of tissue.

Before he gave her the camera, he mailed them to himself again for future reference. If she wanted nothing to do with him after this (and who would blame her?), he would at least have those as memories of what might have been. Sweet nostalgia. What might have been?

He undid the top button on his shorts to try and relieve the unbelievable pressure, but it did too little for his problem. He didn’t do any more than that. He would have to put up with the discomfort.

“There are quite a few splinters I can see, and possibly others that I can’t.”

At least he could still talk coherently, but likely not for long. He intended to take his time about it. He might have to open up more than just a button to release the pressure on him as he did this.

She felt him begin to apply pressure, and move her skin by pushing with his thumb to emphasize and show the splinters he could see, as he looked around this wonderful terra incognita, the forbidden zone, taking his time about it, as well as disturbing another area of interest, seeing her enchanting vertical lips, moving under pressure, and having their own crazy conversation with him, telling him that she loved him too. He actually began to open up more than that, seeing more than a hint now, of her vagina, where most of those lucky splinters were lurking at the edge.

She knew what he would be able to see clearly of her there, and what he was doing, touching, and taking his time about it, but she also knew that she had no choice, so she grinned and bore it.

He gripped at something with the tweezers and pulled slowly, feeling her stiffen. He saw her ‘lips’ close tightly together for a moment, as she clenched herself.

This, was interesting!

It had also hurt her. He heard her gasp.


He was vibrantly conscious of his face close into her where no one had seen her or touched at her ever before. If he leaned in just a little... then he could kiss... lick… even breathe of her there. He wanted to, but didn’t.

He groaned inwardly. This was not fair.

He slowly took out those splinters that he knew about, telling her about each one that he could see, but not about his other tormented feelings, and then put the tweezers on the table.

Now for the ones he couldn’t see.

She felt him use both hands and begin to spread the lips of her vulva apart, even opening her vagina to expose more of her there.

“What are you doing?” Her voice showed her growing concern.

He paused. “There are others that are still not easy to see, Erin. I need to see them before I can get them out. You got these when you first slammed onto that board.” She had to accept that.

"You are too tense. You will have to relax for me to get at the more difficult ones."

Asking her to relax with what he was doing, and her actually relaxing, were two entirely different things, but she tried.

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