He was leering. Not at me; but rather at the school-girl version of me. “Come-on, Petra, let’s go and have some fun,” Justine said, pulling me...back the way we’d come. “Juzzy!” Justine stopped. “What did you call me?” My brain was empty and I had to think about the shape that my mouth had formed. “Juzzy?” “Since when was I ‘Juzzy’?” “I… err.” In my head: that’s where the reality of ‘Mistress Justine’ had softened into the teenage fantasy of ‘Juzzy’ – the kind of girl who had ‘normal’. He plled off his t-shirt hurriedly, baring his chest then slid to his knees and ran his hands up and down my stockinged legs before kissing around my exposed upper thighs. I wriggled a little to his attentions then felt him ease my legs apart as I stared up at the lights in the distance. His mouth closed around my outer labia sucking gently, then licking and lapping at my pussy. I was warm and moist for him and his tongue seemed to revel in exploring. His hands grabbed onto my ass and I pushed. More

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