Magdalena

This is going to sound weird, and here at the outset of writing it all down I'm still not sure how to record it. Maybe it's best to say right at the beginning that this is the story of how I fucked a women on separate occasions twenty years apart - once when she was an eighteen-year-old schoolgirl on a summer English language course and I was a supervisor at the summer school, and again twenty years later when she was a married woman of thirty-eight whom I contacted out of the blue via a social media website.

If that spoils the surprise let me assure you that I haven't ruined anything. Magdalena was one of those experiences I keep returning to in my memory, and who knows, perhaps there is yet a further chapter or two waiting to be written in the future?

In 1996 I was thirty-three and found myself between contracts. My home town on the south coast of England was the base for a large number of language schools, and like most young men who lived there I had spent many a summer ogling the French, Spanish, Italian and German girls who visited each July and August for about two or three weeks - ostensibly to brush up their English but whose antics at our two local nightclubs (Divas and The Devil's Club) were the prime source of their collective reputation. It was to these language schools - and particularly the Language Palace, the biggest of them, that I now turned my attention. They were looking for activities leaders and the money was actually fairly good. If I was successful in my job application, I'd be getting three hundred pounds a week for pretty much doing little more than making sure our weekly visits to places of interest ran smoothly.

The Language Palace was the closest school to my childhood home. I had grown up watching the annual migration of foreign students arriving for their immersion experience. Sometimes the language experience was not the most noteworthy aspect of these students' stays. There was plenty of casual sex going around too. At seventeen I had lost my virginity to a French girl called Danielle whose unsuspecting French boyfriend was actually waiting for her inside the club while she grabbed me and took me out the back to fuck her behind the stack of drinks crates in the yard at Diva's. Since that summer I had managed a respectable score, and by the time I left town to go to university two hundred miles away I had had sex with girls from every country The Language Palace dealt with.

So although I was now thirty-three, I had a tough time keeping that memory of a wonderfully misspent youth out of my mind during the interview process, and when I got the job the first thing I did was look at the information sheets on the students who would be in my group. When I saw Croatia listed among the nationalities of the expected groups that summer I couldn't help but think that Croatia represented an unknown region for me. When I was growing up there had been no girls from Croatia coming on these courses - indeed, the country hadn't even existed then as an independent state.

Fast forward a few weeks and it was my first day on the job. The new students were coming in and I watched the Croatian group alight from their tour bus. Magdalena was one of those girls you immediately notice. I actually thought she might be the tour group leader when I saw her get off the bus. She was tall, tanned and wore a short white mini skirt and a bright red silk shirt tied up at the waist to show her stomach. She had light brown, almost blonde hair that fell to about halfway down her back. It was only when I saw a much older lady wearing glasses and holding a clipboard getting out of the bus after all the students had disembarked that I realised Magdalena was one of the students. She certainly looked older than her eighteen years, and I felt my gaze being drawn to her as I gave the group the introductory talk. She caught my eye a few times and showed her perfect smile a few times when I made the usual jokes about how we drive on the left and how it was advisable to take your ID to the pub if you looked younger than eighteen.

Within a week the Croatian girls had shown they were no slouches when it came to keeping up with their Western European neighbours. I caught one of the teachers snogging one of the girls during a break one morning. He left embarrassed and the girl, Ana - a nineteen year-old brunette who dressed for class as if she were going out clubbing, simply looked at me as he slunk away and raised an eyebrow. The next day Ana came to my office on the top floor after morning school had broken for lunch. The building was deserted as everyone had gone to either the local pub for lunch or for a walk along the promenade by the sea. Ana had different ideas. She locked the door behind her and walked over to me as I sat in my chair. During the five or six steps she took to get from the door to my chair she took off all her clothes except her panties. She straddled me and threw her arms around my neck and we kissed. I was completely taken by surprise but I felt my cock stiffen and my body seemed to go into auto-response. Within seconds I was pushing my jeans and boxers down my legs and positioning to get my eager and rock hard cock into her cunt. We fucked for about ten minutes until she grunted out her orgasm and then held me by the ass cheeks as if to squeeze my cum into her. I couldn't believe how tight her pussy was. It was like a hand in a velvet glove squeezing my shaft. I ejaculated into her and we held each other as we got our breath back.

Ten minutes later she was dressed again and walking out of my office. I'm sure she had set herself a personal target, and I'm damned sure I was nowhere near the last Englishman to fuck her that week - although I was probably the oldest.

On Wednesday the activity was swimming. Only five students chose that activity and Magdalena was the only girl. This was a surprise as the local aqua centre is actually quite good. For a while in the eighties it had the tallest aqua flumes in Europe, but over the intervening ten years a place in Germany had built a taller one. Still, it was pretty amazing for a smallish seaside city to have this facility, and it was only because the afternoon visit there clashed with a shopping trip to London on the Croatian group's private programme that the numbers of students signed up for swimming was down. Since there were only five students going I took them all in my car. Magdalena rode up front with me and the four boys took the middle and back row of seats and spent the entire time talking about football - and arguing about whether Eric Cantona should have been selected in the French national side for that summer's European Championships. I got to chat to Magdalena and we found areas of common interest enough to make me think she was a genuinely fascinating young woman - not just a hot chick in a pleasingly tight skirt - although she was certainly that too.

It was when she emerged from the changing room in a dark navy bikini that I actually gasped for the first time. She could have been a model. She looked stunning. I kept staring at her stomach. It was flat, lightly tanned and with a navel I could have poured honey into and licked off right there and then. Soon enough she noticed my surreptitious glances and asked me what I was looking at. Luckily, I was able to pass it off as she had a henna tattoo just above her bikini line. I pretended to think it was a real tattoo and asked her about it. She laughed and said no it was just something she had had done a few days ago in London. I told her I had a tattoo and she asked to see it. I said I couldn't show it to her there because it was on my butt and that produced another laugh and another - slightly mischievous smile.

"Yes, I don't think Petr, my boyfriend would want me to be seeing that then, Steve," she said.

I noted the fact and asked her what she wanted to do at the pool.

"I want to go down the aqua flumes, but I'm a little scared. Will you do it to me?" she said

"Do it WITH you," I corrected. "Yes, sure. Let me get changed"

I actually found myself shaking as I went into the cubicles and pulled off my clothes. I had my trunks on already, underneath my jeans, and I was glad of the regular squash games I'd been playing that had kept my body in shape. I looked at myself in the mirror before walking out to the poolside. The Croatian girls were thick as thieves together. There could be no way Magdalena didn't know I'd fucked Ana. It would be all around their common room by now. And here she was virtually naked but for a few inches of coloured cloth asking me to go down the flume with her. It was the perfect cover for a bit of physical. Petr or no Petr, I was going to enjoy this.

I took her hand for the last flight of steps. We were now eighty feet above the water and looking at the long blue plastic tubes that led down to the pool. They were sluiced and the excitement of the other swimmers was palpable. Magdalena looked at me nervously as we approached the step off point.

"How do we do it?" she asked me.

"Easy. You sit down here between my legs and hold on to me. I'll hold you around the waist and I won't let you go."

"You promise?" she said.

"Count on it," I replied, and off we slid.

My cock was hard and was pressed up against her back the whole way down. She grabbed my thighs on either side of her as we shot down, and my hands gripped her waist. We hit the water with enormous force and rolled over into the overflow pool. We surfaced facing each other just a few inches away and she said "That was amazing! Let's do it again."

Driving back home afterwards I was careful to drop off the boys first so we had about five miles to drive alone with Magdalena before I got to the house of the family she was staying with. She was talking about the night clubs in town and I had said that they were fine but the best ones were fifty miles away in London.

Her eyes lit up. "Will you take me?"

"What about Petr?"

"What about him?"

"Wouldn't he object to his girlfriend going on a date with an English stranger?"

"Well, it's not really a date, is it?"

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Well, maybe I don't tell him then!"

"Ah, OK. So it's our hot little secret! I like that."

"Hot?"

"Oh yes, Magdalena. That's certainly the word!"

I took her to the Empire in Leicester Square and we went on to several others from there. She was a good dancer and other guys noticed her and started to circle. She danced with one or two of them, but didn't seem interested in their attempts to strike up a conversation, and we downed a few gin and tonics between dances where I could ask her a bit more about herself. The evening was great and we ended up at two in the morning walking hand in hand down the mall to Buckingham Palace so she could wave to what I assured her was the queen's bedroom window.

I'd parked the car on Waterloo Bridge and at that time in the morning, I knew it would only be an hour or so to get down to the coast. She slept in the car with her head on my shoulder and I didn't wake her until we were at her host family's house.

"I hope you weren't breaking any rules about staying out late tonight, Magdalena," I said.

I was just thinking of this for the first time. It could get awkward if the family wanted to know why a language school employee was taking an eighteen year-old student out for the night - particularly in view of the age difference between us.

"No, they're not here tonight. They're at their place in Wales for the weekend. Want to come in? We won't be disturbing anyone," she replied.

She got out her key and opened the door. I stepped inside with her and she reached for the light switch although the day was already beginning to show in the dawning sky.

"Wait," I said.

Gently, I pushed her against the hallway wall and held her face in my hands. I ran my fingers up through her hair and lightly kissed her on the lips.

"No, Steve," she said. "Don't kiss me. It's not right. I have a boyfriend."

"OK," I said.

I let her go and we walked into the kitchen where she poured some water and two glasses on red wine that looked like it had been re-corked as left over from a family dinner.

"Let me show you a trick with the wine," I said. "Come here and close your eyes."

Magdalena, I had learned, was the curious type. If there was a mystery to something, she really wanted to know. I took a sip of wine and held it in my mouth. I beckoned to her. She brought her face close to mine and I placed my lips against hers and gently channeled the wine into her mouth with my tongue.

"Mmmm, that feels sensible. Is the right word, yes?" she murmured.

"I think the word you mean is sensuous, Magdalena. But you have to swallow it."

"Swallow? Really?" She looked alarmed.

"Trust me. Whatever I put in your mouth, promise me you'll swallow it," I said.

"OK".

She let me take another swig of the wine and I closed my mouth over hers and dribbled it past her lips into her mouth. She swallowed it all, and I finished by slipping my tongue in. She kissed me back for a few seconds but then sat up and said no again.

"Is it Petr?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm his girlfriend. It's not right we do what he and I do."

"Do you kiss him like that?"

"With the wine, no. But the normal kiss, yes." she replied.

"Is there anything you have't done with him? Maybe we could do one of those things?"

"Like what?"

"Has he ever seen you undressed?"

"No."

"I'd like to see you undressed Magdalena. I've seen part of your henna tattoo. I'd like to see the rest."

"No, that's not going to happen, Steve." she said. But her breathing told a slightly different story. Her eyes were dilated and she hadn't let go of my hand, which was now resting on her thigh lightly stroking her and moving in circles.

I was so turned on by now I moved in closer. We were sitting on two adjacent kitchen stools. I leaned in closer and pushed my mouth against hers once more. She resisted at first and said "No" a few times, but within a minute I was pushing my tongue into her mouth and she was responding. Her little tongue was now darting into my mouth and rolling around my teeth. I reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. I ran my hands across her bare back and down her spine. She wasn't wearing a bra and I pulled down the front of her dress and gently reached down to kiss her breasts. She tried to push me away a little but I kept on and soon had the first nipple between my teeth. I gently tugged at it and licked it and by the time I was sucking on it with full passion she was groaning with the pleasure of it and running her fingers though my hair. I moved onto the the other nipple but kept gently pinching an pulling the first with my thumb and forefinger until she was moaning softly.

"Do you like that, Magdalena? Is that feeling good?"

"Oh, it's feeling incredible," she answered.

I moved my hand back to her thigh and stroked her as I returned my attention to her nipples with my teeth and tongue. Soon I had her in the position I wanted. I tugged at the dress and it started to slide down over the small of her back. I shifted her ass so that I could slide it off and within seconds she was naked except for her panties in my arms.

"I want to take your panties off, Magdalena. I want to see your pussy. I'm going to kiss it and lick it and make you feel like a woman."

"No," she said, but I was insistent. I tugged at her panties. She tried to cross her legs and push at me but I lifted her ass in the same way I'd got her dress off and I spoke into her ear.

"Listen, Magdalena. Your panties are coming off right now. You're going to spread these legs of yours and show me your pussy. Then I'm going to stick my tongue inside you and make you moan so much you'll feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

"Oh god," she moaned. "Oh god, no."

I took her hand and dragged her to the sofa.

Her panties were already showing a wet spot where her juices were soaking the white silk material. I could smell the hormones and the desire.

"Take your fucking panties off for me and beg me to fuck you," I ordered.

"No, don't," she responded, but she lifted her ass and pulled down her panties.

"Don't, Steve. Don't do this. Please."

I turned her over and gave her ass a few slaps to redden her cheeks and make her moan.

She gasped as the sting coiled through her body and then moaned as the wave of pleasure replaced it. I gave her three more slaps, each harder than the first. The last sent a smacking echo through the house. Then I knelt down between her legs and kissed her sopping wet pussy, thrusting my tongue deeply into it. For the next minute or two I tongued her clitoris and slid my fingers into her cunt to lubricate her. She shuddered after a few minutes and I felt her orgasm building.

"Not yet," I whispered into her ear. "I'm going to take that virginity of yours and feel you cum as my cock penetrates you."

"Oh my god," she moaned again. "Don't. Stop. Don't. Stop! Please!"

Was that "Don't stop!"? Or "Don't. Stop"?

Either way we were both too far gone to pull back now. Her juices were literally running onto the sofa cushion and my cock was filling with blood and straining to be released. I loosened my belt and beckoned to her to undress me. She unbuttoned my trousers and pulled my zip down. My hardened cock sprang out and slapped her in the face. I pushed it into her mouth for a few thrusts but what I really wanted was push it into that cunt of hers: wet and virginal.

I pushed her down and spread her legs.

"Put me inside you," I ordered.

She was groaning and moaning with a confusion of feelings and emotions. I had her on the brink of orgasm, but she was a virgin and she was feeling guilty about betraying her boyfriend.

"Put me in you, Magdalena. I'm going to fuck you and cum with you." I ordered.

"Don't make me pregnant! Don't make me pregnant" she gasped between breaths and she grabbed my pulsating cock with her fumbling fingers and positioned me to enter her.

I knelt down and kissed her on the mouth as I pushed inside. She moaned under our kiss as I broke through the last resistance and I felt her shudder and shake as wave after wave of hot muscular contractions shook her entire body.

"Oh Gooooooooddddd!" She screamed as I felt the shudders continue. "Don't make me pregnant! Don't make me pregnant!"

I continued to thrust into her until with a final push I felt my tension explode and I emptied my balls into her. Spurt after spurt of hot sperm shot from my cock into her virginal teenage cunt. I pushed and pushed and felt her tight little pussy drink it all up.

ThenI kissed her again and this time there was no resistance. Her warm and insistent probing little tongue thrust into my mouth with the energy of a dynamo and we rolled off the sofa still fucking and still with our mouths locked together.

That was the first time I fucked Magdalena. She went back to Croatia a couple of days later and a few weeks after that phoned me to say all was well and her period had come on so she wasn't pregnant. By that time I was fucking a pretty little Polish girl called Katja - also eighteen and also with a boyfriend back home - although she didn't seem to have as many qualms as Magdalena and even let me shave her pussy and write on the bare flesh "Steve's property" with an indelible pen the night before she went back to him!

But for all the pussy I was getting, the memory of Magdalena was special and it stood the test of time. So when, earlier this very year, I came across an article on a website written by a Magdalena Perincic, I was moved to follow up on the writer and, there to my surprise, was a picture of her - unmistakably the thirty-eight-year-old version of the virgin I had deflowered twenty years before. Now married with a child and with a doctorate in engineering. How time flies.