Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is the first installment of a story about a girl who likes to make men
cum in their pants.  It was inspired by my experiences as a teenager and by
a story that I read on ASSTR years ago.  If this is illegal where you live,
don't read it.  If this sort of thing offends you, don't read it.  Please
let me know if you like it, and where the story might go; I love the
feedback!  I have a mumber of scenarios in mind, each inspired by a
different event from years ago.  I hope you like them.

   Please drop me a line if you like the story, or even if you don't!  You
can get me at justpeekin@hotmail.com

   Hope you like it!

   Shot in the Shorts - Part 1

   Story codes: mf, mast, hum, fdom?

   My name Amelia, I am a 20 year old university student, and I make boys
cum in their pants.  Well, men too, I guess, but it started with boys.  I
just can't help it.  And by pants I mean underpants - I'm English, not
American!  Sometimes I actually touch them, but the best ones are when they
just lose it and cum all on their own.  I love the look on their faces when
they realise that it's going to happen and that there is nothing that they
can do about it.  Then they throw caution to the wind and let go and enjoy
it, and finally they realise that they now have a load of cum in their
pants and that they are in for a bit of a sticky day!  Don't get me wrong -
I love sex as much as the next girl and nothing makes me happier than to
have a nice hard cock in my pussy (or my mouth or my bum, come to that!),
but there is just something special about having a boy fancy you so much
that he just ejaculates in his underwear.  Or in my underwear, but we'll
get to that!

   Now the first time I made a boy cum it was an accident.  I had NO idea
what I was doing!  I must have been about 12 years old and I had 'got off'
with a really cute boy called Chris at the school disco.  In those days we
were only interested in winning the competition for who could snog the
longest without coming up for air.  Incidentally, Chris and a girl called
Nikky Andrews won it the following year with a slurping 39 minutes and 14
seconds, but that's still a very raw memory and something I don't like to
talk about!

   I was delighted that Chris has decided to bestow his affections on me
because, as I said, he was pretty cute and all the girls fancied him. 
Combined with that was the fact that I wasn't exactly much of a catch.  Oh,
I was very pretty, bright and popular but I was somewhat lacking in the
titty department.  In fact, I was as flat as a board, unlike some girls in
the class who had quite respectable racks even back then, particularly
Nikki Andrews!  Lots of them - in fact most of them - had hair on their
bits as well, whereas I was as bald as a coot.  Not that I was sexually
backward - I had discovered the solitary delights of masturbation when I
was about 9 or so.  I can't remember exactly how I made this fantastic
discovery, but suffice to say that my hand was down my knickers every
chance I got, and that I would 'jill off' at least two or three times a
day. I thought that I was very clever, having invented this activity that
made me feel so incredibly good, and assumed that I was the only person in
the world that was doing it or that ever experienced that strange sensation
that, at the time, I had no idea was called an orgasm.  I think I used to
call it the squeezies because it felt as though all my muscles were
squeezing up, and I used to squeeze my hand with my thighs as I came.  Of
course, I knew all about the birds and the bees, having studied it in
biology class but for some reason I never made the connection between what
Mrs Smith told us and that strange sensation between my legs.  I also knew
that boys 'ejaculated' but had no idea that there was a pleasant sensation
accompanying that ejaculation - it was just something to do with babies.  I
must have been pretty thick.  But back to me and Chris.

   We had 'got off,' as the vernacular of the time had it, at the school
disco and gone in for some fierce snogging and hand holding.  Oh innocent
days!  We snogged and held hands and snogged some more and he even put his
hand on my bare leg just above my knee!  For my part I cuddled him and sat
on his knee and thought that I detected something unfamiliar in his
trousers.  By the time the teachers turned all the lights on and told us
that it was time to go home I was getting quite worked up, although I still
didn't really make the connection between the physical act of sex (which I
knew about in theory) and the nice feeling that I got when I rubbed my
pussy alone at night.  Everyone was duly collected by their parents and I
remember sitting in the back of the car - my older sister was in the front
seat - absolutely desperate to play with myself while confirming to my dad
that yes, I had had a nice time and yes, I had done my homework and no I
didn't want to go to grandma's the next day.  The drive home seemed to last
forever and I ended up with my hand up my dress and my fingers stoking my
pussy gently through my knickers.  By the time I got home I was going nuts!
I rushed up the stairs and into my room closing the door behind me, pulling
my knickers to the side as I did so.  I never even reached the bed - I just
squatted down on the floor in the middle of the room with my dress pulled
up and my knickers pulled to the side, stroking what I had recently learned
was called a clitoris until I was overcome with that lovely sensation that
I just couldn't live without.  The whole thing can't have taken more than
20 seconds!

   The following morning I was delighted when Chris rang me and asked if I
wanted to go into town with him.  Given that he was cute, I quickly said
yes.  Maybe too quickly - a girl doesn't want to appear too eager!  Anyway,
I dressed as I always used to - jeans, a t-shirt and a cotton jumper and
waited for Chris.  He arrived bang on time at the appointed hour and off we
went to tread the familiar path of the young teen (well, almost young teen
in our case) path of what passed for a date.  A tour around the shopping
centre, visiting all the cool shops, followed by a visit to the local
branch of McDonalds.  We knew how to live in them days!

   The tradition was that, following the shopping and the classy meal out
(sic), the boy would ask the girl if she wanted to go go for a walk down by
the river.  This was code for 'do you want to go down by the river so that
I can try to suck your face off and then get my hand down your trousers'
which was fine, because it avoided all those awkward questions like 'do you
want to go out with me' or 'can I see you again.' If she replied in the
affirmative, the deal was clinched and you were a couple.  If in the
negative, it was so long and thanks for the cheeseburger.  I replied in the
affirmative, hussy that I am!

   Off we went to the path that ran along the bank of the river in the
small town in which we lived.  After wandering and chatting and pretending
that each of us had no idea why we were really there, Chris stopped beside
a large tree that leaned over the river.  I nonchalantly went to stand
beside him, much as I might have done if I had been waiting for a bus. 
After a few more minutes, and a couple of pregnant silences, he closed the
10 inch gap that was the gulf between us and put his arm awkwardly around
my shoulders.  I leaned towards him with my hands in my pockets.  After a
few more silent moments he leaned a little closer and kissed me on the
cheek.  I turned a little, and he again kissed my cheek, but a little
closer to my mouth.  I turned a little more, and his next kiss touched the
corner of my mouth.  A final turn and his kiss hit the target dead on.

   I turned now so that I was facing him squarely, closed my eyes and got
to it.  We snogged and snogged for ages!  After a few moments I felt his
lips part slightly and the tip of his tongue probe against my lips.  I
parted my own lips a little and admitted the intruder, fencing at it with
my own tongue.  And so we went on.  After a few moments we were joined
together in a ferocious lip-lock with each of our tongues deep in the mouth
of the other.  And I was quite enjoying it!

   After a little while I registered that Chris's hands were ever-so-slowly
moving down from the area of my back where my bra strap would have been had
I ever worn (or even owned) a bra.  Imperceptibly, they moved.  After a
minute or two they were in the small of my back, which I recall enjoying
hugely, and eventually came to rest on my very pert bum.  Through my jeans,
of course.  My hands stayed where they were - in the middle of his back. 
After all, I wasn't that sort of a girl!

   So there we were in a secluded grove just off the riverbank path with
him with his back to the tree and holding onto my bum and standing in such
a way that one of highs was nearly between my legs, and vice versa.  Then
he started to do something to it which I can only describe as gentle
kneading and I kid you not, that was the start of the problem.  Now I am
sure that he had absolutely no idea about what was going on, but purely by
chance he was seriously hitting my buttons!  The combination of the
kissing, the close proximity of another person, the kneading of my bum
cheeks and the pressure of his leg on my belly just above my pubis was
having what I now know to be an entirely predictable effect.  I was
becoming seriously aroused, and I could feel the moisture building up in my
pussy.  On top of that my nipples, which had never been anything special,
suddenly and for the first time ever began to feel really sensitive.  I
began to squirm very gently against my little playmate, almost unconscious
of his presence and yet reveling in his touch.  I suppose I was trying to
get the point of contact between his thigh and my body to be a bit lower. I
suppose I was essentially masturbating using his leg.

   I was in world of my own, concentrating on the sensation of being
aroused by someone else for the first time when I was brought back to earth
by Chris shuddering and gasping, his body twitching and his crotch rubbing
against my own thigh.  I became very aware of the lump in the front of his
trousers - nothing too impressive, of course, because he was no more
sexually developed than I was - but it was rubbing against my thigh for all
it was worth!  My eyes opened and our lips parted and I watched as his head
went back to rest on the trunk of the tree.  His eyes were shut tight, his
mouth was agape and his breath was escaping in only short gulps,
accompanied by little gasps and grunts that were entirely familiar to me.
It seemed that boys did it as well - quite a revelation!

   This new piece of information was enough to make me forget my own
arousal, for a while at least.  As Chris 'came down' from the high that he
had clearly just experienced and which was of course no stranger to me, he
went bright red.  I tried to talk to him about it but he was acutely
embarrassed and clearly just wanted to be anywhere except with me!  After a
few minutes he made some excuse about having to meet his mother to buy new
shoes, and slipped away.  I was left with a burning curiosity and very
horny pussy right there on the river bank.  There was little I could do
about the curiosity but, having checked to make sure that the coast was
still clear, I lost no time at all in undoing the button and zip of my
jeans and pushing my hand down inside my knickers to relieve the pressure.
I remember quite clearly just how wet my little pussy was and wondering if
that was normal before my middle finger found my clitoris and I couldn't
care less if it was normal or not.