I stood there frozen in place like a rabbit in headlights just wishing for the earth to open and swallow me whole.
The study has always smelled musty, like leather and old paper despite few actual books in the tall bookcases covering the walls. Most of the space on the wood instead dedicated to various awards and monuments to mediocre talent sculpted in resin or glass. "Employee of the Decade", "Long Service" and "Financial Award of Excellence" being the ones most prominently displayed. Not a single family photo or proof of life existing outside this room, which it basically didn't in his opinion.
The air was stale and heavy, the window looking out over the garden hadn't been opened yet to let in the chill spring air given the size of the cobweb tucked into its corner. Outside life continued on; birds were chirping even though their calls were muffled by the thick Victorian era glass. In the street I could just make out the last bits of Easter decorations. - Now passed by a few days and the reason I was home from university.
There was no joy within the room, it would have clashed with the ancient oak desk, stained by years of tobacco smoke and late nights, its top in testament to the stubbornness of the owner still had a rack of expensive pens and bound notebooks despite neither having been used for some time.
All of this observation served a purpose, it kept my eyes off the screen that had been turned to face me and the man behind the desk who was sat awaiting my answer with an accusatory glare. A glare that to be fair to him wasn't entirely unwarranted given the screen showed my face front and centre, dripping with multiple loads of cum down onto my bare chest.
The video was paused on a particularly dumb gurn of a grin caused by the thick ropes of sperm that ran from my face to the pair of cocks held in my hands.
"So?" He spat, his voice more anger than disappointment
"Care to explain why I found this video of you?"
Of all the things I expected to be confronted with when I was summoned, this was not one of them. Taking a deep breath to steady myself and attempt to get my heart under control I raced through my options, none of them great. But I was surprised in myself, aside from the initial shock I found myself not ashamed, not proud either but somewhere in the middle, just left of aroused and near to satisfaction.
"Well" I began, my voice quickly gaining confidence as I spoke and my legs ceased their trembling "It was just before my birthday..."
7 weeks before my 19th birthday to be exact. I'd worked hard in my first few months of university, both academically and socially to invent myself as the person I wanted to be. It wasn't too hard; Usually one of the oldest in my academic year I had always attracted attention. I'd kept myself active through my teens with bouldering and occasional gym sessions so aside from some calloused hands I considered myself reasonably good looking. I'd avoided the massive udders of my mother who had gone to fat in puberty and ruined herself by having me as a late teen pregnancy with a man nearly 3 times her age (she also squeezed me out on Christmas day - a crime I will never truly forgive her for.) Instead I was blessed with a reasonable chest, small enough to wear cute tops, large enough to flaunt and topped with rose nipples that annoyingly would stand to attention at the slightest dirty thought in my head. My hair, though naturally mousy was usually kept platinum blonde to fit my desired aesthetic, though laziness would often see me just throw it into a ponytail or messy bun for day to day. Video me had pigtails but we'll get into that later.
I would tell people I was 5ft 4, in reality I was closer to 5' 2 but it annoyed a lot of shorter guys who would add to their own height and then look incredulously at me when I would flat out deny their height based on my own false one. This probably tells you all the need to know about my bratty streak. A streak I often let run my mouth around men much larger than I to my detriment. Taunting that they could try beating or fucking it out of me. Many tried, a few actually managed it and I called them Master. But this story happens between such men so they are mostly unimportant.
My sexual discovery was much the same as many a girl though slightly later than my peers I think. No one person could claim to be the first to see me naked as it was a group of friends on my 18th birthday who after a lot of drinking talked me into some "tasteful" nudes which rapidly became some very distasteful ones. But it ignited a love in me and for weeks afterwards I felt a rush when I caught someone using my tits as their lock screen or when the group chat image was changed to my spread virgin cunt and an entire day was dedicated to discussing ways the guys in the chat would like to "cure" my virginity with many pictures of their cocks to emphasise their willingness. None were hotter however than one of the girlfriends sending a picture of her own creamy, freshly used dildo and offering to pin me down in front of everyone and simply ruin me on a silicone cock. I've never considered myself bi, but I'll admit that threat got my juices flowing and led to my first real body shaking orgasm as I thought about the humiliation on offer. Alas she never got the chance as a few weeks later, after much awkward fumbling in the back of cinemas and busses, and culminating in an orgasm from my own hand in the costume room during sixth form drama club; my first real boyfriend left in shame once he came in me in under 3 thrusts. He pulled his trousers up, muttered an apology and left me lying naked on the floor, deflowered and unsatisfied. It only took a few seconds of rubbing his sticky mess all around my clit and sore cunt before I shuddered and sighed with relief. Aftercare would be a word I didn't learn for a long time. I did however prop my phone up to take a photo of myself, smiling
like a loon and licking my fingers as my now visibly gaping pussy leaked fresh cum onto what would turn out to be a costume for Henry VIII. Admiring myself for but a moment before sending it to the chat and receiving a dozen variations of "congratulations slut" from people I knew might only be a wall or two away from me. The boyfriend was dumped before I even went to get the morning after pill (I had an IUD fitted a few weeks later), And while the drama closet got its fair share of action, it was never with him again.
I say all this to set the scene, as its important to the situation I found myself in. Once I realised I enjoyed sex, possibly more than my male peers, especially exposure and risk the later half of my final year in sixth form became a lot more interesting. I was careful, I only played with people I trusted or with people I had control over. Rocking a skirt and telling my friends I wasn't wearing underwear that day and them trying to catch me was fun, lifting it to flash my shaved slit to one of them studying in an otherwise empty classroom was exciting. But locking eyes with the aging physics teacher who was married with 3 adult kids and 6 months away from retirement while I spread my legs wider and wider in the front row of a full classroom was what I lived for. Pinning my nudes to the inside of his desk cupboard may have been a step too far but that's tomorrows story along with the Master I had at the time who encouraged and enjoyed it almost as much as me.
