CHAPTER 1
I started late in life - at least by today's standards - most of my friends had lost their virginity by the age of fifteen of sixteen, some even as early as thirteen. I on the other hand managed to hold out until my senior year and my eighteenth birthday. Hell I didn't even know what a penis looked like until that day! If only I had known what I was missing out on, I probably would have been the first girl in my school to pop her cherri.
It wasn't that I hadn't had the opportunity; I have had plenty of dates and a couple of boyfriends, all of who had tried to take it all the way. I had never even let them feel my boobs up. I had the looks too. I knew I was a good looking young woman - not in a conceited, I'm better than you so don't even try and approach me type of way - no I just knew that I was a beautiful woman. My mom was good looking, what most guys would consider a MILF, and my dad was a good looking guy when he was still alive.
I'm 5' 6" tall with a slim shapely figure, my tits are not huge but they're not small either. They fill out a C cup quite nicely. I have long slender legs topped off by a nice heart shaped ass and a small waist. My hair is long and curly and naturally red... and yes, the carpet does match the drapes at least they used too. Recently I've grown accustomed to shaving my pussy bald and prefer it that way or with a small landing strip.
But no, the problem was, I had this ideal of it being a perfect first time and that I wanted to be in love with the person I was with. I soon realized though that love and sex did not have to go hand-in-hand. I also realized that I did not want to tie myself down to just one person at least not for a long, long time.
But now on to my first story.... My eighteenth was starting out pretty fucking shitty. My parents left the day before on a two week cruise that they hadn't even told me about until they were literally heading out the door. My mom handed me $500 dollars, gave me a peck on the cheek and said that they would be back in two weeks. My step-dad swatted me on the ass - holding his hand there for far longer than was appropriate, not that it was appropriate for him to swat my ass in the first place - and told me not to burn down the house. Not even a fucking happy birthday, nothing!
Sadly it was pretty typical behavior really, ever since mom remarried a year ago. Tim, my stepfather was always ogling me and mom, well... she just seemed to never have time for me anymore.
Anyway, I digress. It was Saturday morning and my birthday, my family was gone and I really didn't have any plans so I figured I would just spend another boring day at the house. An hour later I had finished eating breakfast and was cleaning up the kitchen when I heard the front door open. I wasn't expecting anyone to just come waltzing through the door and was a little apprehensive when I stepped into the hallway to see who it could be.
"Great, could this day get any worse?" I thought to myself as I saw Mark, my stepbrother walk through the door. It wasn't that Mark and I didn't get along; we really didn't know each other very well. He was twenty-two and in collage and we had only met a few times considering my mom and his dad had only met a year and a half ago. I thought of him as kind of a nerd. Like I said earlier, I'm not hung up on looks – and soon I would discover that looks or age didn't matter to me at all – but Mark was a goofy guy. He was 6 ft. on the dot, skinny, as in no muscular build. He had shaggy black hair and up until a couple of months ago when he switched to contacts had thick black glasses. Add a pocket protector and he would have fit in perfectly with the cast from 'Revenge of the Nerds'. Other than that Mark was a nice enough guy... he did insist on calling me 'little sis', which I didn't really like.
"Hey little sis," he said as he put his laundry basket by the door.
"I'm not your sister." I said with a hint of annoyance in my voice, then asked, "what are you doing here Mark?"
"Came to see the family and do some clothes. I'll be heading back tomorrow morning,"
"So the parents didn't tell you either?" That made me feel slightly better. Though they probably didn't think about it considering he didn't actually live here.
"Tell me what?" he asked.
"They took off yesterday. They'll be gone for two weeks," I told him.
"What? That's kind of fucked. I mean, not for me, I really don't care. But today is your birthday and it's a pretty important one too. I think it's kind of shitty that they left you alone on your eighteenth." He said and then handed me a neatly wrapped box complete with gold colored ribbon and bow on top. "It's not much," he said, "but happy birthday, Maggie."
I don't know what made me feel better, that he remembered my birthday or that for once he didn't call me 'little sis'. I was a little choked up as I said, "Thank you, Mark."
"You're welcome, now open it."
I did, carefully removing the bow and the wrapping paper. Inside was a cute little charm bracelet with one Aquarius charm for my birth month. "Thank you, Mark, I love it," and I really did. It reminded me of my childhood when my dad used to bring me home charms from his business trips.
"Well don't get too sentimental little sis, I just picked it up, remembering that it was your birthday."
The 'little sis' kind of burned me, but not so much this time, all I could say was, "at least you remembered." I was thinking of my own mom and lascivious stepfather who hadn't even bothered to wish me a happy birthday.
"Well, I'm off to start laundry and lay down for a bit." He said, then gave me a kiss on the cheek, which he had never done. "Can you wake me up in a couple of hours?" he asked.
"Sure," I said.
He got his clothes started and I watched some TV. I flipped through the channels for a good hour when I got bored with nothing on. I decided to check on Mark's laundry, seeing as he had brought me a gift and all. The laundry room was right across the hall from the guest room – which Mark always used – and I noticed that his door wasn't fully shut. I didn't think much of it because he always left his door open some.
What drew my attention was him calling my name. "Maggie," I heard. I thought maybe he had just seen me and wanted to talk to me, so I approached the door. What I heard next stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Oh, Maggie, that's it hon. Please suck my dick, ohhhhhh... you do it so well." Now, I had never even seen a dick let alone put one in my mouth. I had heard friends talk about it, but could never actually picture doing it myself. Hearing those words though gave me a strange tingling between my legs. I was getting aroused, my pussy was getting wet and I could feel my panties getting sticky with moisture.
I had the momentary thought that I should just go back upstairs and just leave Mark to his own personal thoughts and desires. That passed quickly though as curiosity got the better of me. Slowly I tip-toed to the door, it was open about six inches and I could clearly see Mark lying on the bed covered only by a thin sheet. Now I might be a virgin and know next to nothing about sex, but I wasn't stupid either. I knew where a penis was located on the male anatomy, even if I didn't know what one looked like. And I also knew that they started out small and got a lot bigger the more aroused a guy got. And from the look of the sheets tented at his waist it seemed to me that Mark had a fairly large hard-on.
I could feel my face heating up from embarrassment as I quickly looked to Mark's face, sure that I had been caught spying, but no he was sleeping, passed out cold. He was actually dreaming about me in a sexual way. That turned me on more; my stomach was tightening up some as I got more and more aroused. My pussy was heating up as well and felt as though it was literally dripping fluid. At this point I felt like I was in a daze. My brain was torn; one thought was to turn and walk away the other was to pursue these new urges that I was having. My body seemed to know what it wanted and was not listening to the more rational part of my brain. I wasn't sure what I was going to do if Mark woke up, but I was eighteen now and while, yes, I had always told myself that I wanted to wait for love, I couldn't seem to stop myself.
I rationalized that all I was interested in doing was looking, finally seeing what a penis actually looked like – I certainly was not interested in doing what Mark had asked while in his dream state. No I just wanted to look at it... that was all. Quietly I crept into the room keeping my eyes on Mark's face the whole time, even though that's not where I wanted to look. I had to make sure he didn't wake up, after all.
I arrived at the bed side, he was snoring slightly – not loudly – it was actually kind of cute. My hands were shaking and sweaty as I nervously reached for the edge of the sheet, I was ready to bolt at the first sign of Mark waking up. Not that I thought I would actually make it before I was caught, no... if he woke up now, I was screwed. I'd never be able to explain what I was doing in his room while he slept. But, I no longer cared, my body was being driven on by urges that I didn't fully understand but knew that I couldn't control. The sheet felt cool against my heated fingers and taking one last deep breath to steel my nerves I lowered the fabric down, down until finally I saw the object of my desire. I stared at it, not quite sure what I had been expecting, and I found it to be beautiful. It was long and thick with a large mushroom top head; it was hard as a rock but looked soft and silky. I wanted to touch it, feel it. And even as I thought no, my hand was already reaching for it.