No matter who you asked in Angela’s neighborhood or in the school where she was an honor student, they all agreed there was no more an innocent girl than Angela Brown. The eighteen year old senior at Saint Michael’s Academy was friendly to one and all, even the bullies that liked to give the weak ones or the new students a hard time just to show them who was boss.
She was a pretty girl, a lot prettier than most with an hourglass figure that made the middle-aged male teachers drool and dream of violating the cardinal rule of never becoming overly friendly with a student under their control.
Angela didn’t have any sisters or brothers and her father was so busy at work that only her mother was around to monitor her comportment in the way that mothers often do. Unfortunately, her mother, a matronly lady with the name of Hyacinth, was a bit fond of the grape and she was too frequently in her cups to supervise young Angela properly in terms of feminine behavior. In fact, the older lady was sometimes placed in an indelicate situation by some workman or male acquaintance with carnal intent.
The daughter viewed her mother’s frequent relapses in acceptable behavior as being normal in private circumstances providing it was discreet enough to pass muster with the neighbors. One neighbor in particular, the horrible Mrs. Philpot with her skinny backside and her nose constantly in the air was a source of unrest to both mother and daughter as she professed a superior attitude in matters of social intercourse considering the pair of them as “weak females” far too willing to let men get the upper hand.
Angela felt certain that Mrs. Philpot had witnessed her mother’s humiliation in the rose garden with her skirts up all a ‘shambles and her round white cheeks pounded by the postman with his trousers down at his ankles and his thick thing buried to the hilt.
In all honesty, Angela considered such foolishness a welcome visual aid in learning about the “birds and the bees” because her mother seldom broached the subject in casual conversation. Her questions directed to a specific fact of the matter were usually shoved aside as being far too indelicate for discussion.
The young student was rumored to be attached to young Mister Bottoms and was quite comfortable with his unruly hands that roamed freely in any opportune direction. He already had a bad reputation for having put one of the Malone sisters in a family way after a simple walk down the garden path after the annual dance for all registered students. Mary Malone never directly accused poor Mister Bottoms, but the entire student body knew it was his randy man tool that had robbed the barely eighteen year old Mary of her virginal status and caused her belly to swell up like foot stepped on by a balky horse.
Of course, Angela had heard the rumor and she went out with Bobby Bottoms despite the risk determined that he would never get his thing inside her baby-making machine without a firm offer of marriage. The always optimistic Bobby continued to verbally knock on Angela’s gateway to paradise but he was generally relegated to no more than a half-way measure of physical pleasure. He had even fallen down to using his sensually shaped lips to stimulate Angela’s fore and aft entryways in the hopes that she would eventually succumb to his pleas and unlock her defenses to his eager exploration.
Angela accepted his oral devotions and discovered that she found his attentions to her rear portal her favorite way to reach that pinnacle of release that left her all tingling and relaxed in a way that females best enjoy.
They were in the movie theater on a breathless Friday night when Bobby brought up the possibility of Angela granting him the favor of entry into her rear passage as compensation for continued denial of frontal entry. She listened to his softly spoken words and seriously considered relenting and allowing him to experience interior residence in her person but in a way that she would be protected from any chance at early and unwanted motherhood. The purchase of everyday rubbers was out of the question because the druggist was a blabbermouth of the worst sort and the invention of the morning-after pill was far into the future.
“Bobby, I really don’t like the idea because I have been told it causes a great deal of pain if the tool being used is oversized and I think we both agree you have a huge tool and it might be a source of great discomfort inserted inside my bum.”
Bobby sensed a weakening of defenses and he followed up with promises to be gentle and only press on if she gave him the “go ahead” with complete cooperation.
Since they were in the back row, it was relatively easy for her to slide sideways on the seat and present her flank to him for his pleasure without much difficulty and not drawing any attention from other film viewers around them.
“Lift up your hip a bit, Love, and I will slide those panties out of the way.”
Suddenly feeling like things were out of control, Angela lifted her flank and the fast-moving Bobby had her undies down to her knees before she could stop him.
After that, it was simply the act of pressing his shaft to her tight little star that got things started.
She didn’t think it would be possible for his thick girth to get inside her back there and was ready to tell him to call it quits, when her sphincter popped open and his full nine inches slid inside with a finality that made her gasp with surprise.
Neither of them moved a single muscle and they looked around to see if any of the patrons in close proximity heard the abject surrender. Apparently not the case leading them both to start moving in little circular movements designed to hasten eventual draining of young Bobby’s juices in that familiar way that young people learn about the depths of depravity.
The tidal wave of his passion crashed deep inside her most private of internal cavities and she hid her face in his sleeve hoping that not a single soul in the theater was aware of her shameful degradation at Bobby’s happy humping.
Angela certainly didn’t feel very innocent any longer.
However, she still had her virginity intact and there was no chances of her wheeling a little pram nine months in the future like the unfortunate Mary Malone.
Some of the girls out on the street looked at Angela with a knowing look as she walked on her tippy toes to the bus station. They knew the consequence of taking it all the way up the bum and found her predicament amusing to say the least.
Her mum had no idea and was in a world of her own as the empty bottle of Italian red on the table attested with mute comment.
Up in her bedroom, Angela looked at her cream stained panties and she did her best to clean the mess hoping that it would not drain out overnight and dirty the sheets in a way that her mother would recognize as the sign of carnal excess.
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