Insinuating a slim finger between the outer folds of my swollen pussey, I found my little pink clitoris and began to gently stroke and massage it until, swaying sensually from side to side and moaning and panting with pleasure, I nearly swooned with delight at the liquid fire which swept through my sex-flushed body.
Oblivious now to the voyeur beneath my window, I plunged three eager fingers deep into the dark recesses of my cunt, stroking and tickling the smooth, velvet walls as I simultaneously rubbed my erect clitoris, giving myself up to the intense orgasmic spasms which wracked my smooth young torso.
Moments later, pleased and triumphant at having reached my orgasm in so pleasing a manner, I turned to face my audience of one and was a little dismayed (though secretly as pleased as Punch) at the sight which eventually greeted me. It took me a second or two to locate Pieter, so silent and motionless was he as he lay prone amongst the primulas, a little last dribble of spunk oozing from the tip of his limp, lifeless tool.
'Why Pieter,' I hissed through the open window, 'I've never seen you in such a pickle. So dejected and woebegone and full of remorse. Just wait until I tell the other girls! Now, straighten your clothing and be off with you before I scream and wake the whole house. And don't let me catch you peeping at me in such a despicable manner again. Or any other girl for that matter!
Jumping to his feet and stuffing his soft little dick into his trousers, Pieter barely looked at me as, red-faced and ashamed, he muttered an unintelligible apology before shuffling off in a crab-like fashion to another part of the garden in order to reflect on his misdemeanours, past, present and future.
As soon as the wretched youth was out of sight I clapped my hands together in delight and laughed until the tears ran down my cheeks. 'Well, that took the wind out of the young rascal's sails,' I said to myself. 'It's about time boys learned that we girls don't always need stiff pricks to play with in order to have fun. Naughty thoughts and even naughtier fingers will do very nicely, thank you, when a girl feels that familiar little tingle in her pussey and has a mind to tickle her fancy!'
With that, I crossed swiftly to the closet in order to choose a suitable outfit for this day of days, filled as it was with erotic promise of the most exciting and compelling kind. I must choose quickly and with care, for this was the morning of my picnic with Michel Dupont and his companion, and I had not a-moment to lose for it was already 8.45 a.m., I had agreed to meet the boys at 12.00 noon, and I had two hours of history prep to catch up on before I could escape to the little pier where he kept his boat, fresh-faced and pussied, sweetly perfumed and ready for fun!
Impatiently pulling the gowns this way and that in my search, a little frown of concentration creasing my pretty brow, I secretly thrilled to the sensual feel of slippery satin, petal-soft silk and crisp white lace beneath my fingers.
Then, with a sigh of relief and pleasure, I found the ideal garment in which to enjoy a companionable lunch in the open air amongst friends, followed by fun and frolics in the afternoon sunshine-a floor-length fine-cotton gown of cornflower blue, trimmed with wide, creamy lace and topped with a tightly fitted, lowcut bodice which revealed a daring quantity of peachy bosom and my tiny, cinched-in waist which was the envy of all but a few of the other girls as well as a good many of the tutors.
Pulling it from its hanger and tossing it on the bed, I first of all slipped into my snowy-white undergarments-a semi-transparent camisole fashioned from the softest and sheerest Swiss lawn, trimmed with lace and blue satin bows, through which the generous contours of my big breasts with their luscious nipples were plainly visible; a pair of little matching panties which, cut from the same sheer fabric as the camisole, showed my curvy bottom and the soft blonde triangle of my pussey hair and finally a pair of silky white stockings held up by frilly blue satin garters.
Checking my reflection in the looking-glass and turning this way and that, it occurred to me what a great pity it was that I was forced to conceal this delightful confection by wearing a dress over the top of it all. Wouldn't the boys just love it if I were to trip gaily down to the beach clad only in soft lace and sexy stockings, tits bouncing and bottom jiggling for all to see! But no matter, I felt sure that within a matter of an hour or so I'd be forced by the heat of the day, the situation and my emotions to remove my outer garments for the mutual delectation of the assembled group, and anyone else who may be around at the time.
Thus comforted, I swiftly donned my cornflower dress, wriggling a little and adjusting my full breasts in their tight bodice in order to show off my cleavage to its best advantage. Brushing my long hair a hundred times to make it shine like golden silk, I quickly ran downstairs for breakfast in the girls' dining-room before gathering up my history prep and heading for the library for a morning spent in the dubious company of Thomas Robespierre and the French Revolution.
And there I stayed until, at 12.00 sharp, I heard the big grandfather clock in the hall chime the hour and realised with a little thrill of panic that Nicole (for it was she who would be accompanying me and completing the happy foursome) and I were most likely going to be a little late for our liaison. But it is, I thought to myself, always has been and always will be a girl's prerogative to keep a man waiting. And, what's more, I felt sure their annoyance would be short-lived when they finally caught sight of the two of us girls, blonde and brunette, excited and eager and pretty as pictures in our summery clothes.
Nicole and I had agreed to meet by the front door of the Academy so, having quickly returned my books and papers to my room and, bright-eyed with anticipation, checked my appearance once again in the mirror above my dressing table, licking my lips to make them gleam and gently tugging down my bodice still further to show even more of my generous curves, I hurried to the designated spot and almost ran straight into her in my haste.
'Mon Dieu!' she cried in alarm, 'Where have you been, you naughty girl? Did you not notice the time? I've been waiting here for you for at least ten minutes… with a rumbling tummy and damp pussey!' she added under her breath with a salacious grin, so I knew she wasn't as angry as I'd first thought.
'Have patience, Nicole. The longer they wait the more the boys will appreciate us when we arrive. They'll be altogether keener and their appetites sharper if they're left to cool their heels for a minute or two, don't you think? Anyway, what are you afraid of? Do you think they'll leave without us?'
'Mais oui cherie, of course you're right as always. Come, let's go before we waste any more time!'
Grabbing my hand in hers Nicole raced me down the steps and, picking up our skirts, we ran together across the garden until we arrived at the little beach and the jetty with the pretty boat moored alongside.
And there they stood waiting for us, Michel and Antoine, two of the handsomest boys we could care to spend this beautiful afternoon with, and neither of them in the least bit annoyed at our lateness. Michel advanced towards me and gallantly raised my hand to his lips, his eyes straying from my hair, to my lips, to my heaving, sexily exposed breasts, where they lingered wickedly before settling once more on my face and returning my warm smile. I noticed that Nicole and Antoine were exchanging greetings in a similar manner, Antoine's amused grey eyes showing every sign of enjoying the sight of the raven-haired, blue-eyed beauty who stood before him.
As well he might. Seldom had I seem my Gallic friend looking quite so alluring or, indeed, quite so openly provocative as she did this day. Dressed in rose-pink silk, which beautifully complemented her warm olive complexion, her long straight hair hung like a heavy, gleaming, blue-black curtain over her shoulders and down her back, almost to her bottom. Her perfect, finely chiselled features possessed an aristocratic, slightly haughty but undeniably voluptuous grace and her sensual, curvy lips were lush and inviting. She was studying Antoine approvingly, her blue eyes twinkling and the tawny half-moons of her semi-revealed breasts rising and falling in a most exciting and stimulating manner.