I couldn't believe it! Here I wasโapproaching my twenty-first birthdayโstill a virgin.
With no boyfriend to remedy the situation, I decided to take matters into my own hands, so to speak.
But first, I had to have the right attire. I bought a spaghetti strap dress made of red, stretchy fabric that felt as smooth as satin and shined like oil.
I took it home and surveyed this little number in the mirror.
It wasn't quite perfect yet. I had to hike the skirt up considerably to masturbate. When I did, I could see several folds of excess fabric around my thighs. That wouldn't do.
I wanted easy access. Nobody would work that hard to get the skirt up to fuck me. It made my pussy too big a challenge.
So I cut about four inches off and hemmed it.
Much better. Now the dress came down to just below my butt cheeks. When I stood on the balcony, I could feel the wind stroke my wet, eager pussy.
The heels I chose were four inches high. Standing up in them, I had to hold my ass back, tilted into a position that I thought would line up for a nice angle for a guy's cock to penetrate without too much effort.
To make it easier, I decided not to wear any undergarments on the big nightโbirthday twenty-one.
I masturbated right before going out. That way, my pussy was wet and eager for someone (hopefully several someones) to slide right in.
Luckily, I was right in the middle of my cycle on this Friday night, so there wouldn't be any embarrassing period and there was plenty of juice.
As I walked the ten blocks to the nightclub, I felt my need rise. Nipples erect and poking through the thin, shiny fabric, I knew men would realize I wanted to be fucked, ASAP.
I felt my cream drooling from my throbbing womanhood on my inner thighs, and the crisp late September air tantalized my naked labia.
I waited patiently in line, periodically bumping my ass into the guy behind me. The first couple of times, he said, "excuse me" and backed away.
I liked the smell of his cologne. I really liked the feel of his pole as it rose to meet me when I backed into him time after time. Right before we got to the doorman, he grabbed my hips and ground his erection into me through the fabric.
"Careful, buster," I heard the doorman caution my unseen Would-be rescuer. "You don't want to pay this cover only to be kicked right back out."
"Oh, no. It's just a little play. I don't even know her." The reply was deep, but hoarse from what I'd hoped was desire.
The doorman laughed. "Right on, bro. Have fun with your new friend."
I walked slowly in, trying to guess which cock might be the first to penetrate me. I could smell the cologne from my early player behind me, so I walked to the bar.
I felt him close, so I bumped backward into him. Sure enough, his hard-on was in full swing.
I ground more insistently into it. He grabbed my hips and pushed back.
I giggled and pulled at the back of my dress just a bit to pull it up over my ass.
I heard him say, "Holy shit. You're a virgin. And you're wet."
"Yes. I want you to fix that. Can you?"
"You bet. Let's go out to my truck and get a condom."
"No need. You know it's my first time. I won't get pregnant. Take me here."
"Here?"
"Now."
"Now? In front of all these people?"
"Yes. Hey, it's so crowded, I doubt anyone will even notice."