Losing Her Virginity

All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older.

Sarah

It was a balmy fall Friday night and I was halfway through my shift at the Frosty Drive-In, the only place in town to get fast food of any kind. The Frosty served a dizzying variety of frozen concoctions and a wide selection of sandwiches and deep-fried items. I was working the drive-thru window tonight. It is my favorite assignment because I can interact with the customers without being covered in melted ice cream and toppings as always happens when I work the line.

Between the job, my participation on the Varsity Volleyball team, and my other summer "extracurricular activity" that I'd engaged in, my senior year at Valley High had just started and was already crazy busy. Little did I know that it was about to get busier... and a whole lot crazier.

Another car pulled up to the window to collect their order.

"That will be $20.96 please," I said as I slid the glass open.

"Hi, Sarah!" the driver said, "I understand you had a birthday while the wife and I were up north. Happy belated birthday!"

"Yeah! Thank you, Mr. Mitchel. Eighteen years old!" I responded, flashing my best customer service smile. "Gosh, you've been gone for a while. My birthday was back in late May!"

He handed me $25 cash.

"Yeah, the missus and I can't take the summer heat and humidity so we go to Canada for the summer, a little place called Whitefish, Ontario. We come back for Labor Day weekend"

"Ugh, I wish I could escape this place," I frowned.

"Wipe that frown off your beautiful face, young lady. How are the Lady Patriots going to do this year? Ella and I hope to see you girls go to State."

"State or bust! We have four seniors and we've all played together since Freshman year. Plus we have some great underclassmen. Coach says that the State Championship is ours to lose. So far this season we're unbeaten."

I handled his order through the window.

"Put the change in the tip jar, dear. Have a good night and a great year! Now that we're back in town I'm sure we'll see you often," he said as he drove off.

Those were the interactions that I loved. The small-town friendliness, where everyone knows your name. Unfortunately, they also know your business. Living in this small town was like having two thousand pairs of eyes always on you. One pair for every adult. And that doesn't include the kids and all the families from the outlying area.

Just then, a distinctive voice broke through my reverie.

"I'll have a double and a medium chocolate shake."

I heard the deep velvet voice giving his order at the walk-up counter behind me. I knew his name from having waited on him before when he used his debit card, Colt Branson. Tall, blonde, and tan, with a voice that caused me to quiver, he was

the

Branson of Branson Industrial, the largest employer in the county. He was also ten years older than me. The age difference be damned, the sound of his voice sent shivers up my spine and an electric tingle into my teenage pussy. He is a recurring character in my fantasies.

I'm still a virgin, unable to find a boy who is willing to give me what I need. The farthest I've gone with any boy is to give a blowjob. I gave a lot of those over the past summer after I'd turned eighteen that was the "extracurricular activity" that I'd discovered. I found that having a hard cock in my mouth gave me a feeling of power. My lips wrapped around a cock that was throbbing out its hot sticky seed, and the taste of it coating my mouth, usually gave me an unsatisfying orgasm.

Colt

I hadn't been to the Frosty in months, it just wasn't a place that I frequented. I prefer to cook at home or eat at one of the many restaurants in the neighboring town. Tonight, I was passing by and my stomach was growling so I stopped in. As I parked my truck and stepped out I remembered the girl with the strawberry-blonde hair that had taken my order last time. She was working the window tonight, damn the luck. I had hoped that she would be working one of the inside registers. I considered turning around and returning to my truck to wait in the drive-thru line. Then I noticed her lean out the window to deliver an order. There was a view I wouldn't get from the seat of my truck!

The black slacks and red tunic of the employee uniform only served to hide her shape. The exception was when she leaned out the window and the slacks snugged against her ass, and what a fine ass it appeared to be. I suspected that she was a student-athlete judging by the way she carried herself. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes were a deep blue. I remembered her eyes from the last time that she waited on me. I'd wanted to dive into those pools of blue. Then there was her smile, electric was the only way that I could describe it.

I finished giving my order to the boy working the register, paid him, and stepped aside to wait. One of the high school coaches, Jim Hackman, was also waiting for an order and we started a casual conversation. I eventually brought up the girl working the window.

"Who's the girl working the drive-thru?"

"That's Sarah Charles. Captain of the volleyball team."

"I figured her for an athlete. There's an efficiency of motion and a fluidity about her."

"Rumor under the bleachers is that she's become quite the fellatrix," the coach chuckled and elbowed me.

"Seriously coach? In my mind, rumor-mongers ought to be shot. You could ruin her future," I growled threateningly.

The coach stepped back and raised his hands. "Hey, I'm not saying that I have confirmation--."

I grabbed the coach's wrist and pulled him in close. "If you say one more word, repeat that rumor, or even think about touching her, I will have a conversation with the Athletic Director. If necessary I will grease his palm. You will never work in this State again. Do I make myself clear?"

Fortunately for the coach, his number was called. He yanked himself free from my grip, swept his food sack off the counter, and nearly dashed out the door. I chuckled, firm in the belief that educators should be held to account, to the highest standard. I was considering having that conversation with the athletic director regardless. The coach had proven that he was unworthy in my mind.

I watched her work and imagined her in her volleyball uniform. I dated a volleyball player in high school and recalled the shorts. They were my weakness, tight, and almost no inseam. I imagined that Sarah was wearing her uniform shorts as she leaned through the window to deliver another order. My high school girlfriend had a thigh gap back then, and I wondered if Sarah had a gap. My cock stirred in my boxers each time she leaned out of the window.

I stood waiting for my food order and continued watching Sarah. She was poetry in motion, with no wasted effort. Efficient, and at the same time, graceful. Exquisitely graceful. She was just the kind of woman who would land on her back with her legs spread if you tossed her onto your bed.

My number was up but instead of taking a seat inside to eat, or eating in my truck, I found a picnic table outside that gave me a view directly into the drive-thru window. Now, instead of gazing at Sarah's ass, I was admiring her beautiful face.

Sarah

Throughout the summer, I sought out all of my male classmates over the age of eighteen and offered myself to them if they would give me what I wanted. By the time the fall semester started, I estimated that I had let every eighteen-year-old boy in the school coat my tongue with his seed, yet I was unsatisfied.

After swallowing a boy's load, I would go home and slap my suction cup dildo against the tile on the bathroom wall, wrap one of my long athletic socks around my wrists to bind them, stuff a washcloth in my mouth, and whine in wordless protest as the lifeless shaft split my sopping wet pink lips and pushed deep inside. I regretted not upgrading to a squirting dildo, one that would dispense warm fake cum on command. I was sure that if I had one I would lose consciousness when it flooded me.

Ever since that first day that I waited on Colt he had been my fantasy man who tied me up and took his pleasure from me there in the bathroom. I'd developed an attraction to older men over the past few years, but the attraction was more powerful with Colt and I couldn't quite explain it. He makes me flush, my skin feeling hot and sweaty. And the thoughts that he gives me! He makes me think about all kinds of naughty, dirty things. I struggle to keep my eyes off him whenever I see him around town. He is a delicious example of a man, the way he carries himself, the way he dresses, and his deep velvety voice. Every time I see him the result is the same, dampness between my thighs.

But that wetness only leaves me wanting more, which translates to intense sexual fantasies about being taken by an older, dominant man, usually Colt now. A man who would grab me by the throat and spank me. A man who would make me call him daddy or sir while he pins me to the floor and fucks me senseless. A man who would tie me to his bed, tie me in the locker room, tie me in a barn, tie me wherever he desires.

Those are my fantasies. That is what the schoolboys are too childish to give me. I had no idea whether Colt could give me what I needed in real life, but in my hormone-filled imagination, he was the perfect man. I want Colt to take me, I want him to feel my muscles spasm as I cum on him, and I want to be bound and used as his fuck toy.

My "blowjob summer", as I had come to call it, began as a way to find a classmate who would give me what I want. A guy will agree to almost anything when an attractive woman offers to fuck him. I found one boy that I thought might satisfy me. I broached the topic with him and he talked a good line, about binding and spanking me. He said he was going to do it all. We snuck into the school shortly before the janitor was scheduled to leave and hid in the band room. Thirty minutes later we emerged and explored the school to verify that the janitor had left. He was gone, so we went to the gym and pulled out a tumbling mat. The boy bound my wrists, buried two fingers in my steamy teen pussy, and spanked me. He got so worked up over it himself that he shot his wad on my pale cheek before he could penetrate me. I broke down crying, having been so close to being satisfied. The boy was so embarrassed that he untied me and dropped me off a block from my house. After that, I started asking mid-blowjob.

Colt

I watched Sarah as I ate my burger and sipped my shake. I could faintly hear her from my seat. Her voice was sweet and gentle, coming across the cooling evening air and eventually, it disturbed my thoughts. What if she was sweet, naive even? Here I was, projecting my lustful thoughts on this girl, correction, woman, but maybe she was childlike. Fuck, maybe she was a virgin! My cock twitched at the thought.

I shook my head to get the sex thoughts out of my mind. I couldn't very well walk across the parking lot to my truck with my cock tenting my pants. I crumpled my trash and tossed it into the receptacle next to the picnic table. As I walked back to my truck, Sarah looked at me and wiggled her fingers as she smiled. Was she flirting with me? I gave her a slight wave in return, one of those guy waves that says s'up. I felt stupid.

Once home, I pulled up the school website to find the volleyball schedule. Shit! It was grueling, two or three games a week and half of them being away games. These girls were beasts! At the top of the screen, I noticed a link for photographs; I clicked it and nearly choked. The featured photo was of Sarah, in full profile, leaping up to block a spike by the opposing team. She was fully extended, fingertips pointing up and toes pointing down. The photographer had impeccable timing.

I let my eyes take in the magnificence of that moment in time. Her long, thin fingers reached for the ball. Her face bore a look of intensity. Her back was arched, accentuating the curve of her breasts. Her long legs went all the way up and made a divine ass of themselves. She was poetry in motion on the court, wrapped in spandex.

I flipped through the photos. She was in almost all of them, and a full third of them were closeups of her. Her leaping into the air to serve, her squatting for a dig, her bent over in the ready position. It seemed that the photographer had a thing for Sarah and her divine ass as bad or worse than I did.

The photos of her clad in those black spandex shorts that I remembered from my high school days caused my cock to press against my slacks. I decided that I needed some relief and there in front of me was my fantasy. I stood up and removed my pants, took my boxers with them, and sat back down. I gripped my cock and gave it a few tugs, causing it to stand at attention. It was already leaking so I ran my fingertips through my precum and smeared it over the head of my cock, teasing the sensitive area with my fingertips and gently tugging on the glans. The main artery to my cock bulged below the thin skin and the head was an angry purple. It wouldn't take much for me to get off tonight, the photos of Sarah were better than any porn I had on my computer. As I began stroking myself I slowly scrolled through the pictures again. When I got back to the featured photo I took a firm grip on myself and moaned her name as I pumped a rope of jizz onto my stomach, leaving a shiny, milky trail halfway up my polo shirt.

"Well, there's one for the trash can," I said to myself. I sat there milking the last few drops from my softening cock and looking at that fantastic photograph. I right-clicked it and saved it to my hard drive, figuring that I would be coming back to it often.

Sarah

I had been distracted by Colt when he was waiting for his order and talking to Coach Hackman. I had been glancing over my shoulder at them and every time I did, his eyes were fixed on me. I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes, and I wished he was undressing me with his hands. My heart beat a little harder, not from exertion but from excitement. Then I sensed a change in their conversation. It appeared that Colt was gripping the coach's wrist tightly and pulling him close. Colt's jaw was set. When the coach's food order was called he yanked away from Colt's grip and nearly ran out the door. I was shocked, and my heart raced at the sight of Colt's very passionate reaction to something the coach had said. He looked back at me and I quickly turned away, wondering if the outburst was about me.

When Colt took his food order and sat outside, in view of me, I smiled to myself. I made sure to be on her best behavior, putting a little extra lilt into my voice just for his benefit. Just like when he was inside, I noticed him watching me. Without others standing around him he was much more brazen about it. By the time he finished his meal, I could feel my excitement leaking down my thigh. When he stood and walked back toward the building I could have sworn that I saw a bulge along one leg of his slacks. Did he have a boner? For me? The mere thought of it took my breath away. I did a stupid little high school girl finger-wiggle wave at him, then immediately regretted it. He wouldn't want a giggly girl, would he? Surely he'd want a real woman. He could have any woman he wanted, why would he want me? Hell, I can barely flirt, let alone be seductive. When it came to sex I had been pretty direct with my blowjob boys. I turned back to my work and put him out of my mind.

Out of my mind until I got home that night. My parents were watching TV when I came in through the back door. After greeting my parents, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom and stripped off the uniform then hung it on the back of the closet door. Though I hadn't stained it tonight I knew it would still smell of the Frosty. Standing in front of my full-length mirror in nothing but my bra, panties, and socks, I ran my hands over my body. Apparently, I am considered "a hottie", at least that's what the guys at school and my friends say. I admit it, I do look fantastic. I'm not stuck up about it. No, I'm simply confident in my looks. I removed my bra and ran my hands over my breasts. They are not huge, and thankfully so. I don't want huge tits, they would get in the way of my game. My teammates that have big tits constantly complain that they hurt after a game. Then there is the sweat. Boob sweat is the worst if you listen to them. Next, I admired my ass. I turned to see it in the mirror. It is my best asset. Guys pass me in the hallway between classes and turn to watch me walk away. Yes, I have a great ass. Even, Randy, the photography club president who photographs all the games thinks so. At least that's what I take from the photos he posts on the school's web page. I stripped off my panties and bounced in front of the mirror, first admiring my ass and then my tits.

My feet were aching so I sat on my bed for a few minutes and massaged them. That is the worst thing about my job at the Frosty, hours on my feet. Eventually, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to let the water warm. While I waited for the shower, I went into my closet and retrieved my dildo from a box in the corner.

Returning to the bathroom I stepped into the shower, made a final adjustment to the water temperature, and stuck the dildo to the wet wall. After seeing Colt tonight, I needed relief. I backed up to the fake cock and reached between my legs to grasp it. I slid the head between my lips and up my seam until I felt it on my hard little nub. I closed my eyes and moaned. Tonight I was imagining Colt standing behind me and rubbing himself between my lips. I nearly came from the stimulation to my clit but I stopped. I needed more. I needed to be pleasured, even if it was by a fake man.

If only the boys at school weren't so immature. Time after time, I would get them worked up, nearly ready to cum, and I would pull my lips off them with an audible 'pop'.

"Umm, you're fantastic," I would say as I stroked his length. "It tastes so good."

Usually, it didn't. More often than not they were sweaty.

They would always moan at this point, usually begging me to finish what I started.

"Oh, God. Suck it, Sarah, please! Fuck, you're amazing!" they would say.

"How would you like to put your massive tool between my sweet, wet, pink pussy lips and take me?" I'd say.

None of them were massive and I didn't consider any of them to be more than average.

"Oh fuck, YES!" was the common response.

"Oh baby, all I need is for you to tie my hands together and spank me. Then you can put this massive shaft in me and enjoy yourself. Spill your cream in me and watch it drip down my leg when you're finished."

That's usually where things fall apart. Sometimes they would cum right then, shooting ropes against my face. Usually, they'd try to bargain with me.

"Oh baby, I'm so close. Next time, okay?"

I always knew there would be no next time. If the thought of what I wanted didn't entice them to action then and there, I knew they'd never follow through. But, I'd rather be known as a blowjob queen than a tease, so I would wrap my lips around them and let them spill their teenage seed across my tongue. Then I would go home and ride my silicone lover, just like I was about to do.

I didn't bind my wrists tonight; I normally don't when I'm in the shower. Mom would question why one of my socks was wet. So I placed my entrance against the head of my shower mate and pressed back. He parted my tender teenage lips and filled me up. Placing a washcloth in my mouth, I placed my hands against the opposite shower wall and fucked him for all I was worth. My bathroom was filled with wet slapping sounds from my ass contacting the wall and with stifled moans from around my gag.