It was one of those freak weather things in early autumn. One
minute it's sunny and warm, the next, there's a biblical rain
flood pouring down on all the poor, unsuspecting people outside.
Including, I guessed, the girl who delivers my evening paper,
something I eagerly await every evening after coming home to
work. I should probably point out that there are two reasons why
I await the paper so eagerly: one is the paper, because it's an
excellent paper, the second is - of course - the delivery girl.
Oh my, the delivery girl. eighteen-and-a-little, tallish, slim including her hips, brown skin, not tanned but natural. A figure that most supermodels would die for (and most of them probably almost do) but small breasts whose nipples occasionally are trying to negotiate their way through whatever she's wearing at the moment. Brown eyes, slightly almond-shaped, and dark hair that barely reaches her shoulders. Curiously for someone so good-looking, she's very shy. Every time I spoke to her (meeting her in the hallway or for the 'voluntary' Christmas tip) she struggled to look me straight in the eye and seemingly could only manage to utter a few half-mumbled responses. I also met her at an art course I took last year and got to know her a little as a bright young girl, she seemed to like me too, and seemed to trust me, occasionally asking me to pick her up and bring her home. Although I like her, I wouldn't want anything to happen to her and I certainly wouldn't want to be the one that does her harm, so in that respect her (and her stepparent's) trust is justified. That's her then, the paper-delivery girl, I mean it's really her, I can hear her slide the paper through the door.
I rush to meet her, feeling sorry for her and being incredibly aroused by what I saw when she walked to the door downstairs, she somehow always gets in although I live in an apartment block and she also somehow always walks all the way up to my floor to deliver the paper. In this case it's probably a welcome change from pouring rain. She startles as I open the door and try not to stare at her body. She shyly says 'hello' and looks away, giving me the chance to take in the sight of her for a moment. Yellow tank top, yellow jogging-like pants, but with hip bell-bottoms and a black stripe down each side all soaking wet and closely hugging her perfect form. The fabric doesn't show her skin, but it does show her perky breasts and the rock-hard nipples proudly showing themselves. Her pants hug her slim legs and show her incredible ass, and give me an insight into the black thong she's wearing underneath that seems to be made mainly of shoelace, but for the front and that sit low on her hips. All that beauty to take in in just a second. Oh, and she has a fashionable and incredibly soaked shoulder bag with her. I cordially greet her and, guessing that I'm the last in the paper round, suggest that she comes in and dries herself up a little. She seems not to know what to say, so I throw in a nice cup of coffee or tea (figuratively speaking). She agrees and comes in. I decide to be decent and not to jump her, so I suggest that she takes a shower and puts on some of my clothes until hers are a little dryer than soaked and she herself is a little warmed up. I discreetly leave her to herself in the bathroom after donating a pair of cargo pants, a belt and a t-shirt.
A couple of minutes later she emerges from the shower in my clothes, which are of course too large, but look somehow incredibly sexy on her. She re-iterates her earlier concerns about me minding her being in my clothes, I can only truthfully assure her that I really, really don't mind. To test the water, I pay her a compliment about the way she looks, even in this outfit. The reaction is a mixture of shyness, pride and feeling flattered, as far as I can tell. The next moment she stumbles on her shoulder bag, knocks it over, rushes down to pick it up, but manages to turn it upside down in the process, so the complete contents of the bag fall on the floor. Nothing very special, if it weren't for what was in the bag: a pair of black handcuffs, a small leather whip and a black dildo of average size. Being only moderately perverse myself, I immediately turn about the same colour beet-red as she does and I clumsily help her gather everything back in the shoulder bag. She seems slightly relieved at my shyness and bravely smiles, I smile back, but the situation remains embarrassing until I suggest to go into the living room and have some tea. Meanwhile I can't stop wondering whether she likes to cuff or be cuffed, or if she's maybe running some strange errand. Halfway through the tea, she tries to get up too quickly to help me get some cookies and spills tea on the sofa. She immediately gets into a fit of guilt, pleading and practically sobbing, while I, a little alarmed at her state, try to put her mind at ease. She eventually does calm down, but seems preoccupied while mopping up some of the tea. Eventually, she softly confesses she sometimes likes to fantasise about events like these and how they play out, especially her punishment. I show interest, how could I not, a gorgeous sixteen-year old confessing she has fantasies about being punished... We talk about it a little bit, about it being not entirely serious, but very exciting, about not inflicting pain and about respecting each-others boundaries. I am astonished at her candidness and the level at which she has thought these fantasies through. She confesses to having read quite a few bondage magazines and feeling attracted to the strange security of being a 'slave'. That answers my earlier question then: she is the one being cuffed. I indicate my arousal at the whole prospect, as does she, and she asks me to get out of the room while she readies herself, not forgetting to mention that the keys to the handcuffs are in a side pocket in her shoulder bag. I walk out, feeling like I've just witnessed something that went way too fast for my brain to understand.
When I come back in, after being called, I still feel a bit dazzled by the sight. There she is, sixteen, smooth and gorgeous, in nothing but her thong that makes her look even sexier (my penis, which was already half-erect is now at full war strength, throbbing against the inside of my jeans). She is perched over the sofa, with her hands in the cuffs around the dinner table, which stands snugly against the sofa. I can't help but wince at the sight. She looks back, with an incredibly exciting mix of fright and arousal in her eyes and - calling me 'Sir' - invites me to punish her. I get out the whip and position myself behind her, I check once more how far I should go with her and lash out. Not too hard, but she should be feeling something by now, she cried out softly. My whipping left a little mark on her behind, but it disappears quickly, I whip some more and she moans and wriggles incredibly sexily in response. I stop for a second to feel her taut ass and the smooth, now burning skin on it. I slip down between her legs as she moans and opens them a little, letting me feel how soaked the front of her panties are. As I caress and apply a little pressure, she looks like she's in heaven. I suddenly lash out again with the whip, mixing pleasure with pain, the cry she makes is accompanied by a grin that is trying to split her face in half. I repeat the routine, getting up behind her and pushing my by now aching penis against her backside, rubbing a little, worrying that I will come then and there in my pants, rubbing her between the legs and lashing out again. I ask her if she's learnt her lesson, to which she says yes and grins back at me, submissive and victorious, somehow. I say I don't believe her and all of a sudden a hint of fear appears in her eyes. I smile back reassuringly, sort of. I caress her again and begin to peal at her thong, slowly pulling it down, revealing all of her intimacy. I work the thing down but decide to rip it off as she moans impatiently. I then caress her some more and tease her by sliding the whip through her asscrack, slowly moving towards her pussy. She shudders instinctively as she fears I will hit her, but I move away quickly and repeat my promise to respect her boundaries. I replace whip with hand and feel myself coming very close to an orgasm just touching her bare, smooth and soaked cunt. Pushing away the lips, probing her vagina and caressing her clit. The sounds she's making suggest that she is having very much fun, so I continue, groping her small breasts with my other hand and kissing her back. It doesn't take long for her to start shivering and jerking involuntarily. After this orgasm she's exhausted and she falls onto the sofa. I go and get the keys to release her hands from the handcuffs and squeeze in beside her, holding and caressing her. She turns round and kisses me on the mouth.
After some time she starts caressing me, feeling the bulge of my still very hard penis , seductively smiling, she gets up and pulls me out of the chair. She unzips my jeans, as I remove my t-shirt, and pulls them down along with my boxer short, releasing my penis and looking at it with an almost greedy look in her eyes. She lays down on the sofa, on her back, with her legs pulled up above her, revealing her still very wet and very red pussy. I kneel down in front of her and move my penis toward its target. I tease her and myself by touching her vulva with the tip and rubbing it across, mixing my precum with her vaginal fluids. Then, trying very hard not to come at once, I slowly penetrate her. I can feel the soft, hot tightness engulf me. She lets out several almost ecstatic moans and looks at me, encouraging me to go on. Pausing frequently, still to prevent an early orgasm I work my way in, accompanied by very sexy moans from the gorgeous girl who is offering herself to me. Finally completely in, I relax and wait a little. Feeling securer that I won't immediately reach orgasm, I slowly start fucking. She moans even louder and closes her eyes to concentrate on the feeling. I get hold of her legs near the hips and pull her onto me, then push her off again, almost completely leaving her cunt. This is accompanied by disgruntled moans, turning into sighs and moans of pleasure as I move back in, burying my member to the hilt in her young body. I move her legs back and apart to open her further and try how deep I can go, obviously approved by her as she helps pulling her legs apart and slides down the sofa to meet me. I bend over a little and increase the pace, moving from slow, long fucks to shallower but more furious ones. I keep increasing the pace until I feel myself almost coming. I move her legs apart again and bury myself in her as my orgasm takes over. Moaning and jerking, I empty my balls in the young girl who gets sent over the edge by my orgasm and experiences her own, involuntarily contracting and releasing her vagina around my spurting member. We remain locked together for a little longer and then squeeze in together in the sofa to gather our breath. We agree that the whole thing was absolutely awesome and she thanks me. To which I can only stammeringly reply that I should be thanking HER.
