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My awakening, though a bit late, was dramatic and all-encompassing. Before that Sunday afternoon, sex was something I just didn’t quite get. I was curious, only natural, but most of my curiosity was about why everyone thought it was such a big deal. That all changed the afternoon shortly after my eighteenth birthday when, motivated by sheer boredom, I went snooping around in my parent’s bedroom.
They were out at a barbeque at my Dad’s boss’s house, which meant they would be gone all day and would be pretty well drunk when they got home. I went into their room and started going through drawers, not really looking for anything. I was very surprised to find what my Mom and Dad kept hidden in their respective underwear drawers.
Under my Dad’s ratty boxers I found several raunchy magazines, a small baggy of weed and some rolling papers. The porno mags weren’t all that unexpected, but the pot really blew my mind. I had thought that my Dad was completely un-cool. I just couldn’t picture him toking up. In my Mom’s drawer, among her tasteful underthings, was an even greater surprise. A pearly-white plastic device the approximate size and shape of a flashlight. I was pretty sure my parents didn’t fuck anymore but, based on the evidence, I had to conclude that they both had healthy masturbation habits.
I pinched off a small amount from my Dad’s stash, not enough that he would notice, helped myself to one of the more interesting-looking magazines, and retired to my own bedroom with my mother’s dildo.
Prior to that, I had only masturbated with my hand (except for the time I tried spreading my legs under the bathtub faucet, but that took too damn long.) There was also a light heavy petting experience with Jeremy Tilden, during which he managed to get his hand down my pants for a little while. Like I said, I never really saw what the big deal was.
I was starting to get turned on, though, by the pot and by the pictures in my Dad’s magazine. Mostly it was airbrushed women with big fake boobs, and a few pictures of hairy unattractive men with very large penises. Somehow, though, the sleaziness of the whole thing made it more appealing. And the letters were interesting. After flipping through the pages for a few minutes, I was primed and ready. I switched on my Mom’s vibrator and slid it into my – – – -.
That’s another thing, I was never sure what to call it. My best friend Jane, we’ll get to her in a minute, talked about her “cooch” quite a bit. That always seemed trashy to me. My Mom, when she deigned to refer to female genitals at all, only called them “vaginas.” That’s about as sexy as Biology class. None of the names seemed to work. Cunt- that’s so blunt and obscene. Pussy- what is it, a little kitty cat? Most of the other words for it I associated with jokes told by guys at school, a total turn-off.
So whatever you want to call it, it was all of the sudden dripping wet and buzzing in a hysterically ticklish way. It was like, whoa baby. I only had time to think that this thing I had stuck inside mine had been stuck inside my Mom’s and that was a little fucked up, but weirdly cool. Then I got off hard. What I had took for orgasms before, turns out were only tremors. This was a full-on earthquake. My – – – – started clenching and twitching and I was afraid for one terrifying second that I wouldn’t be able to get the wonderful plastic toy out of me when I was done and how was I going to explain that? Then it slid out with a moist little pop and I was a woman.
“Jesus,” I said out loud. Blasphemy seemed appropriate.
I washed my first real lover off in the sink and put everything back where I had found it. Then I called Jane and told her all about my afternoon.
“That is so wild, Amelia,” she said approvingly. “I have to try it.”
Jane was my best friend, and we told each other everything. Or, that is, she told me everything. I never had anything to tell her. I was totally backwards when it came to sex, but she was the complete opposite. She had tried, or claimed to have tried, just about everything. I know for a fact that she had fucked Mr. Wilkins, our English teacher. And, according to Jane, the reason Susan Hanke didn’t speak to her anymore was because she had caught Jane with her Dad. Then, last summer at church camp she had sucked off four guys in an hour, and this feat had become the stuff of high school legend.
Jane was every guy’s dream; pretty, blonde, a model’s figure (big breasts but otherwise thin) and enthusiastic about putting out. I was the complete opposite; a plain-looking dumpy brunette with glasses, for all purposes frigid.
But for all Jane’s exploits, she had never tried a vibrator. I was proud that I was one up on her in even a small way. Later that week, she came over. My Mom was taking an art class at the college, and my Dad was working late.
“Let’s see it,” Jane said.
We had a joint on Dad, then took turns with Mom’s little friend. Jane went first, and the thing was still wet from her when I used it. I can’t say why that turned me on so much, but my orgasm this time was even more intense. Maybe the fact that Jane was watching had something to casino şirketleri do with it. I don’t know, but I damn near passed out.
“God damn,” Jane said. “That was kinda cool.”
For a couple weeks after that, whenever the parental units were out I snuck down Mr. Buzzy (as I had started calling him.) I started to resent them when they wouldn’t leave. I was hooked.
Still, though, the prospect of actual sex didn’t seem any more enticing than it had before. Maybe it was just because all the guys I knew at school were complete morons. Jane and I went on a double date with Chuck Kaylor and Marty Horn about a month after I had discovered the joys of buzzing plastic. I got stuck with Marty, of course. We went to the park and, while Jane and Chuck got to it on a blanket a few feet away, Marty just wasn’t doing anything for me. He was all thumbs, for one thing. He groped my tits like he was trying to milk a cow.
“Do you swallow?” he whispered hopefully in my ear. That kind of ruined the mood.
“Maybe I’m a lesbian,” I said to Jane one night when she was sleeping over, about a week after the ill-fated date. The parents were in the room, asleep, so we couldn’t get at my Mom’s toy or my Dad’s weed, and had to make due with the liquor cabinet.
“Huh,” she said. “You wanna find out?”
We tried, honest we did. She was a good kisser, and better with her hands than any guy I had been with. I even kind of liked playing with her breasts, they were so much fuller than my own. But by the time she said, “Can I taste your cooch?” I was completely un-aroused. She licked me eagerly down there, but to no avail. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You’re not into this, are you?” she asked.
“You want to taste mine?”
“No thanks.” I sighed heavily, very frustrated by the whole experience.
Jane shrugged, got herself off quickly and efficiently with her hand, then rolled over and went to sleep.
The next morning, I could barely look her in the eye, but she put me at ease with her characteristic directness. “Quit bein’ weird,” she said. “So we tried something different, big deal. At least you know now that you’re not a dyke. We just have to find out what you are into.”
She suggested older men, since I was obviously not into guys our age. “They last longer, know what they’re doing, and never brag about you to anybody,” she said.
“I don’t know,” I said. Somehow a leering pervert old enough to be my Dad didn’t do much for me either. “Maybe I just like vibrators.”
“Well,” Jane said. “You should at least get your own, then.”
I didn’t even know where to buy one. But Jane said that she had been in a porno shop downtown that had a whole wall of all kinds of stuff like that. I was embarrassed to go into that kind of place, but Jane not only insisted that we go down there right away, but also that we did so “dressed slutty.”
I argued for a while, but eventually gave in and changed into a flowered dress which had fit me just fine two years ago, but now was so tight I could barely breathe. The skirt which had once reached my knees now didn’t even come close.
“Lose the panties,” Jane said.
“Come on, Jane,” I said. “No.”
“Why do it halfway?”
Finally, I agreed to this condition as well. We went to Jane’s house and she changed into a black party dress capable of making a grown man cry. She was as naked underneath as I was. I know it turned her on to dress like that.
“God,” she said. “I’m horny enough to fuck just about anybody.”
So we were on our way. We drove downtown to the porno store. I was nervous, giggling like a little girl. Jane wasn’t making things any better.
“Wait,” she said before we went inside. “How’s my THO?”
Her shorthand for “titty hard-on.” Jane’s nipples were standing out against the black fabric of her dress like Good’N’Plenties.
“Looks good,” I said.
“You need some help,” she said, then reached over with both hands and gave my nipples a good hard pinch until they stuck out as much as hers. “Now we’re ready.”
Taking as deep a breath as my tight dress would allow, I followed Jane into the dim recesses of the porno store.
I’m not sure what I’d expected. I thought it would have been somehow more immoral and dangerous-looking. At first glance, thought, it appeared to be a regular video store with book and magazine racks. It wasn’t until you got a closer look at the fleshy box covers or the strange devices hanging from the walls that you knew what kind of place you were in. We stepped inside and headed over to a shelf of videos, but were stopped by a man’s voice.
“I’m going to see some ID’s, girls,” it said.
I turned apprehensively, feeling like I was busted, and got a huge surprise. The store clerk was gorgeous.
He was just a few years older than us, young twenties, tall and lanky. He had dark hair, dense eyebrows and intense brown eyes. My mouth wasn’t the only thing that was watering. I felt a drop of moisture run down the inside of my thigh and remembered what I wasn’t wearing. I suddenly felt very, very naked.
We surrendered our ID’s and the clerk glanced casino firmaları them over with no apparent interest in anything except our dates of birth.
“We’re legal, aren’t we, sir?” Jane asked coyly.
“Barely,” the clerk growled, then went back behind the counter. He opened what looked like a textbook of some kind and started reading, not paying us another bit of attention. Working his way through college, I surmised. I was even more impressed.
“He’s hot,” I whispered to Jane.
“The clerk?” she shrugged. “He’s kinda cute, in a way.”
“He’s fucking beautiful.”
“You really think so?” Jane said. “Huh. You want to get together with him?”
“Well, I’m sure that can be arranged. Let’s get what we came here for first.”
We browsed the porn for a while, out of curiosity. Every kind of kink imaginable was represented, whatever a person might conceivably be into. There was even a gay section, men with men. I’d never seen anything like it. Jane wasn’t as shocked as I was.
“Yeah, fags are kinda cool. You remember Justin Peters? He was the one who taught me how to give blow jobs. Trust me, if you want to know how to do that really well, get a gay guy to teach you.”
We checked out the Wall of Toys next. Again, I was amazed at the wide variety, but Jane was still nonchalant.
“What do you think is more me?” she asked, holding up two boxes. “Hot pink variable-speed clit-buzzer or gigantic black cock dildo?”
“Uh . . .”
“Right. Better get both. I wonder if they have something I can use in my ass.”
I finally, meekly, chose a plain white “muscle massager” about the same as my Mom’s. We carried our purchases up to the counter. It was only then that I realized, with mortification, that the cute clerk would have to ring me up.
“I can’t do it,” I said.
“Come on,” Jane dragged me up to the counter and we put our toys down by the register.
I was blushing so hard I thought my face was going to burst into flames, but the clerk barely even looked up from his textbook.
“You need batteries with that?” he asked automatically.
“Sure, hook us up,” Jane said.
The clerk grabbed some batteries from behind the counter. Then, to my surprise, he pulled my vibrator out of its box and inserted the batteries. He switched it on and nodded at the familiar hum.
“What are you doing?” Jane asked.
“I’ve got to check to make sure it works,” he said. “If it’s broken, you can’t exactly return it.”
He had his hands on something that would soon be in my – – – -. This thought made me tingle all over. I was literally weak in the knees.
Jane put our purchases on her Mom’s credit card. When the transaction was complete, I was so light-headed with arousal and embarrassment that I just had to get out of there. Jane, however, had another idea.
“Excuse me,” she said to the clerk. “My friend has never used a vibrator. Do you think you could show her how?”
The clerk looked up at us, frowning. “What?”
“Those booths back there,” Jane indicated a door that said ‘Private Viewing Booths.’ “Why don’t you take her back there and show her what to do with it? We’ll pay extra.”
I was a little relieved to see that the clerk was now blushing as hard as I was. “Is this a . . . a joke?” he stammered.
“No joke,” Jane said. “Is it, Amelia?”
It was all I could do to shake my head.
“I have to stay on the counter,” he protested feebly, his eyes looking around at the few men wandering the aisles.
“I’ll watch the counter for you,” Jane said. “I bet you’ll sell twice as much smut with me at the register.”
“B-b-but . . .” he was really stuttering now. “You don’t know how to . . .”
“Really, how hard can it be?” Jane grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out from behind the counter. She gave us both a push and before I could protest, I was following the clerk through the door. I wasn’t so out of it that I didn’t notice how firm and cute his ass was.
We walked down a short hallway containing half a dozen little booths separated by curtains. I could tell that there were men in at least a couple of them, I could hear the moaning on the video soundtracks. The air was full of a strange bleachy smell. The clerk led me inside the last booth and shut the curtain. He turned to me.
“Listen, this is just too weird. No offense, I think you’re very attractive, but I can’t just . . .” his voice broke off. “How about if we go out to dinner and a movie sometime, and then maybe . . .”
“What’s your name?” I interrupted.
“Josh,” he said.
“Listen, Josh,” I said. “It takes a lot to get me turned on, and right now I’m so horny for you I can’t see straight. If I don’t seize this moment, I might stay a virgin for the rest of my life. So shut the fuck up and take off your pants.”
I couldn’t believe it. It was like Jane had taken over my mouth.
Josh just goggled at me. “You’re a . . .”
“Jesus,” I said, tearing open his belt. “I told you to shut up.”
He kissed me then, full on the mouth. I had never really been turned on by the whole tongue-down-the-throat güvenilir casino thing, but I wanted to eat this boy up. His hands were all over my tits and I frantically worked at his fly. I think I tore the zipper, but I didn’t hear him complain.
“Sit down,” I commanded, pushing him back onto the stool. His cock (in my head I actually used the word “cock”!) was swollen and gorged, club-like and alien.
“What’s wrong with your . . .”
“I’m not cut,” he said, as if ashamed.
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not circumcised,” he was blushing again.
“Oh my God,” I’d never even seen a picture of one like that. I took it in my hand, experimentally, and rolled the foreskin back. The head popped out, glistening with pearly moisture. I’d heard Jane talk about “pre-cum” before and I guessed that’s what this was.
“I like how it tastes,” Jane had said. So I kneeled down and licked the little white bead of moisture off the head of Josh’s penis. She was right. The taste was musky and sweet at the same time, strangely enticing. I took the cock-head into my mouth, running my tongue in circles around it, trying to coax more of this precious fluid. I’d never really given head before, and was afraid I might be doing it wrong, but Josh moaned and I could feel the thing swell even larger in my mouth. I must have been doing something right.
He made me stop, though. “You sit down,” he said, pushing me away.
We traded places. He kneeled before me as I sat on the stool.
“Spread your legs,” he gasped. I obeyed.
“You’re not wearing panties,” he said. He was staring at my – – – – with intense concentration. Then he sucked it.
Oh my God. Believe it or not, the only person who had ever gone down on me had been Jane during our little “experiment.” She’d licked it rather daintily, but Josh sucked it. There was no other word to describe what he did. His mouth was open wide and his lips and tongue were going crazy, and he was making these slurping and gulping noises. I came so hard I nearly fell off the stool.
He stood up, his face dripping.
“Your Malomar is so sweet,” he gasped.
“Oh, uh,” Josh blushed again. “That’s what I call it. Uh . . .”
“Like the cookie?”
“Huh,” I kind of liked that. Malomar. It was better than any of the other words, anyway.
His cock was pointing like an arrow right at the bulls-eye of my dripping Malomar. I spread my legs wider. More than anything in the world I wanted that big cock inside me.
“Shit,” Josh swore.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Who the fuck cares?” I snarled.
“I care,” Josh said. “And so should you. Now just wait a second. There’s plenty up front. Let me just grab one.”
He tried to get his pants back on, but his zipper was ruined and there was no way he was going to get that monstrous hard-on contained.
“I’ll go,” I said.
“Hurry,” he begged.
He didn’t have to tell me that twice. I ran down the little hallway back up to the front counter. Jane was manning the register, surrounded by perverts. I think she was enjoying the attention. She smiled when she saw me coming.
“I was going to ask you how it was going, but from the looks of you, it must be going pretty well.”
“I need a condom,” I said, getting some amazed looks from the horny middle-aged guys.
“Good,” Jane said. “I have taught you well, my young padawan.”
There were all these little bins in front of the register, each filled with a bewildering array of multi-colored condom wrappers. There was no time to choose, so I just grabbed one and ran back to the booth.
I was a little surprised to find Josh stroking himself when I got back. He looked up, embarrassed, when he saw me. “I, uh, didn’t want it to go down.”
“Whatever,” I said, and tore open the condom wrapper with my teeth. I rolled it onto Josh’s big fat prick. When it was on, I burst out laughing. I just couldn’t help it.
“What?” Josh said.
“Look,” I laughed. I had grabbed one of those gag novelty condoms. It was bright yellow, with eyes and a smiley face on the head. It made his cock look like a big happy yellow snake.
“Oh, shit,” he was laughing, too. “Maybe you should get another one.”
“Fuck that,” I said. “Fuck me.”
Oh, he did. He plunged that cheery banana into my cream-center Malomar before the words were out of my mouth. I felt myself lifted off my feet, thrown back against the wall of the booth. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper inside. I was fucked. His cock was twice as thick as my Mom’s vibrator and fleshy and alive instead of hard plastic. It was so much better, so unbelievably tight and hot. His hands groped my buttocks. One finger grazed my back door and I never thought I’d want that but now I did, God yes. I nodded and he knew what I meant and he slid his finger into my asshole and plunged it in and out while he screwed me up against the wall. I screamed and he put his mouth over mine to stifle the sound and he tasted like my Malomar, sweet and dark. He made a noise like an animal and I knew he was coming. I felt the rubber inflate like a balloon inside me as he pumped it full of his stuff. I could picture it, and the picture made me come, too. I cried out his name and God’s name and a lot of words I’m not sure I’ve ever used.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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