The Great Adventure Girl’s Academy

I found a mirror I could put in the room. I was
beginning to like this little room. I dug up a few
more things to make it look homier. The only thing
missing was water. The walls were solid concrete.
Running plumbing was not an option. I settled for a
basin and large thermos. At least the girl could
freshen up a little. Hell, it worked for our ancestors
for centuries.

That afternoon I smelled smoke again. Smiling, I threw
a couple condoms in my pocket and sauntered down to
the boiler room. It was Brandy again. She took another
puff as I came into the room. “So, you couldn’t stay
away even after Cynthia took care of you?”

Brandy looked disgusted. “She didn’t. You had her so
fucked out she went right to sleep. I was so
frustrated.”

“I bet,” I said. “I’m glad you came back. We do have
some unfinished business.”

Brandy smiled and held up the cig. “Mind if I finish?
I hate to waste them.”

“Not at all. I’m starting to like the smell of
cigarettes. Used to hate it,” I said leaning against
the door jamb.

Brandy smiled, “I bet you like it.” As she finished
the cig, she said, “I told Miss Gonzalez that you
caught me smoking and I had to tell you who gave me
the cigarette. She looked really worried. I told her
that I didn’t think you were going to be telling
anybody about it. You won’t, will you?”

“I’m sure her secret is safe with me,” I responded.

Brandy took a last drag, carefully stubbed out the
cigarette and stood as I entered and closed the door
behind me. “Show me the room. Cynthia said you had it
fixed up nice,” she said.

“Cynthia certainly likes talking, and other things,” I
said looking at Brandy.

“I guess I’m a bad girl. Are you going to punish me?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. She looked disappointed. I
went to the door to the converted room, opened it and
turned to Brandy, “I think instead I’m going to ravish
you.”

Brandy threw up her hands and said, “No, please. Don’t
ravish me. You seem like such a nice man. You wouldn’t
do that to poor me, would you?”

I reached out and grabbed her wrist, “In a second,
little girl. I’m not a nice man at all.”

“No, no,” she pleaded in a little girl voice. “I’m a
nice girl.”

I dragged her, quite easily actually, into the room,
closing it behind us. “Take your clothes off.”

“Not that,” she said as she unbuttoned her blouse and
quickly stripped off her skirt and underwear. I took a
step toward her and she fled to the other side of the
room where I had set a couch. She put her hands in
front of her, “No please. I’ve never done this
before.”

“Then how come you’ve shaved your pussy?” I asked.

She looked down, “Good question. Um, `cuz Cynthia
likes it that way.” Then in her little girl voice
again. “I haven’t grown any hair yet.”

I pulled off my shirt, shoes and pants. She was still
in her shoes and white socks looking young and
vulnerable but with a devilish smile. I grabbed her
hand and pulled her to the bed. She fell onto it
theatrically, with her legs spread and her arms thrown
akimbo. “Oh, I am to be ravished. Be gentle,” she
begged putting her hand against her forehead.

Even though she was acting, and badly at that, I found
myself caught up in her little girl performance. Her
body had an innocent look, small breasts, bare pussy
and the little girl shoes and white socks. My cock
gave a lurch. I stared at her bare pussy peeking out
from her labia and it looked sweet, virginal and
delicate.

I dove for her pussy and buried my face in it. She was
sweet and tasty as my tongue lapped along her crack.
The labia parted as she opened her legs wider and
moaned from my vigorous assault on her privates. She
was quickly moaning and turning her head from side to
side as I lapped and sucked on her little girl pussy.
I buried a finger in her, finding her G spot and
massaging it with my curling finger.

“Oh shit,” she moaned hunching her hips into the air.

I needed to be in her. I looked around and didn’t see
any foil packets. Shit, left them in my pants. I
hopped up, did the fastest search you ever saw, tore
the packet open, rolled the condom on and burrowed
between her legs before she knew I was gone, almost.

“Don’t,” she said. “Oh, you are too big. It will
hurt.”

“Sweetheart, this isn’t going to hurt. It’s going to
be the best thing you ever felt,” as I lined up and
pushed into her pussy. She had clamped down on the
entrance and it felt exquisite as my cock broached her
opening.

“Oh. You’ve stolen my virginity,” followed by a deep
throaty moan as my cock buried itself into her pussy.

I’d like to say that I was in complete control but the
truth is I let myself be caught up in the charade. It
really felt like I was fucking a virgin. I closed my
eyes and imagined this was Brandy’s first time. It
concentrated my focus and I felt every little ripple
of her pussy along my cock. My whole world centered on
where our bodies were coming together, fucking,
mating, pleasing each other.

Brandy’s voice deepened as we fucked and lost its
innocence, “Oh yes, fuck me, fuck me.”

My climax was building. I pumped harder and deeper,
slamming into her, the bed rattling on the old tired
springs. Brandy was moaning and humping back. I felt
my cum rising and cried out as it burst, my body
vibrating with the intensity. I felt her nails digging
into my arms as I pumped my cum into her, draining me
until I was nothing but satiation and completion. I
fell over her, still buried in her throbbing pussy.
Her hips writhed under me as I struggled to get my
breath.

I rolled to the side, pulling Brandy with me. She
snuggled into my arms and I gentled her, petting her
back as we both returned to the world. Jesus, I
thought. That was some fuck. I kissed her head,
“Thanks. That was wonderful.”

“Umm,” she answered. “I liked it too. Did you like my
acting?”

“I loved it. I almost felt like it was real. It made
it more intense.”

She looked up, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Cool,” she said her hands stroking my chest.

We lay quietly for a while. Then Brandy looked up and
said, “Cynthia and I really like going for a smoke.”

“I like it too.”

She smiled and played with my chest hair twisting her
fingers in it.

“Brandy,” I said seriously. She stopped twirling and
looked up. “Maybe you and Cynthia shouldn’t tell
anyone else about this. We could all get in trouble.”

Her eyes widened a little and she said, “Okay. I won’t
tell anyone else.” It wasn’t until after she was gone
that I thought about what she had said, `anyone else.’
What does that mean, anyone else?