My name is Lu-Ann. I am a sexually open and free-loving woman of twenty. I know I’m young and that society has its vices when it comes to sexuality. My mom had “The Talk” with me many years ago.
I was a good girl and refrained from becoming involved in a lot of things my peers did. I wasn’t in the “cool” group. Because I didn’t lay with every swinging dick in school. I studied, got top grades, and graduated at the top of my class.
Sounds pretty boring, huh? Yes, it was. But my mother was just the opposite. She brought different men home all the time. She was blessed with a beautiful body and looks. She used men.
Men thought they were fucking her. She was fucking them. In every sense of the word. She’d hook them with sex, and they’d do anything to extend the ride. I learned a lot laying in bed listening to my mother and her present lover of the moment carry on in the adjacent bedroom.
Yes, Mom was very sexual. It would drive me crazy. I would put headphones on and blast my music so I could study. After graduation, I got a job as a clerk at a local food store. I heard the rumors and snarky remarks about my mother’s loose behavior.
I have to get a place of my own so I can have a normal life. I lay in bed now and tried to relieve myself with my fingers as my mother’s bed pounded the wall in the next room. Fuck! It’s driving me insane.
One day, while mom was out, I slipped into her room and rummaged through her closet to find a box of sex toys under the other boxes of sex toys. Yes, the woman could start her own sex toy shop.
I found one that was still in its sealed box. A relatively small chrome vibrating dildo. It came with batteries, but they were dead due to the age of the toy. I found some batteries, and it came to life.
I knew Mom wouldn’t miss it, so I put the rest of her stuff back into the closet the way she had it and went to my own room. I flopped down on my bed and turned the vibrator on. The first touch to my crotch felt like a shock had gone through me.
I raised my knees and pulled my covers over my lap to muffle the noise. I was in a baby doll nightie with French-cut silk panties under them. I held the vibrator against my va-jay-jay and squeezed my legs around it.
Oh my god! I felt like the earth had shattered. My vagina gushed, and my body shivered. A very warm, tingling feeling came over me. So, that’s what a climax felt like. I loved it! My panties were soaked with my climatic juices.
I pulled them aside, baring my hair-covered vaginal mound, and pushed the vibrator against my bare vagina. I felt devilish and sexually wicked. The sensations were amazing. I started rubbing the vibrator up and down my slick slit and shivered yet again as I experienced another climax. Moaning as I did.
Then Mom called out. “Are you okay, Lu-Ann?”
I froze but quickly recovered, like a child with her hand stuck in a cookie jar. I blurted out, “I’m fine, Mom.”
Mom then said, “I thought I heard you moan.”
I replied, “I did, Mom.” “Cramps.”
Mom replied, “Oh, okay, the Midol is in the medicine cabinet.”
I still had a few days before my cycle, and Mom’s cycle aligned with mine, so it was a great excuse. I get really horny a few days before my period. I got up and went to the bathroom, where I washed my little thrill maker and dried it off.
I then returned to my room and found a hiding place for it.
Later that day, I found myself staring at the crotches of handsome men to see if I could determine the size of their packages. Gawd, I need to get out and get laid. I’m now preoccupied with thoughts of men’s penises.
That evening, when I got home, I showered and put on my night clothes. Mom was out with some guy named Ron, who would likely get lucky tonight. I pulled out my secret lover and flipped its switch, bringing it to life as I pulled the crotch panel aside and rubbed the vibrator up and down my itching, moist slit.
The sensations were intense. I wanted more. But I was a virgin. My vagina has never been penetrated by anything. I carefully raised the vibrator so the tip was centered on my clitoris. “OMG!” It was too much; I started humping my torso up and down in a simulated sexual union, but I needed more.
As I neared my climax, I humped upward and pushed down on the vibrator to apply maximum pressure to my clitoris. I clearly did not consider my situation. My vagina was slick with my secretions. My hand was shaking. The vibrator slipped from the center point of my clitoris as I applied pressure and entered my virgin vaginal hole.
It slipped into my vagina and tore my hymen before I realized my mistake. The pain was sharp as a pinprick and faded just as fast. I lay there with the vibrator inside of me as it hummed at full speed. I was climaxing. Climaxing like never before.
I reached up to my ample boobs and pinched my large, tight, stone-hard nipples as I squirted my girl’s cum and soaked my bed sheets. I collapsed, exhausted. Sedated from my climatic experience, I released my grip on my plastic lover, and the vibrator slipped free of my vagina.
I felt empty, and my entire crotch tingled from the experience. I smiled. I wanted more. I wanted to experience what my mother experiences when a man lies between her splayed legs, thrusting his cock deep into her and filling her with his male sperm.
I want to feel the warmth of another’s body against mine as I lay sedated, glowing in the aftermath of a climatic sexual interlude. But I’m not stupid. I don’t need to get my ass knocked up. I don’t want a bawling, screaming brat clinging to my milk-swollen tits and filling diapers with shit and piss.
Maybe someday, but not now. I have many experiences to experience and catch up on. I’m tired of being the “good girl.” I stripped my bed, put on fresh sheets, and climbed into it to sleep. I tossed and turned; I didn’t feel right. I got up, stripped off my night clothes, and crawled back into my bed naked, feeling wicked. Wickedly naked, unashamed, and horny.
I dreamed that a man was on top of me. He was thrusting into me. We were sweating. I begged him to go faster and harder. I woke up with my fingers rubbing my horny clitoris. I shook the fog from my mind and sat up. I felt so sexy being naked.
I reached for my phone and called my doctor’s office for an appointment. I needed to get on the pill. I had an appointment after work today. I got lucky; someone canceled theirs. After work, I went to my doctor and got my exam.
She wanted to know if I had sex with a man. I said yes because I didn’t want anyone to know I took my own virginity with a plastic vibrator. That would be embarrassing. A woman my age who was never laid.
Anyhow, she gave me the doctor-patient speech about being careful and STDs. Then she gave me a script and told me to avoid sex for one cycle to make sure the pill was right for me. I went to a pharmacy at a local shopping center. Neither my mom nor I use this one. We have always used a small, locally owned pharmacy.
I didn’t want anyone to see me getting birth control pills. Small towns can demonize a girl for being promiscuous. I already knew I’d have to find my lovers out of town to avoid getting a bad reputation.
It was already bad enough that my mom had a reputation around town. Some of that naturally landed on my shoulders, as many would think, “Like mother, like daughter.” I won’t give them the satisfaction of crawling between my thighs and rutting in my vagina.
I have been eyeing some men on my short list of potential lovers. My store manager is Todd. He’s married but loves to look at young girls. He’s also well-built and chiseled. He spends a lot of time in the gym. I often stare at his tight buns and broad upper torso.
Lately, I’ve been fantasizing about him pulling off his shirt and holding my naked breasts to his chest. I fantasize that he strips me bare in his office and ravishes me until I pass out in exhaustion.
Then there is Dan. Dan is the snack vendor who comes in three days a week. Dan is very warm and friendly. He appears to be about ten years older and does not wear a wedding band. I think I prefer them to be a bit older than me with experience.
I have a lot of catching up to do. sexually, of course. I’m driving myself crazy with these thoughts while I practice being a “good girl.” I got over my first period and started my regimen of birth control pills. I’ve taken them every day, faithfully.
I took my doctor’s advice and didn’t attack any men or have sex with any of them. Not that I’m going to settle for just one. Why buy the pig when all you want is a little bit of hot sausage? I’m tired of rubbing my clitoral area and plunging a vibrator into my hungry vagina.
I know I need to somehow come off to men as being sexy. It’s not an easy task when you have to wear the same outfit as all the other women who work in the store. I might need charm school.
I’m not a raving beauty, but I’m far from ugly. I have a great shape with good-sized boobs. No, not so big as to be utters, but nice-sized boobs. Men will often call them “fun bags” when I overhear them talking about me or one of the girls of similar size and shape.
Well, I made it through my first round of “BC.” Now I need to get laid by an experienced lover. I started wearing more daring outfits to work. No, I can’t work in them, but there is a locker room for us to change in and lock up our purses, etc.
My new attire did not go unnoticed by anyone. The first to say something was Cindy. Cindy is reputedly bisexual. The stories say that she will get along with both men and women. One day, as I entered the locker room, Cindy was ready to exit but stopped to look me over.
She pushed me against the wall as she mauled my boobs and forced her tongue into my mouth. Not crudely like a man, but firmly and insistently. Then she broke it off and said, “You need to loosen up, girl, if you wish to get laid.”
I was dumbfounded. How the hell did she know I wanted to get laid? Cindy looked into my eyes and said, “Honey, if no man’s been plundering your twat or mauling these gorgeous tits, you’ve been living under a rock.”
I didn’t know what to say or how to respond. She leaned in and kissed me again, pushing her tongue into my mouth and grabbing my crotch while pressing her boobs into mine. I let her; in fact, I returned her kiss. I kissed her back. Not like her kiss; no, she was the aggressor, and she had my libido warming up. Could I be bisexual? A lesbian?
Or am I just a nasty little horny slut who will get her rocks off by any means possible?
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This story is a work of fiction and may disclose various sexual and social subjects such as female-female sex, male-female sex, sexual reluctance, group sex, non-protected sex, degradation, drugs, alcohol, exhibition, nonconsent, pregnancy, voyeurism, and subrogation. The author neither condones nor condemns any or all of the acts portrayed herein.
Every story must end. Or must it? I implore you, the reader, to tell me through your feedback. Do not comment on the authenticity of any portion of this fictitious writing. Or morality. It is fiction, a fictional story. It is intended solely for entertainment purposes and not to be analyzed for accuracy in any manner. if you read it. Thank you for following and reading my story or stories.