I’m so happy to be picked as today’s “Pretty Girl”. I never applied for it, and I never thought it could happen to little old me! But I guess I attracted a whole lot of attention, and so…
It’s a little embarrassing, but I’ll try to tell the story of how I created the stir that got me picked for this pictorial. You see, I have a white dress and this white top I’m wearing. They were both in my closet this morning when I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the rustle ofcurtains swaying in a gentle breeze. What a beautiful morning!
I pulled what I *thought* was my white dress of the hanger, put it on, and dashed out of my dorm room, because breakfast was almost over, and I didn’t want to miss the most important meal of the day!
It wasn’t until I got all the way to the dining hall that I realized I had put on the top, and not the dress! Imagine my embarrassment! I could have gone back to my room to change, I suppose, but then I would have missed breakfast.
I must have turned beet red, but I summoned the courage to ask the student taking tickets at the door, “Is it OK to have breakfast dressed this way?” I flicked my wrists in a way that I hoped illustrated my complete lack of bottoms, but for whatever reason, the boy didn’t understand my question.
“Dressed what way?” he asked. He looked into my eyes. What a sweet kid.
“So I’m ok, wearing what I’ve got on, then?”
“Sure,” he said. “That dress is very pretty.” His eyes flicked down and back to my eyes, and he smiled at me.
I smiled back. “Great,” I said, and off I went to get on the chow line. After a few steps, I looked back to see if the boy was admiring my butt, and to tell you the truth I was a little disappointed he wasn’t. It was like he sees bottomless girls every day. Well, come to think of it, maybe he does. But I always thought those girls were being punished for something, and I felt embarrassed for them. Even though the rules say any student can rub a girl’s bare butt, I never felt right doing that, because I figured the girl was humiliated enough without me piling on.
But then it happened to me! I felt someone brush up against me, and didn’t think anything of it at first. But then it happened again, and I turned around to look. It was a cute young girl, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. I was about to say “Excuse me,” as a subtle social cue that she should keep her hands off me when she hugged me in a kind of hungry way. I spread my legs just to brace myself, and she took it as an invitation to feel me up big time. Her touch was sweet and gentle. She spread her legs, too, and told me it would be OK.
“What would be OK?” I asked innocently, trying to think non-sexy thoughts as I felt my sexual excitement skyrocket.
“You don’t need to worry about the fondling rules,” she said. “Here, I’ll take ’em off for you.” Without any wasted energy, she dropped her panties to the floor and stepped out of them. She didn’t even bother to pick them up. I felt like I was about to cum, and it just seemed natural to kiss her, so I did. It was the first time I had ever kissed a girl. It was amazing! I lost all track of time, and then my whole body climaxed at once. Another first for me: a whole-body orgasm. I had heard of such a thing, but never experienced until just then.
We got our food, and then I watched my lover, still naked, join her girlfriends, who were all wearing panties. I looked for an empty table, and tried to listen to their conversation, but I couldn’t quite make it out. Were they talking about me? Or was she explaining why she was naked?
I found an empty table, and sat down. I swished my hand behind me, as if I were wearing a dress, and then remembered, with a touch of embarrassement that I was bottomless. Hoping no one saw me swish my imaginary dress, I sat down. The chair was much colder than I expected. Maybe it was because my pussy was still pretty wet. Or maybe my whole bottom was still a bit overheated. It felt good, actually. I smiled to myself as I spread my legs, and arched my back to cool off my pussy. Then I felt a rush of embarrassment, and looked around. No one saw me do that; good.
The breakfast crowd had thinned considerably by the time I refilled my glass of orange juice, so I didn’t feel quite so self consious. The naked girl with her panty-clad friends got up to leave, and one by one, the girls slapped me on the butt, and then the naked girl reached under me and gave me an atomic pussy goose! How did she know I was still wet? It felt disgusting and amazingly good, all at the same time. “Bye,” she said, and all her friends giggled. Was this just some crazy girl with a bunch of silly friends, just playing a joke on me? Or is this the bottomless culture at the College?
I thought about going back to my dorm room and changing into the white dress I had intended to wear, but then I would never know first hand how bottomless girls are treated here at the college. Intellectually, I knew all the rules. Show skin in public, and you’ll be fondled. Or worse, show sexual excitement in public, and you might get raped. In the back of my mind I was a little worried about that, because my pussy was still showing signs of sexual excitement.
I squatted by the exit of the dining hall, trying to make up my mind whether to go back to my dorm and change or take the risk of walking the campus on this delightful morning with my bottom on full display and my pussy in a bit of an uproar.
“Are you OK?” a boy asked. “Let me help you up.” Instead of taking my hand, he cupped his hand under me letting his palm caresse my wet pussy, and slipping a finger between my butt cheeks until it rested on my asshole. I felt my pussy “hiccup”. Well, that’s what I call it, anyway, when it contracts involuntarily. It usually happens when I’m about to cum. The boy put his other hand around my waist, beneath my top, while he continued to lift me up. I felt my cheeks close around his finger as I stood up, and remembered the rule. I spread my legs to give his finger full access to my asshole, and rested some of my weight on the gentle palm of his hand. Just as I was about to cum again, the boy gently withdrew his hand, leaving me squatting with a throbbing pussy. I couldn’t bring myself to beg him to finish me, but that’s what I wanted him to do with all my heart.
Maybe he could see it in my eyes. He unzipped his pants, took them off, and laid them gently on the ground. He put a hand under my neck, and another under my butt, and gently laid me on the ground. He pressed my knees to the ground, spreading me as far as humanly possible. I must have been quite a sight, my pussy all red and moist and spread wide open. He gently stroked my inner thighs, each stroke leading to my pussy, but stopping just short of it. “Don’t cum yet,” he wispered. “OK,” I said, feeling that I was somehow under his mind control. When he sensed I could take it without cumming, he stroked my lips, just to watch me do a little convultion. I arched my back, and lefted my butt off the ground, which prompted him to kiss me sweetly, and stroke my butt. “Take it easy, girl,” he said. Then he resumed stroking my thighs, and my belly.
By this time, his hard-on was rock hard. I had never been raped before, and I sure didn’t get up this morning expecting to be raped, but I guess it’s a chance I took by dressing this way. I looked up and saw a sea of people — my fellow students — watching me. What were they wondering? Would she cry when she was raped? Would she cum? More than once? Would he rip her clothes off, and leave her naked afterwards? Each rape was a new and exciting experience, for none more so than the participants, especially the girl.
I expected him to drop on top of me and shove his dick into me, but instead, he lifted me by the thighs with both hands, forcing me to hug him to keep from falling. With one hand, he deftly inserted his dick into me and let me slide down onto it. I was so close to cumming, that it just took one push. I didn’t hold back, either. I screamed in his ear when I hit bottom. Then he lifted me almost completely off his dick, and let me slide down again. And again, and again. It must have been the fourth or fifth time that he exploded inside me, and I came again. He had moved his hands to my butt, practically ripping it apart, while at the same time, magically caressing my asshole with one finger of each hand. I know I’m supposed to feel humiliated by being raped, and cumming in such a loud way with all my classmates watching. After all, it’s against the rules for me to get excited in public, and then when I broke that rule, the punishment is to be raped. I get all that. But my rapist was such a sweet boy, I just couldn’t feel anything but love for him and joy at the experience of cumming twice in such rapid succession! I knew I would feel guilty later for enjoying my rape, but that’s the way I felt right at that moment.
I guess the boy had taken my clothes off, because I was naked when he set me down. He was nice enought to look around for my top, find it, and hand it to me before putting on his own pants. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and thanked him. For what, he wanted to know. For being such a thoughtful rapist, I told him, and kissed him again. He got all bashful, and just left without saying goodbye. I watched him go off into the distance, his butt looking very manly in those jeans.
Now what? I went to the garden to sit and think. Would I be raped again? Probably not, I guessed. I felt like I was all cum’ed out, and it was time to relax. I mean, relax my pussy, relax my asshole, and just be a girl again. I mean I was feeling cute and cuddly wearing just a top, but not feeling sexy, per se. I just wanted to enjoy the morning, and do some people watching. Were there other bottomless girls walking around? Or better yet, any girls even less dressed than me?
“I saw you get raped back there,” a boy said.
I looked up to see he was cute. “Yes,” I said. “It wasn’t so bad.”
“Did you cum?” He asked, looking at my pussy.
I blushed, and pressed my legs together to try to hide from the boy. It was such a forward question, which I really didn’t want to answer. But something about being bottomless in public seemed to invite forward-thinking individuals to just reach out to me in both senses of the word.
“You came, didn’t you,” he said. “Can I see?”
“See what?” I asked, wishing the boy would just leave.
“I would like to see your pussy,” he said.
“Just like that? You want to see my pussy? And you think just because I’m bottomless that I’ll just spread my legs and show you my pussy?” I was starting to get made, to be honest.
But the boy was disarming. “It’s OK, girl,” he said, stroking my hair. “I know it’s hard for you to open up to strangers. Especially right after being raped,” he added.
“Thank you for understanding,” I said.
“So, will you spread your legs, please? I just want to see.” He was almost pleading with me. Part of me just wanted to give in to his outrageous demand out of… what? Pity? Or just to get rid of him? I wasn’t sure.
“I thought we had an understanding,” I said.
“So did I,” said the boy, suddenly very businesslike. “My understanding is that you are a girl at the College, and you aren’t wearing any pants. So I can get you to open up and show me your pussy if I want to.”
“No you can’t!”
“You’re going to make me do it, aren’t you.”
“You’re going to make me touch you, and then by the Fondling Rule, you’ll be forced to spread your legs and show me your pussy.”
“Don’t you want to touch me?” I suddenly realized the boy’s dick wasn’t hard. What red-blooded hetorosexual— That’s it! The boy is a homo! “Are you *scared* to touch me?!” I asked.
He blushed. I knew it! He started to run away.
“Wait!” I yelled. “Come back.” I spread my legs as far as they would go. My pussy was still a bit engorged, and my vagina popped open.
“Can I touch it?” he asked.
I chided him, “I thought you were scared to touch a girl.”
“But you’re so… So…”
I laughed. “So… what?” I gave him a little pat on the butt.
He kissed me softly on the cheek. And I mean my face. A single tear rolled straight down the front of his face. “You’re so beautiful,” he said at last.
I was touched. “Thank you.” I took his hand in mine, and guided it gently toward my thigh, and let him stroke it. He was so gentle and sweet, I nearly fell in love with him! “It’s OK,” I whispered.
He touched my lips, and stroked them so softly I had to watch his neatly manicured fingers to see he was touching me. He felt around the rim of my vagina, smelled his finger, and then licked my juices. “You smell nice,” he said.
“Do you want to feel the inside of my vagina?”
He answered me by gently probing me with his index finger. “Does it hurt?”
“No, of course not,” I said. As he probed me with his index finger, another finger made its way — unintentionally, I guess — to my asshole, and it felt kinda nice.
He withdrew his finger. “Thank you, girl,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” I smiled at him. Still no hard-on, alas. Such a sweet boy, lost to the other team. I watched him walk slowly away.