He took off her clothes, they were the ones she had arrived in, but now she didn’t wear underwear. The jeans hung loosely and the shirt didn’t hid... her breasts. At fifteen, they didn’t need support really. She had arrived with a backpack with five pairs of knickers, three pairs of socks, two teeshirts and no change of trousers. Her panties were all washed and neatly folded, as were her sister’s, her socks were in pairs, clean and waiting for the day when bare feet were not allowed again. And. I started fantasizing about Andre, could he be as big as those men in the magazine? Were the things I read about their stamina true. I was obsessed and my mind drifted to thoughts I could no longer control. I started dressing a little more provocatively, shorter tighter skirts, heels, a little more cleavage. Everyday Andre would come around or I would see him in the hallways by the canteen and eventually he struck up a conversation. I was so nervous I was trembling and I couldn't hide it. It. More

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