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Message-ID: <61726asstr$1321827089@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2011 07:45:28 -0600
From: Angelique Rich <angelique.rich@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Tease (teen, exh)
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Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2011 17:11:29 -0500
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I feel him look at me. He sits next to me in the car, driving through
the night and although he doesn't say a word, I know what he's
thinking. I ask myself the same question. How could I possibly get
into such a situation?

-o-

I was about 13, when I discovered the pleasures of my fingers. It
wasn't a sexual thing first, it was just something I did and that felt
good. The first time, I had been reading a book and was rubbing an
itch I felt "down there". Soon the sensation got more intense and I
rubbed myself through my panties for a couple of minutes. I don't
think I reached an orgasm, but it felt nice. It felt so similar to the
satisfaction of scratching a mosquito bite and I continued doing it,
sometimes a couple of times a day.

A few weeks later I was caught by mom doing it while we watched TV.
She wasn't mad or anything, she just told me I shouldn't do it when
others were around. She didn't tell me why and I didn't ask.

I reached my first orgasm when I was almost 14. That day, I did it the
first time directly on my pussy, not through my panties. Touching my
lips with my fingers felts so much better and I stopped reading to
concentrate on the sensation. At one point, the itch was being
replaced by warmth that started to spread from my pubes and for some
strange reason I felt the urge to breath harder. My other hand
followed the warmth to my chest and began to caress the soft swell of
my almost inexistent breasts. I soon found out that a slight pinch of
my strangely swollen nipples sent a spark to the place the other hand
was rubbing, rubbing more franticly now and soon I was in a circle of
rubbing, pinching, rubbing and pinching. My fingers smeared the
wetness they found between my lips on the source of heat, strangely
intensifying it rather than cooling it.

The intensity of the sensations did scare me a bit, but I didn't stop,
unaware that my breath had changed into moans. Feet were sliding over
the sheets of my bed without aim as the rub-pinch cycle got more and
more intense until the heat exploded suddenly, causing my legs to trap
the hand between them tightly as my body shook and shivered. I didn't
know back then what just had happened, but, as scary it had been to
loose control over my body so suddenly, I also knew it felt wonderful.

When I told mom about it, she smiled and hugged me tightly and when
she explained to me what happened I did have the impression, she was
secretly proud of me. Did I mention I have a cool mom?

Three weeks later I came home from school early, as we got evacuated
because of a pipe burst in the building. I was about to call mom,
telling her I'm home, when I heard the sounds. Soft moans, growing and
ebbing in urgency, moans very similar to mine. I smiled, thinking mom
was doing the rub-pinch thing too and, out of an impulse, decided to
peek.

When I reached the bedroom, I realized I was hearing two people moan.
I don't know how long I was standing there, torn between the knowledge
I was about to brake mom's privacy and curiosity. It had been quite a
while since mom had a bf last time, so I never thought of her as a
sexual person, and after a while the sounds behind the closed door
made my curiosity win. She had a big closet with door mirrors next to
her bed, and when I carefully opened the door a bit and peeked trough
the gap, I could watch them in the polished glass.

I admit, what I saw was as fascinating as it was scary back then. She
was kneeling next to the bed, facing away from the mirror, her wrists
tied behind her back by a colorful tie. Behind her was dark haired
man, crashing his hips violently against her ass. For a moment I
thought he was hurting her, but then I realized her moaning voice was
begging him not to stop. A hand in her hair pulled her head back,
forcing her to bend her back in an arch. I couldn't understand what he
asked when he bent forward and talked to her ear, but it had her
whimper and, although her voice sounded as if she was crying, I did
understand her "yes, yes!" as his hand started to fall with a terribly
loud slap on her ass over and over.

It was a violent scene I was watching at 14, so not like I imagined
making love would be like. And yet, as violent as it was, I recognized
mom's gasps, whimpers and little screams. I listened to him asking her
if she likes being fucked like a whore, listened to her ragged,
aroused screams until I saw her body convulse violently. I heard his
groans, heard him grunt as he told her, how her fucking hot cunt was
milking his cock and watched him press himself against her ass, his
arm around her hip, pulling her as close as he could, his hips
twitching as the muscles on his ass spasmed.

I closed the door and sneaked out of the house. Somehow I knew Mom
would not be cool if she would learn I spied on her and I headed for
the wood behind our house. I had a terribly hot itch to take care of
and I needed solitude.

The next days had my mind replay that scene all over and each time I
ended up in my room, fingers drenched in my wetness and gradually, my
mind replaced mom with myself as I imagined my hair being pulled and
my soft ass being spanked. My body had begun to develop and I squeezed
my perky breasts painfully. When I was alone at home, I knelt next to
the bed, just like her, a hand busy between my legs, fingers rubbing
my pussy that now was a cunt when I knelt next to my bed, and the
other hand spanking myself. Just like her, my moans grew more intense
as the heat from the spanked skin mixed with the heat on my cunt and,
just like her, I screamed out as the heat suddenly engulfed my whole
being, causing my body to tremble and spasm as if I would be in
serious pain and yet it was pure, addictive and taboo lust I was
feeling.

I waited for Mom to tell me about her new boyfriend, but that never
happened and I of course never asked. A week later I had my first
menstrual period and the discovery that I was no longer a little girl
was so much more interesting than Mom not introducing her bf to me, so
I almost forgot about him. Looking back, it seems as if it took me
only a very short time to turn from a little girl into a young
teenager, with wider hips, perky b cup breasts and all.

I admit, it didn't take me long to discover that men looked at me in a
different way as well. Riding the bus, eyes lingered on my breasts and
legs and darted away with a guilty expression when I caught them.
Brief as it might have been, it was long enough to start that familiar
tingle and have me imagine their thoughts, their naughty thoughts. I
loved this game and soon my skirts got shorter, the tops and pants
tighter until Mom interfered and told me I was starting to look cheap
and slutty. We didn't have an argument, instead she took me to the
mall and helped me pick a summer dress. It had a tight waist, and then
flared lightly, ending just above my knees, accentuating my hips like
none of my other cloths. The top was almost shoulder free, displaying
just a hint of my swelling breasts. I looked at myself wearing it in
the mirror and had a huge smile on my face as I realized how sexy it
made me look without the cheapness of a daringly short skirt. I hugged
her tightly and heard her whisper "Remember, you don't need to look
cheap to look good!"

I'm sure I was glowing with pride, feeling grown up and sexy as we
left the mall and hopped on the bus, smiling back at all the men who
looked at me and when one guy passed us and turned his head to catch a
second look of us, we both giggled in mad, silly, sexy pride.

We were always just getting along financially and having a daughter
who discovered the excitement of fashion probably put more stress on
our financials. At that time, Mom got a second job and worked three
nights a week in a bar, usually Thursday through Saturday. I assumed
it was a waitress job and when I asked, she laughed and told me I had
to wait visiting her at work until I would be old enough to be allowed
to enter a bar.

Although having a very healthy need to take care of my "itch", I'm
proud to say that I was a good girl and did not let boys get their
hands into my pants, even when being left alone at home three nights a
week. It's not that they would not have tried, but boys at school were
just that, boys, silly and loud. Maybe it was because of that one time
I watched mom being fucked and spanked by her lover, but I just got a
bigger thrill when adult men were secretly staring at me. Although,
that was always all they did. Secretly stare and then quickly look
away when I caught them. At least, that's how the game was being
played until that day in the mall.

That day I was in a tight tube top without bra and a very short skirt
over a pair of black, slightly sheer, tight leggings. I knew Mom would
have called that outfit cheap, probably even worse, would she have
known I wasn't wearing panties, but she was at work in the bar.
Knowing it wasn't how I was supposed to dress made me feel sexy and
daring as I strolled through the mall. I felt my breasts jiggle as I
walked, and I didn't had to look down to know my swollen nipples were
pressing against the thin fabric of my top, putting them on display in
a very naughty way. A guy in his early twenty watched me with a wide
grin on his face as I walked by him, his eyes, glued to my bouncing
breasts made me feel as if they would not be covered. I felt the heat
on my face, heat that wasn't caused by embarrassment.

I spent over an hour in the mall, bathing in the horny stares, stares
that made my pussy melt and turn into a soaked cunt that stained the
thin crotch of my leggings. I noticed an older man following me
through the mall. He was about forty, dressed in a slightly worn
business suit and showing a bit of a belly that gave his shirt a hard
time to remain closed. I was in a shoe store, watching him from the
corner of my eye as he was pretending to look for shoes as well,
standing maybe 5 yards from where I was. I was facing away from him,
bending at my waist to get a pair of sneakers from the bottom shelf. I
took my time, the thought of him staring at me, the thought of the
slightly sheer fabric barely covering my naked skin as the skirt rose
way too high, sent shivers down my spine. With the sneakers in my hand
I sat on a chair, trying them on, pretending not to realize the skirt
was sliding up my leg, almost exposing the soaked crotch of my
leggings. A quick glance revealed he was now openly staring at my
crotch, a sight that made me almost touch the moist cloth I knew he
was trying to see. He knelt down, pretending to look at a pair of
shoes in a bottom shelf. I pulled my right foot close, pretending to
struggle with a knotted shoe lace, my knees pushed to the side,
allowing him an unobstructed view to the soaked crotch of my leggings.

After a few seconds I got up and left the store. I felt my heart beat
in my throat, the rush of allowing him to stare at the soaked crotch
piece was almost as being high on drugs (not that I would have known
how that feels). I couldn't believe what I just had done. Less could I
believe how it felt. The moment he knelt down, with the only purpose
to be able to stare up my skirt and get a quick look at my crotch, the
moment I opened my leg for him was almost as intense as when the
rub-pinch game approached it's climax. I almost ran from the store not
because I was embarrassed of being caught. I left, becauseI had to
stop as I was suddenly afraid it would happen, that I would have an
orgasm in the middle of a shoe store.

I found myself in the mall's Starbucks, my hands wrapped around the
safe warmth of a tall Latte. The wetness of the soaked leggings
reminded me what had just happened. I stirred my coffee and was
licking the foam from the spoon when I saw him. Sitting two tables
away, his back to the wall watching me lick the spoon. He had been
pretending to be reading a news paper, but watching my tongue lick the
milky foam had him stare again. I dipped the spoon into the foam
again, scooping up some more. I don't know what devil was riding me,
but I looked square at him when I did it again, licking the foam from
the spoon before I slid the metal in my mouth and pulling it out
slowly, all the time looking in his eyes.

His face suddenly contorted, as if he would feel pain. It was then I
noticed his right hand had been under the table all the time. His
shoulders twitched two, three times and then he got up, leaving
quickly without looking at me. I watched him leave and it took my 15
year old brain a few seconds to understand what just had happened.

When it did, the sensation was intense. Hot. Burning. Terrible.
Terribly exciting. My left hand was under the table, giving my soaked
crotch a tight hug and was pulled away an instant later.

I just teased a man so much, he came in his pants. It was the most
intense emotion I felt in my young life so far. Well, at least it was,
until my orgasm hit me later in my bedroom like a freight train as I
imagined his cock twitch and spit cum in his tight pants.

I didn't go to the mall until next Friday. This day, the top was a
shorter, exposing my belly, my breasts again not restrained by a bra.
Almost being 16, my two darlings really didn't need that much support
anyway. To compensate for the short top, the skirt was now longer, a
loose, light skirt going halfway to my knees. So the skirt was more
decent than last time. Only that this time, I wasn't wearing leggings.
Nor panties.

God did I feel naughty! I was in a mall, and, although being fully
dressed, I felt nude and exposed. The top felt almost silky and the
light jiggle and bounce when I walked gave my nipple the most tender
and sensual caress, until they got all puffy and hard. And only all
the more sensitive. I spent over an hour walking, jiggling and getting
more and more excited, bathing in the looks, blushing deeply as two
guys whistled, enjoying how a woman almost yelled at her husband when
she caught him stare at me.

And then I saw him. Following me. Oh my, what hot sensations did I
feel when he was there! Glancing in a mirror I saw him stare at my
ass. And again I played the game of teasing, reaching up to high
shelfs, forcing my breasts to press against the thin top, reaching up
until my breasts were almost on display, then sitting on my heels as I
was looking for things on lower shelfs, knees open and exposing my
naked twat to orange juice and corn flakes. I didn't dare to go to the
shoe store though. To be honest, the thrill to be nude under my skirt
still was in a hearty fight with the fear of being discovered.

I have to admit, I was disappointed, when I was sitting at the same
place at Starbucks as the last time and realized he didn't follow me.
I didn't know what I would have done would he have been there. What I
did know, was that I wanted a repetition of that moment when he got so
excited about watching me, it made him loose control and stain his
pants.

It was getting late and the mall was about to close, so I got up. I
moved to the back of the mall, taking a small exit as this was much
closer to the bus station. It was when I left the mall when I noticed
him. Standing in the shadow, waiting. The realization he was waiting
for me added a new accent to my emotions. A shade of nervousness and
fear mixed with the source of my arousal as I realized he knew me well
enough to know I would use this exit. I had to walk by him to get to
the bus and again I felt the heart beat in my throat. I kept my eyes
to the ground and walked faster. Teasing him in the crowded safety of
the mall was one thing, but I instinctively knew, I didn't wanted to
be alone with him.

I almost bumped into him when he got in my way. I smelled the sour
odor l of a drunk man as his voice stopped me.

"Wanna have some fun Missy?"

The heart beat in my throat suddenly morphed into a lump of fear as I
stepped aside and tried to pass him, shaking my head, only to find my
way blocked by him again.

"Come on, don't play coy! We both know you're a horny slut who wants
it, don't we?"

His hand was suddenly on my breast, giving it a firm squeeze. I
slapped the hand away, my throat emitting a hoarse sound as I tried to
squeeze a protest past the lump. I managed to squirm away and take a
quick step, only to have my wrist being grabbed and being pulled into
a small gap between the wall and a dumpster. My back hit the wall
roughly and the sour breath was again in my face.

"Is this what you are? A fucking tease?" His voice was a loud, angry
whisper. "I'll show you what happens to prissy girls who think they
can flirt and toy with men only to leave them high and dry!"

A rough hand covered my mouth, banging my head against the hard
cement. My hand was pulled against the rough fabric of his jeans and
pressed against a hard bulge. I felt the heat of his cock in my palm,
hard, thick, feeling huge as he pressed my hand against it

"Here, that's what you doing to me, showing off your slutty tits for
all to see! You like that, don't you? Yeah, you like to get us hard
and lust for you. Do you think we don't notice?"

He forced my hand to move on the thing in his pants, groaning as he
felt the touch.

"Do you think I didn't notice how it turned you on when I stared at
you? Everybody could see your hard nipples when you stretched for
these upper shelves. Shit, once I could even see the base of your
breasts, and you knew that, didn't you? Turned you on, knowing I
watched, didn't it? Didn't it?"

His hand was on my breast, fondling, squeezing the flesh I suddenly
realized he had been dreaming of as much as I had been imagining the
hard thing pressed against the palm of my hand. His fingers pinched my
nipples, hard, painfully. The hand on my mouth silenced my protest as
his hand was suddenly under my top, he heat of his big hand pressing
against the painfully swollen nipple.

"Fucking slut" Again I smelled his sour breath. "Do you think I didn't
notice the dark spot when you spread your legs for me last week? Got
you all wet and ready, knowing I was hard for you and want you, didn't
it!"

My eyes opened in horror as the hand was suddenly forcing its way
between my legs. His eyes opened surprised and a triumphant sneer
parted his lips as his hand found the unprotected, damp intimacy of my
bare lips.

"You fucking whore -"

And then his face suddenly vanished as his body was yanked back, away
from me. A tall man pulled him back and spun him around in one single
fluid motion while he twisted the arm on his back, until it almost
touched the opposite shoulder. A strong hand grabbed hair, pulling his
head back. My savior was bent over him forcing him to his knees and
whispered words I couldn't understand. I only heard my attacker groan
"yes, yes" and then he ran, as the man pushed him away, he ran without
ever looking back.

"You're OK?"

I stared at the dark haired man, only able to nod. Tears started to
fill my eyes and I started to tremble as only now I realized how close
I had been of being raped. He looked at me, quietly waiting until I
stopped sobbing.

"I guess you just realized you were playing a dangerous game, haven't
you? How old are you? 14? 15?"

I stared back at him. Thinking he was about to lecture me, I felt
defiance and anger push the fear away, I felt just moments ago.

"I'm almost 16!"

He didn't answer. I watched the shadow of a light smile on his lips as
he watched me silently until tears were welling up again.

"I wanna go home." I sniffled. He nodded.

"I'll drive you home."

I didn't protest when his arm found it's way around my shoulder as we
walked to the car.

-o-

He still hasn't said a word. He is driving slowly, as if he wants to
give me time to talk.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." I feel silly the moment I say it
and I run out of words again. Of course I didn't wanted it to end that
way, almost being raped by a stranger in a gap between a dumpster and
the mall's wall.

"It's just..." Again I don't find the right words and we sit in silence.

"You like it?"

I glance at him and feel my face grow warm. "What do you mean?"

"Men." A brief pause. "Looking at you."

It isn't a question, it's rather a statement, spoken with a quiet,
self confident voice and so I decide I don't have to answer it.

"Makes you feel grown up, getting their attention. And you are a good
looking girl, so it's only natural they watch."

I feel the heat of embarrassment cover my cheeks and I'm glad it is
dark inside the car. We stop at a red light, and I glance at him
quickly. He is looking at my breasts for a moment, a light, smile
curling his lips. I bite my lip, not sure what to do. The light turns
green and our slow journey continues.

"All girls discover men look in a different way at them when they
reach puberty, you know. That's perfectly normal." A brief moment of
silence follows these words. "Not all get aroused by it though."

I look at him, not sure how to understand that last statement. Our
eyes meet and I feel as if he would know every single secret of mine.

"You are one of those few."

The car stops. For a second I look at him like a deer stares into the
headlights of a car that is about to hit it. His eyes, illuminated by
a street light, watch my face, watch my embarrassed blush that gets
revealed by the same light and then slowly move down to my breasts and
linger there. Neither of us talks as tension slowly rises. I know he
is not looking at a girl now, I know he imagines how it would be to
touch them and I tense as fear and arousal start begin to fight for
control over my next move.

"You're home."

I leave the car, my mind a confused mess, wondering how he knows where
I live, wondering if he really is able to read my mind. He opens the
passenger window. I realized I never thanked him for coming to my
rescue and I bend down, but his voice stops me.

"It is OK to explore that side. You're a woman and it is delicately
feminine to be aroused by the power you have to turn men on. But you
need a guide for this Sarah"

My eyes open wide as he says my name. He smiles and all of a sudden I
know what was so familiar with the way he forced that man's back in an
arch and whispered in his ear. I suddenly realize where I've heard his
voice before and my hand covers my gasping lips as I remember the
sound his hand made when it landed on Mom's flesh.

He watches my realization and nods with a smile. The window closes
reflecting my confused, puzzled face for a moment, before the car
moves and quickly vanishes in the darkness. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As always, feel free to tell me if you liked it. 
If you didn't please tell me as well :)

And - if the story gave you an erotic tickle - thank you :)

Those who liked it can find my other stories here:
http://cynfulangel.blogspot.com/ <-- stories
http://sinfulthought.tumblr.com/ <-- drawings

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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