She’d always been a bit quieter than her friends, often preferring her own thoughts to idle conversation. Her imagination was vivid. She’d conjure up intricate fantasies to pass time. Living in a small town, she could never really experiment with guys. People talked too much. She didn’t want to feel ashamed of her desires, if they were to get out.
She’d find solace under the covers. Laying down early at night, the silky sheets against her skin, as she allowed her mind to run free. Her hands would slowly explore her body, running her delicate fingers on her neck and collarbone, working her way down ever so slowly. She’d let some of the darkness overcome her, wanting to give herself to some unknown figure. Taking all he wanted. She felt her sweet little folds start to get wetter, after the first imagined touch on her skin. Needing his large hands to take control, as she felt giddy and nervous, unsure of what’s to come, but knowing she’d do all she could to please. Hours would pass, as she would enslave herself to fulfilling the desires of this unknown man. She wordlessly promised him her body, knowing she was all his. And then, after several climatic moments, she’d adjust and be back to her usual self, swept up in thoughts of her tedious life.
Day to day, her friends were surprised that she wasn’t seeing anyone yet. They were all obsessed with dating. What 18 year olds aren’t? She’d had her fair share of opportunities, having the kind of effortless beauty that burns an image of her forever into your mind. Where you look at her for just that little bit longer than you should. Her long brown hair flowing in waves; piercing light green eyes standing out on her pale skin. Her smile warm and inviting. She’d rebuff their questions, saying she’s not ready to date. No one she met really struck her as being able to give her what she so longingly craved. The overly nice and friendly facades preventing them from being what she needed.
Every day she’d count down until she could exist uninterrupted with her imagination. This happened for a while longer, until she was able to find her way out of her home town. By this stage, her thoughts had progressed far beyond even what she could have ever predicted. Admitting the depravity of her needs was troublesome, even to herself.
Moving to a big city so far away from all she knew really made her examine herself, putting her own attitudes and behaviours into perspective. She was a byproduct of her little town and the time she spent alone. Now, living in a bustling metropolitan landscape, where everyone was so focused on themselves, she didn’t think anyone really saw her. Even the people walking down the street were in a hurry. Forging ahead with their own purpose. Never really looking at her, let alone acknowledging her with a greeting. She’d taken for granted the feeling of being seen by strangers passing by. The little interactions which brightened her day. Occasionally, the men who had looked at her had become part of her fantasies, for the night, and rarely into the evenings ahead. Sometimes they were older, not always bearing the changes of time gracefully, and sometimes they were younger. But they all had one thing in common in her thoughts: they wanted her. Whether it was the glint in their eye, or the way they lingered a little too long, or the obvious ones who blatantly stared, taking her in for their own ends. She could tell what they desired, and didn’t seem to care what she thought about it. The polite hello’s blossoming into her own little secrets hours later.
She felt uneasy admitting to herself that part of her enjoyed basking in the glow of stranger’s attention. They weren’t meant to be looking at her in that way. But none of them seemed ashamed. Why did she now feel guilt that she revelled in their looks, feeling something that she couldn’t get anywhere else. This wasn’t something she felt in her home town, but she knew she needed to feel that way again. She started dressing differently. Shorter skirts. Tighter, lower cut tops. That’s just what it’s like in the city.
Things started changing. The first time she was out at a traffic light, waiting patiently to cross the road, a well dressed middle aged man in a dark navy suit came up beside her. He was busy loudly talking on the phone about something important, which she figured would be more suited to hushed tones. He looked to his right, and she felt the warmth of his gaze on her, as he paused, looking completely at her. Taking in her little yellow sundress, as it hugged her ample curves and skinny little frame. She tried to pretend she didn’t notice, but she already felt the giddiness entrance her and briefly wetness started to swell up inside of her, her new panties getting their first glimpse of her essence. Her heart started racing, while she felt the warmth grow inside of her, her mind flashing back through some of her recent fantasies. It came crashing down, as the man start crossing the road, walking away from her indefinitely, but she clutched onto the feeling brought on by this new experience. She’d never have been able to look like this in her old town, too worried about the repercussions, and people’s judgement of her.
That night after work, she rushed home. She laid down as soon as she could, and was swept away in her own thoughts. She could feel her mind switching into the darkness straight away. Her hand running down her flat little stomach, down her little mound, as she closed her eyes and let out her first moan. Her gorgeous little folds were soaked through, so much of her golden essence running all over her tiny fingers, as they ran up her little folds. She started softly, and was so used to building up, but tonight she couldn’t wait. She thought back to earlier that day, and what that suited man would have done if no one else was watching. If he knew she couldn’t have helped her self. She wanted so badly to be taken. To be claimed by someone who would use her to fulfil their own desires. As she started running circles around her clit, she was lost in the beautiful agony of finally admitting what she really wanted. To be used by people she didn’t know, and give her body to them for their pleasure.
She imagined he’d be a hard task master. That she would comply. Whatever he needed. No matter what he did, how good it felt, or how much it hurt. In her fantasy, she was completely his, to do with what he pleased to her. She’d never allowed herself to put a finger inside of herself, wanting to save herself for her first lover, knowing she’d be all his. But now, in the heat of this moment, as she lay there writhing in new found pleasure, she almost couldn’t help it. She burned too much to not allow herself to feel properly filled. Her breaths quickened as she wanted so badly to spread her little slit open. Needing to jolted in pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head just at the thought. Her fingers quickened, rubbing against her clit, as she brought herself over the edge to her first orgasm. As she looked over, her curtains were open, and she moaned to herself. She was on display for the world to see. Her little studio apartment was on the fourth floor, and she wondered if someone nearby had seen her.
She was tugging at her hard nipples now. Her swollen clit was throbbing, aching to be taken over the edge one more time. She stood up, putting herself on display, as her hand ran down and played with her overly sensitive clit. Struggling to keep her balance, as she moaned breathlessly, she knelt down onto all fours ass up, exposing both her unused holes. She bit her lip, and kept furiously rubbing her clit. Normally she wouldn’t be able to handle an orgasm so quickly again, but she didn’t stop, overwhelmed by the sensation. She didn’t care who could see into her window. She needed this. She imagined the man behind her, taking whichever part of her he fancied most. Feeling his thickness stretch her out, as she took the pleasure and warmth all in one hit. She spanked herself, as she played with her clit more roughly. She started trembling, and even kneeling down she could barely support herself, as her second orgasm hit her like nothing before.
Her whole body tensed up and shook, as she reached new heights. She screamed out, feeling the immense concoction of pleasure and overstimulation, as her pussy gushed. Her juices sprayed everywhere, as she squirted all over herself. Her body uncontrollably moving. She was a wet mess in her own puddle. As she came down from the immense high, she realised how much she needed this in her life. The feeling of being wanted affected her so much, it would be wrong to go without it. She stood up, and fell softly into her silky sheets, basking in her own ecstasy.
She needed to feel this for real. To be at the whim of someone she’d dreamt so much about.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/o9i08f/the_girl_in_the_yellow_dress_mf
That’s a very well written story. Was completely immersed in it. Good job.
Beautifully done !
This is impeccable storytelling. Such a gorgeous pace, letting us discover this girl slowly and intimately. I like your use of contrast, *”his large hands”* and *”her tiny fingers”* ?
I can see your writing quality easily arousing the erotic senses of any gender. To that end, are you going to be writing more chapters to this?
I think everyone here desires to find out what unfolds … vis à vis the *sweet little folds* of our *light-green-eyed, brown haired 18 year old in her ample-curves-hugging little yellow sundress*!