Life didn't start too wonderful for me. My parents were killed in the twin tower attack when I was in the first grade. I had no siblings, aunts or uncles. My grandparents lived in California and they were the only relatives I had. My name is Megan and this is my story.
The New York social services were slow to react and I spent some time in foster homes until the courts could get their shit together. My grandparents hired a lawyer in order to get through the mass quantities of red tape. Each and every turn in the legal process was painful for them. For some reason the courts were over protective on one hand and absolutely ridiculous on the other. Every time my gramps visited me, a social worker made him jump through hoops. There were many tears before common sense prevailed.
Since I lost both parents, I was awarded two million dollars which a judge placed in a trust fund with all sorts of strings attached. Many people in the system felt my grandparents were only after the money. This is light years away from the truth. I know they loved me very much and they were also suffering with the loss of their only son.
At the time, I didn't have an understanding of what was going on and how difficult New York made things. My gramps told me of the stories and nightmares they put him though. My grandmother stayed in California during the process to run the family business. She was too fragile to deal with the downside of losing a son and fighting for her granddaughter. She passed away when I was 14 but left me with the feeling of love and warmth. She was always there for me and taught me self respect and was very wise on her outlook with life.
Gramps worked hard all his life and was successful in the real estate market. He had several large apartment complexes along the beach which produced a very handsome income.
I moved to California just in time to start the second grade. We lived in a beach community where everything was casual and laid back. I zipped through elementary school with honors and was identified as "academically talented"
I was 13 and in the eighth grade. Beach days and beach parties were as common as green grass. This was the time in life where boys realized girls were more than just a pain in the butt. Girls were in a constant struggle to separate the lies of Hollywood from the parental warnings of doom. The spectrum of behavior kept getting longer with each generation. I guess the bottom would be rave parties where drugs and wanton behavior were the norm and the convent of St.Augustines drawing young girls into sainthood.
I just knew I was different. I liked boys and played their games. I was an expert in leading them around by their play thing only to make them crash and burn. It was an exciting time with beach parties and all. I managed come through with little bruises and selective victories. The "Monica Lewinsky" kept the boys happy but always left the girls wanting. In my case, I managed to remain in the "popular" group without giving anything away.
My thrills were readily available in the many slumber parties during the summer before high school. I was not confused, I like girls much more than boys. Nobody suspected I was anything but a hot looking, very mature, girl who had everyone fooled in many ways.
It was easy to satisfy my tendencies during the many slumber parties that summer. As I said, this was a beach community where the weather was warm all the time and tan lines were nothing more than road maps to the pleasure zones. Most beach parties and slumber parties had adequate supplies of alcohol and weed.
We did not hang out in age groups. A beach party consisted of young teen agers and high school seniors. Many slumber parties would have older girls in the mix because everything was centered around sports and surfing. Volleyball and soccer clubs brought a band of age groups together and you grew up fast at the beach.
This was an affluent community often requiring both parents to have careers and a very active social life of their own. As such, slumber parties were rarely supervised more than laying down vague rules of little consequence. I am trying to set the stage for a typical party of girls in their mid teens.
First of all drinking ran unabated and smoking was not a big deal. Party games such as truth or dare could and did get unbelievable. Dancing was modern vulgar with simulations soon becoming the real thing. My thing was voyeurism and taking advantage of the "wounded". I do not want to get too explicit but I will more than make up for it when I am 18.
I lost my grandmother the first year in high school and my life seemed to change dramatically. She was my guiding light, a person who I was careful not to disappoint or hurt. I loved her so very much. Gramps was my pal. He took over where gramma left off and filled my heart with love. There was nothing he would not do for me and he devoted every moment to my happiness. I did not want for anything. A nice car, clothes, and most important encouragement and support.
Yes, I had boyfriends in high school and they were fun and somewhat exciting. They never came close to breaking my spirit or intimidate me. I kept them happy with a variety of solutions. They never suspected what I was up to until I was doing it. I virtually blew the lid off the top of their heads with some of my antics.
I had one eye on the boys and the other on the girls. My great challenge was not to get labeled as a lezzie and I was successful. My biggest thrill was accomplishing complete satisfaction and dominate my closest girlfriends. I was a master at bending their mind, especially when they were drinking. By the end of the night they would be the one making all the moves on me. I was very clever and that was most of the thrill. They would not start rumors because actually were the aggressors and I was the innocent victim. If they only knew.
I turned 18 in my senior year and I am happy to say that I can happily tell you of my adventures in complete detail. If your mind wants to assume I did naughty things in my younger days, that is not my problem.
It starts to get warm in April and girls begin to compete with one another in an unwritten "provocative dress" contest. Short shorts and short dresses began to dot the landscape. Outrageous tops match the shorts and dresses. Everything is beach and casual. Tans are either manufactured or worked on in the seclusion of the backyard.
Teachers are known to stutter when teaching. They have views only a few shoe salesmen could have. Some of the girls can not sit down and adequately hide their thong. It was virtually impossible. Sexual tension begins to rise as the summer approaches. The campus is a playground for voyeurs and I am in the zone. I have a major advantage, I am a girl dressed the same as my prey. I am armed with an IPhone and have a masterful collection of camel toes and even a variety of no panty shots.
I also entertain myself with providing accidental exposures for the lucky guys and a few teachers. I could be considered a predator much like a lioness stalking "Bambi". I can pick victims out of the herd with uncanny success. I befriend the victim and we soon become best friends. My best weapon is the sleepover. Since I have a bedroom suite to the rear of my gramp's incredibly large house, my privacy is a big plus.
I don't want to leave the impression that I have several conquests during the past few months. I have two lovely girls that I am very comfortable with and another about ready to blossom. I am very careful to maintain my sobriety when I have to drive and therefore, I am able to offer a ride home to ladies I have been working on at beach parties. I trade cell numbers, befriend them on Facebook, coordinate going out to parties with them and eventually have them over for a girls night out.
When I have a girl over for the night, I am cunning and deadly. I have been planting seeds all along and now it is time to pick the fruit. My suite has a very large bedroom with a kingsize bed. The bathroom is large with a spa tub and walk in shower. There is an outside, private spa off the sliding glass door. My liquor supply is impressive and a friend gives me top grade smoke.
My can't miss weapon is the collection of European DVDs which feature the seduction of willing victims. These movies are extremely sensuous and very tasteful. The romantic build up takes at least an hour before the slow and powerful lovemaking begins. I have spent many a raining night getting off three or more times to one movie. It doesn't matter how many times I have seen a particular movie, I will get the same warm and wet response.
Last weekend Celia, my next victim, and I headed to the beach for some sun. Who knows why the beach was so uncrowded, I think people take it for granted. Celia and I walked about a half mile to the cove and found ourselves a cozy spot away from the water. We spread out our towels and stripped down to our bikinis. I was pleasantly surprised that Celia had a revealing bikini. She was gorgeous, a little shorter than me, very nice boobs that wanted to spill out of her suit. Her legs were amazing and she had a nice round butt. She is a quiet girl and I have to carry the conversation.
As we wiggled our butts into the sand and got comfortable, I removed my top to let the girls get some sun. I know I have nice breasts, people told me so and I agree with them. My nipples are so sensitive that when treated with tenderness, I can almost cum. Today I am feeling very sexual and I will push the envelop with Celia because I am without a choice. Her body is on fire, she is that hot. My nipples already have reached maximum extension and the slight breeze has sent signals from my nips to my water department down below.
I have on some very dark sunglasses and catch Celia checking me out. This is a good thing. I turn on my side facing Celia and begin to check her out. Her top is just barely covering her nipples and her tummy is so hard, it creates that gap on both sides of her tummy and her low cut bikini which provides a view of her pubes. The sun is to our backs so my view is incredible. Celia unties her neck strings to get an even tan and when doing so, her movement allowed a nipple to pop out. I want to think that was intentional.
There is no need to talk, it would spoil the peacefulness of the moment. Celia placed her folded T shirt over her eyes in an apparent attempt to get some sleep. She did not correct the naughty nipple for escaping and she parted her legs to tan her thighs. I moved to get comfortable with an emphasis on view enhancement. I could not have been more that 18 inches from the exposed nipple and the view down below was improving.
It seems as though the roles were reversed. I was the one who generally provided the provocative view to turn on the other girl but here we are with me being the voyeur. Either way, I am thrilled. Celia seems to be sleeping. Steady breathing, little movement and a calmness. I sit up and scoot down just a little to see what I can see. Her parted legs offer one fact for sure, she is completely shaved on the sides. My view down the tummy gaps was exposing her mound. No hair was visible and I could clearly see the top of the banana boat. This was the most provocative sight to behold, even the most talented photographer could not create this shot. With my IPhone and its' trusty zoom, I captured the ecstasy of the moment. A major trophy to my collection.
