Emelie's wild life, part 3


The weeks had now become months and Emelie had real incorporated into the wild life it meant to be a student. In between the festivities, she had managed to take the points she was expected to take and life with Mary and her boyfriend Anders had been expanded to a close-knit party circuit. Emelie really lived life! But even she was on the way in which official untouched - surely it would have been advanced snogging and evening on the toilet along with Dragan and Mary etched itself still within her. If only she would dare to go all the way at some point - she had several times caught in situations involving incited youths both nations and in a cozy environment. But always stopped himself when approaching the critical stage - than sitting on Christian upbringing instilled rigid left. Every time a young tough student approached her thin panties where soaking wet vankades oskuldsmus behind the wet cloth she heard her father's chanting voice. Blushing, she had rejected dozens of horny young men with jacking off alone in his dorm room - dreaming about her pristine pink mouse.

- Christmas holiday Torment

Emelie awoke with a jolt from slumber when the conductor called out the next station. She rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched himself. Outside the cabin window, rushed one snöklätt Småland past - she recognized herself in one go. Jönköping region made itself recognized, although she has not been home since August, when she tentatively began to live his life in Uppsala. Most times the parents had called and wanted her home if only for a weekend but she had always protested study burden and avoided a return flight. She stood up when the train was approaching the platform - she had toned down her outfit because out of the environment she approached. Sure was pretty tight clothes and fashion conscious but with a conservative touch. Her jeans were bright and tight - newly purchased Diesel, a white knit polo shirt in slimfitt However, in a conservative tone, light Timberland boots and the bright blond hair in a ponytail. A balanced makeup that would make her father - frikyrkopastorn - spitting sulfur around him. She picked up his bag from the luggage rack and wrapped in his dark winter jacket (Canadian Goose which she borrowed from her Latina girlfriend Maria), the train began to slow down and she went to disembarkation at the end of the carriage. The heart pounded fast from nervousness - how would she be against? She had painted one worst-case scenario after another about how his father would go on if she dressed "slampigt and wickedness." The train rumbled slowly into the platform and she glimpsed his father and mother, she gathered the last slowdown, she took a deep breath and walked to the end of the train. With a smile, she went against his parents smile came to her.

After an unusually warm kramkalas that was not like her conservative Christian family. Although her father had kept her longer than three seconds as they walked slowly towards the car in the gray afternoon. Emelie sat obediently responded to all questions parents wanted answers to - some smålögner batter itself inevitably in the leisure and entertainment Emelie discussed but felt it still did not matter. She had already started to lie so why not continue it? The trip went exceptionally smoothly, and when her father turned up at the red main villa and the darkness started to fall, so it looked really really idyllic out she thought. This would probably not be that difficult anyway, she felt. It might even be really nice. With light step she shoveled the time up to the house, the warm light batter out through the windows, and when she stepped through the door was heard Christmas music and her siblings quick steps down the stairs to welcome her. It would probably be a Merry Christmas anyway!

- Christmas Eve in the century characters

Christmas festivities at the home of Emelie's family was of a fairly traditional in nature - with the small difference that lots of time was spent in the local Free Church. Because Emelie father was pastor and the church "head" who is also the Christian Democrat strongman in the City Council so it was a lot of inquiries from curious parishioners. Emelie still felt a strong hatred for parish life, it had even strengthened when she was home but she was silent. All of the familiar cash injections she got home each month financed her deluxe student life in Uppsala. Her family had such no idea that she actually took the student - she was really only contributions from the father of a living, study literature and entertainment. Sure, it was wrong out of her but she did not care - the free life outside the small Christian community in Småland attracted and had already enchanted her. She smiled maliciously inside when she realized that her father and the majority of the society's population probably would consider her obsession with the devil they knew her thoughts. She was embarrassed but inside as much as she enjoyed her double life - just take the obligatory afternoon Mass on Christmas Eve when the whole congregation met, her father and several other men from the church preached and testified of God's perfection and the congregation spoke in tongues for Jesus greatness.

She had since childhood faked his ecstasy - ever since the day she questioned what tongues really was something for which she elvaårsålder not got the ecstasy like any other. When she mentioned this family had gathered to pray for her and after one day, she realized that the only thing that would get her to go through childhood without friction was to play with. So later that day, she had every time it was time to ecstatic tongues played out and mimicked those around her. But this last time on Christmas Eve afternoon something had happened. Emelie had for a prominent exhibition which she knew by experience she also took part in tongues. At first, she had pretended to the learned way she always did, but it had happened. When she with raised arms and closed eyes, praising the Lord on that incomprehensible way she had opened his eyes.

On stage - in front of the pulpit - where her father and several prominent parishioners ecstatic invoked the Lord's favor, she got the feeling that someone was watching her. She continued to speak in tongues, but trying to determine if anyone was watching her. She could not stop with their "Performance" for then people around her react. She proceeded to throw his arms and praise the lord while her gaze was reading the collection of people arrived at the scene. Of course, she stood beneath ago with her family. It was not her father who had checked whether she participated in tongues - he was busy with other things. Who could it be? She continued to raise her arms to the ceiling and the words flowed out of her. She thought she saw a man in the back leg in front of the stage whose eyes stuck at her. Unfortunately, there were several in front of ecstatic followed her father in tongues and therefore hid him. She tried hard and looked so who it was - it was one of the church hosts. A man of thirty-five, happily married and not at all by oävet appearance - medium height, small town plump but still handsome with wavy kanstanjebrunt hair. If she did not remember wrong so he was called George. Next to him stood his wife, also ecstatic participation in tongues and praise. A short and curvy woman with curly blond hair and a näpet and Christian face. Her name was Elizabeth - called Betty in the church - and was always positive and laudatory member of Emelie's father's sheep chef. George's gaze was fixed on Emelie and she continued with its participation. At first she thought her eyes were of a harmless kind - perhaps he had discovered that she "was for real." But the more she watched him, she noticed that his eyes never discovered that she saw him. It was then she realized that he looked into her body!

Emelie was the honor of the day wearing a newly purchased dress from one of the fine stores at NK. It was long, down to his ankles, and a bright red color. Not at all the low-cut, but rather conservative daring of such an expression would be allowed. Over this, she had a snow white long cardigan that reached down to her knees. When she arrived at the church, she had kept it closed with the attached belt but then she realized that George checked into her quite as she lowered her gaze and noticed that the belt gone up and the cardigan has opened. The white knitted cardigan was now a setting that emphasized her tight red dress. Her melon sized breasts were safely encased in fabric in a white bra, otherwise it would probably Göran's eyes have lured her nipples to push toward freedom. She felt his pulse raced back and how his eyes that watched her egged her secretly sinful body. Tingling force which she was so familiar with had now begun to spread in the body. Emelie looked at George's direction, and his gaze was fixed on her. Betten, George blonde wife, was deep in tongues and did not in the slightest attention to her husband's wistful gaze upon Emelie. For some reason Emelie could not explain so fly it sinful to her without regard to location and time. With one easy motion, she brought down her arms and let her hands open up the snow-white cardigan for George pined gaze. She held it up so that the red dress framed by the white, and her figure avtecknades clearly. The rounded bust. The narrow waist. Her female hips. It was only a few seconds, and when she looked up at George as their eyes met. He smiled. Rapidly she pulled back the white cardigan over her panting breasts - their eyes met for a millisecond and they both jumped. Then they beat both the eyes and continued to pretend tungomålsextasen - because now she knew that not only was she who was doing that.

On the way home after all the pleasantries at the church - sitting in the middle of the back seat of the car - she had a tingling feeling that she is not really known since she left Uppsala. She was taciturn throughout the journey home and the traditional Christmas celebrations. Not rude or absent without coy in the way she learned when she grew up. So she created no attention by the fire during the Christmas distribution.

As the clock pulled over midnight, Christmas Gospel has been read and siblings asleep so it was time for bed. Emelie said good night to everyone, hugged her family but her thoughts were elsewhere. She went upstairs and into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed its fastidious makeup. Then she slipped into her old room and shut the door quickly. The room was lit Advent candlestick out of the window - a warm light that was softened even more of the pink frame of the room. Everything looked like when she moved out - nybäddat was understood but still the same pink and white linens.

At the short side of the bed stood her full-length mirror behind. She went up to it and looked at himself. She appeared faintly in the dark Christmas night. Only the moon and the Advent candlestick dissolve room. Her pretty face was framed by the spilled blonde hair - she was damp on his upper lip. It tingled in her. With one hand she tied up the belt and let the white cardigan fall from her shoulders and fall to the floor in a heap. Her heavy breathing made her breasts heaving under her dress. She could imagine nipple stiffness through bra and dress goods. She slowly pulled down the zipper in the back and basted off the red dress. She stood in front of her mirror dressed only in bra and panties. A white bra, without the push-up for it had been to provoke the Christian community, and a pair of matching white little thong, even the lace. She felt easy with the right hand fingers over the soft tip - it almost vibrated in her womb. She shuddered and snapped rigging up her bra with his left hand behind his back. She scrambled out of it and also released it to the floor. She looked at herself in the dim room - in the dim light - chest heaving strained. Her nipples teasingly pointed upward as if they strove to be affected. The bra had left their mark on her bulging breasts. Emelie brought down the right hand inside the tiny lace thong panties and a shock shot through her body as his fingers touched the swollen labia. She could not help but pushed rapidly into the index finger between her pussy lips - sticky and slippery sank his finger into the lower knuckle. She saw herself in the mirror - his eyes fixed just like Goran fixed his gaze on her earlier in the service.

She was already rödrosig of horniness cheeks, mouth half open, his hand slowly began rubbing the swollen clitoris that made itself more and more swollen towards her wet palm. While the processing of her horny sex going on, she began work on their breasts. With the left hand she hugged her perky young breasts sometimes hard and sometimes loose. She circled forefinger over the nipple and in the next second pull and squeeze the nipple between forefinger and thumb. She felt sore firmly on the puffy nipples - nipples stood up proud and upprosade of treatment while she squeezed the middle finger to the lower knuckle too. Sure, she was still tight but it sapped out of her like never before. Horniness that presented themselves in the church remained behind and she started fucking her puffy pussy with a frenzy she rarely seen. Her thoughts were with church values ​​Goran - he did the same thing with yourself now? Stroking his cock and fantasizing about the pastor's daughter, or maybe he fucked his wife, Betty, but fantasized Emelie young body?

Straddle-legged in front of the mirror with her panties still on, so she let her fingers go to the root at a pace that made the process to be quiet difficult to keep on. But with the left nipple in a hard nyptag - well drawn - pressed herself back against her clit with the fingers extended and the orgasm rolled over her without mercy or warning. She fell down on his knees with a thud, her pussy pulled together in convulsions at her and she ejaculated abundant in their white thongs. She bit her lower lip not to scream and fell headlong down the stomach on the carpet in her old room. She did not think about it then but if someone had opened the door, she had been straddled with one on your own uppknullad pussy barely hidden by her soaking wet thong.

Afterwards she thought she peed down but realized that it must have been a larger batch of it as she sprayed out with Dragan and Mary. She brought her hand to his lips and tasted her juices. She shuddered. She rose to a kneeling position and looked at herself in the mirror. Chest heaving intense. What was it that took hold on her soul anyway? She stood up and walked over to the bed and as usual she took up her nightgown lying under her pillow. Her mother had not forgotten to put in it the white nightgown this time either. Emelie took off her wet thong panties and wiped his dry between your legs with them. Then took upon themselves the white nightgown and crawled into bed after hiding her panties in her luggage.

She fell asleep very quickly that night. Dreamed she also made ...

Author's comment:
Christmas Day events will perhaps attract the reader, to be continued.

1 response to "Emelie's wild life, part 3"

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