The Beginning

(This is my first story submitted. It's equal parts reality and fantasy, mixed with a fair bit of lust and shaken up. I really hope you enjoy it, and would love to hear your thoughts and feedback.)

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I think it all started in my sophomore year at college. The feelings were there before, but before the beginning of that year I had managed to suppress all those urges and feelings.

I guess it really began before all of that when I was a teenager still living at home. My entire life I have been petite, attractive but just petite. I think partially due to that I've always looked much younger than my actual age. I consider it a blessing now and embrace it, but back in school I considered it a curse. It didn't help that my older sister physically was so much different than I was. I'm 5'5" tall and weigh around 110 lbs. I have dark blond hair and blue eyes. My sister has always been taller, (around 5'8" or so), darker hair with bright blue eyes and where I have always had a firm body and considered myself an athlete, my sister had the curves and body that drove the boys wild. She had a full c cup where I began developing my smaller breast later (they are still a b-cup). My entire life I was the cute girl, and my sister was every guys object of lust. I was shy and reserved especially around boys where my sister seemed to be born to flirt and tease and she took every opportunity to enjoy it.

I'm not saying that I didn't date or fool around. I tended to date the more reserved guys and when I became sexually active it always seemed awkward and I was never very comfortable with myself. My sister on the other hand went through her boyfriends constantly, and even the boys I dated were attracted to her. She embraced her sexuality and enjoyed it. We were raised by our mother and anytime that my mother was out of town or coming home late she would have guys over.

When they were over it was never a mystery what they were up to. Anywhere I was in the house I could hear her and her newest "boyfriend" having sex. She was always so loud, moaning, screaming and begging. Whenever I went through her room (as little sisters tend to do) I would find things like extremely revealing lingerie, sex toys, and even once a sex tape. I think this just made me more reserved since I was still uncomfortable with my own body and sexuality.

I think deep down I wanted to be more like my sister, and once I graduated and went away to college, the feelings grew more and more. I wanted guys to lust after me like they did my sister. I wanted to feel free enough to be loud during sex like she was, having no care who might hear her using language that made me blush. In my fantasies I became more like her, and I would whisper out loud, when my room mate was out, the types of things I would say to my next lover.

I think like many people not completely comfortable with their desires or at least sharing them I used the internet to help start breaking out of my shell. I would go to chat rooms and with the anonymity of the computer would chat with complete strangers and type the things that I never had the courage to say in real life. I relished the feeling of being this "young slut" for these men, and had some of the most amazing orgasms reading what they would do to me. When I started I would describe myself to these strangers using my sisters look as a model for them. Gradually I started to use what I really looked like when describing myself, (which was a huge thrill for me), and learned that there were plenty of guys that thought my petite body and my pixie baby face were attractive and sexy to them.

I would never take it further than just chatting however. I wasn't ready to take that next step. I never met anyone that I chatted with online, and any pictures that I would send to them would only be of what I felt as safe. I never sent pictures of my face, but sometimes would send a picture of my stomach (which I've always been proud of) and when I felt particularly daring, a picture of my ass, (with panties on of course).

That summer when I returned home I reverted to my shy self, but I think I had already started to change. I was starting to feel more comfortable with myself, and for the first time in my life I started buying clothes that would show off more of my body and I started noticing the looks from guys. When I went back to school that following fall, I went back a happier (and hornier) girl. (My sister you ask? That summer I think she started to change as well. She was dating a really great guy and seemed to be settling down a little).

That fall I started up my online antics. I even posted on some free adult personal boards. In them I would describe how "I wanted to be fucked. To be a complete slut, and worship your cock. Please send pictures of yourself and your cock." I didn't post them with any real intention of acting on any responses, but the act of doing it and reading the responses I got were the source of so many masturbation sessions. On a couple of occasions I even had some email exchanges with the men, but I would always simply stop after a point and just ignore them.

I started realizing around this time that it was older men that I was really attracted to. As I chatted with more guys I found that there were so many guys out there that loved the idea of fucking a someone that was so much younger than they were. The fact that I looked young was a turn on to them, and I played up to the roles they had so many fantasies about. I started dressing more provocatively, and when out about in town I would often give "accidental" peeks to some of the older men I saw. My favorite targets were men that were out with wives. If I caught them stealing looks at me over their wife's shoulder, I would reward them with a flash of my panties. I can't count how many times I left a restaurant with my left over meal because I was getting so turned on that I lost my appetite. Pleated skirts and short denim skirts were continuously added to my wardrobe with just this purpose in mind.

We got a short fall break that year and so I went home to relax and see my family. The Saturday night after I got home I was asked to babysit for my next door neighbors. Their ordinary baby sitter had called them at the last minute and had to cancel. It was the wife, Lori, who had stopped by and begged me to help them out. There was some sort of work function that both her and her husband Pete couldn't miss. I knew their kids fairly well, but they weren't the reason I agreed to do it. I didn't tell Lori, but it was her husband Pete that had me excited to come over.

Pete was well known by my friends, my sister and I as a "dirty old man". When I was younger and my mom would be out of town, he would often stop by our house if we were having people over to "check up on us" since he had promised our mother. We all knew that he just used it as an excuse to come over and try and flirt with us and our friends. He would give us lingering hugs, brushing up against us and always make bad jokes. When I was younger it creeped me out, (my sister seemed to enjoy the attention and seemed to enjoy teasing him), but now the thought of taking over my sister's role of teasing him made me wet.

When I went over that night I wore what had become my tease outfit. I short pleated skirt and a sweater. Innocent enough but when used right seemed to drive guys crazy. I wasn't disappointed with the reaction I got from Pete when I came over. While Lori was going over the list of phone numbers and the schedule for the kids, I felt his eyes all over me. I nodded and tried to listen but all I could think about was whether I was turning Pete on.

I won't bore you with the details of baby-sitting. The games we played or anything like that. But I will tell you that I couldn't wait until Pete and Lori got home. I wanted to push things a little that night. At some point I must have dozed off on the couch.

I woke up when I noticed the headlights pulling in to the driveway. I peeked out the window to see Lori and Pete getting out of a taxi. Interesting I thought, they are probably both too drunk to drive themselves home.

When they came in it was immediately apparent that I was right. Lori was barely walking being supported by Pete. I greeted them and let them know the children were both asleep and had behaved like angels. Lori was happy but excused herself saying she wasn't feeling well and had to lay down. Pete let me know that he would be right back and helped her off to bed.

I waited patiently on the couch and my heart started pounding when I saw him come down the stairs. Pete was a big man. He was around 6' 2" tall, sandy blonde hair, really blue eyes. He wasn't what anyone would consider a great looking guy. He was a heavy guy, (I won't even venture a guess how much he weighs), and had a ruddy complexion, but at that moment I wanted him to want me.

He sat next to me and started counting out some cash. His eyes were more focused on how high my skirt and ridden up though, and that sent a surge of adrenaline through my body.

"So how was your event?", I asked.

I'm not even sure what he said at that point, I was too busy watching his body language and his eyes. He kept leaning closer to me, and his eyes were drinking in my body, and I loved every second of it. When he put his hand on my calf I felt like every nerve in my body was alive. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and his hand was slightly trembling on my leg. When he asked me if I had a boyfriend I decided to turn things up a notch.

I laid my hand over his and told him no, and that it was because I hadn't found a man yet that could keep up with me. I leaned in a bit as I told him and shifted my leg. I knew that my skirt had ridden up high enough to give him a good view of my panties, and his eyes didn't let me down.

His hand didn't let me down either and he slid it up to just behind my knee. He asked me what it was they had a hard time keeping up with, because he was having no problem being up with me. (I can't remember if that was exactly how he said it, but you get the general idea, it was a tacky statement somewhere along those lines). I didn't really care at that point, I just took it as my cue to act finally.

I would love to share the details with you of exactly how it progressed. To tell you step by step what happened, where his hands moved, my feelings and reaction to each new stimulus. But to be honest my brain seems to shut down on details. I do know that we started kissing, and his hands were all over my body, clutching and grabbing. His kisses were forceful, his tongue demanding. His hands were strong and rough, and when his fingers pushed aside my panties to play with my pussy, they weren't gentle, and I loved every second of it.

I moaned for him, letting him know that I was his little slut to use. I wanted to scream and be loud, pornographically so. He clamped his hand over my mouth though telling me to keep it down. He left it there as he undid his pants and pulled his cock out, I spread my legs for his as wide as I could, wanting him to see me as wanting it as bad as he did.

When he pressed his weight on my body and I felt his head at my pussy I was already ecstatic. Without any hesitation on his part he worked the fat head inside of me, and with one forceful push of his hips I felt impaled. His cock was so fat, so heavy, bordering on painful, and I loved it.

We did not make love. He fucked me. Breathing heavy on my neck, sometimes biting, sometimes telling me how good I felt, and how he always new that I was a slut. It was the words he growled that I loved the most and I felt more alive and had more orgasms than I had ever had before. His heavy hand was a reminder to stay quiet, but I let him know that I loved it, moving my hips for him, whimpering in lust and ecstasy.

I don't know how long he fucked me like that, but his heavy body and cock continued used my body for what felt like forever. When he pulled his cock out it was so sudden, my sudden emptiness shocked me from my orgasmic haze.

He grabbed my hair as my mouth was suddenly free and brought his fat cock up to my face and pushed it between my lips. I was happy to show him that I wasn't just pretending and started sucking his cock like I would die without it. It stretched my mouth open so wide and he pushed it in to the back of my throat. I felt my gag reflex kick in and tried to relax. His hand gripped my hair so tight and I was rewarded with his thick cum flooding my mouth. I swallowed it all for him, and even when he was spent I continued to suck, loving the sounds of his ragged breath, tasting and smelling our mixture of wetness.

I'm pretty sure we didn't share any words when I finally let go of his spent cock. I know that I had a smile that wouldn't go away. I'm pretty sure I skipped home that night replaying it in my mind, wondering what types of things I could try next.