Schoolgirl Uniform Danielle Ch 01

The thin second hand crept around the clock face until its snail-like progress caused the minute hand to finally snap into the position over the 12.

"Okay, that's it for today," Mrs. Chandler announced.

Tossing her book bag over a shoulder Danielle Lawrence joined her three detention fellows into the hall. Outside they each went their separate ways, a couple climbing into cars. But not Danielle. She hadn't told her mother about the detention, she'd lied and said she was going over to a friend's house after school. Being 18 meant she didn't require a parent's signature on her detention slip so she could avoid the inevitable lecture if her mother had learned of her misconduct.

The thick soles of her black shoes smacked the sidewalk as she strolled to Judy Grant's house. Rising up out of those shoes her white socks covered the majority of her calves. And above those socks her tan thighs eventually disappeared beneath the hem of her school uniform's skirt. Inches higher the garment hugged her delicate hips. Tucked into its waistband her white blouse flowed up to snuggle the curvature of her 36C breasts. The blouse's top buttons were open and above the resulting vee her fresh face soaked in the bright sunshine, her long, thick brunette hair pulled back in a sporty ponytail.

Prancing up the steps to Judy's door she rang the bell. It was answered by a nice looking man in his late 30s wearing dark khakis, a dress shirt with cuffed sleeves and a white t-shirt beneath its open front. It was easy to see that he liked to keep in shape, but wasn't fanatical about it.

"Hey Danielle," Judy's father wore a surprised smile as he greeted her.

"Um... Hey Mr. Grant," she half-stuttered. "Is Judy here?"

He hesitated for a moment, giving her uniform a quizzical look. "No, she... uh went for a quick shopping trip with her mother."

"Oh. Um...," Damn, she thought, I forgot to remind her about today.

"I doubt she'll be too long," Mr. Grant offered. "You wanna come in and wait?"

"Um, yea sure," she nodded. She knew she couldn't go home just yet. If she did her mother would wonder why she hadn't spent longer at her friend's and might become suspicious.

Moments later she was sitting on the couch with a soda, absently watching a television news program. Her host sat at the other end of the couch, his legs kicked out so that his bare feet rested under the coffee table. The news program didn't exactly interest Danielle and her mind wandered.

"So how's school going?" Mr. Grant's question brought her back to the present.

Blinking, she realized the TV was showing a commercial.

"About the same as that question . . . Boring," she smirked.

"Ok. Ok." He held up a hand in mock surrender as he turned toward her slightly. "I'll try to refrain from asking boring questions."

In the ensuing silence Danielle found it difficult to meet his gaze. She'd had a crush on her friend's father ever since meeting him, and her nerves were tingling as he stared at her.

"So... um, Mrs. Grant took Judy shopping?" she asked, trying to calm herself.

"Yeap," he nodded.

Another silence unfolded and she wished the commercials would end and the news, as boring as it was, would return.

"You have to stay late at school?" He asked.

"Um . . . Yea," she kind of whispered. She didn't want to tell him about her detention either and she was suddenly afraid he'd ask. "What . . . Um, What happened between you two?"

"Huh?"

"Between you and Judy's mom. What happened? Why'd you guys split-up?" While she was asking the question as a way to change the subject, it was something she'd actually been curious about for some time.

"Oh. We just kind of grew apart," he shrugged.

She made a scoffing sound.

"What?" He asked.

"That's what all divorced parents say," she challenged. "Unless they actually admit to someone having an affair . . . Or one of them just takes off."

"Oh yea, Judy told me about your dad. How old were you?"

"Eight," her temporary bravado faded away to another near whisper.

"That had to suck."

Over the years plenty of adults had expressed this same general sentiment, only they'd all used softer phrases such as "that must have been rough" or "that must have hurt." So Mr. Grant's choice of words surprised her.

"Yea . . . it did," she nodded, lifting her eyes to look at him. When she did she thought she caught him admiring the way her shirt flowed over her breasts and she felt her cheeks warm.

"So what about you and Mrs. Grant?" She pressed, absently turning slightly toward him.

"Like I said, we grew apart," he shrugged again.

"Come on," she sighed. "What happened? Did you get caught?"

"Oh, because I'm the man, I must be the one that had an affair?" He mocked indignation.

"No. That's not..." her voice trailed off to keep her from expressing her thoughts.

"Yes?" He pressed after a moment.

"That's not what I meant," she stared at the floor.

"So what did you mean?"

She remained silent.

"Danielle, do you think I had an affair?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "But that whole 'we grew apart' line just sounds so phony. And it does usually mean someone messed around." She paused then, considering how much more she dared say.

"Ok, I can understand that," he shrugged. "But why would I have to be the guilty one? Certainly women are just as prone to cheating."

She tried to lift her gaze and look at him, but couldn't.

"S- Sure," she whispered. "It's just that . . . um . . . It just seems like . . . like you'd have more opportunities to . . . you know..." She felt her cheeks flushing with the realization of just how close she was to sharing one of her secrets.

"Ok. So why is that? Why would I have more opportunities?"

"Because-of-how-good-looking-you-are." Although she didn't want to say it the sentence spilled from her mouth as if a single word.

"Ah. Well, thank you," he chuckled softly.

Her gaze remained downcast, her cheeks burning a deeper red.

"But I didn't," he sighed after a moment. "And neither did Carol. As cliché as it may be, we honestly just kind of grew apart."

"Ok." She decided to accept his answer in hopes that it'd allow the topic to be dropped, saving her from further embarrassment. On the TV the news had resumed and she hoped it would draw his attention.

And for the moment it did seem to.

But then another commercial break came.

"So what about you? " He muted the television. "What brings you by today?"

Looking over, Danielle saw that he'd never turned back to his initial position facing the TV, but had instead remained turned partially toward her.

"I just thought I'd drop by," she lied, her gaze once more falling to the floor.

"Uh-huh," he didn't sound convinced. "And it's just a coincidence that you arrived minutes after detention lets out while still in your uniform?"

Her eyes shot up to find him wearing a confident smirk, one that let her know that he knew.

"I guess maybe I should've changed before coming over," she surrendered with a sigh. She did have a change of clothes in her book bag which she'd expected to change into here . . . at the Grant's home. In Judy's room. With Judy.

"I'm glad you didn't," his smirk turned mischievous, his gaze drifting down over her body for a moment. "You're old enough to sign your own school slips, aren't you? I'm guessing you told your mom you were coming here after school so that she wouldn't know about the detention."

"Yes," she whispered, her gaze once more falling to the floor.

"So why'd you get detention?"

"I cut a couple classes," she admitted.

"To go shopping?"

She didn't want to answer and so she said nothing while staring at the floor.

"No? Not shopping, huh," his tone was calculating. "Then it must've had something to do with a boy."

Danielle fought the urge to raise her eyes and look at him.

"You're not gonna try telling me it was just to meet him for ice cream, are ya?" His voice held a knowing chuckle.

She felt the couch shift and through the tops of her eyes she saw him shifting a couple inches toward her.

"It was to hook-up, wasn't it," now his tone was heavy with his breath. "Was it the first time?"

The couch shifted again as he moved to a point where a mere foot of cushion remained between them. She could feel his body heat, smell his cologne. She also felt his eyes crawling over her body.

Suddenly Danielle's mouth was very dry. She took a nervous sip of her soda.

"M- Mr. Grant . . . I, um, I . . . don't know if..." her voice trailed off, unable to continue as she managed to lift her gaze and meet his.

His eyes simmered with a hunger. One she'd seen before . . . kind of. It'd been in the faces of the boys she'd been with. And a few she hadn't. But this time . . . in Mr. Grant's gaze . . . it was different. She didn't know how it was different, she couldn't have explained it, she only knew that it was.

"It's okay," he whispered. "It's just the two of us here."

There was an emphasis in his last words, one that made her acutely aware of where she was and who she was with. Briefly, for just a split-second, she thought about making up an excuse so she could leave.

But then that split-second was gone.

And she did not.

Instead she drew in a deep breath and held his gaze as her heart began to race.

"It wasn't your first time, was it?" His voice carried that same hunger.

Her entire body tingled with the electricity shooting along her nerves. Her eyes once more fell to the floor as she found herself unable to continue meeting his gaze. Timidly she shook her head.

"How many boys have you been with?" His tone still carried that hunger, but was also relaxed and confident.

"M- Mr. . . . Mr. Grant," she whispered, her voice shaking.

His hand came up to brush her cheek. The contact sent a shiver racing down her spine and stirred a warmth deep inside her.

"It's all right," he assured her. "You can tell me." His fingers caressed her cheek with a gentleness she'd never experienced before. "How many?"

Then he cupped her cheek and his thumb lightly traced her jawline.

Instinctively Danielle leaned into his cradling hand.

Thoughts about the boys she'd been with flowed through her mind. There'd been three. She remembered how they'd been, how they'd acted. How their touch had felt heavy and cumbersome, not light and delicate like Mr. Grant's. In fact, she couldn't remember them caressing her cheek at all. Only rushing to grab at her breasts and reach under her skirt.

"How many?" He pressed.

"Th- Three," she breathed, almost involuntarily.

"Three, huh. You're naughty," the hunger in his tone thickened.

Another shiver, this one heavier with electricity, raced down her spine. It caused her to tremble. She tried to raise her eyes to look directly at him, but couldn't. So instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You are a naughty girl, aren't you?" He sighed.

Gusts of hot air wafted through her. Deep inside her she felt those gusts fanning her embers into smoldering coals.

"You are also quite beautiful," he added. He brought his other hand to rest on her thigh, an inch below her skirt's hem.

Another electrified shiver raced down her spine. She trembled again. Now her flesh began to simmer with the heat building up inside her. Fighting her anxiety she raised her eyes while opening them.

He was staring at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and hunger.

"How many times, Danielle?" His fingers made light, nearly undetectable scratches on her thigh just below her skirt.

"Huh?" She whispered. She knew what he meant, she just didn't want to answer.

"How many times have you been with someone?" His fingers slid up to the very edge of her skirt.

"Jus- Just a few..." she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her jangling nerves.

"So, just once with each of the boys?"

Her heart pounded within her chest. Electricity crackled along her nerves. Heat wafted through her from the embers smoldering within her loins.

"Wh- Why do you wanna know?" She managed to ask.

"I can see how beautiful you are," he whispered. "And how sexy. But I can't see how naughty you are."

Silence filled the next moments.

The man's one hand continuing to cradle her chin while his other teased her thigh, the fingertips at the edge of her skirt.

"Fi- Five times," she whispered. "I've had sex five times."

She'd been sitting fairly stiffly, her petite body tense with her rolling uncertainty. But her body was also simmering hotly and that growing heat caused her to relax slightly. As she sighed out the words her one knee fell a couple inches away from the other.

"Oh yes," Mr. Grant chuckled. His fingers slipped up to under the hem of her skirt while also dipping a smidge downward onto her inner thigh. "You are naughty."

For the next few moments they remained like this: Danielle sitting motionless with her friend's father next to her on the couch, his hands caressing her cheek and thigh. During those moments she thought about the three boys and what they'd done . . . how they'd treated her. How they had acted and how they'd been. She instinctively compared them to the present situation . . . Mr. Grant's words and touch.

"You are so beautiful," he sighed. His fingers slid down from her chin to brush at the side of her neck a few times. "Just beautiful."

Then he cupped her chin again and tenderly turned her face toward him. She raised her eyes to his and saw that the mixture of adoration and hunger had intensified. His other hand gently pulled her leg toward him, increasing the gap between her knees by another inch even as his fingers danced over her flesh under the hem of her skirt.

"So. It seems that you've been a naughty girl for others," he whispered. "And now I think you're gonna be a naughty girl for me."

"Ye- Yes, Sir," she whispered without knowing why.

The hunger in his eyes flared. "Oh yes. You are gonna make me very happy."

Still cradling her chin he lifted it slightly as he leaned in. Instinctively Danielle closed her eyes. His lips pressed smoothly against her full ones.

The girl was dazed by the chain of events . . . by the idea of her friend's father actually touching her. She'd had no idea such a thing could . . . or ever would . . . happen. So she was extremely unsure about how to act or what to do.

Yet when she felt his lips parting she freely opened her own mouth and raised her tongue to meet his. They kissed for several long, hungry moments, their tongues swirling. His hand slid back around to cradle the nape of her neck. His other fingers slipped half an inch up her inner thigh.

Her body's temperature climbed as her smoldering embers began to sizzle and glow with her passion. She began to tremble and she shifted toward him as she brought her hands up to timidly grab at his shoulders.

After a couple minutes his hand came out from under her skirt and moved to the top of her other thigh, rubbing at it through her skirt. It then gradually slid up to cup her hip, gently tugging at her a few times before moving further up. Crawling to her waist it cradled her and gently squeezed. From there it began a slow ascent along her side, lightly massaging her through her blouse until he was cradling her breast.

One of the boys Danielle had been with had used a less sophisticated form of this same technique; his hand having leapt from her thigh to her breast in a rush to maul at her. While that had been stimulating at the time, Mr. Grant's slow, deliberate approach aroused a much deeper pleasure within her. The heat from his hand radiated through her clothing, making her flesh simmer. His thumb brushing along the bottom of her breast made it - and its twin - ache with need. Her nipples swelled, poking into her bra. Her breathing grew heavy, panting between their kisses. Her nails scratched at his shoulders.

Then his hand slipped up to fully cup and cover her breast, squeezing it with gentle insistence.

Danielle whimpered through their kiss. Her body quivered, her back arching outward to press into his grasp.

While they continued to press their lips together and their tongues swirled, Mr. Grant concentrated on her breast. In response her nipples hardened more, jutting and jabbing at her bra as their ache made her cram herself harder and harder into his hand. Her fingers grabbed at his shoulders, her body starting to wiggle with the heat simmering through her.

As they continued to share passionate kisses, she instinctively shifted her position upon the couch. Laying back she kind of snuggled into its corner. Her one foot remained on the floor while her other was drawn up so her leg lay across Mr. Grant's lap and the foot itself dangled in the air. The maneuvers caused her clothing to become mussed. Her prim skirt no longer lay modestly over her thighs but had ridden up to expose inches of previously covered flesh. Also her once snuggly tucked-in blouse was now partially untucked and loose.

After a few more minutes Mr. Grant broke their kiss. Pulling back he gaze down upon her lovingly.

Danielle's heart raced as she half-sat, half-lay there before her friend's father while he fondled her breast. Nibbling at her bottom lip she nervously returned his gaze from under heavy lids, her green eyes smoldering with her growing desire.

His one hand slipped away from the back of her head. As it slid down toward her chest his other stopped massaging her breast. Danielle quietly mewed with the loss. Then his two hands began unfastening her top's buttons and her breath caught as she watched him start to reveal her.

Being careful not to pull the top open, his fingers deliberately undid the buttons, working their way down one after another. While doing this he gazed adoringly down upon the sight they slowly exposed; the teasing glimpses of her flesh and the inner curves of her breasts, her simple, white cotton bra cradling them. After undoing the last exposed button just above her skirt he paused for a moment, his eyes crawling back up to the rise of her breasts. Then he opened the top, folding its two halves aside.

Danielle's shallow breaths were evident in the way her pert tits rose and fell within that simple bra. Her swollen nipples stood out clearly beneath its soft material. Below them her flat tummy trembled with the electricity sparking along her nerves.

Settling his hands at her sides he held her, his eyes crawled over her again, his pleasure obvious in their glint. By gently tugging at her he coaxed her to raise up. He leaned in and their lips met once again. As their tongues resumed their duel one hand slipped around to her back to unhook her bra through her blouse. As it slipped back around to the front it slid under the loosened bra. His fingers danced over the delicate flesh of her breast with a soft touch that was nearly non-existent. They fluttered across her nipple, sending jolts of electricity shooting out from the sensitive nerve-endings to the deepest depths of her body.

Her embers began to glow red-hot with the heat sizzling within her loins. She panted . . . quietly mewed. Her body softened and he allowed her to lean back into the corner again.

His hand covered her tit. As his fingers splayed out to cup the firm mound his palm flattened over her swollen nipple. Then his fingers tensed, squeezing it with a firm gentleness, his palm rubbing against her nipple.

The ache that had been awoken within her tits responded to the attention, making her whimper excitedly. Waves of passion washed through her. Her back arched, shoving her tit into his hand.

He massaged the mound for several long minutes while they continued kissing passionately. With every tensing of his fingers the ache flowing through her body increased, fanning the glowing coals of her desire.

Eventually his fingers slithered up to focus on her nipple, They flittering over and across the sensitive bud, causing sparks of excitement to explode through her.