That Girl From Highschool

Another boring day at work. You just landed this job straight out of university, but already it feels like it’s draining your soul.

The train station is almost deserted. Night air hangs heavy, neon lights buzzing faintly overhead.

You head for a bench, but stop short when you see her. A girl about your age—short blue hair, a few tattoos, piercings glinting in the dim light. Skirt and crop top blouse a bit too small. She’s daring, but not over the top.

You consider sitting next to her, maybe striking up a conversation. Maybe even trying your luck. But instead, you chicken out, dropping onto a bench a few seats away.
What are you even thinking? She’s way out of your league.

“Hey. Is that you?”

Your head snaps up. The pretty alt girl is standing right in front of you, eyes lit with curiosity.

“It’s me, don’t you remember? The girl from high school.”

At first, your memory draws a blank. But then it clicks. You do remember. She looked nothing like this back then—quiet, awkward, hidden behind long hair and baggy sweaters. Now you’re staring at short blue hair, bold makeup, curves wrapped in a tiny skirt. She really leveled up.

“Can I sit here?” she asks.

You stumble over an apology for taking space, but she slides down beside you anyway. The bench has room, yet she sits close. Close enough to make your skin buzz.

“How’ve you been? You’re coming from work?” she asks.

You tell her where you’re employed.

Her brows lift. “That’s impressive. I heard they pay well.”

You counter that all you must do in return is give them your time and your soul.

She laughs. “Yeah, nobody gives out money for free.”

The train screeches in. You stand, but she stays seated.

You ask if she’s waiting for some different train.

“No, no—I’m taking this one too.” She hops up, almost too quickly.

You board together, sliding into seats as the train rattles to life.

You ask if she’s kept in touch with anyone from school.

“Like who?” She laughs bitterly. “No one liked me anyway.” Then her eyes soften, her lips tugging at a smile. “Well… almost no one.”

Memories surface. She wasn’t popular, and you avoided talking to her too much in public. But whenever you found space, you actually liked her. She’d been someone you could talk to. Someone real.

“Hey—where do you get off?” she asks suddenly.

You tell her.

Her lips curl into a bold smile. “What do you know. Me too.”

The conversation halts as the conductor steps in from behind you. You hand over your ticket, but she doesn’t have one.

“One to the next station,” she says casually.

You frown, surprised. Buying onboard costs extra. Why wouldn’t she just get a ticket beforehand? But before you can think too hard, she shrugs it off, eyes fixed on you.

She looks down at the floor, her voice softer now. “Anyway… I never really thanked you. I had such a tough time back then, and you… you made me smile. You made me laugh. You made each day bearable.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t know what to say, so you just look away and mumble a thank you.

She notices the blush spreading across your face and smiles warmly.

Soon, the train screeches to a stop. Your stop. You both step off and head out into the cool night.

You ask where she lives so you can walk her home.

She hesitates. “Here’s the truth… I don’t live here.” Her voice is guilty, almost apologetic.

You blink. Why didn’t she take her train?

“I just… I didn’t want to leave before talking to you.”

You sigh, checking the clock. Too late. No more trains until morning.

“Could I crash at your place?” she asks timidly, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

What choice do you have? You nod, and lead the way.

At your apartment, you open the door and let her in.

You offer something to drink.

“Tea would be nice, thanks.” She slips off her shoes and curls up on the couch, looking smaller now, almost delicate.

“I forgot to ask…” Her eyes widen with sudden worry. “Is your girlfriend okay with this?”

You shake your head. “I live alone.”

“Really? Not even a pet?” she teases, sounding genuinely surprised.

You bring her the tea and she smiles, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. “I have a cat at home. Honestly, I can’t imagine living alone without her brightening the place.”

You chuckle, admitting you wish you had someone to come home to after work.

She sets the cup down, takes a deep breath, then suddenly slides onto your lap, her hands resting on your shoulders. Her voice is a shy murmur. “You know… that could be me.”

You’re speechless.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so forward. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Her eyes glisten, like she’s close to tears. “I always liked you. I guess… I guess it was just one-sided.”

She shifts to get off, but you stop her, holding her waist. The truth is, maybe you never saw her as a woman back then. But things have changed. You’ve both changed. And looking at her now—gorgeous, daring, vulnerable—you can’t deny how glad you are this night happened.

You lean in, closing the space, kissing her softly at first. Her lips are unsure, but full of passion.

She’s stiff, inexperienced, so you guide her body gently with your hands, pressing her closer until she begins to move against you.

Your hands slip beneath her top, brushing her bare skin, circling her nipples with your thumbs until her quiet gasps betray how much she’s feeling it.

Her reactions stoke your hunger. You slide your hand beneath her panties, finding her already soaked. But she suddenly tenses, catching your wrist.

“Wait,” she whispers nervously. “I’ve… never done it before.”

You freeze, surprised. She looks like the kind of girl guys would line up for.

“Thanks… I just never felt comfortable with all the new attention I was getting.” She tucks a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “Most guys probably thought I wasn’t interested.”

You reassure her, promising to be patient, to be considerate.

“Okay,” she breathes, laughing nervously. Her hand slides down your stomach, trembling, until it finds its way into your pants.

Her fingers wrap around your cock, stroking gently. You groan and return the favor, teasing her folds until she’s squirming.

It becomes a loop—she strokes harder, so you do the same. You press deeper, she quickens her pace. Every time one of you escalates, the other follows suit. The rhythm builds, both of you breathless, feeding off each other.

You’re both moaning into each other’s mouths like animals in heat.

Finally, she tugs your pants down. Her short skirt rides up easily, leaving no barrier. With shaky courage, she guides your cock to her entrance.

The tip presses in, stretching her tightness. “Fu-uck… is it supposed to be this hard?” she gasps nervously.

She lowers herself slowly, barely stroking your tip with her slick folds. She even reaches a hand down, feeling. “What? How am I only at the tip?”

You reassure her, telling her to take her time, to go at her own pace.

But she shakes her head. “No. I think I’ll need a little push… like bungee jumping.”

You smirk, grip her hips, and ease her down. She grits her teeth, nails digging into your chest as you press deeper and deeper—until finally, you’re all the way inside.

Her pussy is unbelievably tight, squeezing you like a vise.

“Wait—just give me a second,” she pants, determination flickering in her eyes. It’s cute. Sexy, even.

You guide her carefully, rolling her hips, pushing her boundaries without overwhelming her. She trembles, torn between discomfort and curiosity—until slowly, the pain melts into pleasure. Her breaths change. Her moans deepen.

“So this is how it feels…” she murmurs, biting her lip. Then her eyes light up with excitement. “It’s fucking awesome.”

She looks at you like a kid discovering a new toy, her body starting to ride with eagerness. Seeing her lose herself drives you crazy.

You grip her waist, lift her, and roll her onto the couch, laying her on her back.

“What are you—?” she starts, but then you slide back inside at an upward angle and thrust slowly, steady but deep.

“Shi-it… that feels good,” she moans, arching her back.

You peel off her top, freeing her breasts, and capture her nipples with your mouth, sucking until she writhes beneath you.

“I feel jealous,” she whispers breathlessly, “of the girls who got to experience this before me.”

You can’t help but grin. Your younger self would be burning with envy—here you are, taking the virginity of one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen. The thought fuels you, and you start thrusting harder, deeper.

“Mhm… I feel weird,” she gasps, her voice trembling.

You know exactly what that means. You pick up the pace. She clutches your abs, helping guide your movements as her legs quake. Then her body seizes, and she screams into your shoulder, climaxing hard.

You pull out for a moment, wanting to admire her, the way she’s gasping, eyes wide.
“I think I just came,” she admits breathlessly.

You tell her to turn over.

Even without experience, she knows what position you’re asking for. She rolls onto her knees, presenting herself. Her form is awkward, unsure—but her ass jiggles just right, and the sight alone makes you ache.

You sink your fingers into her cheeks, spread her wide, and slide back into her dripping pussy.

The moment you start thrusting, her ass bounces with each stroke. The sight makes you feral. You’re already on the edge, and the thought of losing control drives you to hammer her harder, faster, each slap of skin echoing through the room.

She buries her face in the pillow, moaning helplessly, ass raised high exactly how you wanted it.

You can’t hold back any longer. You pull out, stroke yourself a few quick times, and erupt—thick ropes splattering across her perfect ass cheeks, streaks painting her lower back.

“Mhm… do guys usually cum this much?” she peeks up from the pillow like an ostrich pulling its head from the sand.

Of course not. You’ve never unloaded like this in your life—but then again, you’ve never had a fuck like this, not after such a long, rough day.

“I should probably clean this up,” she says, climbing off the couch. “Where’s the shower?”

You point her toward the bathroom. She heads off, but pauses at the door, turning with a shy smirk. “…Do you want to join me?”

Water steams in the shower as she steps under the stream, washing her ass slowly, deliberately, knowing you’re watching. “You made quite the mess,” she teases, sliding her hand over her cheeks, rubbing the cum across her skin before rinsing it away. The sight makes your cock stiffen again instantly.

“Can you clean my back for me?” she asks innocently.

You step in behind her, running your hands over her shoulders, her spine, carefully wiping away what you left. But your cock betrays you, rising again, pressing against her slick ass.

“Whoa—you’re excited again?” she laughs, half surprised.

As if she doesn’t realize the effect she has. No man could stay soft washing his own seed off her flawless, wet body.

“Well…” she turns, dropping to her knees in front of you. “I still haven’t tried one thing.”

You already know what she means. She takes you into her mouth, lips wrapping tight.

You’ve had head before—better technique, more skill. But with her? It doesn’t matter. Her pretty face, her soft moans, her eagerness—they make up for everything.

You murmur for her to use her tongue, and she obeys, swirling and licking. It feels so good you don’t even realize your fingers are tangled in her short blue hair, guiding her, bobbing her head to your rhythm.

She gags around your cock, and only then do you release her, stroking her cheek and asking if she’s okay.

She nods, grinning. “Of course. I think it made me wet.”

You haul her up, spin her around, and bend her over. She braces herself against the wall as you drop to your knees behind her.

Spreading her ass, you bury your face between her legs. Her pussy is dripping, tasting as sweet as she smells. You devour her like a starving man, tongue flicking, lips sucking.

She moans into the tiles, the sounds echoing in the shower, driving you insane. Precum leaks from your tip just from eating her out, your cock throbbing hard.

“You really know what you’re doing,” she gasps, legs trembling. “I think I’m cumming again—”

Her body shudders, grinding against your mouth as she crashes into another orgasm, the sound of her cries bouncing off the walls.

Your tongue works faster, pushing her higher and higher until her whole body shakes. She cries out as the orgasm rips through her, her legs buckling—yet she doesn’t fall. Instead, she collapses onto your face, straddling you, riding out the climax while you devour her. A man’s dream.

Your cock throbs painfully, on the edge. You rise to your feet, grabbing her waist, and turn her around. You hook one of her legs over your shoulder. She’s surprisingly flexible, holding the pose.

You slide back inside, lifting her ass, bouncing her up and down on your cock.

Your eyes meet—hot steam wrapping around you both—lust painted across your faces. Breathing hard, sweating, you crash your mouth to hers. The kiss is messy, desperate, all tongue and teeth.

You thrust faster, harder, the slapping sounds echoing through the bathroom along with your raw, animal moans. Neighbors be damned—you’ve got her right here, and you’re not holding back.

The itch of release becomes unbearable. You growl in her ear, order her down, and she obeys instantly, dropping to her knees.

She looks up, eyes wide, mouth open slightly in anticipation. You stroke yourself furiously, and with a grunt, you explode across her pretty face. The load is smaller than before, but still enough to cover her cheeks, her lips, her forehead in sticky streaks.

She giggles, licking a drop from her lips. “Guess I have to wash my hair now too.”

Morning light filters into the room. You wake with her curled in your arms, her face peaceful, soft. She looks so damn cute asleep you can’t help brushing her hair back, just to see her better.

Her eyes blink open slowly. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

You smile. Best sleep of your life.

“Me too.” She hesitates, then bites her lip nervously. “But… I was wondering. Can I be your girlfriend? I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing. I really like you—on a personal level, and—”

Honestly, you stopped listening after the gf word. Somewhere in her ramble, you mutter a quiet but certain, “Yes.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

You assure her you mean it.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, hugging you tight. So tight that your morning wood presses firmly against her. She notices immediately, pulling back with a sly grin.

“Oh… is that morning wood?” Her hand slips down, wrapping around your shaft. “Well… since I’m your girlfriend now, I guess I’ll be the one taking care of that from now on.”