Room 2D

From Blushes Supplement 22 Today, just after lunch, I saw young Sally down by the old man's shed. Just hanging around I think. I watched her from my allotment, over the hedge. It must be a good ten years or so since they moved into the village. She's a good-looking girl, no doubt about that. Lovely shoulder-length curls of reddish hair, bobbing around as she turns her head this way and that. And she's grown quite tall since her earlier teenage years. I wondered what she was doing, on her own, down by the shed. She definitely looked uneasy as though she hoped no-one was watching. She couldn't see me, though I was so close I swear I could feel her perfume on the sultry warm air. She was looking for something. First she stretched up, feeling along near the top of the door, and I saw her nipples pressing out against the taut material of her tee-shirt. I must confess I've often wondered what she looks like. I mean, ...

By Rebecca Walker from Roué 43 On her eighteenth birthday Elizabeth Rampling began work as a waitress in  Frolics  restaurant, an exclusive establishment with a clientele mainly composed of young eager businessmen and designers in a busy street in the city. It was well known for its pretty waitresses and exuberant host, Charlie Marsh. Recently he decided to exploit the assets of his girls and create some useful publicity for the little bistro by dressing them in various uniforms which would change from week to week. The first week at the job Elizabeth had looked quite stunning in an Edwardian maid’s costume with its long skirt, crisp white apron and rather low-cut neckline which compensated for her new-to-the-job clumsiness — when her hairpin fell into a gentleman’s bread roll and her long springy ringlets trailed through someone’s soup. Yes, the tantalising view of her dark cleavage and her breasts straining forward to f...

From Roué 34 Sonia could never make her mind up what aspect of her visits to her Uncle Roland she hated the most. On the one hand there was the humiliation; on the other was the pain. Neither was pleasant, but as to which was the most unpleasant she just wasn’t sure. What she  did  know, however, was that she would gladly go without either aspect of her dreaded visits, and longed for the day when, at long last, she would be spared the attentions of her mother’s favourite brother. As each year passed; as she grew more and more mature; more and more a young woman rather than a girl, Sonia told herself that soon — very soon — her fortnightly ‘sessions at uncle’s’ would cease. She had been telling herself this since she was sixteen and in her final year at school. Now, aged nineteen — and just two months away from her twentieth birthday — her visits were just as frequent and showed no signs of coming to an end. Of course, i...

From Roué 28 It’s always the same when Uncle Oliver punishes me. Whatever I happen to be wearing I am made to go to my room and change into these silly clothes. He bought them a year or so ago. The knickers are the skimpiest pair he could get hold of and as you can see afford me very little in the way of protection when I have bent over. They cut right into my bum so that my poor sit-upon is almost completely bare. The vest has ridiculously large arm-holes, thanks to a nifty bit of alteration by Uncle. This, as you can see, was done so that when yours truly is in the correct position yours truly’s boobs hang out. He likes boobs does Uncle Oliver though he quite clearly prefers bottoms — mine especially. I have to stand there like that for simply ages while he sits and makes comments on my appearance. ‘You  are  growing into a big girl now, Tina,’ he’ll say or: ‘What a fine young bottom you have, Tina.’ I blush like crazy ...