New Girl

I was the new girl in the school and as far as I was concerned Lawndale was the pits. It was bad enough that I had to transfer in halfway through my final year, but then I find that Lawndale didn't have an accelerated path for gifted students. So there I was, lumped in with everyone else. That was OK for most of the classes but it was a real pain in the posterior for science and mathematics. I was so far ahead of the rest of the class I could have been teaching it.

Even that irritation was minor compared to the other irritation they wanted me to go through. They call it PE. I call it boob bounce. When I was enrolled I politely informed the school that PE was an optional subject and I was opting not to take it. They rudely informed me that the headmistress was a PE fanatic and insisted everyone attend PE.

So there I was, in the change-room on a Friday afternoon, getting changed to attend my first PE session. I took my time getting changed. Quite simply, I wanted to be the last one out of the room. Being the new girl has its advantages, I guess. The main one being that I had no friends there as of yet and that the teachers didn't know me and wouldn't miss me if I didn't show up for a specific class.

The last of the girls vanished out the door and I reluctantly got up off my blot to follow. I took one last look in one of the mirrors, regarding myself in that silly PE uniform. OK, the shorts weren't too bad, but I was full hipped, and they did tend to highlight that fact. The top was another matter entirely.

I'm not saying that I have an overlarge bust. I will admit, however, to being well-endowed. This was rather noticeable in the approved PE top. The top was maybe a little strained where it crossed my bosom. I gave a little bounce and found that the approved sports bra didn't stand up to either the advertised benefits or my bouncing breasts. I mean, one little bounce and my breasts were rolling all over the place. Doing serious exercise outside, where people could see me, in this outfit? Not on your life. I sat my butt firmly down on the nearest bench. The only way they would get me on the PE field was by carrying me, kicking and screaming.

I'd gone back to my locker and started pulling the top out of my shorts, preparing to get changed back into my regular clothes, when there was a discrete cough and someone spoke to me. This rather startled me. Not because someone spoke. After all, it was a change room and girls could be expected to be in and out at various times. The cause of the surprise was that the voice was quite a deep baritone, and no girls I knew spoke in a baritone.

"Katarina, isn't it?" this voice said and I stood up and turned to face the intruder.

"Ah, yes," I admitted. "They call me Kat. Who are you and what are you doing in the girls change room?"

Of the double question I was more interested in knowing who this guy was. He was a senior student, that was for sure, quite easily eighteen, the same age as me. He was also rather tall, being six foot plus. So what, you say? Six foot plus is quite reasonable for a male of eighteen. This is true, but at first glance he also looked six foot wide. Second glance reassured me. He was probably no more than three foot across at the shoulders. It was his sheer presence that gave the impression of vast size.

"I'm Carl," he told me, not mentioning why he was actually there.

"Let me guess. You're the star of the football team and have come to pay your respects to the new girl."

"Not exactly. The coach kicked me off the team. According to him, football-wise, I'm just a useless slab of muscle."

"You're kidding. I thought coaches rejoiced in having people your size in the team."

"Normally they do. When the coach first saw me he said I was like a walking brick wall and would be invaluable to the team. After seeing me play he told me he'd rather have the brick wall in the team because it would probably move faster than me."

You can't run?"

"I can run. Quite fast, too. Once I get started. It takes me a while to build up speed and I can only go in a straight line. If I try to turn I'm liable to break an ankle. The guys he was testing me against were waiting until I was nearly on them and then taking a couple of steps to the side and waving as I charged past. The coach was tearing his hair and swearing something chronic."

"OK, so no football. Let me guess. You switched to the wrestling team."

"Sorry, Kat, but wrong again. I joined the computer club and the chess club. I'm the current reigning champion of the chess club."

Chess? A great slab of beef like that and he plays chess? Well, it takes all sorts.

"I guess I'll have to join the chess club and see just how good you are. Maybe it's time for a new champion. Um, you still haven't mentioned why you're in the girls changing room."

"You guessed that earlier. I noticed that you didn't come out with the rest of the class and I figured you'd decided to skulk in here instead of doing PE. Not that I blame you. Anyway, I came in to pay my respects to the new girl and give you a friendly bonk as my way of saying welcome to Lawndale."

"Well, thank you, but you still shouldn't have come into. . ."

My voice trailed off as what he said actually registered. I shook my head, not believing it. He couldn't have said that.

"Ah, excuse me, but what did you say? I'm afraid I must have misheard it."

"No worries. I said that I'd come in to pay my respects and to welcome you to Lawndale."

Right. I knew I'd misheard. Stupid of me.

"With a nice friendly bonk," he added.

OOKK, so maybe I hadn't misheard.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said. "I'm sure it's kind of you to offer but I think I'll pass on that. Now if you'll excuse me I want to get changed."

"Don't mind me. Go right ahead. If you're worried about me being here, don't be. I won't jump you until you're completely naked."

Jump me when I'm naked indeed! I had no intention of getting naked with him standing there. Actually, I had no need to get naked at all. I was just changing my outer clothes. Oh, and my bra. That sports one was useless.

"Not going to happen. Now go away."

I stood there and looked at him and he leaned back against the wall and looked at me, smiling, blast him.

"Right," I said, and calmly took off my top, folded it and put it in my locker. I took out my bra. My intention was to turn my back to him, peel off the sports bra and put on my normal one. All he would see was my back. It turned out there were two problems with this scenario. First, I wouldn't be able to see him and so I wouldn't know if he was just watching or was actually approaching. The second, and more serious problem, was that I just didn't have the nerve to do it.

"Will you go away?" I demanded. "I want to finish getting changed."

"I'll tell you what," he said. "You take off your current bra so that I can have a good view of what appears to be a magnificent pair of breasts and I'll go away quietly."

"Fine!" I snapped and reached for my bra. So what if he saw my breasts. My nerve hadn't improved at all. I couldn't do it.

"I'll help you," he said quietly, moving casually towards me. Yeah, casually like a panther approaching its prey.

He took hold of my bra and started lifting.

"Come on," he murmured. "Arms up. You can't put on your proper bra until this one's gone. Don't you want to get rid of me?"

Seeing he was already pulling it up and my breasts were about to pop out I didn't see that I really had much choice. I suppose I could have attacked him and driven him off. I could see myself doing that, right after the pigs stopped flying around. I reluctantly lifted my arms and my sports bra was one with history.

I immediately crossed my arms over my breasts. He immediately took hold of my wrists and removed my arms, taking a good look.

"Just as nice as I thought," he told me. "The big question now is will they or won't they?"

"What?" What the hell did he expect them to do? Dance?

"Will your nipples come erect without me touching them or not?"

Oh my god. I'd have said not up until he said that. Now I was suddenly really aware of my nipples and they reacted, standing out like little soldiers. I could feel my face burning. It got even hotter when he carefully touched each nipple, just gently pressing them in turn.

"All right, you've seen my breasts. Now do what you promised and go away quietly."

"That wasn't the deal," he said.

"Yes, it was," I insisted. "I take off my bra and show my breasts and you'd GO AWAY!"

"But you didn't take off your bra. I had to do it, so that doesn't count."

"Semantics," I scoffed. "You've seen them, so leave."

"Semantics count. Ask any lawyer. You didn't hold up your end of the bargain so I don't have to leave."

"Whatever," I said, reaching for my bra.

The rotten sod grabbed it before I could, moving it out of my reach.

"What are you playing at? Give that back."

"Just as soon as you take your shorts off."

"Not happening. Not going to do it."

He shrugged and tossed the bra onto the bench a little out of reach. Before I could take a step towards it I found him undoing my shorts.

"Cut it out," I snapped at him, grabbing for them. "I said I wasn't taking them off."

"I know. I heard you and I believe you. That's why I'm taking them down. They have to come off anyway, you know. It's not as though you're going to wear them under your regular clothes."

Maybe not, but I could damn well remove them after I'd put on my regular clothes. Not that it mattered now as Carl was already pulling them down.

I stood there glowering at him while he peeled them off, stepping out of them when they reached my ankles. I should have paid more attention when he started pulling them down. A lot more attention.

"You know I said I wouldn't jump you until you were completely naked?"

"Don't bother. I'm not taking my panties off."

"Um, you mean those panties?"

I looked where he was pointing and found he'd taken my panties off along with my shorts. In my own defence, I hadn't looked to see what he was taking down. I'd just assumed that the material I felt was my shorts. My face was all hot and embarrassed looking again and he was laughing.

Then he wasn't laughing and his hands were on my bottom, pulling me hard against him.

"Time to show you how welcome you are at Lawndale," he whispered, his hands running all over my bottom.

With that he let me go and took a step back, deliberately looking me up and down, showing he liked what he saw. I was busy telling him what wasn't going to happen and then saw that he was undoing his trousers and dropping them. It seemed he intended to give me a very large welcome to Lawndale.

Now it was a case of oh-my-god. Up until that moment I hadn't really thought that he would seriously try and fuck me. I thought it was typical male self-aggrandisement, all talk but with no follow through. It's rather hard to tell yourself that when you find that you're naked and there's a rather large erection pointing at you.

"You're serious about this," I said with a slight gasp. "How can you possibly expect to be able to just walk in here and expect me to let you make love to me? It's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous or not, it's going to happen," he said with a wicked smile. "In a moment I'm going to lay you on that bench and take you."

"But why?" How could he do this? It was beyond me.

"Why? Because I think you're the sort of girl who will want to see her lover's face the first time he takes her. I'll have you bend over and take you from behind another time, but for our first time. . ."

His voice just trailed away and he was pushing me gently down onto the bench.

"I didn't mean why this way?" I protested. "I meant why are you doing this?"

"Ah, because I want to? And you want me to. I noticed you didn't put any real effort into trying to fight me off."

By now I was lying flat on my back and he'd pushed one of my legs off the bench so I was wide open to him. No real effort into fighting him off? What did he expect? I hadn't thought for one moment that he was serious. I mean, who would?

It was far too late to think of fighting now. He was kneeling on the bench, leaning forward, coming down on top of me. One hand was on my breast while the other was down feeling around my pussy. Positioning himself I realised as I felt his cock starting to press against me.

Then both his hands were on my breasts and he was watching me and I could feel his cock starting to slide into me. I just stared back at him, stunned, lying there while he kept going deeper, forcing my passage to take him. I was wet, I found to my surprise, and his cock pressing into me was making me even wetter. He gave a last push and just like that he was sheathed inside me, eyes watching me, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"You have magnificent breasts," he murmured, his hands caressing them.

At the same time I could feel him pulling back, preparing to come into me again. I guess it was automatic on my part. He came pushing quickly into me again and I found myself lifting my hips to meet him. His smile grew wider and his movements grew faster.

Just like that I was being well and truly fucked; at school, in the girl's change room of all places. All I could do was look at him while his cock was being thrust into me hard and fast and often. Well, looking wasn't all I was doing and using his cock wasn't all that he was doing. I have to admit that I was lifting my hips and pushing up to meet him as his cock came plunging into me, while his hands were all over my breasts, stroking and massaging them.

I was writhing slightly as excitement started to build. I guess it was a case if there was no help for it then go for it. He was fucking me good and proper and I have to admit that I was fucking back just as hard. And enjoying it. Carl knew just what he was doing, his cock raising little explosions of excitement deep inside me, each little thrill being a bit more than the one before. At the same time his teasing of my sensitive breasts and nipples were sending additional little frissons of pleasure through me.

And all the time this was going on I was staring into his eyes. I had this feeling that as long as he was looking at me, and I was looking at him, everything was all right. I was afraid to tear my eyes away in case I was silly and panicked or screamed or something.

The pleasure kept building and I was losing it. Slowly but surely I found I couldn't look at Carl anymore. My eyes were closed and I was turning inwards, just feeling the pleasure he was giving me. It kept on coming and I could feel a strange pressure building up inside me. Not all that strange, I guess. I knew what it presaged and I welcomed it, clinging ever tighter to him as my hips worked overtime, welcoming him deep within me.

That building pressure suddenly exploded through me, tearing me apart in a welcome climax. I could hear Carl groaning, knowing he was having his own climax, but that was a minor affair. Everyone knows that a girl's climax is the main thing. Boys are simply finding a mild release.

I stayed lying on the bench for a few moments, trying my hardest not to smile. Carl was smiling, damn him, looking unbelievably smug. Didn't he know he'd just raped me? From the look on his face, probably not. Men can be so dense at times.

"You're lucky, you know," he told me.

I'm like, "What? You're kidding me?"

"No, seriously," he said. "Just look. You're already in the girl's change-room and you'll be able to have your shower before the rest of the girls come traipsing in and wanting one. You can take as much hot water as you like."

With that he dropped a quick kiss on my lips and departed. I shrugged and admitted that he'd had at least one good idea. I headed for the showers. I also wondered, was he serious about a second time? Bending me over somewhere and taking me from behind? If so, how did I go about preventing it? Did I want to prevent it? If I decided not to prevent it did I cooperate or make him force me? It's hard when you have to make this kind of decision.