A Horny Woman Ch 01 Beginnings

My name's Paula Oort. I gotta start by getting something off my chest – and I'm not talking about my bra or my 38DD tits, ha ha – but it's time to break this stupid social mold around women who enjoy sex. If I was a guy (and thank goodness, I'm not!) no one would think it weird that I think a lot about sex. That I like watching pornography. That I play with myself constantly. But because I'm a woman nobody seems to be able to deal with it.

There's no word used to describe a guy who likes sex a lot (or a lot of sex) other than "a guy." But erotic literature (and that might just be an oxymoron) is filled with terms other than "a woman with a healthy appetite for sex."

Slut and nympho are the two most common. And it's not like those are achievements we are taught to aspire to – no, call a woman either of those and "everyone knows" she's cheap. Available. Easy. No one relates to her as powerful and in control. And it's not that there's anything wrong when I call what I'm doing slutty – or with my girlfriends. I'm going to share some stuff that I considered slutty – but that's for me to say. I guess it's kinda like the "N-word" thing – a black man or woman can use it with another black man or woman, but if you're white, you're now allowed or permitted. A man calling me a slut is different than another woman. If you don't understand, well, I'm not sure what more I can say.

By the way, don't even get me started on the whole "hooker/whore/prostitute" thing!! When will everyone wake the fuck up and realize that "the world's oldest profession" has been a profession since time immemorial so the stigma attached to it is a product of twisted minds?

Look, I have friends who've been reduced to selling themselves to survive because they have no choice. That's tough enough, but to then have to work through all that bullshit and recover their self-worth says they are far stronger than some guy who loses his hardon if he gets told it's too small! It's why the old idea of "it takes balls" is such bullshit! It takes a vagina! Vaginas get pounded over and over and still work. Try pounding a set of balls – takes a man out immediately!

Now I also have friends who have built a career around trading their sex skills for money and who don't buy into all that stigma. Strong women who learned to capitalize on what they have and who fucking enjoy it! Besides, who is a bigger whore – a politician who sells out his constituents and their needs in order to get his campaign financed, or a woman who knows just how much she's worth to men?

The Puritans out there go crazy when you say that. The misogynists who say women "have their place" freak out when confronted by someone like them. (Like me!) It's really too funny at times. And it's sad at other times.

Ultimately, I don't care. I've gotten to the point at age 34 where I am secure with myself. I don't normally give a rat's ass what people think – but as long as I'm writing, then I get to control what's said. So, get this straight, boys and girls.

I'm a woman who thinks sex is a good, natural part of life. Having it. Thinking about it. Talking about it. Writing about it. And we're not talking just about vanilla, missionary position, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am quickie sex – no, I'm talking about anything two (or more) consenting adults can and want to do with and for each other. Do I need to get explicit? I guess I do – after all, I'm writing for Literotica, and at least a few of you are reading this to get aroused and get off. (It's what I do, so why not you?)

So, let's get down to it.

I grew up in a house with three older brothers and three older sisters. My parents weren't prudes – I remember walking into their bedroom while Mom and Dad were naked, Daddy was flat on his back and Mom was sitting on him and bouncing up and down. The noises they were making were something I'd never heard before. Mom turned to me and said "nobody's getting hurt here, this is called sex, and you can watch it you want but if you stay just keep your questions until we're done and we'll answer them all." And then she turned around and rode Dad's hardon until they both came. That was quite a night. Well, now I know that's what they did – but until they explained it to me, all I could think was "what are they doing?"

In other words, growing up I knew lots about males and females. I saw my brothers get hardons. My sisters got me through menstruation. And masturbation. And they shared with me all about what they knew. Nothing was hidden or forbidden – although we did obey the social rules about age and relationships. Trying to understand why those rules existed took lots of conversations – I finally had to accept on faith that sex with family members wasn't a good thing, and that age differences could get people in trouble.

There was a lot that did happen in our house – but Literotica has rules about what we can write about, so if you want to imagine things, go ahead. And even though some of what went on was just flat out fun – it will stay in my journal, and maybe if we meet in person and I can trust you, I'll talk about it.

Judging from what I've heard from friends in school, I was an adult long before my eighteenth birthday – at least in terms of how I related to the whole arena of sex. But just to be sure that I didn't get anyone in trouble, the most I ever did in high school was some very heavy petting and mutual masturbation. Use your imagination, okay?

Anyway, once I hit eighteen, I was free to do as I pleased with my body. And I wasn't bothered by a lot of what the girls in school seemed to be concerned with. They complained that boys kept staring at their bodies – well, yeah! Hell, the way some of them dressed I found myself staring at their bodies. And I already knew what boobs looked like. What pussies looked like. But they seemed to think they had no control – and I knew just what a crock of bullshit that was!

My boobs were bigger than most girls, although not the size they are today. And I knew that if I dressed with the intention of showing them off, they attracted attention. Who didn't know that? Were they blind? My gosh, flirting was just so damn much fun! Tossing around double entendre and the like was a gas! Besides, I was proud of my big boobs and big nipples. My sisters were jealous, for crying out loud, and they taught me all kinds of moves to have guys captivated. Things like wearing a flimsy bra and a thin blouse and standing under an air conditioner vent to get my nipples to show, or how to bend over and flash my chest to a guy.

I mean, there were times I guess I did want to be related to as more than my boobs – but mostly I found out how much power they gave me and I enjoyed that. It was fun to lean over a teacher's desk and watch him try do deal with what I was presenting to him. Or her – I discovered that at least two of my teachers were lesbians, and that led to a lot of fun!

As my senior year in high school drew to a close, in the last few weeks, I really went wild. Like always sitting in the front row, wearing skirts and no underwear! Watching the movie "Basic Instincts" was pure inspiration! Sharon Stone is one of my absolute heroes! I lost count of the number of times my teachers forgot what they were saying as I flashed them. And there was one cute substitute who totally freaked – I gave him such a hardon that he didn't dare stand up the whole period!

That was where some of the name calling first showed up. My sisters and I laughed ourselves silly when I told them. They told me some of the things they'd done as well. We saw that we really had insane power over people, thanks to our being women. While some of my classmates were in on the joke, there were a good number who began to look down their noses at me. At the time it was a little tough to deal with – but thank goodness for older sisters.

At any rate, I could see how much power I had. And I enjoyed it immensely. But I wanted a bit more – I wanted sex! I mean, it wasn't a mystery. I knew what was supposed to happen. What the pieces were. I knew what a lot of it was going to be like – courtesy of hand me downs from my sisters. Hell, some of the dildoes I used had been used by every other woman in our house – including Mom! – and will probably make their way into the hands (and the pussies) of my nieces. I knew I enjoyed large, hard objects in my pussy. And even in my ass. To the point where I spent time every day masturbating. I discovered all kinds of things – I could make myself cum quickly, or I could prolong the moment for what seemed like hours. There was even the time when I had been at it so long the batteries in my vibrator died before I could cum! My running around our house, butt naked, holding my 8-inch vibrating dildo in hand as I searched frantically for batteries is a tale told at every family gathering since, and I went from running out of the room when it was being told to being the one telling it and adding details! Personally, I think it would make a great Netflix movie. Don't you?

Anyway, despite endless family debates about cock sizes (Should the first one be big? Should it be average? What WAS average? Were circumcised cocks better? And on and on...), I set out to find out for myself. It was an education in and of itself!

First off, most of the guys who I went out with made sex so fucking significant that it was insane! It was as if they didn't know anything about a woman's body. Some guys seemed to think that the entire point of boobs was to be squeezed. It got to the point where I was so tired of that that I actually called one guy's mother while we were still in the car and asked her flat out if she liked her boobs squeezed! After she got over the shock, she said "no, of course not!" And I told her to talk to her son or he'll never ever get laid! He immediately dropped me off and went home, angry and embarrassed.

But you know what? The next time we went out, he was a different person! He paid more attention to how he was making me feel than how he was feeling! Hell, I had an orgasm from him playing with my tits! That young man "took" my virginity, and, as it turned out, I "took" his. And then I raved about our date to the girls in school, and he was so in demand that I never got the chance for a return engagement until the Christmas college break the following year. Learned my lesson – keep the good ones to myself!

So, I finally knew what having a live, hot, throbbing cock cum in my pussy was like. I loved the feeling! It was so new and unique. I made it clear to the guys taking me out that I had no problem "putting out" – but that if they didn't pay attention to what I wanted and how I wanted it; if they were just out to get their rocks off, then not only wasn't I interested but I'd make sure none of the other girls would be. That had an interesting effect. Some guys kept their hands off – we'd have dinner, or go to a movie, or go bowling, but there weren't any frantic attempts to "get in my pants." The guys who agreed to my terms, well, they had a wide range of reactions. Many of them came so quick, they learned to eat pussy. By the time they had me cumming, they were hard again and we both enjoyed it a lot more! And a couple of them even got third and fourth chances on the same night! I'd like to think that there are some very satisfied wives out there today that owe me thanks.

[Continued in A Horny Woman:Ch.02 - A Woman's Touch]