She was back in the old converted barn that was the Ecstatic Sex clinic, or at least she assumed that's where she was. The room was decorated in the same Victorian style as the house where she'd spent her lunch hour, though it was not a part of the house she had been in. The room she was in looked like a bedroom, with a dressing table on one side of the room, and a large four post bed on the other. Stacy couldn't see any wardrobes or drawers, or any other kind of storage space where clothes could be stored, but if she was where she thought she was Stacy had an idea they would not be needed anyway. This was not a bedroom where someone was expected to stay the night. Although there was no one here to tell her, Stacy somehow knew exactly what it was she was supposed to do. Looking down at herself, Stacy saw that she was no longer dressed in her t-shirt and shorts, but instead wore a short, red dress with thin straps and a belt-like strap at the waist. Walking over towards the bed, she slid the straps down her shoulders and let them fall off her arms. Without anything to hold them up, the dress began to fall away, but it needed some help from Stacy before it would slide from her waist and drop down her legs. Stepping out of the dress, Stacy climbed up onto the bed, and lay down on her back.
Under her dress, Stacy was wearing a front fastening light pink bra and matching pink panties. Not her usually choice, as she didn't own any front fastening bra, and never wore pink. She thought nothing of this, however, apart from the fact of how sexy she felt in the light, feminine colour. Gently running her hands over her body, she traced the contours of her breasts and the slender lines of her belly. Her finger's bypassed her crotch area, and she stroked at her legs, before returning her attention to her breasts. Releasing the front fastening of the bra, she peeled away the cups and exposed her medium sized breasts, capped with nipples that were already hardening with her arousal. Stacy knew that she wasn't supposed to touch herself, but she couldn't resist briefly running her fingers round her areolas and caressing the stiff points. She shuddered at the throbbing it caused between her legs, and quickly stopped what she was doing. Stretching and lying back, she lifted her arms above her head and closed her eyes. The sensation of light, delicate fingers dancing over her breasts and round her nipples began at once, causing a soft murmur to escape her lips. Rather than moving to a different part of her body, the feeling began to spread. The feeling of being stroked and caressed over her breasts increased, while at the same time it gradually began to appear on her chest and underneath her breasts. The initial thought that there was some invisible lover touching her was dispelled. How could someone be touching her in so many places at once?
The feeling began to spread further across her body, as through hundreds of hands were playing with her, and she began to moan. Drawing her trembling hands down to her sides, Stacy shifted slightly so she could draw her panties down her legs and over her knees. Not bothering to remove them now her pussy was exposed, she returned her hands to their previous place on the pillow above her head. Her moans grew louder as more of her body began to tingle and pulsate. She spread her legs, opening her pussy so that the mysterious force that was making love to her could gain easier access. Waves of pure pleasure seemed to pour into her pussy from all sides and she threw back her head, thrusting her hips upwards in an attempt to get closer to the source. She suddenly felt something hard press against her g-spot and she screamed, her eyes snapping open.
***
Her eyes snapped open, uncontrollable screams pouring out of her. When she finally ran out of breath she looked around, trying to get her heavy breathing back under control. She was back in her flat, curled up on the sofa with an almost empty glass of wine on the table, and an Ecstatic Sex booklet open on her lap. The rest of the literature had fallen onto the floor while she slept. Looking at her body, she saw that she wasn't naked, but was still dressed in the casual t-shirt and the tight denim jeans that she had put on that morning. Her crotch felt absolutely soaked, though her shorts felt completely dry. Undoing the button and lowering the zip, she pulled them down a little and saw that the front of her knickers were almost completely saturated. Pulling of her shorts completely, she removed her wet panties and walked into the kitchen, clad in nothing but her t-shirt. The night air coming in through the open window drifted under her t-shirt cooling her damp crotch. She opened the door of the washing machine, already more than half full with dirty washing, and tossed the soiled underwear inside. Then, closing the open window and making sure all the other windows and the front door were locked, she drifted sleepily into the bedroom. Without removing her t-shirt or bra, or even pulling back the covers of the bed, she lay down and was asleep again in moments.
***
Amber always set her alarm on her days off, even though she didn't have to be up. It was a habit that she had never gotten out of. So, at 9am on Friday morning, the alarm went off and Amber reached out of bed to switch it off, before rolling over onto the other side of the bed and curling back up under the duvet. Two hours later, she threw back the sheets and rolled out of bed. The first thing she did, as usual, was to boot up her computer and check what email had come in. That way, if there was anything large she could let in download while she showered and dressed. This morning, though, there was nothing but junk. Unwanted newsletters that she's started getting after registering various pieces of software online, and a message from a lawyer in Nigeria saying that she was the only living relative of the recently deceased Mr. Ron Little. Please could she email him back with her full contact and bank details, so he could send her the inheritance of £250,000,000, minus a 10% handling fee? Amber dropped both of them into the recycling bin.
She was about to get up and go into the bathroom to shower, when a thought came to her. Just out of curiosity, why not have a look and see if this Ecstatic Sex clinic had a site on the Internet? Stacy seemed really against the idea of giving it a try, but if Amber got her some more information she might change her mind. Deleting the address of her home page from the address bar, Amber took a guess at what the name of the website might be, and keyed it in. The screen went white for a few moments as the page loaded. Then text and graphics reappeared, images of an erotic nature, but not too explicit. The clinic's name and logo were at the top of the page, with a few photographs and some information about policies further down. Amber saw links to feedback reports that patients had written, and movies that apparently showed examples of the techniques that the clinic employed. At the bottom of the page was a button that went to a links page of related sites elsewhere on the Internet. Amber hesitated. What did she want to look at first? She'd signed in to find information for Stacy, so she thought she'd better have a look round before she left the site for other pages. Taking a moment to consider where to go first, she moved the mouse over the hyperlink marked "Movies." No reason why she couldn't have a little fun of her own while she was here. She clicked the left mouse button.
The next page to appear was a list of sentences highlighted as hypertext links. Each sentence gave a brief description about the content of the movie it was linking to. Amber selected an option that was about three or four lines down in the list, and waited as the media player opened and the file began to download. After only a few seconds, a movie window opened, and Amber sat back in her seat to watch. It was the scene that Stacy had already seen at the end of her introductory session at the clinic the day before, but Amber was not aware of this. She watched the image of the young girl masturbating in a state of minor arousal, absently slipping her hand into her pyjama trousers and rubbing at her pussy lips. The scene changed to show the 18-year-old's spontaneous orgasm and Amber jumped up, sitting forward in her seat and staring at the young woman in amazement. When it reached the part where the girl was staring at the camera and panting heavily, excited moans escaping from her, Amber found herself frantically rubbing at her pussy and pinching her clit. She was desperately trying to reach a level of excitement equal to the girl on the video before the scene finished. By the time the screen went blank, Amber had most of her hand inside her pussy, and was desperately trying to reach her third orgasm. Removing her wet hand from her dripping pussy, she wiped it on the leg of her pyjamas so she could shut down her computer, then went into the bathroom where she stripped off her wet trousers and peeled off her shirt. Switching on the showerhead, she stepped under the stream of hot, steaming water and rubbed her hands over her firm, young breasts and belly as the spray began to hit her highly aroused body.
***
The 11am bell rang, indicating the end of the maths lesson, and Phillip began to pack his books and pens away into his bag. Getting up from his chair and slinging the bag over his shoulder, he followed the rest of his classmates out of the classroom and down the corridor. Upon reaching the first junction, some of the students turned left while the others turned right, each heading to their next lesson, whatever they had chosen for their humanities subject at the end of their GCSE studies. Phillip had chosen history, and was making his way towards the stairs that led up to the History rooms on the first floor of the building. Some of the students were already there, including Jessica Denton, his best friend and also the girl he'd had a crush on since starting at Wayland County Grammar School seven years ago. Despite the long years he had known her, he still hadn't found the courage to tell her how he felt about her. He stood watching her for a few moments from down the corridor, as she talked and laughed with some of her other friends, her books clutched to her breasts. He looked at the way her breasts swelled under her sweatshirt, and the shape of her body in the tight, blue denim jeans she was wearing. His cock twitched as he thought about removing those clothes from her. Her arms reaching up so he could pull the sweatshirt over her head. His fingers unfastening the button of her jeans and pulling down the zip, so his hand could slip inside and explore the warmth of her pussy. He shook his head in an attempt to expel the images rising in his head, and walked towards her.
