Subject -- Silicon Valley Hostess is tricked by a displeased suitor and is forced to unwillingly oblige a bus load of sexually demanding Japanese Computer Nerds. All characters are over 18 years of age. Those referred to as students are college or graduate students. If anal, vaginal and oral sex gang bangs are not your thing, go to your TV and turn to the Disney Channel.
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Summer Lov'in Gang Bang
Let me introduce myself, my name is Daphne. Yes, I agree. it's a silly name. My Dad once read a Victorian novel and liked the name. It is not a modern name. it's the name of an Ancient Greek nymph saved by her father from being raped by Apollo.
Luck Daphne, when I was being sexualy ravished by a bus load of Japanese Computer Nerds, no one came to my aid.
I guess you want to know a little about me, so here goes. Oh, I'll go into more detail later about my family but let's start with a brief description of how I look so you can get a mental image in your head.
I'm of mixed parentage. Dad is Japanese and my Mom is German/Latina. I carry a bit of all of them but unlike many Japanese woman, I have two large breasts, sometimes embarrassingly large. My eyes are wide with the tiniest acanthus fold, my cheeks are high, my lips more swollen than a typical Asian but are as sensual as Latina. My legs are long and my muscles are compact and nicely curved like my German grandmother.
My waist is tight. I watch my weight. I keep away from sweets and too many carbs. Like all of us, if I don't, a few pounds from out of nowhere lands on my tummy. I weigh in at 122 pounds and weigh myself every other day. if the needle it pointing above then I'm headed into fat land and I cut out burger rolls and tacos until I'm back to 122. My ass, thought you'd never ask, it's heart shaped and carries a little extra fat so it's a good cushion if you know what I mean. Most of my boyfriends seemed to have prefered the rear entrance.
As for sex, as you might have guessed, I'm no virgin. I started a bit later than my girlfriends. Like most Latinas, of which I am one quarter, I like to please my man, whatever way they desire, oral vaginal or on occasion anal. As I am one half Japanese I have adopted the Japanese liberal attitude toward sex but more about that later.
When I was younger, only a few weeks after graduating from high school, I took two of my girlfriends to the Mission Swimming Pool. It's an old pool here in San Francisco, built a long time ago, but well maintained. It is one of the few pools that are outdoors so you can feel the sun on your face and when it hits my tender nipples under my bikini top, they always get hard. Isn't that crazy?
It was just before Memorial Day. The facility usually closes for holidays. What sense does that make? Anyway, eager to get in a day of swimming before the holiday we made arrangement to go to the pool.
Summer seemed to have already begun with a warm spell that had lasted all of the last two weeks of May. My two girlfriends, Joan and Diane, decided to get our toes wet. We each wore our sexy bikinis. Of the three of us, I had the largest breasts and last year's suit hardly covered me adequately. I realized I should have worn something more modest from the whistles and catcalls I was getting from the boys. Just the same, who cared? And I did enjoy the attention.
I noticed a few of the tough guys, the old Cremer gang from High School, standing in the shade of the boy's locker room. They were delinquents and druggies, a few years older than us. They were watching me but I paid no attention to them. I've always thought to stare back or pay undue attention to a male is to invite attention. Men seem to take an innocent wayward glance as an invitation for intimacy.
It was a beautiful clear day. The blue sky was cloudless. The air was clean and warm with a tiny breeze. The three of us walked and swam in an area of moderate depth. I never felt comfortable swimming where the water was over my head. I keep away from the deep water area where the guys showed off their diving skills or lack thereof. But for us girls it was so much fun to be together on this warm summer day sloshing through cooling water.
The three of us were fooling around, splashing each other with water when all of a sudden I was pulled backwards and my head was pushed under water. What was going on? As I surfaced I realized it was the Cremer guys, four of them dragging me into the deeper end of the pool. I was struggling to keep my head above water and they each had a leg or an arm. But I soon realized what they were really after.
They had their other hands all over me. Feeling my breasts under my top, soon my top was stripped away. Then pinching my nipples, one of the gang was squeezing my ass cheeks and Cremer, the leader of the gang was at my thigh and forcing his finger into my vagina. Finally a lifeguard spotted what was going on. He blew his whistle and dove into the water, then the gang scattered. I found myself in the comforting arms of an older lifeguard who swam me back to the shallow area.
My bikini top had disappeared and for modesty I had to hold on to my naked breasts as he brought me to safety. To my dismay my bikini bottoms were cherry red. My virginity was gone.
As you might imagine, I'll never go to a public swimming pool again. But on those rare times I'd see Cremer, usually in the downtown area, leaning against the 7-11 Store with a paper bag covering whatever he was drinking. He always seemed to be high but he still had the presence of mine to always hold up his third finger and sickly wave it at me with a stupid grin on his face, just before he'd stick out his tongue. Oh, was is disgusting.
That was when I wished I was a big guy. I would have punched him right in the nose. But I'm not a big guy, I'm just a normal big busted girl who got my hymen busted by that thug Cremer at the Mission Pool. I guess that's what they will have to put on my tombstone.
Nope, I'm just kidding! You have to bury such stuff from the past or how else can you go forward? If I learned anything from that experience, I should have learned I have a tendency to be a victim.
I have much sweeter memories to focus on. I remember the first time my high school sweetheart made love to me. It was the night of our high school prom. We had both turned 18, only weeks before. We had come to a beach entry lonely road, hidden behind huge modern homes built right on the shore. He parked his vintage Ford Mustang convertible off to the side of the road under a tall palm tree. We could hear the waves crashing into the piers of what the residents call their private beach. Of course there is no such thing as a legal private beach. All coastal beaches are supposed to be open to the public in California.
There are not supposed to be gated entry roads, but go argue with millionaires or in this case billionaires who build iron gates to wall in their mansions and capture the public beach they front on. Poor people who don't live there are still legally entitled to enter the beach. We may not share their wealth but we do share the love of the beach.
We had parked fifty feet from the locked gate. There was a small gate house with a cut out for an air conditioner. The gate house was empty, the security guard had left for the night. I took off my prom dress in the car and changed into a pair of short shorts and a skimpy halter top. We took a beach blanket and quietly closed the convertible doors. We cut behind the gate house, through the dense brush, and scaled an old wire fence easily.
From that vantage point we could see the big yellow moon that illuminated the white sandy beach. We walked out and laid out our blanket and embraced. Our clothes quickly fell from our bodies, our kisses became more passionate and before I realized it my boyfriends rigid penis was forcing its way between my legs.
The sand beneath our beach towel was cool from the night air. Our lips shone in the moonlight. We promised eternal love to each other, our lips locked in embrace, our hands reaching for the happiness only sexual fulfillment could provide. We were both nude and without warning I could feel for the first time his dart of love had begun to penetrate my vagina.
As with any novices, the excitement was to much to bear. I raised my hips to facilitate his entrance. In that moment he thrust himself deep into my vagina and much too soon erupted, exploding his creamy effluent and spending himself in fervid desire.
This was my first taste of sacred love. We soon would repeat this act in every place we could think of; in his car, in my bedroom, under the school bleachers, even at a drive-in movie north of here. Once we'd started making love, there was no end to our practice sessions. With each repetition the sex just got better and better. My boyfriend was able to last longer so I got what I wanted. Of course, I never complained when he was a "minute man," I'm just not type of girl. But the sex got much better.
Yes, there is no question. Sex is hotter in the summer. It's nice in the winter as well, nestled under a warm blanket; but in the summer heat, the sweat and saliva runs more freely, the pussy lubes, and I was to learn even the ass seems to take a raw cock nicely with just a little precum.