Now all i was interested in was humiliation and punishment and the dressing did nothing for me apart from making me feel silly and humiliated! Anyway,... time passed and my thoughts turned towards the wearing of female clothing for pleasure, now that that interest had entered into my mind i couldn't stop thinking about it. I had no idea what cottaging was, all i knew was that there were certain areas and toilets where it was rumoured that men went to to have fun with each other. I knew several of. And I kissed her. I was 17, she was 15. My hands embraced her at first, but then they started exploring her body. Her blond hair, her soft skin and her thin body. Her small boobs and just perfect ass. I swear, it was exeptionally perfect. She was certainly Swedish.We took off and walked the 500 meters to my house. My parents had gone to Finland for the weekend, so we entered the livingroom. I lay down in the sofa, but she sisn´t follow. Instead she started to undress in front of me. Her. A very smiley faced brunette with flecks of blonde hair making her look younger. She had a very good figure and more than a handful of breast. Her breasts were pendulously suspended from her well proportioned body making them a key distinguishing characteristic. Stella, was not a natural blonde, but blonde hair suited her dark skin colouring. She was smaller and slimmer than Hazel, same age, and looked like an older Helen Skelton. Again, Stella had an unbelievable body with unusual breasts. A stuttered cry fell from her lips when his fingers opened her flesh and he slid two fingers inside her. G’s touch was careful, and calculated as he moved them inside her. The fingers of his left hand went from pinching her nipple, to cupping and squeezing her breast; his broad thumb rolled and plucked the tip even as whispered pleas for him to not stop fell from her lips. Chuckling, he began to nibble and suck at her ear lobe; his right arm shifted, and his thumb found her clit as he moved his.