I happen to think that every high school as that perfect couple. That pair that seem as though they were made for each other. They are inseparable, look great together, do everything together and every other couple wants to be just like them. In my school that couple was Paul and Sheryl.
I had known Sheryl for six years, which is a long time for someone in high school. She was one of the most beautiful girls in school and I use her as my benchmark for the perfect woman to this day. She was the oldest daughter of a well-off, well respected family; a good church going girl and a model student.
She possessed the most gorgeous blond hair I have ever seen. She would wear it swept from the left to the right side of her face and let it cascade down to just below her shoulders. It was the kind of hair that when she shook her head would fly gently in the breeze, each blond strand catching the light and then falling perfectly back into place. She had piercing blue eyes that sparkled with life. Her skin was unblemished, beautiful and soft with the healthy glow that only a tan can give. Her face was perfectly proportioned with high cheek bones and just a hint of color, red full lips and a picture-perfect smile. She was a bit on the thin side, a narrow waist with breasts that just filled a ‘B’ cup. But her hips and ass were perfect and she was blessed with stunningly beautiful long smooth legs.
In a nutshell, Sheryl had it all. She was beautiful, she was bright, she was personable and she was polished. She was fun to be around, she had lots of friends, she had a good family and most of all, she had Paul.
Paul entered the picture when we were freshmen, a transfer from another school. His good looks were quite the conversation piece for the female student body when he arrived; sandy blond hair, athletic build, friendly eyes and engaging smile. And even though he made the Junior Varsity football team as a freshman he wasn’t your stereotypical jock. He was a good student and a personable guy; a likeable guy. Of course, maybe I say that because he liked me. And maybe he liked me because I was a long-time friend of Sheryl. Either way we all got along pretty well.
Sheryl met Paul the second half of our freshman year and instantly everyone predicted they would get together. The complication at the time was that Sheryl was involved with someone else. That all changed over the summer. And by the fall of our sophomore year Sheryl and Paul were a couple; the perfect couple. They did everything together, all the parties, all the dances; they took classes together, were both on the school paper. They both got cars during their junior year. Sheryl stenciled Paul’s name on her passenger door, and Paul stenciled Sheryl’s name on his! They were never seen fighting, and never had a bad thing to say about each other. There was no drama between the two of them. They had found the perfect love in each other. There was no question in anyone’s mind that the two of them would go off to college together, both land successful careers, get married, have two kids and live the perfect life.
Me? I was truly just your Joe Average student; though my name is Jim. I wasn’t a bad lookin’ dude; I got my share of dates. I earned fairly good grades and Lettered in tennis. I liked music too, that’s one thing Sheryl and I had in common. We were both in the school choir and I played trumpet in the band.
Paul liked sports, Sheryl and I enjoyed music. However, one thing we all had in common was our age. We all turned 17 years old the summer before our Senior year. A year that turned out to be one of the best in my life.
I don’t like to think of myself as a band geek, but I truly did enjoy the marching band. Despite what you might have heard band members did have some pretty good parties! Consequently I did spend a fair amount of time in the music building; putting in a little extra practice and pitching in when I could.
And that’s exactly what I ended up doing on a warm autumn afternoon during my senior year. The Homecoming Game was just a week away and the marching band was preparing for the half-time show. Mr. Peterson, the band director had managed to get all the band members together for a full dress rehearsal during the last period of the school day. The rehearsal went about as well as could be expected and after an hour on the field all one hundred members piled back into the music room to disrobe. Mr. Peterson was a bit fastidious about his uniforms and equipment and he insisted all the gear be returned to their closets and lockers. The closet for the uniforms was located at the back of the band room in a long corridor.
Finishing rehearsal marked the end of the school day and everyone rushed through the band room to the doorway of the uniform closet to get rid of their gear. Being quick, I happened to be one of the first people in the closet. The place was so jammed with disrobing band members I couldn’t exit the room. So I told everyone to just drop all their uniform pieces in the corridor and I would put them all away. There was not a single objection to my offer and soon the corridor was piled high with pants, blazers and feathered hats!
After the last band member threw his uniform on top of the pile Mr. Peterson poked his head into the corridor.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, “This is going to take you a while.”
“It shouldn’t take too long.” I replied. “I usually take the late bus home anyway.”
“Well, I appreciate you doing this, it’s a big help. I’ll leave the outside band room door open, but I’ve got to get home. Is that alright with you?” Mr. Peterson asked.
“That’ll be fine.” I replied. “I’ll make sure the doors are all closed behind me.”
With that Mr. Peterson smiled, turned on his heels and let the uniform room door close.
So there I was, surrounded by one hundred band uniforms strewn all over the floor. The corridor was narrow and about thirty feet long with the only entryway behind me. Along one wall were two huge wooden doors. Inside each door were long tunnels about twenty feet deep. On each side of these tunnels were hangars for the uniforms. The tunnels were about six feet high. At the top of each tunnel ran a shelf that went about ten feet deep. Uniform hats were kept on these shelves.
This entire closet was made of pine that still maintained a smooth finish. When originally constructed, the closet had a long sliding ladder, the kind that used to be found in better libraries. The legs of the ladder had a set of wheels while the top had rollers that rode on a pole. That way you could stand on the ladder and move yourself with ease from one end of the closet to the other. But the ladder broke years ago and the music department didn’t have the money to repair it. So, Mr. Peterson brought in an old wooden ladder to use. This ladder stood on two legs and had to be leaned up against the shelf to get to the hats. The problem was that the ladder was also made of wood and was VERY slippery on the wooden floor. To help relieve some of the slippage Mr. Peterson had stuck some duct tape on the bottom legs, but that didn’t help much. The net result was that anyone using the ladder had to be very careful or it would slip and you would find yourself face down on the hard pine floor.
After the door closed behind Mr. Peterson I ambled to the middle of the mess. There was a single chair there and a wheeled cart waiting for my use.
After 45 minutes of serious work it had gotten rather hot and stuffy in the room and I stripped down to my T-shirt and running shorts. I was done putting the uniforms away. The only thing left to do was put the hats up. That involved removing the feather plumes attached to the front of the hats, put them in their plastic bags and put the hats on the shelf. I kicked all the hats to the center of the corridor, sat down on the chair and started removing plumes.
I was removing the plume from my fourth hat when I was startled by the sound of the corridor door opening. The light from the band room spilled in as someone stood in the doorway.
“Hi Sheryl, what brings you here?” I asked.
My perfect Sheryl stood at the door, her blond hair bouncing on her shoulders, a packet of books in her hand. She was wearing a white peasant dress, which was very popular in the day. It was made of heavy cotton with wide shoulders straps accented with lace. The neckline was generous, squared off at the sides with ornate embroidery and sequins across the front. There were small lace covered holes down the sides of the dress and a one inch border of lace at the hem which fell half way down Sheryl’s thigh. As she stood at the doorway the light from the band room shone through the fabric of her dress and I found I could make out the silhouette of her shapely legs. I averted my stare for modesties sake.
“I’m looking for Mr. Peterson, is he back here? I have some music books to return.”
“No,” I answered, “he’s gone for the day.”
“Well then what are YOU doing back here?” she asked.
“Ah, I told him I’d put the band uniforms away. I’m almost done.”
“Are you kidding?” she exclaimed, “You must be a glutton for punishment!!”
“Probably, but I’m almost done.” I repeated.
“Well, do you need any help?” she asked, “I can give you a hand.”
“No, that’s ok; you don’t need to do that. Really, I’m just about finished.”
Sheryl let the door close behind her as she entered the corridor.
“Nonsense,” she exclaimed, “let me help you. We can get this done in a jiffy.”
“Well, what about Paul, isn’t he waiting for you?” I asked.
“They’ve got a scrimmage today. He’ll probably be another hour. This will actually work out great for me.”
With that Sheryl made her way into the uniform closet. She kicked a few of the hats out of her way as she sat herself down on a rung of the ladder directly across from me. But as she put her weight down, the ladder started to slip forward.
“Whoa!” cried Sheryl as she dug the heels of her pumps into the floor, her legs parting slightly, her arms flailing and the hem of her dress riding high on her thigh. Instinctively I reached out and grabbed her knee preventing her fall. Her smooth skin felt cool to the touch and I took in the sight of her beautiful tanned legs.
“Yeah, you need to be careful with that ladder,” I cautioned, “I think Mr. Peterson keeps it here to get rid of students he doesn’t like!”
Sheryl laughed and scooted herself back up on the ladder. I caught a quick glimpse of something white beneath the hem of her dress as I removed my hand from her leg.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” She said as she regained her composure and started scanning the floor for a hat to grab.
I handed her the hat I had in my hand and explained what she needed to do. She smiled, reached her hand inside the front of the hat and started undoing the grommet that held the plume in place. I watched her hands as she started to work. Then my eyes changed focus and started traveling up her slender tanned arms, her tiny blond hairs catching the light. My eyes moved up to her flexing bicep then suddenly darted horizontally.
Sheryl was hunched slightly forward on the ladder and busy at work. Seated in that position the neckline of her dress had fallen forward and I found myself looking directly at her chest. The way she was sitting I could see all the way down to her stomach. I could clearly see both her breasts, gently cupped in a soft white bra. The bra must have been a demi-cup because I could take in most of her small firm breasts.
Again I turned my head sharply away when my mind realized what I was staring at. ‘What the hell am I doing?’ I asked myself. ‘I can’t sit here stealing looks down Sheryl’s dress! Sheryl is my good trusted friend! One of the nicest people I know. She would NOT like it if she knew I was starting at her tits; she’d lose all respect for me. Show some restraint dude, look someplace else.’
Sheryl placed the plume of the hat in a plastic bag and threw it in the box on the cart. She then placed the hat on the cart.
“One down!” she announced proudly and immediately began looking for another hat.
I smiled and joined her in the search for more hats. We both bent over and as I did my eye caught the light off Sheryl’s golden hair as it cascaded past her shoulder. As we both picked up a hat and retook our seats, the strands of her hair parted and a second later I was once again looking at the soft smooth skin of her upper chest. Before my mind could protest my eyes slid easily down the front of her dress and once again took in her breasts.
Sheryl maintained a steady stream of small talk as she concentrated on her work. I listened and offered polite, if not benign responses. Truth is, my mind had been hijacked by Sheryl’s beauty and was contentedly nestled in her cleavage, reveling in the soft contours of her breast. Each time Sheryl would twist the grommet in the hat, the muscles in her chest would cause her breasts to jostle in her bra exposing just that little bit more to my devouring eyes. At times my gaze would be rewarded by a fleeting glimpse of her light pink areola. Still my mind ached for and expended an incalculable amount of energy trying to will the cup of her bra to slip ever so slightly so that I might take in the ultimate prize; a delicious pink nipple. Unfortunately that prize remained resolutely and tantalizingly out of view. No matter how many hats she picked up, no matter how hard my mind tried.
The cabinet had been getting warm and stuffy before Sheryl arrived and I now found it stifling. Taking in Sheryl’s body clearly raised my body temperature and beads of sweat were evident on my forehead. I raised my head and mopped my brow. As my eyes left her breasts my moral compass switched on and I again found myself asking how could I be doing this? How could I be stealing looks at Sheryl’s body? Why couldn’t I be a gentleman, show some class, some discipline. The hard truth was that as unethical as I thought my actions were, I found stealing looks at her delicious body extremely exciting. I got an extraordinary erotic thrill looking at her forbidden fruit. And there was definitely an extra measure of excitement knowing I was stealing these glances from someone so perfect, so proper, so revered… so unaware. And that excitement was settling itself deep within my loins and the affect was evident in my engorging cock.
Despite the thrill, my mind would not stop berating me. My conscience kept challenging me to show some integrity – get up stand on the other side of the room, stare at the ceiling, do something – just stop looking at Sheryl’s tits!
I lowered my head as Sheryl raised hers.
“You ok?” she asked, “you look a little flush.”
“It’s warm in here, don’t you think?” I said dabbing my forehead.
“No, it feels good to me.” she replied with her cheery smile.
With that she threw a plume in the box and slammed a hat on the cart.
“Done!” she cried, “See I told you we’d get this done in a snap!”
I looked at her with incredulity and then looked around on the floor. She was right, all the hats were done. I was so deeply engrossed in Sheryl’s cleavage I had not noticed our progress.
Sheryl got up and walked around the closet, rubbing the pain of sitting on the ladder off of her backside. In many ways I was relieved to see we were done with the hats. The job was certainly completed much earlier than I had planned thanks to her help. However, I think I was most grateful that I no longer had to fight the urge to look down her dress.
I took the hat I was finishing and threw it on the cart.
“Thanks Sheryl, I really appreciate your help.”
“Well, don’t they still have to be put away?” she asked pointing to the shelves.
“Yeah, but that won’t take me very long and there’s really nothing you can do to help, I mean only one person can be on the ladder at a time!” I said in jest as I (stupidly) jumped onto the first rung of the ladder. It immediately slipped out from beneath me and I found myself crashing to the floor.
“Whoa Jim, are you alright?” Sheryl cried as she ran to help me.
“Shit, that was stupid.” I said as I pulled myself back to my feet. I hobbled over and leaned on the cart massaging my forearm which took the brunt of the fall. Sheryl stood beside me asking if I was alright.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said sheepishly, “just got to be careful around that damn ladder!”
“Well, look,” Sheryl said, “one of us should hold the ladder while the other puts the hats away. You’re bigger than me so you can hold the ladder for me.”
Still smarting from the pain I looked through the corner of my eye at the ladder.
“Nah, it’s too dangerous.” I said, “I should climb the ladder”.
“You’ve already tried that,” she laughed, “and look at what happened!”
“Ha!” I spat back.
“Besides, I’m lighter. Look, pull the cart up to the ladder and I’ll put the hats away.” Sheryl repeated, pointing to the cart and walking to the ladder. I crossed over to the cart considering Sheryl’s proposal as she stepped on the ladder. When she placed her foot on the second rung, the ladder pivoted on its left leg and started to swing around. I instinctively reached out, my right hand grabbing the top of the ladder, my left hand grabbing Sheryl just above her knee.
“This may not be such a great idea.” I said swinging the ladder back into position.
“No, this will work.” Sheryl insisted, “Just don’t let go of me.” With that she continued her climb up the ladder, my left hand holding her leg.
Sheryl only needed to climb to the third rung in order to reach the hat shelf. As she finished her ascent, I moved behind the ladder and jammed my feet behind its legs holding them in place. I then released my grip on the top of the ladder and pulled the cart closer in.
“That’s good!” Sheryl said as the hat laden cart bumped the ladder. I checked the security of the cart then turned to check the security of Sheryl. As I did I turned to discover my face no more than a foot away from Sheryl’s ass. My left hand was firmly gripping her right leg just above her knee and the hem of her dress was just below eye level.
I started to think about how awkward this could end up being, just as Sheryl bent over to grab a hat off the cart. The hem of her skirt almost brushed my face as she reached for the cart. I threw my head back to avoid making contact. She then straightened up, hat in hand and reached to place it on the edge of the shelf. With rapped attention and exploding anxiety I watched as the hem of Sheryl’s skirt rose up the back of her thighs until the powder blue cotton of her panties came into view. My hand felt her muscles strain as she rose up on her toes in an attempt to reach the back of the shelf. Reaching as far as she could caused her skirt to rise slowly until half her panties were completely exposed; her perfect, shapely ass not more than a foot from my feasting eyes.
‘Jesus.’ I exhaled as my heart began hammering and my throat went dry. As Sheryl struggled to place the hat I studied the body presented before me; the way the soft cotton of her panties followed the contours of her ass and smoothly blended with the skin of her thigh.
How the soft skin of her inner thigh bunched up against the elastic of her panties where it folded over her vagina. How the covering over the crack of her ass puckered each time she clenched her cheeks. How the muscles of her long smooth legs showed such shapely definition as she stood straining on her tip-toes.
As I started to step in closer to get a better look, Sheryl abruptly stood up and her dress recovered her ass. I quickly looked down at the floor. ‘Oh shit, she caught me,’ I thought and I steeled myself for the much-deserved verbal thrashing I was about to get – with nothing at all to say in my defense.
“See, this will work!” she proclaimed. “We’ll be done in no time.”
To say I was relieved and surprised by what she said is an understatement. I was so shocked the blood rushed from my extremities and I inadvertently loosened my grip on Sheryl’s leg.
“But DON’T let go of me,” she reprimanded, “this ladder scares me!”
I looked up at her and found her looking down at me with a trusting smile. She then resumed her work, reaching over to grab another hat. I felt the ladder start to move and my hand shot back onto Sheryl’s leg, this time landing several inches higher than my previous grip.
Again Sheryl’s dress just missed my face as she picked up another hat. But this time I slid my head to the side and let the dress surround my face. I let myself take in the sight of her smooth panty covered ass, mere inches away from my nose.
As Sheryl reached up to place the hat on the shelf I couldn’t help but wonder whether she knew what she was doing. Did she know she was exposing herself to me, was she doing it on purpose? She was a bright, perceptive woman. Surely she had to know I was taking in the view of her beautiful thighs and shapely ass. But why; why would she do that, and why would she be doing that to me of all people? This is one prim, church-going girl we’re talkin’ about. This girl has it all, she didn’t need me for entertainment; she didn’t need me for shit. And if she knew I was getting my ‘jollies’ stealing views of her ass, she’d never forgive me, everyone would hear about it and I’d be the laughing stock of the fucking school.
But—she HAD to know she was flashing her ass at me…she just had to…
My lustful desire battled my moral conviction each time Sheryl bent over to pick up a hat and place it on the shelf. I tormented myself trying to decipher whether she KNEW what she was doing, whether she was deliberately teasing me or not.
When Sheryl started the second row of hats she leaned far forward and I found myself following her lean in order to steal a look up the front of her dress. My breath caught when I spied the decorative lace on the underside of her bra. I let my eyes travel down her smooth firm stomach. And I tilted my head slightly back to take in the subtle cleft in the front of her panties, mere inches from my inflamed nostrils.
As Sheryl reached down for another hat I looked away and felt the sweat building between my palm and her thigh.
“You doing’ ok?” she asked looking back at me.
“Yeah,” I replied, the answer sticking in my throat, “I’m good.”
“Don’t let go.” she smilingly admonished.
I adjusted my grip moving my hand a few inches higher. As Sheryl returned to work I looked at my hand and noticed it was now no more than an inch below her panties. Every time she would stand upright my forearm would disappear underneath the hem of her dress, only to reappear when she reached up for the shelf.
The skin of her upper thigh was very cool and smooth to the touch and my hand instinctively started a subtle massage.
“Mmmm, that feels nice.” I heard her say as she continued her work. Each time she would reach for a hat I would massage my hand a little bit higher on her thigh and each time she reached up to a shelf my fingers would knead a little bit deeper into her skin.
‘God, she has to know where my hand is,’ I said to myself, ‘she must feel how close I am to her pussy!’
The next time she bent over I moved my hand closer again. This time the hairs of my thumb could feel the cotton of her panties. My arm disappeared under the hem of her skirt as she stood up and I could see my thumb gently brushing the material of her panties when she reached for the shelf. Sweat was trickling down my neck now and my breathing had become steady and deep. ‘She KNOWS my hand is up against her pussy,’ I tried to convince myself, ‘she MUST know how hot I’m getting.’
Finally I could take the torment no longer and decided I just had to touch her. I’m just going to go for it and bury my fingers into her pussy. If she gets mad at me, so be it. But I can’t take this anymore. I swallowed hard and twitched my fingers.
“There!” Sheryl announced, “This row is done!”
I breathed out in stunned disbelief, my head snapping up to look at her. I then looked at the shelf. She was right, the shelf was full. Son of a bitch.
Coming back to my senses I slid my left hand down her leg ever-so slightly and grabbed the ladder with my other hand.
“Wow,” I stuttered, “wow, that was quick.”
I helped Sheryl carefully navigate her way down the ladder and onto the floor.
She smoothed down the sides of her dress, looked at me and smiled, “One more row to go!” With that she quickly turned her head, her blond locks obediently following and started pushing the cart to the other side of the closet.
I stood dumbstruck for a moment, then grabbed the ladder and followed.
As we assembled our wares on the other side of the closet, the guilt ridden part of me asked whether she wanted to switch jobs.
“Oh no,” she replied, “this is working out great. Besides, this is fun!”
Sheryl grabbed a hat from the cart and started up the ladder.
She turned to look at me, “Just don’t let go!” and continued to the second rung.
I placed my feet at the base of the ladder and watched Sheryl’s body pass in front of me as she reached the third rung.
‘This is fun,’ she had said to me, she said she was having fun. What did she mean by that? Did she mean she was having fun putting the hats away or did she mean she was having fun teasing the shit out of me?
I reached forward to grab Sheryl’s leg as the hem of her skirt started to rise. My hand reached to grab her above her knee but continued upwards as more of her delicious smooth thigh came into view. My fingers finally wrapped themselves around her thigh about an inch below her panties. As Sheryl bent over to grab the next hat, my fingers resumed their massage and made their way a little higher on her inner thigh.
When Sheryl resumed her standing position her foot slipped slightly on the rung and for a split-second she lost her balance. She paused to recover. “Hold me tight!” a little fear in her voice. I grabbed her tighter, adjusted my grip higher and grabbed her again. She paused for a moment, took a breath then resumed her work. As she leaned forward to put the hat on the shelf I felt soft cotton brush along the top of my thumb. My thumb had reached her pussy.
‘What are you doing?’ I thought to myself, ‘she can feel that!’ My mind battled back, ‘I know she can feel that, she HAS to be able to feel that! She must know I’m doing this, maybe she wants me to do this!’ ‘Yeah but if you’re wrong, your life is OVER!’
Sheryl bent over for another hat, the knuckle of my thumb enjoying the softness of her pussy lips as they passed by on the other side of her panties. My fingers continued their gentle massage but could now feel the elastic band of her panties on the front of her thigh. As Sheryl stood up and reached for the shelf I gently pushed my thumb further into her panties until I could feel the folds of her pussy lips.
Sheryl paused for a moment and I heard her let out a short breath. I saw the cheeks of her ass pucker as she bent over to pick up another hat. My fingers continued their massage, now dancing just underneath the band of the front of her panties.
Sheryl stood up, her hem falling down below her ass again, only my elbow being visible as the rest of my arm was pleasantly buried underneath her skirt. I felt her thighs convulse as she flexed her ass, my thumb getting buried deeper into her panties. Sheryl then raised her arms and reached for the shelf. This time my thumb was definitely between the lips of her pussy and my hand gave an exaggerated massaging motion, sliding my thumb along the length of her pussy.
Sheryl’s left leg wavered slightly and I thought she might lose her balance. She paused and I heard her exhale.
“Don’t let go.” she breathed gently.
“I won’t.” I choked.
Sheryl stood still for a second then resumed reaching for the shelf. Again my thumb found its way down the length of her pussy, noting for the first time the heat and the moisture in her panty. Sheryl let out a labored breath as she placed the hat on the shelf. This time when she bent for the cart, my index finger found a pucker in the elastic of her panties and slid itself inside the gap. I could feel a few wisps of pubic hair as she rose again with a hat.
This time as she reached forward to the shelf, Sheryl clutched her ass cheeks together and I buried my hand deep into her panties, my thumb rubbing against the pubic bone and tickling her clit. A moan escaped from Sheryl’s throat and her pelvis thrust forward. My hand was temporarily trapped between the clenched muscles of her inner thighs allowing my massaging fingers to dance deeper inside the leg band of her panties.
Finally Sheryl threw her pelvis back while pushing off from the shelf. As her ass moved back, my thumb found her now engorged clit on the other side of her now wet panties causing a deep seated moan escape her throat and her knees to tremble. Summoning all her resolve Sheryl raised herself up and pulled her pelvis forward. My fingers took advantage of her thrust by quickly pulling back the leg of her panties and slipping inside. Sheryl felt the touch of my fingers against her pubic mound and clenched her butt cheeks together. However, before her muscles could contract, my thumb followed my fingers under her panties and nestled itself between the lips of her labia. Sheryl held the cheeks of her ass together for a long second, taking in the wave of intense pleasure contact with my thumb brought.
Sheryl’s body started to tremble with building pleasure. Her mind, in a fog could only tell her to continue moving. She pushed her ass back as she bent over for the cart. As she leaned over for the next hat, the lips of her pussy parted and my thumb slipped into her vagina and buried itself deep inside.
The wave of pleasure her impaled pussy brought caused her to throw herself upright, thrust and clutch her ass and collapse on the hat shelf. She laid her head on her arms and surrendered to the pleasure wracking her body. She thrust her ass hard against my thumb, a rivulet of fluid running from the recesses of her cunt down the palm of my hand. My massaging fingers found their way to her exposed clitoris and danced on top of it. Sheryl bucked back and forth on my hand, clenching her ass around my thumb, her cunt sucking on it like a bottle. Her body convulsed and spasmed to the pleasure; deep lustful moans escaping her lips as she sobbed and moaned with pleasure.
As Sheryl increased the depths of her thrusts against my thumb I reached up and pushed her panties aside with my other hand. With each thrust of her body I could see her wanting pussy engulf my hand. Pussy juice was now streaming down and dripping onto the rung of the ladder between her legs. I rubbed the lobe of her firm ass with my right hand, pulling and teasing her cheeks apart. I could see the star of her ass hole as she bucked her pussy against me. With a flush of erotic mischief I dipped my free thumb into the pool of her juices. I then pushed my thumb up against her ass hole and teased her sphincter, causing a dramatic rise in Sheryl’s spasms and undulations. Seeing this increase in her sexual frenzy, I pressed my thumb gently inside her ass hole. Sheryl let out an unbridled scream as she felt my thumb penetrate her rectum. She bucked furiously against my hand, riding high and hard on the shelf and ladder. It was all I could do to keep my balance as she thrust and shook against my fingers buried deep inside her body. Finally she let out a series of unrestrained screams and violent thrusts – almost throwing herself off the ladder. I buried my hands as deep inside her body as they would go and felt the pinnacle of her uncontrolled orgasmic spasms.
Finally, the screams and the thrusts subsided and I let the thumb in her anus slip out. I left my other hand inside her pussy until the undulations stopped completely and all that was heard was her labored breathing. She rested herself on the shelf for a long minute, her arms folded underneath her head. After a while there was nothing but quiet in the uniform closet, and I let my thumb slip gently out of her pussy and my hand resumed its grip on her leg – just above the knee.
Sheryl slowly raised herself up off the shelf, her hands gripping the top of the ladder. After a long pause she climbed slowly down and I let my hand slip off her leg while my other hand took her by the waist. She paused with her back to me for a moment. She then turned around facing me, her eyes cast to the floor. She raised her arms and placed her hands on my side. She then raised her head, looked me in the eye and kissed me gently on the cheek. She then lowered her head and herself onto the first rung of the ladder.
She sat with her head even with my waist, her hands still on my side. I looked at her, trying to figure what she was thinking, what was going through her mind. I wasn’t sure what I should do, so I did nothing but watch her quietly. I was about to step away when she moved her right hand from off my side and slid it along the elastic band of my running shorts. Her hand stopped at the front of my shorts and moved down. I felt her fingers through my pants as they made contact with the semi-erect cock inside. I drew in a sharp breath as I realized what was happening.
Sheryl grabbed my cock on the outside of my shorts and started running her hand gently up and down the length of my shaft. I was already highly aroused by what had happened, but my cock increased its rigidity with each stroke. My pelvis started pushing against the motions of Sheryl’s hand and I thought about the mess I would make if I came, when she raised her hand to the top of my shorts and peeled the front down.
I didn’t like blowjobs. I’d had two in my young sexual life and I found neither of them satisfying and one of them rather painful. As my cock sprung out from behind my pants and stood erect in front of Sheryl’s face I tried to think of a way to tell her to stop. But before I could utter a syllable, Sheryl leaned forward and placed half my cock into her warm inviting mouth.
Instantly I knew the girls who had sucked me before did not know what they were doing; Sheryl did. Her tongue reached out and caressed the bottom of my cock. I could feel it wrap itself around my member and cradle me as she pulled me deeper inside. With a delicious slurping sound she pulled her head back and flicked the tip of her tongue on the tip of my cock before opening her mouth wide and plunging her head deep on my shaft. I felt the back of her throat as she closed her mouth around me and I saw her shoulders shudder as she fought to control the gag. I watched as she pulled her head back away, adjusted her seat on the ladder, then thrust her head again deep onto my member. I watched her blond hair dance on and off her shoulders with every stroke, each strand catching the light in a gorgeous cascade of gold. I reached my hands out and touched her hair, folding my hands deep inside its richness and resting my fingers on top of her head.
The feeling in my loins was almost indescribable. I felt the warmth of her mouth and the sensuousness of her tongue on my cock. I heard the subtle murmurs and the delicious slurps escaping her mouth. I watched her perfect blond head working furiously on my member, my hands in her dancing hair. The combination of this stimuli caused a powerful orgasm to build at the base of my cock and I knew my time to cum was at hand. As I felt the deliciousness of my impending orgasm build, a memory flashed across my mind. It was my old girlfriend berating me for cumming in her mouth; telling me that I should never do it, that girls didn’t like it. I thought of that as I realized my time with Sheryl was at hand and I searched for the strength to leave her warm inviting mouth. My hands tightened their grip on Sheryl’s blond head as I prepared to pull out and I looked down on the angel dancing on my cock; this perfect angel, this perfect girl. This girl with the perfect face, with the perfect body, with the perfect boyfriend, with the perfect life. This girl who had it all, who was now down before me; this girl who was now sucking my cock.
I felt my buildup explode at the base of my balls and my cum race its way down my shaft. I held my grip on Sheryl’s head and started to pull my cock out of her mouth. But then, in a fit of vengeful lust I adjusted my grip, changed directions and thrust my cock as hard and as deep as I could into Sheryl’s throat. Sheryl let out a small cry and her arms flailed in an effort to maintain balance as I planted my cock deep into her mouth and let the first spray of my cum explode into the back of her throat. I held her head up against my balls and repeatedly thrust as hard as I could into Sheryl’s mouth letting my sea of sperm enter deep inside. I held the back of her head with everything I had as I let every last ounce of my seed enter her throat and slide its way down. Sheryl let out several muffled cries and spasmed against choking. As my torrent of cum subsided I released my grip on her golden locks, pulled back my pelvis and let my cock slip gently out from between her lips. Sheryl let my cock leave her mouth riding on her extended tongue, then brought her tongue back into her mouth and smacked her lips. She didn’t spill a drop.
I took a step back, grabbed the waist of my shorts and pulled them up, flipping my spent cock inside. With her eyes back on the floor Sheryl coughed, wiped her lips with the back of her hand and stood up. She raised her head and we looked each other in the eye. I took a step forward and reached out for her hands. She gave a quick start and a faint smile as I leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips; tasting myself on her. She stood back, closed her eyes, let go of my hands and walked towards the door. I turned my head and watched her through the corner of my eye. She opened the door without turning around and left.
I saw Sheryl frequently throughout the remainder of the school year. I saw her in the hallways, at school functions, at the church youth group, in class. I saw her with Paul, at the mall, at school socials and at parties. We never spoke about what happened in the uniform closet. And I’m sure Paul never found out. I always wondered why it happened and why it never happened again.
It was but one glorious afternoon in the band room closet and it did teach me one important thing; nothing and no one is perfect. There is no perfect person, there are no perfect couples. Some people may want you to think they’ve got it all together, that they’re better than you, that they’ve got all the answers but that’s bullshit; they don’t. No one does.
Paul and Sheryl lived their perfect life in high school. They were the Christmas Couple at the Winter Ball, had the spotlight dance at the prom and graduated high school the envy of the class. They went on to college together – where they broke up the very first month.
End
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