Perc 4 October2012
Sherrie lazily shoves her work books to the side of her bed against the wall. She stretches her arms straight up,straining a little. The muscles in her arm pits shiver in a sexy supple way that reminds me to look to her leg for that delicate little shivering morsel of a muscle between her shin and calf.Sherrie peels her maccosins off with hre toes then flexes her toes ,which press little knobby protruberances against her pure white cotton socks.Sherrie's elegantly delicate ankles silk themselves against the soft fuzzy mouths of their socks.Sherrie's right leg hangs over the bed, beside me.
Although I love feeling her movements, I cross the room to stand in the door of her single suite's private bathroom.Sherrie's left leg curls it's self like a snake beneath her as her fingers lace around the slats of the top bunk bed above her. Sherrie begins to bend at the elbows,arching her back and rounding it alternately as her right leg swung limply back and forth. Muffled grunts begin,sounding almost imperceptible from the sighing of the mattress beneath her movements.
My eyes glued to her every inch,trying to project a face somewhere between 'bored' and 'lost in thought',Sherrie twists at her waist, still hanging by her fingertips to the overhead bed slats.Her legs shift. She begins bending and straightening them. I know what is coming next in this after-study ritual.
I watch her tits shifting under her father's worn-out grey sweat shirt. The bleach stains on the forearms make me fantasize boys in the halls cumming hard in a celebratory popping of corks leaving appreciations of frothy foam all over Sherrie.
Sherrie glances up at me,I manage a small, calm smile:
"Done with the homework?" I ask,stupidly, trying t sound tired and unimpressed...
"Need me to check Algebra?" comes out of my mouth next, as an excuse to hang around.
"Pfft, Like you'd be any help," she growls, then yawns,turning from me.She turns back smiling warmly, her eyes lowered, their lashes fluttering almost a shiver.
I can't maintain my composure so I escape into the bathroom.
"Taco bar later?" I ask loudly as I disappear behind the bathroom door.
We usually raid the cafeteria's salad bar once a month, taking as many veggies as we can fit on our plates to hord in our mini-fridges.
"Ya, I guess, maybe," is Sherrie's muffled reply.
After taking some time to breath, to splash some water on my face, I return to Sherrie to find her books stacked in two even piles at the base and head of her bunk. She has started to stretch her front leg on it's books.
My job is always to 'spot' her, to rub out any kinks and to help keep the pressure in the holds to deepen the stretches.By the end, she usually shames me into practicing too but I am a 'Flyer' so all I have to do is tuck and roll, usually just stay pencil-straight. Sherrie's a 'Flipper' so, she has to do the fancy gymnastics.
"Ready?" she asks.
"Sure,Do you want some water first?" I hand her her water bottle from her bag.
"Ya, Give me some."She opens her mouth slightly, it looks like a new tulip, tender fat and slightly pursed.She bounces on her legs, pressing down on her front thigh with all her weight,both hands on her shin. Her oval nails are white with the pressure of her vice-like grip.
I rest the tip of the rubber nozzle in the cleft of her bottom lip and squeeze a short hard squirt, aiming under her tongue. Sherrie presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. I watch it flex as she swallows the bubbling fizz of water. Seeing it mixed with her frothy saliva, I want to add my own little drop from my mouth into hers.Sherrie grunts for more.
I squirt a larger amount this time. I don't do it as decisively; a thin dripple traces it's way down her chin. I swiftly carress her chin with the crook of my finger and watch the wet slowly seep into my pores.Sherrie's tit grazes my hand as I return the water bottle to the bag. Sherrie straightens herself.
"Okay, Do it."
I place my hands, one on her front thigh, one on her front calf. Her skin is warm and slippery smooth. I loose my self in the lines of her skin.My arms straight, my head and back lowered to fit beneath the bunk, I begin to press down on Sherrie's leg. This is an awkward position but Sherrie claims her linoleum floor's too hard, even with a rug and towels beneath her srotch and pelvis, when they press down beyond her books and pillows.
Sherrie's shoulder leans against my hair,pressing into my ear and cheek. She's getting too settled in the stretch so, it's time to switch position. I squeeze her leg harder and press down as she inhales deeply.I count silently to '10',I am about to release. I look up. Our eyes meet.Hers are languid and expectant. Something makes me keep pressing down. Her eyes, calm and still stay fixed on mine. I am locked in her flecks of brassy-brown. I follow the bluish grey ring around her iris.I imagine her view of my eyes in this light : The polished black-brown of cold stone buttons.Sherrie is studying my eyelashes.I shift my weight. She winces:
"Okay, That's enough.My leg's falling asl**p."
I stare, pretending not to hear.
"Hey!" she shoves me roughly, "Wake up !"
I stmble off the bed and almost bump my head on the overhead bedframe.
"I'm swiching. J*s*s !"
I silently watch her swith her legs' position, her overly long, dexterous toes gripping onto her head and foot board like elegant fingers.To help her keep her balance with her tiring muscles, I tie her to her bed with scarves.I place a pillow to cushion the arch of her back foot against the wood frame and a pillow goes beneath her ankle in the front.
I wrapp the scarf firmly and thickly around her ankle,crossing it over and to the bed post, then back around and under and around and to the bed fram beneath her. Now, Sherrie can barely shift her frame. Iwill need to 'spot' her to make the minor adjustments as she sits in the stretch.I push her piles of books further in to her crotch, now that her ankles are higher, so she's more level.As she sits in the stretch, I will move two books from the front and then the back.
"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to 'shake it out' first?"
"No, I'm fine. The whole point it to build muscle memory. Relax."
"Do you want your water?"
"Maybe later. Now shut up and hold my hips square."
I straddle behind Sherrie, my ass and the tip of my cunt barely touching her back thigh. I hook my palms around her hips bones and massage my fingers as powerfully as I can into the flesh around them .As my weight shift, my pelvis grazes her ass cheek .My knees, thighs and ass strain to stay balanced, not to fall against her , not to sit heaviy on her back thigh.
Sherrie's hair is hot and heavy, the smell of her night time moisturizer and the earthy buttery smell of her skin fill up the little space we are crammed into. I can even smell the moisture and heat of her pajama bottoms. I am pretty sure that Sherrie doesn't wear panties to bed. I've caught glimpses of swelling around the seam of her pajamas' crotch. Their thin rosebud flannel d****s across her ass too well -there's no panty line.
Before I realize it, my fingers are against her skin,hugged snugly there by the elastic waist of her pajamas.
"No panties." Sherrie snarls softly, as though I'd planned this all along.
"Sorry." I pull my slightly moist hands out and clasp her waist.
"Don't be,It's fine." Sherrie's cloud of hair engulfs me as her head turns, her eye meeting mine, her face turned back towards me as far as it can go. Her eye looks at me, waiting and knowing.
My hot face, blushing, burries in her hair. I laugh a little, my smile cathes some of her hair between my teeth. There is a taste slightly metalic, slightly salty,her light sweat and heat, her body, sitting her marinating all this time durinf her homework and her stretches. There is a fresh night time aroma of her,and then her warm fatty juicy skin smell.I have to smell her pussy. I need to know if it's one of the smells I'm smelling, to recognize if we are ever this close again.
I sit up, "Are you about ready?" I ask, getting off the bed and shaking out my legs and neck.
"Ya, I guess." Sherrie eyes me, numbly.Her gaze is almost vacant.
I kneel as if to untie her but, instead, I make sure the knot is tighter. Sherrie, thinking I am about to help her up, has turned to watch. As I move from her back ankle's knot to the scarf on her front ankle, her confused and innocent face is delicious to me. I know my panties are soaked. I want to take them and rub their sticky wet stain in her face . I want to press them in her mouth, show her how much I want her,what she does to me, how strong it is,my body wants her inside of me.
Instead,I lay my face on the bed beside her hot cunt.
"What are you doing?!"
"Something I've been wanting to do for a long time," I reply, in a husky whisper. I inhale deeply,I can almost taste it on my tongue,the sweet slightly bitter smell of wool and grass and salt and lemons and butter and something else...what is it? Is it her? Is that 'Sherrie'? Only Sherrie?
I sit up to face her : "And I think you've been wanting me to do it for a long time, too."
I feel my cunt lips relaease a lazy thick trickle to my aleady soaked panties, their wet spot growing cold in the breeze from Sherrie's window.
"Do you mind if I close that?" I ask, as I cross her room and slam down the stiff window pane.
When I turn back to her, she is rubbing her ankle , her tongue traces across her teeth. Is she thinking of what to say or is she eager for more?
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