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The Story of Kylie - I&II

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  • The Story of Kylie - I&II

    I posted this at tpowis.net... but I think people here might like it more.

    I

    She stood in front of the her mirrored closet door, breathing deeply, inspecting, feeling. Music throbbed in the background teasing her senses. Looking closer, narrowing her senses she saw what he must have imagined.

    Her gym coach has always been interesting. The kind who you can tell is thinking but is practiced at hiding it. There was always an admiration in his look, but after a full year, he finally said what was bothering him. “Kylie, you may want to consider leaving the bra and panties at home. Without them, your form comes through much better and I think you will enjoy yourself a lot more as well.”

    He said it with such care and thought for her that the comment didn’t strike as anything but genuine and well natured, but now, as she stood observing her bodily response, there wasn’t a sense about her that wasn’t electrically charged and eclipsing all reason that she might muster.

    Everything seemed to be bulging and hot, the tightness of her spandex suit doing nothing but exaggerate every pulse and nuance. While covered, she felt beyond naked but was clearly at home in this sea of arousal and taunt.

    The slightest hint of pattern was clear above her pussy which surprised her. How could she wear such a thing and expose the shape of her trimmed mound? The sudden realization snapped her into an instant obsession to make perfect her shapely form.

    Her bedroom was across the hall from the bathroom next to her brother’s room. He always slept with his door open and it being 1am, she was sure he’d be asleep. Slinking over to the door after quieting her music, she opened it a notch. The feeling of tiptoeing across the hall in her leotard and nothing else was driving her heart to race, and even more, the idea of shaving her pussy bare because otherwise people would see her most private of features drove her mind into a frenzy.

    Ever so gently she pressed the bathroom doorlock into place, hoping the spring-action ping wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. She felt for the lightswitch.

    Opening her eyes to herself in the mirror, everything about her was rock hard and electrically sensitive. With her mound pulsating and thighs burning so intently, it was a bit of a surprise that the bulge at her groin wasn’t more pronounced. But, it was pronounced. She had both hands flat on the counter, legs spread just past shoulder width, and eyes fixed squarely where she felt the warmest of moisture and could seemingly taste her smell in the air. Unconsciously she clenched her vagina, sending waves of intoxicating relaxant throughout her body. Goosebumps raised she gasped a release feeling as though being put under by anesthesia. Her muscles clenched again, driving her hips forward ever so slightly, bowing out her legs and giving just a sense of a thrust.

    She realized her eyes were closed so she opened them lazily. Her gaze still transfixed on this undulating heat plume of sexual tension. In her mind’s eye the entire universe was this connection to her feminine urges. The bodily feeling focus on her pussy caused her vision to zoom in, displaying her thrusted pelvis as the extent of her field of view.

    Beneath the spandex crotch of her garment, her swelling pussy had pedaled open as if a flower. Her inner labia pressed a distinct bulge against the material, with the clearest of crevice visible just above, right where her mound transitioned into the fold of her burgeoning womanhood, and a spreading wet spot glistening with slick, musky substrate just behind her prominent erection.

    She realized, she had a full and complete erection, and she realized it showed through. Her mind cleared momentarily, quizzically considering this, and she voluntarily squeezed her ****, as she thought of it, and saw the ever so slight enbulging of this newfound feature. In fact, her crotch overall became increasingly engorged, every feature highlighted through the grey spandex material as if there were no material at all.

    With odd detachment, she pondered that this would be the view one would have if assisting her with stretching. This fact only served to engorge her further, and her erection bounced again visibly, uncontrollably.

    Everything down there was inflamed, tiny pulses in every tissue sent sparks through her spine. It was then that it was clear that the pressure within was mounting, and as a freight train cresting a mountain the sudden onrush of energy overwhelemed her. A spasm, then another, then another. The material stretching with each. Then, a warm flood. Her crotch soaking. Her legs shook and a breath quickened. She raced to control it all.

    In a deep conflict of runaway heat and a want for composure, she drove herself to squeeze her vaginal muscles tightly, instantly awaking her awareness of her full-feeling bladder. She kept clenching the muscle anyway in an attempt to control her rapidly escalating outburst. She released her muscle and clenched again, only far deeper and almost controlled, and then again, although quickening and slipping her grasp of mastery. The throbbings were even more visible through the violatingly thin material than before. Her vision blurred slightly with each cycle, her hips thrusting with each, fingers curled to grip the inside lip of the bathsink before her. With this strengthened purchase, she felt a massive upwelling within her, translated her hips aft and rolled up onto her feet. Eyes instinctively resting shut and breath drawing in to full depth, her inner ears tightened and her skin tingled and crawled. As if a machine had wound up within her, a great flywheel gaining maximum momentum, she suddenly released.

    Fully thrusting her hips down and forward into a full crouch, her fists clenched the countertop, and her vagina spasmed wildly. Her pussy erupted sweltering pleasure, ejaculating wave after wave of pent up tension, releasing unimagined bounties of warmth and sensation. She was relieving herself all over bathroom floor. Twitching her hips with each internal spasm, jets of ejaculatory urine rocketing through the spandex crotch of her leotard, barely impeded. The contractions rolled past as the seconds elongated. Her breath quipped on inhale and hot on exhale. The perfect synchronization of each spasm, breath, pulsation and ejaculation was impossibly all consuming.

    After an eternity of shameless bliss, it ended.

    II

    She lay atop her bed naked, staring down at her bare mound. It took a while to clean everything up and she figured she might as well do what she went to do and shave herself. She liked the way it looked. She already knew that was how it was supposed to look. She had found pictures on the computer that her older brother had saved.

    She was staring because she was trying to be mad, or frustrated, or something like that at herself. For a little bit as she dealt with the practical consequences of draining her cum all over the floor (that is how she had thought of it, because that is what it felt like) and that felt like the anger she was seeking, but that wasn’t actually there. No, in its place was yet another erection, her **** pulsating, and her realization that yes, she thought of it as an erection, and she had an incredibly urge to ejaculate.

    III - To be Continued

  • #2
    Keep Going!

    More, please!

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