I was reading stories from this same category, and some of them mortified me; some of them made me raging horny. I realized I have some stories of my own to tell...
When I was younger, much much younger, I was molested by my cousin. I was 5-ish, and he was 13 or so. When it happened, I was too young to understand what happened, but now that I do understand what was happening, I am bothered by it. People talk about sex in young children, and they don't understand how changing it can be...for good and bad reasons.
Did I say good reasons?? Why, yes I did. On the night this happened, the little honey-haired child that was me was sexed-up for the first time. My cousin placed his mouth upon my mouth and french-kissed the hell out of my sweet, little girl lips. He fingered me, ate my tight, little, soft, bare pussy, and it made his pubescant cock stiffen up. At the age of 5 years old, I gave my first blowjob, tasted my first load. My hymen was broken by the young man's cock, and even though my mommy stopped him from whatever would have happened past that, I was changed forever. I wanted to know what sex was supposed to be like.
I was 15 when I lost my virginity "for real." It hurt like hell when the guy's thick, teenage cock went into my sticky, tight young pussy that first year of high school, but I didn't bleed, I wanted more, and from there, I knew sex could only get better. I created a monster of myself, not quite a sex addict, but I wanted to work until I got it just right. I was just over five feet tall, gorgeous natural-blonde hair, size D breasts and a slim body to emphasize the impact of my glorous, perky, teenage-girl rack. I figured out how to ride just right, how to do anal, how to give magnificent head. I laid guy after guy but kept myself tight, and I had a hunch that even guys who wouldn't dare hit on me in normal social situations fantacized about me. I shouldn't have been and I shouldn't still be, but I was proud of being a high school hussy, and I was good at it too.
Not that I left all the fanacizing to the guys; I did some fantacizing too. But when it comes down to being a woman, I would always take a guy who can treat me right over a guy who could treat me to a good time. I got with a guy who became my steady boyfriend, and he and I waited a whopping 3 months *sarcasm* before making it together. He wasn't bad, not bad at all; but he was a virgin, and I-by a long shot-was not. I faked phone sex at times because his inexperienced mind created nothing to arouse me because, quite often, the things he imagined, I had already mastered.
So, in my junior year of high school, when I was production manager for an event at our high school and something happened that I could not have even planned to happen, my professional side kicked in, but my lustful side will be forever disappointed.
There was a concert or play or something going on for which I was designated to be head of crew. It sounds anything but sexy, but I assure you, I was 16-or-so years old, curvy, a little bit full of myself, and longing to be full of someone else, if you catch what I mean. There were two boys on crew with whom i would harmlessly flirt, but I quickly figured out that the way we flirted was anything but harmless. One afternoon, as I was walking backstage, the older of the boys grabbed by elbow and led me to a niche on the set where the two of then essentially pinned me down and attempted to arouse me. They certainly were; they carressed my sweet breasts, wedged themselves between my legs, and one of the men rubbed his swollen pink dick up and down my thigh, studying my face to see how to much I responded.
Now, at that moment, the only thing I was concerned with was NOT being caught by out teacher-the dirctor-and being possibly expelled. I removed myself from the situation, stayed prudent and went about my day, not telling anyone about what happened. But, ohh, thinking back now, I should have taken advantage.
I spoke a minute ago of how I used to fantacize, and now I fantacize about how things could have, should have gone. I remember the grins of the men while I sat on the edge of the crate they had forced me onto. I wish I had raised my face to meet theirs and french-kissed the fuck out of them, I wish I had not escaped their grasps and rather encouraged it. I wish that, when one young man grasped at my tits I had raised my shirt and bra so they could see my breasts in all their glory, insisted they put their teeth to my nipples and turn me on as far as I could go. I wish I'd let myself slide that phallace into my sticky hole, hand-jobbing the flesh of the other boy and letting them alternate, slamming hard into my body and making my boobs bounce for all the pleasure I denied them. I wish I'd let that all happen, let them cum in me or let them spew onto my face, or maybe even both. I wish I'd have done that so that I would have a better story to tell than about the time two high-school boys pinned me into a corner and tried to violate me. Honestly, sometimes, I fantacize about how it was, about how dominated and helpless I felt in that moment, but wishing I had shown them that exactly what they were after still wasn't as good as what I could actually do. Wishing that the secret I kept from the boy I was with for three years wasnt that I was almost pounded in school, but that i WAS pounded in school by two thick cocks that weren't his, belonging to two young gentlemen that he was jealous of when there should have been no reason at all. I grin to myself thinking about it, and I'm wet just writing this...
Ahh, to be in high school. Lovely times. These could be the best years of your life, everyone says. My high-school years were great, but still would have been better... ;) Now I am in college, not quite a sex-monger as I used to be, but I think about the things that got me where I am. I remember how I felt, in bothe good and bad ways, and while the bad lingers, the good is what I think about before bed...