At the time, although it was a dangerous thing to do, I did it because I was really lonely, and because it was fun. Afterwards I often felt more lonely than before, or ended up hating myself, but I would get over it in a few days and find myself thinking about it, and then doing it again.
I first did it at my kid sister's birthday party. A friend of hers was there, a girl I had never met, one of her classmates. My sister was sixteen, so this girl wasn't much older, but she was really filled out in the chest, so that the buttons on her shirt were stretched. Her hair was jet black and waved around her shoulders the way it does in shampoo commercials. She had a pretty smile and a relaxed air about her. The party was boring as I listened to them all squeal and laugh and I ate my cake unobtrusively in the background; I was going out later, but when I saw this girl, and saw her see me, I thought about changing my plans.
We met in the kitchen: she helped me bring in the dirty plates and glasses from the living room while the others played with the new video game dance mat that my sister got as a present. We made some idle chitchat, but far more than any other interest between us was this sexual tension that I had never felt with another girl before. She brushed her chest against my arm as she reached for a glass and I froze.
She looked right in my face and did it again, harder. I smiled ever so slightly and then finished clearing the table. I went to the supply closet by the pantry, a walk-in space, and yanked the light on. She was right behind me, her hands encircling me and cupping my breasts. I turned and pulled her lips to mine and lost myself in a furious explosion of lust.
I popped some of her buttons opening her shirt. Her undershirt came up and her bra unclasped at the front and out popped two of the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen. Round and supple with proud nipples, they filled my hands and hungry mouth. She was panting and tearing at my clothing, taking off my top and bra, fumbling at my jeans. I felt my pussy wet and swollen, sweltering with heat. With my jeans open her hand slid inside my underwear and down to my slit. She rubbed my clit and I almost came right away. I leaned back against the shelves as she went to her knees and put her head between my legs. Her tongue was experienced, her technique expert, lapping up my juices and tantalizing my clit until I came with a groan and fell down on my ass. She took off her own pants and put her cunt on my face while she continued to lick and finger me. She was shaved bare and her pussy was expectant and wide.
Without much thought I went to work on her, my first time to go down on a woman. I was gratified to feel her stiffen and respond with yelps of pleasure from between my thighs. I licked and sucked, slid in my fingers one at a time until half my hand was in her, slipping in her juices. She shuddered in orgasm, once, twice, and the third time we came together, sweating and gasping for breath. It was great.
We got dressed wordlessly, checking each other to see if we could hide what had happened. I checked outside the closet and the coast was clear. I went to the upstairs bathroom, she to the downstairs one. I got her a sewing kit and she fixed her shirt buttons really fast. She kissed me once and then went back to the party.
I never learned her name and I never saw her again.
It didn't happen again for almost six months. As a junior in college, I was pretty busy and didn't get out so much. But a guy in my psychology class invited me to a party and I went without too much expectation. The party was a standard affair and the guy was a flake, so I was leaving when I met this guy in the living room who didn't even ask me to dance or offer me a drink, but just caught my elbow and pulled me over. He looked me right in the eye, deep and intent. He wasn't drinking at all and what I remember most was just this animal intensity in his gaze. After a moment he said, "I thought you were somebody else. I apologize."
"That's okay," I said. " I kinda liked it."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah." I liked the look of him, and somehow things just came together in that moment. I tugged his arm in the direction of the bathroom, which was right there and miraculously empty at that moment. Without a pause he went in with me and we shut and locked the door. I was kissing him and he put his hands on me, gently, and then more insistently as I sucked on his tongue and ground my hip into his hardening crotch. He felt my hips and ass, then he rolled up my tank top and pushed up my bra. My nipples were painfully erect as he suckled at them. He scooped me up in his arms and put my ass on the counter where he could open my jeans and pull them down, panties and all.
Someone pounded on the door and he pounded back.
"Fuck off!" he said and then sank to his knees and sank his tongue in my cunt. His licking and slurping were enthusiastic, if not mind-blowing, but I was so lost in the strangeness of the moment that I didn't mind his inexpertise. After only a minute or so he came up with a thick hard-on jutting out of a mat of thick brown pubic hair.
"Stick it in me," I said, and slid my ass right to the edge of the counter. He set the tip of his dick between my lips, slipping it around to get it lubed, and then he was in me and I groaned as he filled my swollen pussy. He thrust away, his balls slapped my ass, his lips on mine and spilling all over my jaw. I felt a hollow space inside me - my womb, I suppose - that longed to be filled, like an itch inside me. His dick reached right in and almost touched it, giving me a taste of pleasure, but inflaming me more. I needed his cock in me, all at once; I needed him to hit that spot, to fill me up. It was the first time I ever felt that, and I shouted with surprise and need.
I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me so I could grind that cock into me more and more and more. It got closer and closer and my voice leaked out of me, a wailing series of grunts that mixed with his panting and echoed in the white bathroom. Someone was pounding on the door, angry voices shouting. Then the tip of his cock grew bright hot inside me; he hissed and twitched like mad in my grasp; and that was all I needed to reach that space inside me. I came hard and I raked my fingers across his back. I bucked and screeched until we collapsed on the floor. My orgasm shivered around inside me, aftershocks and quivers traveling up through me. The longing from my womb subsided, replaced by a warm glow. We lay there disengaged, panting on the floor, his semen running out of my cunt and my juices shining on his dick.
The door opened. Somebody said, "Oh, yeah!" and the sounds of the party spilled into the room and broke our little bubble. I didn't look up; I couldn't. "Close the fucking door!" he shouted. After a moment it shut. I smiled at him and then put my mouth on his soiled penis. Our mingled juices came off on my tongue. I had tasted a guy's come twice before and found it strange. I didn't hate it, it didn't gross me out, but it didn't exactly taste good, either. Mixed with the bitter taste of my cunt juice, though, it tasted fine indeed. I put one finger in my pussy and brought it up to my mouth, heavy with come. I licked it. There was something amazing about the whole thing.
His dick was clean, getting soft, and he was starting to look anxious. I let him go and pulled my pants back on while he straightened himself out. "Thanks," he said. He went to the door, waiting only to see that I got my shirt back on properly before he opened it.
"No problem," I said, and he left. I walked out of the party and just walked around the neighborhood dazed, almost drugged, just thinking and not thinking. I realized I should be worried about disease, about my reputation, or something, but I wasn't. It was the first time a guy had ever come in me; I was on the pill, but it was just something I got with my friend one time, as an extra precaution, and I had never thought about it. But I really like the feeling, walking after with the slickness inside me, slowly running out. I walked home and went into the bathroom. My panties were soaked with come and my pussy was still swollen with excitement. I masturbated in the bath and licked the come off my fingers, the radio playing to cover my moans from my roommate.
Now, there were a few times after this when I went to a party and ended up having sex with somebody there, but I didn't start going to parties with the express intention of getting laid until after college and I was working at a publishing company in the city. I had a few relationships with guys, but none seemed to last very long. One of my boyfriends, a guy I let move in with me for a while, who I even thought about marrying, told me when he left that there was nothing there for him to relate to. He said I was empty inside. I didn't believe him, because I am here and he was just blind to it. But I did feel like I was kind of apart from everyone else, just a little sideways from the reality that everyone was so engaged in. I was really lonely.
I went to a party in town at the convention center of a big hotel, a promotion by my company. It was fancy dress with lots of wine and a band, but none of the people I knew were going and I was all alone. I decided I would just go and get drunk and get laid. I dressed in a hot red one-piece with black stockings and high heels, which I normally loathe. I took one look at myself in the mirror before I went in and I thought, "slut." I picked my way in, got a drink and tried to look interesting, but nothing happened. There were some attractive men there, but they were all taken or else unapproachable.
But I didn't give up, I just started making a circuit of the ballroom and listening to people's conversations. I figured that, like those other times, it would just happen; it didn't matter with whom. And I met this guy, an author, a big barrel of a man with glasses and a great black beard. He talked to me for a while and was much nicer than he needed to be. I didn't feel any chemistry between us until he took out a handkerchief and wiped at some crumbs that had gotten on my face. He touched me, and smiled; and I smiled at him, and it was there all of a sudden. I wanted him to fuck me, and then he wanted to fuck me. Before either of us could get uncomfortable about it, I said, "Come with me for a minute."
Slight pause: "Okay, sure."
There are a lot of places to fuck in these big hotels if you poke around some, and we found a darkened room with stacks of chairs and folded up tables. He pushed me in, then pulled me close and we kissed. His beard was warm and I liked the way it nestled our lips. I told him and he laughed. "You like that? Well, come on then." His hands were large and thick; they cupped my tits and ass in great massaging handfuls. I slid my hands over his back and shoulders, over his chest and belly and down to his trousers. I unbuckled his belt and let down his pants to rub his cock through his silk boxers. It stiffened gradually and came out to be stout and hard: not so long, but thick.
I sank to my knees and pulled out his penis. I kissed around the head and up and down the shaft, licking and getting it juicy. When I put it in my mouth he groaned with almost a purr, something I've never heard anyone else do quite like that. Because he wasn't so long I could get most of him in my mouth without gagging, and I really worked him over with long sucking strokes and short bobbing. He started hunching a little, trying to fuck my face, and I was getting very wet. I took my mouth off and said, "Let's try the main course."
He pulled up my dress and pulled down my underwear to reveal my garter-framed pussy, ready to go. I was actually a little taller than he which made it very easy for him to access me while standing. He pushed me back against the wall, held up my left leg and entered me. He grunted and thrust, and after we got a rhythm going we fit together very nicely. Endurance he had, and I came twice, small ones close together, with a third on the way when he said, "I'm getting close."
"Come inside me, just don't stop!" I managed.
"You sure?"
