Welcome Bac Fran!

Chapter 1: The Girl

"See ya later, pal," called Charlie from the bend in the stairwell.

Standing in the open doorway of the apartment, Frank gave him a wave. It had been good of Charlie to take all this trouble and Frank was grateful. Charlie was a good friend - always had been.

Charlie, now further down the stairs near the front door, yelled, "And maybe you'll get a little surprise before I come back."

"Whaddya mean?" shouted Frank, taking a step towards the stairs.

"Maybe you'll get lucky," floated up the stairwell from Charlie, mysteriously, before the sound of the front swing door closing ended the cryptic conversation.

Not understanding any of it, Frank shook his head and, bewildered, turned back into the apartment. He closed his door and, as he took the few paces towards the bedroom, glimpsed his reflection in the hall mirror. What a sight! The scars on what was left of his face might heal eventually but they would be there for a long time. He moved on down the hall to the bedroom, sank onto the bed and took stock of his surroundings and the past twelve months.

It had begun some time last year; he couldn't remember when. He couldn't exactly remember anything, except that his motorcycle had finally come off at that bend and thrown him over a cliff, bouncing him off the rocks on the way down. His injuries had been bad; the hall mirror testified to that. The guys in the oncoming vehicle had been even unluckier, one of them dying in the accident. The paramedics had fixed up Frank, before handing him over to the hospital - and the cops. When he was fit to stand, they threw more rocks at him - of the legal kind.

This was Frank's first taste of freedom for some time. Those months behind bars had been tough (aren't they always?) and this bed (king-size: what had Charlie been thinking - that he'd be entertaining guests?) was the best thing he'd known in a year. The rest of the apartment was also well appointed: comfortable, big enough to relax in, for several people. There was a second bedroom, plus a big shower, a long cooking-dining-living area and a full-length balcony through the French doors. How the hell Charlie thought he was ever going to pay all this off ...

Frank gave up trying to figure it out and turned to open the bedside cupboard. There was a bottle of Scotch, a glass and a note which read, 'Hey buddy, you've been away a while. Help yourself!' Yeah, it had been a while, he thought. Collecting ice from the freezer, he lay back to let the whisky tingle its way down his throat and start to remind him what it was like to be a human being again. He got up, switched on the cable TV to watch what other human beings were doing.

His body now began to remind him how long it really was since he had last relaxed like this. He realized he was thirsty, and tired - and, yeah, he was horny, too! But - first things first. Three slugs of Scotch later, he was just starting to drift off into a fantasy world, half-sleep, half-reality, when the apartment doorbell jolted him fully awake again.

He switched off the TV and, as he weaved along the hallway clutching his glass, the half-bottle of scotch he had already drunk causing him to brush unsteadily against the walls on either side, he thought to himself, 'That Charlie thinks of everything except keeping his own key!' and reminded himself to give his friend a good-natured kick in the teeth. He swung the door open with the half-prepared accusation on his lips. But it wasn't Charlie. To his stunned surprise, standing there, looking a little lost, a bit confused and shy, was a really cute-looking schoolgirl.

Frank's first thought was, 'If this is about selling cookies or collecting for charity, I'm not interested.' Charity, however, prevailed in his second thought: maybe the girl was another of Charlie's ideas. Her appearance was just unusual enough to make him wonder. He looked at her again, more closely this time. She could have been 18 or 19 but she looked younger. He seemed to hear Charlie's voice in his ear, saying, 'Just the way you like 'em, eh, Frankie?' And Frank could not but admit that this was, indeed, exactly the way he liked them.

It should be said that Frank was no child molester. Horny as he was now (and, for that matter, all his life) - and having been so long separated from anything feminine, his appetite was sharp as a knife - nevertheless, sex for him was 'anything goes, except with children or animals'. But a schoolgirl fantasy - that was something else; and this girl was a wet dream! He noticed with some relief that, even though she had registered the scarring of his face, she had not recoiled in horror. for the first time in a year he felt human - and for the first time since leaving jail he felt his penis harden.

He allowed himself a few seconds to take in the whole picture. It was close to perfect. Tucked into her pleated skirt, she wore a a long-sleeved white shirt, beneath which her budding young breasts were discreetly obvious, gently separated by a striped tie, echoing the colours in her school jacket. Below her knees, visible a little lower than the skirt hem, were long white socks and the ensemble was complemented with black, ordinary, 'sensible' shoes. Her light brown hair, parted in the middle, was shoulder length and floppy, perfectly framing her wide-eyed, pretty, little-girl face. over her shoulder she carried a school bag. Even at this short distance it was possible to detect the subtle hint of a dab of perfume over her natural body scent. She was gorgeous!

Then he suddenly realized he had long been staring at her in a very personal way and, with a touch of embarrassment, was about to speak when she beat him to it, asking, "You Frank?"

Unprepared for her to start the dialogue, he was momentarily stunned, eventually stammering, "Uh - yes ... sorry - you want to come in?"

Without replying, she stepped past him into the hall and made her way towards the bedroom he had just left. She seemed to know her way around. Obviously this was indeed the 'surprise' his friend had alluded to when he left. Her rear end jiggled sexily just in front of him: not too obviously but, like with plenty of teenage girls, just enough to keep him highly aroused.

He adjusted his hard-on in his pants and, without thinking, his gaze fixed on her buttocks moving beneath her school skirt, he asked, "Charlie send you?"

The girl stopped, turned to him and said, seemingly totally innocently, "Who?"

"Never mind," said Frank, deciding he'd go along with Charlie's little game. "Drink?" he asked her. "I got some scotch here."

"Just Coke, thanks," she replied, walking on to the kitchen-diner door and dropping her bag.

He wasn't sure he could supply that but moved to check the fridge. Whether she did it deliberately or not he couldn't tell, but she didn't shift, staying in the doorway, half blocking it, forcing him to brush past her. In doing so, as he pressed closely against her young body, he became aware of the firmness of her lovely young tits under the school uniform shirt. At the same time she was left in no doubt about his erection, which by now was brutally large. It was the first time they had touched and it offered a tantalizing promise of the intimacy he guessed - hoped - they were going to share.

Sure enough, he found Coke - and food and much else besides - in the fridge and cupboards. That Charlie - he had thought of everything! Frank handed the girl her drink, which she accepted with a hushed 'thank you'. He then realized that so far she'd been introduced only to his cock - and then only 'in passing', as it were. He needed to know her better.

"What's your name?"

"Kim."

Just a single syllable, spoken softly in her little-girl voice but for Frank it was a huge turn-on. It made her sound vulnerable and in need of protection. At the same time, perversely, her simple pronunciation of the name inflamed the longing inside him, making him want to violate her innocence. His civilized mind was telling him to take it easy but his animal brain was screaming at him to rip her shirt open and lick those tits; suckle her nipples; press her against the wall, grope under her little pleated skirt, shove his hand down her panties and feel her moist and downy young slit; pick her up, throw her on the bed and ... whoa! Frank told himself to slow down. His civilized mind had won the battle - for now.

He poured some Coke into his scotch and made for his bedroom again - by way of the kitchen-diner door. Kim was still leaning against the frame. This time as he brushed past, he stopped, just for a second, to rub his hard-on against her. Was it his imagination, or did she respond, very gently?

He moved on to the open bedroom door, then turned back and, with a voice as calm as he could make it, softly enquired: "Join me?"

Kim made no reply but simply took another sip of Coke, put her glass down, picked up her bag and slowly followed him inside. By the time she got there Frank had kicked off his shoes and was just straightening out on the far side of the bed, his hands behind his head. He was trying to act cool but a guy who hasn't had any pussy for months can only do so much. Besides, the long hard cylinder inside his Levis told Kim all she needed to know. She removed her school jacket, arranging it neatly over the back of a chair. She turned back to face him, her crisp white school shirt and tie making Frank ache with longing for her. She looked so virginal and desirable. Her perky little nipples were dimly visible through the cotton material. This schoolgirl didn't need a bra - and she wasn't wearing one.

To Frank, now that the chips were down, the atmosphere was strangely tense. The proximity of this unbearably sexy young chick and his many months of enforced celibacy were beginning to make him tremble slightly. Kim helped to defuse the situation by finding the radio and tuning to some music. Then she crossed to his side of the bed and started to undo the button on one of her shirt cuffs. But Frank had other ideas - lecherous ones, of course.

"No. Leave your gear on for now," he said quietly.

He was controlling his voice in an attempt to conceal his hunger for her. But he knew she wasn't fooled. He guessed these professional escort chicks could pick an impossibly horny bastard like him a mile away. 'That's how they earn their money, after all,' he thought.

Kim sat on the edge of the bed. Frank moved towards the middle to make room for her. She kicked off her school shoes and swung her white-socked feet onto the coverlet, propping herself on her left elbow. She elegantly and unfussily raised her right knee, letting her pleated skirt ride up to reveal the inside of her bare thigh and offer a glimpse of her plain white panties.

Frank was very impressed with her attention to detail. A more obvious and less intelligent girl, he told himself, would have chosen sexy lingerie, which would have looked good on her but would have ruined the illusion of the virginal student. The socks and the knickers were a brilliant idea. His admiring assessment of her was terminated abruptly, however, when without warning Kim reached over and gently placed her right hand on the iron-hard lump in his jeans. It was as much as he could do to suppress a groan. But, despite his efforts to stay cool, he could not stop himself from jumping slightly.

"You're very uptight," she said softly. "What's the problem?"

Frank, not wanting to go into details, merely smiled at her, saying, "It's been a long time."

"OK, we can take it easy," she replied, covering his raging cock again with her hand on his jeans.

After a few moments of gentle stroking, she knelt up on the bed, released his jeans at the waist and, taking great care not to catch his underwear or that giant piece of meat in the teeth of the zip, slowly drew his denims downwards, towards his aching testicles. When she had finished this delicate operation, with a little help from Frank, who lifted his arse off the bed slightly, the tip of his penis, by this time a monstrous rigid truncheon of flesh, screaming for sexual release, was visible above the waist band of his underpants. After successfully repeating the simpler task of lowering these as well, Kim murmured quietly in admiration of the revealed beast.

in a tone of voice - which sounded genuine to Frank - she said, "Mmm, you've got a lovely prick," before bending over and gently licking its exquisitely sensitive underside, just below the tip.

This time Frank could not suppress an audible groan, which intensified when she slid her tongue up over the end slit. Almost immediately a bead of pre-cum appeared and ran down the other side, which, desperately stiff as he was, was almost touching his belly. Frank knew he couldn't stand much more of this but was resolved not to blow too soon.

Kim, on the other hand, was acting like she had other ideas. After liberally, painstakingly, coating the entire length of his dick with her saliva, she knelt up once more and threw her right leg over Frank, straddling him. Watching his face closely for every reaction, she then raised the hem of her skirt again, higher this time, and leaned back slightly on her hands to let him gaze at her panty-covered crotch.

Frank was losing it and he knew it but he gritted his teeth and did all he could to stop himself from coming. He had to explore the offered territory. Extending a hand, with his middle finger he first stroked, gently but firmly, Kim's pubic mound through her panties, then vertically up and down the covered slit of her cunt. Finally, after a minute or so of this glorious torture, he slid a finger into a leg opening of her knickers. He found, as he knew he would, a moist slit, framed by firm and puffy cunt lips and a just discernible protrusion, which he correctly assumed to be her clitoris, the whole beautiful area lightly covered with the softest adolescent down.

Kim had been leaning back, silently, with her eyes closed throughout all this but, when he inserted his finger into her vaginal opening and started to push it in and out, she decided to take matters into her own hands - literally. She leant up once more onto her knees, letting her skirt fall back over her thighs and covering Frank's hand; then, without warning, she reached under the skirt, gripped his desperately eager cock, angled it upright and wanked it gently but firmly two or three times.

That finished Frank. Try as he might, there was no holding back the flood this time. He dragged his hand out of her knickers, his body partly jack-knifing in ecstasy, and shot a thick streak of white hot sperm straight up under Kim's skirt and over her hand and thigh. She gave a startled little shriek, dropped his prick and swung off his body and off the bed. Even though his penis had been released from her delicate clutch, Frank's orgasm was unstoppable, an uncontrollable volley of come continuing to blast from his prick, covering his belly and chest and hitting his face and the wall behind his head. He had to grasp his penis firmly to bring at least the direction of his spurting under some control.

Eventually the cannonade slowed and finally stopped. With eyes closed, he gently cradled his relieved balls, aching after the release. Cursing himself for behaving like a callow schoolboy on a first date, he caught his breath and looked up to see Kim wiping the worst of his massive discharge off the inside of her skirt. Embarrassed at his loss of control, he spoke to her apologetically.

"Sorry. Like I said, it's been a long time - but I've never come like that before - ever." Somehow he felt his apology was inadequate. "I'll pay for any cleaning," he added, lamely.

Kim seemed untroubled by it all and said, quite dismissively, "It's OK. It sponges off. Besides, I've got other clothes in my bag."

"No, don't change!" he said quickly.

She paused in her sponging and turned to him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He smiled at her shyly, rapt to see her standing there, in her school knickers, shirt, tie and socks, cleaning his semen off the inside of her skirt. There was something about her 'professional schoolgirl' outfit that he found irresistibly arousing. He wanted to reserve the right fully to enjoy this fantasy and make up for his recent disastrous lack of control. He badly needed to take her, slowly, deeply, fiercely; to subdue her to whatever twist of lust his starved imagination might conjure up. Despite his recent shattering orgasm, amazingly he already felt renewed sexual stirrings for her. Who cared about a little dried spunk? It might just make everything a bit kinkier. His prick jerked upwards in anticipation.

Kim's eyes flicked downwards momentarily to register the movement; then, looking Frank squarely in the eye, she wrapped the pleated skirt around her waist again and fastened it at the side, softly saying, "It might be a bit wet at first."

"That's how I like it," grinned Frank.

Kim approached the bed once more, climbed on at the foot and, lifting her damp skirt, worked her way up towards Frank on her knees. When she reached his waist she stopped, frowned and, leaning forward, extended her finger to remove some come that had landed on his cheek during his eruption. She licked it experimentally, then sucked the rest into her mouth and swallowed it with apparent relish.

"Nice," she said, approvingly. "Not everybody's is. But yours is nice."

She moved further up over Frank's upper torso and gripped the bed head as she placed her pussy over his face, gently rocking her hips backwards and forwards. Frank's moans of ecstasy were audible above the music from the radio as he inhaled her personal, private aroma. He raised both hands and stroked down her back, under the curve of her arse and under her skirt as he slowly licked the crotch of her knickers and pushed his tongue hard against her panty-covered cunt.

His levis, still bunched below his scrotum since the earlier débacle, revealed that he now had a raging hard-on again and his balls were tight in their sac. Holding her buttocks firmly in his grasp, he worked his tongue around the opening of her knickers trying to get to her fleshy young pussy lips. The splay of her legs, though, made this too difficult. Reluctantly, he reached up and slowly began to pull her panties down over her tight little arse. With some help from Kim, they managed to get one leg free, at the same time ridding Frank of his denims.

Now, with her knickers halfway down her other thigh, Frank licked freely along the slit of her fragrant cunt, running his tongue up and down inside the fleshy outer labia. He sucked these puffy lips, with their delicate covering of young downy fur, then nibbled on her clit, for the first time producing from Kim a little moan of pleasure. She bucked gently against Frank's invasive tongue, wordlessly begging for more.

Frank moved his hands upwards once again. Firmly grasping one of her arse cheeks with one hand, he boldly felt for her anus with the middle finger of his other. For a few seconds he rubbed his finger repeatedly across her puckered arsehole, never at any time relaxing the pressure of his tongue on her by now highly aroused cunt. Then, gently but decisively, he pushed past her sphincter, embedding his longest finger in her anus up to the second knuckle, evoking a delighted squeal of pleasure from Kim.

"Ohhh! Yes! Oh, you dirty bastard, I love that!"

In the circumstances, with the flesh of Kim's cunt pressed hard against his nose and mouth, Frank was content to be thought a dirty bastard. He moaned incoherently into her crotch, sniffing and tasting her most intimate effusions. He began to rotate his finger inside her rectum while still occasionally fucking it in and out. To help intensify the pleasure, he also started licking a little higher, unsheathing the hood of her clit, which was stiffening up and now stood out wetly from her vulva. 'God, she's a hot piece of cunt!' he thought, as he sucked blissfully at her tiny hard little dick.