I was fifteen when I had the best sex I ever had; before or since.
In those days my main source of gratification was a wank over a nudie book! Let's start off with the truth; I'd never had sex!
I was a fairly solitary youth, happy with my own company. You would probably call me a bit of a wimp and a geek in today's parlance. Girls didn't seem to fancy me, and blokes didn't try to enlist me into their games and schemes, but I had a couple of mates who liked the same kind of stuff as me and I never felt particularly lonely.
Although I had known a couple of girls we had never gone beyond a feel of the tits under the bra.
But I had a dirty secret.
My favourite "kink" was to strip naked outdoors. I usually did this in the nearby countryside; a woods or quarry area, or in an old derelict industrial site. At that time I wasn't actively looking for someone to "flash" at; the thrill was in being naked in a public place. Sometimes, to make it more exciting I would hide my clothes and walk away from them. I would feel even more vulnerable, not being able to drag my clothes on quickly if someone came by. I suppose it's a sort of masochistic streak but I never really considered what might happen if I was seen, or caught while walking around naked. It's impossible to explain why this felt so intensely exciting but I always had a massive hard-on doing it! I would get as far from my clothes as I dared, then I would have to wank! As soon as I came, the urge to be naked would evaporate and I would be consumed with fear and panic; I would have to find my clothes as quickly as possible and get dressed. I would leave the area as fast as I could, my heart beating wildly and swearing that I would never do such a stupid thing again. But I did. Often.
So, the best sex ever began when I set out early on my bike to visit the old factory site about three miles from home that was my favourite place for my nude forays. We had been given a day off from school because it was being used as a voting station for the local elections. A lot of kids from school were going to take the train to the sea-side, which meant there was less chance of one of them visiting the same place as me.
It was a day in May, and the weather was going to be warm and sunny. Strange as it may seem but I preferred wet, damp days because it cut visibility a bit and tended to deter other people from going out walking. You see, although I enjoyed the risk, I tried to minimise it as much as possible.
I arrived at the site, which consisted of many ruined buildings spread over a wide area. Some of them were five or six story factories and warehouses. They stank of decaying rubbish and soggy plaster. I had begun to like that smell.
A quick reconnaissance was always a good idea so I cycled around the cobbled lanes for a few minutes to make sure there was no-one around.
There was an old brick shed that still had a door and I hid the bike in it. Then I decided to leave my clothes there as well. Sometimes I liked to keep on a t-shirt, partly to keep me warm and also it emphasised the nakedness of my lower body. Today I took off everything except my shoes; I never risked going barefoot outside.
With my heart racing and my cock stiff and hard already, I set off along between the buildings. I selected a doorway at random and entered it, going up a flight of concrete stairs until I reached the fourth floor. A door led off the landing to a room that might once have been an office; it wasn't as large as those on the other floors and didn't have all the damage to the floors and oil stains either.
It still had a chair, a wooden upright thing, I thought it must have been left behind when the place closed. There was another door and I found it led to just another room, this time empty. Unlike the other floors most of the windows were intact, except for one or two cracked or missing panes.
The thought that I was here, naked a hundred yards from my clothes began to turn me on and I started to stroke my rigid cock. I didn't want to cum yet but I couldn't stop myself. I was getting to the vinegar stroke when I heard a diesel engine rumbling! Moving to the window I was shocked to see a Transit van come to a stop below my window! I could see a man get out of the drivers side and then disappear for a moment. He reappeared with a woman in a dark coat and they both walked quickly into my building!
They were coming up the stairs; there was no way out for me without passing them!
They might come into my room!
What would I do if they did? Calm down, I told myself. If they were to come in then I would just run past them as fast as I could. They would be too startled to do anything and I could sprint back to my bike shed and hide while I got dressed. It would be okay. Pressed against the door I listened with growing horror as they climbed the steps. They seemed to be making slow work of it; they were scraping their feet and I thought there were some angry, muttered words.
Eventually they reached my landing and came into the first room.
I heard some sort of grunting and gasping; if they were having sex, why didn't they do it somewhere else? Or at least hurry up and clear off?
I heard the sound of the chair scraping the floor and a whimpering which I took to be the woman getting a good seeing-to.
They seemed to be taking a long time over it. And then I heard footsteps running down the stairs. I looked out the window again and saw the van spitting gravel as it sped off.
What was going on? The man must be off on some kind of errand. The woman must still be next door, blocking my escape. But then I had an idea; I would walk suavely through the room, giving her a flash of my dick as I went, and then run like mad downstairs and back to the bike shed!
Taking a deep breath I opened the door and walked into the next room. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of someone to one side. I turned to fully present my front, gave her my "pervert" face and thrust out my hips to make my stiff dick even more prominent and then dashed for the door. I was about two steps down when I suddenly stopped! What had I just seen? Could it have been real?
I went back and there it was; a vision such as I had never seen in real life! A woman was sitting on the chair. She was almost naked and she was blindfolded with one of those sleep-masks you get on air-planes. And wow; she had one of those rubber ball-gags in her mouth! Her shoulders were bare and her breasts looked odd; they were sort of too high and seemed to be bulging outwards! I was unfamiliar with "bondage equipment" in those days. The girlie mags that I could obtain were very tame and none of them dealt with extreme sex; I was lucky if they showed a minge! But I could see she was tied up and unable to speak.
What the hell was going on here? She must have realised she wasn't alone, because she started to moan through the gag, making stupid idiot sounds. I came closer and got yet another shock; she was a teacher at my school!
I started to stammer out, "Miss Holland!" but managed to stifle the words. This was getting to be a very strange day indeed. She wasn't one my teachers, she taught some sort of girlie classes, but along with most of the other pupils and teachers, (female as well as male probably), I lusted after her from afar. And she was here, having some sort of sex game with a bloke who had left her here, alone! What the fuckin' 'ell!
Approaching her, I could see pink cords were tied around her knees, and her ankles were fastened to the chair legs. Her wrists were out of sight behind her and fastened to the chair back.
I pulled the ball from her mouth, it was held by strong elastics. She slavered a bit, then said, "Who is it? Who's there?"
My own mouth was very dry, but I managed to croak, "What's happening, who was that man?"
She seemed to jump at my voice, but she said, "He's going to rape me. I - I think he's going to kill me! Please help me, I need to get away from here!"
"Where's he gone, how long before he comes back?"
"I don't know; he was angry, he forgot something that he had planned to use on me! Oh please hurry up, I've got to get away before he comes back!"
I was thinking furiously. I wanted to help her, but if the guy came back he might kill me too!
She started to whinge again, her voice taking on an angry authorative tone. "Take this blindfold off and get me untied! And get these things off my breasts they're terribly painful," Just like a teacher, bossing me about.
"Be quiet!" I told her, "I'll get you out but I can't let you see me!"
"Why? Why can't I see you? Just untie me and then I can get away myself!"
I wasn't going to do that, was I? I untied the cords holding her knees together and then released her wrists from the chair but left them tied behind her back. I helped her to her feet. Now with her standing, I saw the reason for the appearance of her breasts; they had the same pink cords tied around them close to her chest. They had started to turn a bit purple and must have hurt like mad, but I couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
I told her to shut up and just let me guide her but she started talking again so I pushed the ball back into her mouth and tightened up the straps. I had to bend down and release her ankles, which brought me closer to her crotch. I tried, pathetically I suppose, to sniff its aroma.
A pile of clothes was lying in a corner; I saw a dress, panties, tights, bra and the coat I had first seen her in.
I took her by the elbow and started for the stairs, then I had an idea. I grabbed up her coat and some of her clothes; perhaps the kidnapper would think she had freed herself; she wouldn't run off still naked, when she had a coat, would she? When I picked it up I saw a length of the same pink cord which it had been hiding. There was also a Polaroid camera, the only "instant" ones available in those days. I grabbed that as well.
I took a good look at her for the first time. I was a bit shocked to see she had no panties on! She was wearing black nylon sussies and stockings. High heels with ankle straps brought her height up so that she was taller than me by a couple of inches. She was a well-formed shapely woman with a gorgeous figure and an arse that looked all big, round and lovely! Her pubes were neatly trimmed, (shaving wasn't the norm in those days) and the same sandy colour as her "pageboy bob". My cock was standing up, larger than I had ever seen it; so big it was hurting me! As I helped her down the steps I felt myself, ridiculously, trying not to let it touch her. It was a hazardous descent. She was wobbling on her heels and with not being able to see she nearly fell a number of times.
Out in the road I checked that the coast was clear and wondered which way to go. I took her past a couple of doors and then chose one that I knew well and pulled her inside. It was another building much like the first, one which I had visited on previous visits, but the rooms were larger having once housed machinery.
"Going upstairs, lift your feet up!" I ordered. It felt good, telling a helpless woman what to do; I liked it. I also liked taking a peep at her arse from below; it was an incredible sight!
I took her right to the top of the stairs and through some rooms at the back. Finally I stopped, I knew this room well; I had been up here before, wanking as I secretly watched the occasional woman stroll past.
Spreading her coat onto the cold floor, (ever the gentleman) I made her sit on it. I bent one of her legs at the knee and tied her ankle to her wrists. I rolled her onto her side. There was no chance of her getting to her feet.
I needed my clothes. "Don't make a sound, I'll be back in a minute."
I left her and went to the front room and watched the road for a moment. I dashed down the steps, glanced up and down the street and ran. I got into the shed just as the van returned!
I watched from the gap in the door with trepidation as the van pulled up. The same man climbed out, holding an Asda carrier- bag. He looked around then entered the building where he had left Miss Holland. A few moments later he came out again, looking flustered. He scanned the street quickly, then jumped in the van and roared away, the tyres spitting gravel.
I felt myself grinning; the field was clear for me.
Once I was dressed I dug out a packet of Jaffa Cakes and a bottle of Vimto from my saddle-bag and returned to my captive, detouring to fetch the chair on my way.
She had thrashed around a little and had moved herself partly off the coat and onto the cold wooden floor.
"Oh you silly girl, Miss Holland, you've got yourself all mucky! Let's get you on your feet and then we can get you sorted out."
I untied the ankle cord, and helped her up. She started to make sounds through her gag.
"Frances, shut up! I'm going to take the gag away, but if you start to gab at me or shout for help, I will put it back for keeps. Then, if you are good, I will take off the strings from your titties. But I can put them back on if you misbehave. Nod if you understand." She nodded and I could see tears running below the blindfold. As I dropped my pants and kicked them out of the way, it occurred to me I had never stripped off so many times in one day before.
I slackened the gag straps so I could move it well clear of her face. Her mouth drooled for a moment, then she started to gabble, "Please don't hurt me! You can untie me and just leave me, I wont tell anyone. Don't let him come back for me, please!"
I could smell the rubber on her breath, I quite liked it.
"Calm down, Fran. Remember what I said about you being a good girl? Our agreement, hmm?
The bad man has gone, he's not going to get you. Your problem is; you're still here with me. And I haven't done with you yet. But don't worry, I wont kill you. I just want you to keep me company for a while. Maybe you can teach me something. Now let's see what we can do."
I checked the titty strings; they were tied with bows which was lucky because I had nothing to cut them with. But then I remembered the camera. Checking it I found it was fully loaded, so I started to take some snaps of her; Miss Holland standing with her feet apart, from the back, bent over, close ups of those big purple tits, the lovely big round arse, the neat slit of her cunt; I took pics from all angles.
"Let's take these off now," I told her. I held up one tit in my hand. The nipple was standing out the length of a finger joint; talk about chapel coat-pegs! I pulled at the end of the bow and let it unfasten. I was surprised when she began to moan with pain; I thought I was easing it! Tears trickled down her cheeks; I hadn't realised the rush of blood back into the tits would be so painful. I untied the other one and watched the colour of it change. She was moaning quite loudly now, but I was enjoying the effect I was able to have on her. Helpfully, I massaged them to restore the blood supply. I began to pass my hands all over her body.
I was particularly interested her belly, I don't know why, I just liked the way it curved gently outward from under the suspender belt. I kept coming back to it, stroking it and then reaching between her legs to gently probe her cunt lips, tugging at her pubic hair and to pull apart her bum cheeks to examine her tiny puckered arse hole.
It was time to take things a step further. I had to fuck her, but I was still afraid of what I was doing. Fuck her! I'd never even been with a naked woman, I'd never seen a minge before! And here I was, in charge of a lovely, helpless piece of cunt.
I bent her over forwards over the chair-back and pulled her feet wide apart. I nuzzled her cunt and gave it a tentative lick. She didn't smell fishy, as I had expected. Instead there was a slight aroma of sweat and piss. I pressed my cock head against her cuntlips, not really knowing how to fuck a woman. I was nervous and the first lunge missed and my cock slid up and along the crease of her bottom, suddenly ejaculating upwards and spurting hot cum onto her back. My cock kept pulsing for at least ten seconds, coating her with cum up to between her shoulder blades!
When I orgasmed, my urge passed off like a weight lifting from my shoulders. In its place a terrible depression and fear of retribution fell on me, as it always did when I did my public nudie thing. I wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible, but I knew that if I just left it at that, I would miss out on an opportunity that would never present itself again. So I forced myself to stay put, and ignore the rising panic.
While I waited for my sex urge to return, which never took very long, (sometimes, riding home after a naked ramble, I would find myself having to return because the desire had returned), I decided to talk with Miss Holland. Partly, I felt so badly about what I had done to her that I wanted to try and sort of make friends with her.
I helped her to sit on the chair while she got her breath back. I gave her a drink from my bottle, which made her cough.
"How did you come to be in that state, with that man I mean?"
She sniffed and replied, " He just came to my house. I was just about to go out when the doorbell rang. When I opened the front door he just pushed me inside. He was very rough, he tied me up and gagged me. He made me put on a coat and hustled me out to the van, all the time threatening to kill me. I don't know why no-one saw us in the street. He brought me here, wherever it is and made me undress and then put on a dress and some underwear that he had brought.
Once I was dressed up he undressed me again! I think he was about to rape me. Then he remembered he had left a dildo behind and was very angry with me, as if it was my fault. That's where he had gone, when you came."
"What's a dildo?" I wondered, but didn't want to show my ignorance.
She started to whine again and beg me to release her, so I gagged her and made her stand up. I bent her over the chair and slapped her big arse a few times before pulling her upright again.
"Do you think you're the teacher and I'm in your classroom? Get real you fucking bitch! Any more, and I'll kick your fat arse down the fuckin' stairs!" It felt marvellous, talking to her like that.
I was getting hard again, and I knew I would be able to fuck her soon. But I didn't want another failure, I wanted to be hard but not to go off too quickly. That had been mainly due to having my hard-on too long.
I had never had a blow job, or a gobble as we used to call it. Did I dare put it in her mouth? I bent the helpless woman at the waist and pushed her head down to it."Suck me, Miss Holland!" I commanded.
"Please don't do this. How do you know my name? Are you a pupil at my school? Why are you not helping me?"