Essentially an English telling, Carla's tale will not appeal to everyone. That said, for those with a taste for exhibitionism, voyeurism, dressing-up, and the downright rude, perhaps Carla may have something up her sleeve – er, skirt. Her story endeavours to balance plot, pace and imagery with an occasionally despicable eroticism, designed to titillate and entertain. I hope Carla is for you.
D.L.
All characters are eighteen or older.
Saturday night - actually, it was now early Sunday morning, just after midnight. A cold December night air greeted me with an audible rush as I exited through the automatic doorway of the motorway café. Buttoning my raincoat against the biting winter chill, I hastily made my way between the parked vehicles. Another hour and I would be home.
As I sat in my car, cranking-up the heater, my mobile buzzed in my coat pocket. I read the caller name with curiosity: 'Carla'. I recalled exchanging phone numbers with my friends' daughter a few months earlier.
I answered, 'Hi, Carla'.
She apologised for calling so late, explaining that she knew I had a reputation as a night owl, and could I help her? She was at a party, somewhere out in the countryside and her friend had left her stranded there. She had no money or credit cards, so could I pick her up?
She finished, 'Oh, and please don't mention this to my dad ... I know he'd only worry about me...'
'No problem, Carla ... text me the address and I'll come and get you.'
'Oh, thanks so much ... just call me when you're outside the party and I'll come out.'
While I waited for her to send me the address, my mind began to wander. Even as I spoke to her, I had pictured Carla wearing one of her sexy miniskirts, and my free hand had instinctively moved to my crotch. She was past the age of so-and-so now, and I needn't feel guilty over fantasizing about her.
Carla is such a pretty girl – slim and sexy, with long straight auburn hair and stunning green eyes. With her long legs, she is almost as tall as me, now. Last year at her mum's birthday party, Carla had caught me looking up her miniskirt, but pretended not to notice. Sitting on the sofa opposite me, she had casually let her knees drift apart, affording me a wonderful view of her powder-pink girly knickers. Later that evening, she asked me to slow-dance, and I deliberately let her feel my erection through my trousers; flexing my stiff cock against her short skirt.
Finally, Carla's text came through and I punched the address into my cars' sat-nav. I was pleasantly surprised to note that the house was a mere six miles away!
Taking the next motorway exit, I soon found myself negotiating winding English country lanes. Since receiving her call, I had been fantasizing about Carla. She often wore miniskirts, and I hoped she would be wearing one tonight. I imagined her sitting next to me in the passenger seat of my car, letting her skirt ride high up her thighs, perhaps teasing me with a naughty glimpse of her knickers.
According to my sat-nav girl, Jane, I was still a few minutes away from the party. Steering the car with one hand on the wheel, I reached down and unbuttoned my jeans. Freeing my erection, I began to stroke my cock, thinking of sexy young Carla. The lanes were dark and deserted, so I felt safe enough.
Turning into a long tree-lined road, my headlights picked out two figures walking towards me in the distance. As I drew nearer, I saw that they were a young couple, their arms around each others' waists, both dressed in school uniforms. My eyes were immediately drawn to the girls' short pleated skirt. I slowed the car to look at her legs, and masturbated as I drove by. The moment was over far too soon, and in my rear view mirror, the two figures quickly melted into the darkness.
Jane announced: 'You have reached your destination'.
Hastily buttoning my jeans over my erection, I pulled into the cobblestone yard of a sprawling old single-story farmhouse. A bright half-moon illuminated the crisp winter night in silver-grey monotones. The thatched, ivy-covered residence appeared to be in total darkness.
Although Carla had asked me to call her mobile upon my arrival, I had already decided that I would 'forget' her instruction. She would not expect me so soon. Besides, if those teens I had just passed in the lane were typical of the party guests, I was going inside to take a peek!
As I approached the slightly ajar front door, I could hear pounding Drum and Bass music emanating from deep within the large house. The heavy oak door yielded to my touch, swinging inwards to reveal a long dark entrance hall. Gnarled wooden beams framed the walls and ceiling the length of the corridor, and I noticed that the light bulbs had been removed from the hall lamps.
Closing the door behind me, I walked towards the music at the far end of the hallway. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I determined two shadowy silhouettes framed in the open doorway ahead. I was almost upon them before being struck by the happy realization that the figures were those of two girls, both in their late teens and dressed in sexy school uniforms.
This was the entrance to the main party. A thick, sticky warmth permeated the air and the music was loud; heavy subsonic bass frequencies vibrating through the old wooden floorboards. I leaned towards one of the girls, speaking close to her ear so she could hear my voice above the music, 'Hello ... I'm here to pick-up Carla'.
The girl pulled back slightly, 'She's here somewhere ... you won't tell my dad I was at this party, will you?'
It was only then that I recognized the girl – a friend of Carla's. Her panda eye makeup and Mary Quant hairstyle was reminiscent of a swinging sixties era
dollybird
. Carla seemed to be surrounded by sexy friends.
I smiled, 'Don't tell your dad? ...Why not? ...What kind of a party is this?'
'It's called a School Disco. My parents would disown me if...'
I surmised the girl to be genuinely concerned that I should keep her secret. A single word sprang into my mind in big bold red letters: 'Blackmail!'
Leaning forward to reply, I placed my hand gently on the back of the girl's slim waist, 'It's okay, I won't tell anyone you were here ... is this a sex party, Janie?'
Yes! I had remembered her name - even better!
She appeared slightly embarrassed, offering a stuttering reply, 'It's not a sex party ... well,
not really
...some people ... um ... like to dress-up in their old school uniforms ... and, er...'
My cheek was next to hers. I could smell her musky perfume and feel her body heat, 'Don't worry Janie, I'll never tell your parents ... or anyone...'
As I spoke I slid my hand down her back, gently feeling her small bottom through her pleated miniskirt. My cock was fully erect again, straining inside my jeans.
'I'll find Carla for you,' Janie offered helpfully.
I pulled away from the girl, 'No, it's okay, thanks Janie – I'll find her'.
Squeezing between the two girls, I entered the party. The room was dark, hot, and very crowded, its atmosphere imbued with a palpable steamy sexuality. I was glad of the intense darkness; dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and still wearing my raincoat, I would have stood out like a beacon in the sea of school uniforms.
Before me was a gyrating mass of sweaty bodies; male and female, crushed together in a writhing sexual dance. At the tainted heart of this unholy gathering was a heaving pagan lust – like some lascivious pornographic adaptation of a Dennis Wheatley novel.
Carla was here somewhere. Pushing my way through the crowd of tightly packed bodies reminded me of rush hour on the London Underground. The heavy darkness emboldened me. As I squeezed through the voodoo-entranced dancers, I allowed my trailing hands to brush sexy pleated school skirts, once feeling beneath a short hem to briefly caress the warm bare legs of one of the girls. Finding myself face to face with a pretty teen, I pressed my erection against her crotch, gripping her buttocks with both hands and grinding sexually against her, before disappearing deeper into the crowd.
To my left, I discovered a passageway leading off the main room. Freeing myself from the seething aggregation, I entered the narrow hallway, feeling my way along the wall like a bind man in the darkness. I passed a door on the left side, before reaching an empty room at the far end.
Returning back along the passage, I opened the first door, now to my right. The air in the room was hot and stale; musty with sweat. There were people inside ... young men - perhaps seven or eight of them, all dressed in the
de rigueur
school uniforms. The men were seated on chairs and stools around a medieval-looking four-poster double bed.
Balanced on a tall chest of drawers just inside the doorway was a flashlight emitting a weak beam of faltering yellowish light towards the bed, upon which two girls dressed in school uniforms danced provocatively. Running their hands over their sexy young bodies, they teasingly lifted their short pleated skirts for the sexual pleasure of the onlookers. I did not know the blonde girl, but immediately recognized the other dancer to be Carla.
I watched the erotic show from my discrete location in the doorway, knowing that Carla would not see me, hidden as I was, in the darkness behind the makeshift stage light. To my left, in the larger room beyond the passageway, the debauched party raged on, but my attention was now focused entirely upon Carla; her dance, hypnotically compelling and sexually charged, driven by a lustful primal abandonment.
Both girls were wearing classic English school uniforms: a white blouse and school tie with short navy-blue pleated skirts, white knee length socks and white cotton knickers.
As they gyrated to the music, the girls slowly lifted their sexy little pleated skirts to the upturned faces of the captivated young men. The blonde, wearing a wicked smile, raised the front of her navy-blue pleated skirt and inserted her hand down the front of her white knickers, rudely enacting an exaggerated display of sexual self-pleasure before her enraptured male audience.
I noticed that a young man seated towards the back of the room had started to masturbate. From her high vantage point on the bed, the blonde dancer spied his lewd sexual act, and made a
wanking
gesture towards him. Standing with her legs wide apart, she held up the front of her skirt and thrust her hips repeatedly in his direction.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I released my stiff cock. Burying my left hand in the pocket of my raincoat, I held the open flap across my chest, thereby concealing my actions. Pushing my jeans down a few inches, I masturbated voyeuristically to Carla and her friend. Carla has the sexiest legs, and I longed to fuck her up her naughty school skirt.
