I couldn't believe it! Here I was—approaching my twenty-first birthday—still 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 night—birthday 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."
"Right on."
Despite the loud, driving beat of the music on the dance floor, I could hear his zipper softly opening.
"You're sure? It's not too late."
"I'm sure, on one condition."
"What's that?" He asked, as he slid the head of his cock back and forth against the length of my external genitalia.
"Squirt it all inside me. I want to feel my cervix getting sprayed. I don't think I'll feel like I've lost my virginity unless I can feel your semen squirting inside me."
"You don't even know what I look like."
"I don't care! Just take it and spray me as hard as you can. Please?"
I didn't have to beg any longer. He stopped at the opening to my vagina. He paused briefly, and then pushed in.
I gasped. It hurt, in a pleasurable way. I could feel my hole stretch but my nerve endings around it were alive and begging for more.
He waited a few seconds more.
I wiggled a little.
"Do it again." He did. Once.
"Do it again." He did, twice this time.
"Do it again." He did, and after the second plunge, I commanded, "keep going."