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Women Masturbation

A Blog By Nancy Underwood

Improve your relationships. Explore your needs. Learn about sex.

Nancy Underwood

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The potting shed

Luckily Isabel's lusty cries did not carry beyond the potting shed. But if anyone had ventured to the back of the kitchen gardens and tried to glimpse through the opaque panes of the old shed they would have been greeted with a most un-lady like sight. Isabel, legs akimbo, dress rolled up to her crotch and panties hastily shoved to one side was receiving the clit frigging of her young life.

The gentleman doing the frigging was every girl's masturbation fantasy. He should have been planting azaleas in the convent lawns, but he had turned his pliant green fingers to a much better cause. Now Isabel's pussy was sopping wet as she gripped the grimy shelf she perched on. The energetic finger tango continued remorselessly across her swollen clit and occasionally plunged into her moist plump pussy lips.

Sex with the gardener in the school potting shed; it didn't come much more cliched, but to be fair Charles was no forelock tugging yokel offering the snooty bitch a bit of rough. He was on his gap year after Eton, and come September he'd be going to the Royal Agricultural College in Cirencester to learn how to tend daddy's rolling acres of prime real estate. Planting cabbages and pruning young saplings was just a way to pass the time. Somewhere along the way Charles had learned how to give the most amazing clit stimulation, and pretty 17 year old Isabel was his latest client, melting in the heat and swooning in his grasp.

Without a word Charles went down on her and starting to suck her moist pussy. Both of his soiled hands pulled roughly at the buttons on her white blouse and he started to cup her freed breasts like mounds of warm earth. He licked and sucked her clit, inserting his thick tongue inside her. At the same time, he was massaging her breasts and leaving dirt and soil on her soft white flesh.

Isabel moaned again and her eyes rolled. Charles buried his face deeper into her pussy working his tongue into her. She was close to cumming when suddenly the finger stopped and before Isabel knew what was happening she felt a much bigger, warmer finger than he had been using before now nuzzling against her soft yielding pussy. She tried weakly to protest, but he was inside her and pumping before she could stop him.

"No please...I'll get pregnant' she protested. Charles smoothly told her the biggest lie in the lotharios' lexicon. 'Don't worry; I'll pull out in time.' The sex was urgent and hard, Charles pulled at her school blouse again and ran his fingers over her stomach, blackened fingernails grasping and slapping her flesh.

Charles had had his fill of pumping her on the ledge so he pulled her off it and quickly bent her over. His actions were hurried and earnest, no time for niceties. This was a high risk shag with just ten minutes to go before Isabel was due in Mrs Hough's Home Economics class. He pulled her green school dress right up as Isabel's face flushed. She pleaded with him not to be so rough, but by now his rampant balls were slapping against her ass which jiggled with every pump.

Isabel could feel the tremor rising deep inside her, and although she was quite new to sex, especially illicit potting shed shags, she could tell he was about to explode. To her surprise he whipped his cock out at the last moment and turned her to face him just in time to let the fat spurts of hot cum lace her hair and splatter her face.

Charles groaned as he let his load unleash itself upon her, and then stroked himself pleasurably as Isabel tried to recover from the onslaught. Charles smiled "Frigged, sucked and shagged, mam, all part of the service.'

Isabel was furious "I didn't want a shag, only the first bit'

"What, the frigging?' said Charles. "Don't be shy to say it. Like I say, the extras are all part of the service. There's a basin at the back - you better get cleaned up. You wouldn't want to go to Mrs Hough's with my good stuff all over you. Mrs Hough might want some too.'

Charles zipped himself up and swung his head back in laughter, but as he did so his head hit the overhead storage shelf and a large flowerpot wobbled and then fell right on top of him.

Despite everything Isabel laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. It was Charles' turn to be furious.

"I'm truly amazed" said Isabel

"About what for Gods 'sake? said Charles angrily, pulling the flower pot off him.

"That there's a flowerpot wide enough for your big head."

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