1. That Hated Edge!


    Date: 9/1/2016, Categories: BDSM, Author: ChrissieLecker, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    I hated Em, and hated even more that I was stuck inside the cramped dorm room with her for the whole senior year at high school. I hated cheerleaders in general, but her even more. She was a bitch, that pretty, perfect looking kind of girl everyone took for an angel, with long, blond hair, full lips and boobs that drew every male’s attention. She flaunted her toned legs on high heels every opportunity she got and never needed to pay a single cent when she went out. She played everyone around her without a second thought. And worst of all, she played me and I knew it. “Sally,” her sugary sweet voice called me from the room. “I’m just taking a shower,” I hollered back, just in the process of soaping up my leg. “I don’t care! Now!” I sighed and rolled my eyes, but nonetheless quickly dried myself enough so I wouldn’t leave a trail of water, wrapped a towel around me and tip-toed into our room. Em was lounging on the black leather couch her parents had bought her, her tablet with the pink cover on her lap, and she was giggling. “I hate you,” I hissed at her and pushed the strand of mousy brown hair back that was stuck to my cheek. She looked up with a grin. “I know. Now drop the towel, sweetbuns. I want to play a game.” “Fuck, no! Please,” I begged. “Not today! Today’s Monica’s party, you know that.” “Of course I know. That’s why I want to play. Now be a good girl, Sally, and do as you’re told.” I hated her with all my heart, hated that sweet pout with which she looked at me, ...
    hated the way she ran her finger along her dress’ cleavage and pulled the fabric almost, just almost, far enough down so I could see her yummy, rosy nipple while she cutely bit her lip. I dropped the fluffy towel and stepped closer until my shins bumped against the couch, then splayed my legs shoulder width apart without being prompted, as always when she wanted to play games. She looked me up and down, my too-small, barely B-cup breasts that looked almost boyish in comparison to hers, then to my twat that I kept bare and smooth as she had ordered. My inner lips peeked out quite visibly. Her eyes went back to her iPad, probably to read another of the wicked stories she found on the internet and liked so much, but her inattention was part of the game. She reached out casually, running her hand up my body until it found a nipple. She pinched it hard and rolled it between her fingers. I hated that my breathing became harder. Her hand travelled down again, leaving me feeling one-sided, out of balance, one nipple soft, the other hard as stone and hot. She pushed two fingers up my twat, knowing that the little play had been enough to get my juices running, and they slid in without effort. I hated that I couldn’t contain my gasp. She finger-fucked me, there’s no other fitting name for it, shoved her digits hard and fast up my needy twat. Every so often, her thumb scratched my clit and made me gasp and moan. The heat built up between my thighs and rose higher with each careless thrust, ...
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