I don’t even remember the age I started discovering my body, but I know it was young. I’ve heard women mature sexually faster than men do, and I believe it with the experiences I’ve had. The only bad thing is I still live at home, and my parents think that sex is for procreation, and masturbation is a sin. I honestly believe they only had sex one time in their relationship, and that’s when they made me. What’s weird is that both of them are extremely attractive. They work out daily, indulge in personal trainers, and my mother even went away one weekend for a little minor surgery. Oddly enough, her breasts were twice the size when she returned. We never spoke of it, but there was no way you couldn’t notice such a drastic change.
When I turned eighteen, my life changed drastically. I had begun my first year of college and needed to make some extra cash. My parents paid fully for my college, but they gave nothing else. I wanted to hang out with friends, vacation, spring break, and even party, but I couldn’t ask them for more. They were paying for an Ivy League college, and I know that tapped out their finances. The only way I could work was to hide it from both of them. I promised to focus on classes, and they would handle the rest.
Frustrated, my best girlfriend suggested that I go on dates for money with older men. She was doing it and making about five grand a month. The crazy thing was that I was still a virgin, and some of these men wanted sex. Sure, they paid extra for that, but I knew nothing about sex other than what I did to myself nightly. If that wasn’t enough of fear, my father is a cop. What if he found out about what I was doing, or worse, what if he busted me. As nervous as I was, the money was just too much for me to turn down the offer.
My girlfriend Brenda set me up to meet with a client that used her frequently. Brenda told me that he was the kind of guy that loved to spoil pretty girls like us. I’ve heard about sugar daddies, but I never thought I would have one of my own. She also told me that is he likes me, he might be the only client that I will ever need. Have you ever gotten a case of all-over chills? That was the first time for me, and the excitement had me so horny.
Later that night, my pussy needed to be taken care of, and since my parents were out for the evening, I could be as loud as I wanted. I slipped into my bedroom, the door locked behind me. Within seconds all of my clothes laid in the corner of the bedroom. I closed the blinds, sneaking a peek outside before I did. Paranoia always got the best of me when I was touching myself.
My bedroom is still decorated from childhood. The stuffed animals on my bed have seen a lot of my naughty time. Oddly enough, I like to place them on the floor facing the wall each time. It’s as though they will tell on me or worse than that. Judge me for sinning against myself. I pulled back the pink-flowered spread on my bed, put every fluffy animal in the corner, and spread out on the sheets, ready to masturbate my frustrations away.
In my bedroom, there is a mirror on the wall across from my bed. For the first time, I watched as my fingers danced up and down my swollen pussy lips, gasping when they got wet without even spreading them. I almost cried out in quivers of pleasure. I could always achieve little breaths of orgasmic death. I pushed my feet to the edge of the twin bed. My pouty pink slit opened just enough to see my clit. Already swollen, the little bundle of nerves was my greatest find. I remember the first time I came. I hid in my closet for an hour crying because I thought I broke my pussy. How would I explain to my parents that I broke that part of my body if masturbation was a sin?
Dangling a finger above my pussy lips, drops of my fluid dripping from the tips like speckles of rain on my swollen mound. I always did love warm summer rain. Down and in, my slender digits gliding like a paintbrush up and down my soft folds. Only stopping to taunt my clit. A whisper of filth slipping from my lips as the circles are drawn around the tiny bundle of nerves.
“Fucking whore,” I whisper.
My lips quiver as the words of a lover spill, I press my index finger inside, stopping the moment I feel my hymen. God, I want to break it. I want to take away my virginity, but one day will I regret that? The unknown scares me enough to stop and retract my soaking wet finger. If I went deeper, would I pull back and find the sins staining my nails? I am sure I would. For a brief second, I push my candy-coated finger into my mouth and imagine the taste of blood. I’ve never thought about why a Vampire craves blood until that moment.
The ache deepening, my hand follows the warmth as it rushed down my body, slapping hard over my wet pussy lips. The reflection in the mirror tells me that I left a mark. It wasn’t the first time, but god, I want so more. My other hand tugged my erect nipples. I was pulling them from my body until the pain forces me to release them. I didn’t mean to cum, but it wasn’t an accident either. As my finger rubbed over my clit, and my other hand twisted my little buds, I screamed out in waves of pleasure as an orgasm bolted through my body with wicked strikes of painful pleasure. It physically hurt to come that hard, and yet, I’ve never experienced something so beautiful.
As I laid in bliss, thinking about what and how this escort life would be, my phone brought me back to reality. Sliding my slippery fingers over the screen, it was my best friend Brenda sent me a picture. I will never forget the moment I opened it and read the cation.
“I told my sugar daddy all about you, and he wants to arrange a date. I attached his picture so you can see him.”
I think I blacked out for a few moments. The picture was of my father, and there was no way in hell I could ever look Brenda in the face again.
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