Life is weird. I always believed that after exiting those "awkward" teenage years, and emerging- in the eyes of the world- as an adult, things would become much more clear. That hasn't happened. My name is Karen, my friends call me Kari. I have never quite fit-in. And now things have spiraled out of my control. Or as much control as I ever thought that I had.
I went through many stages of post-pubescent angst and marked each occasion with some startling and ultimately, unsatisfying alteration of my body. Hoping that one of them, plus the experience and advantages of every year would add the appropriate wisdom that would carry me through life. I celebrated my twenty-first anniversary on this planet by sucking my brother's cock. There goes that theory!
I'm half-way to twenty-two and my life has been much better- atleast my sex life! Once again, I just crawled out of my brother Ricky's bed; wiping remnants of his sticky cum from my lips, after the morning's routine of blowjob, mauling of my tits, missionary fucking followed by doggy-style and then "putting a shine" on his cock as he likes to say, and then padding-off to the kitchen to start the coffee and prepare breakfast. This phase of my stunted growth cycle has lasted longer than most but it has been the most enjoyable. I am a sex-slave to my older brother but, atleast I have some mind-blowing orgasms and I know that someone enjoys my body and I understand the voluntary role that I've adopted in our sexual dynamic. This was certainly, not always the case.
In my younger days, my body-image was terrible. I was a bright girl but never really popular. In an era when tall and thin were in, I was short and heavy. Entering high school, I was involved in Gothic clothing with dark nails and make-up and I accentuated my shocking appearance by practically shaving my head and later, adding some stupid tattoos. Fortunately, the body-art was non-offensive and because I still feared the wrath of my parents, it was on parts of my body that few people were interested in.
As a junior, I was noticed by the school's softball coach as a competent, powerful player in our gym classes. Soon, I was accepted on the varsity team but then further shunned by any boys, as being too butch or more probably- a lesbian. My hair had grown-out by then, to mid-body length and resumed it's auburn shade of brunette. There had been a late growth-spurt that stretched my anatomy to about 5'9" and relocated the more feminine curves. I was still "husky" but through constant training and sweating-off the excess, I tipped the scales at 145 and a 34B. I plainly felt more comfortable in cleats and batting gloves than in heels and lace. But that led to more suggestions that I must be gay.
In the locker room after games there were some girls who were more open about sexuality and this led to some scintillating and erotic intimations. In my senior season at age eighteen, I had my first intimate experience. At a party celebrating our advancement to the playoffs, I had my first real taste of hard liquor. And then the hard licking began. I was isolated with two other girls in a back bedroom and a bottle of very cold vodka. We played-out a "game" that involved sipping from the big red cups and answering pointed questions about sex. I had no expertise with either the eighty-proof warm-up or the eight-hundred-degree heatwave in my uterus.
Naturally, I had teased my own pussy with my fingers many times; imagining some of the well-built, studly boys, flexing and preening in my classes and also, some of the hauntingly beautiful and entirely-naked young women that I had seen in the showers. The image of a stretching, purring kitten that was stenciled on my upper thigh always reminded me of the "sacred" cherry that was kept hidden behind the wiry crop of reddish-brown curls that guarded my fiery orifice. Two or three fingers routinely plunged in and out of my virginal furnace every night as I enumerated the endless list of people to whom I would gladly offer my bothersome virtue.
I was so naive and desperate to fit-in, that I was easy prey for more "sophisticated" pillagers. In that darkened bedroom, the intoxicating effects of the alcohol and close quarters of a soft, warm bed, loosened whatever inhibitions that had secured my modesty to that point. I was not so stupid to misunderstand what was happening, but my head was swimming from more than the warming hooch. My high-school mind told me that no boys would ever be interested in me and that maybe I was kidding myself, and my true affections were toward women. It wasn't long before my small tits were released from their confining bra and that my twin teammates were reclining against the headboard, smothering my perky nipples in slobbery kisses and squeezing the softball-sized globes in their greedy paws.
I was anxious to relieve this built-up tension that was roiling the fluids in my pussy and I returned their fierce kisses on each face. Nearly trembling with erotic passion, and obviously overcome by stimulation (manmade and physical,) I was entirely open to sensual influence. The initial and exploratory step, was for the plainly more practiced girls to order me to remove my clothes. The barriers that had kept me chaste were being dismantled from outside and within. I would shake and sweat if being told to strip by a man. But the room was dark, the girls were friends and I had taken showers (though completely non-sexual,) with them before. Plus, I needed to know. I was bare-footed already with nothing left to lose but my tight jeans and baby-blue panties.
The fact that they "ordered" me to undress sparked a subconscious desire to follow instructions and I had stared at these thrilling and forbidden bodies many times. I secretly wanted and desired this. I laid back on the bed and arched my back, wriggling my tight pants over my wide hips and down my thighs. My legs were shaking and my grip on the rough denim was sweaty and unsure. The girls were demanding and ravenous, eager to get to my naked form. I had mixed emotions, offering my nude body to their hungry gaze and anxious to please these dominant predators.
They chided my meager efforts, sated on vodka and lust. "Hurry," they shouted in unison. "Get those pants off and show us your furry bush." The girls venom instantly reminded me that though I had showered with them on numerous occasions, I remembered now, that most of the women on the team bore trimmed or shaved pussies while my kinky hairs were full and bushy. Our eyes had grown accustomed to the darkened room and when my jeans were finally freed from my squirming legs, the thicket of wiry curls could be seen sprouting from the damp sides of my sopping blue undies. "Take those panties down so we can see that hairy cunt." I felt suddenly squeamish and immature, embarrassed by my lack of personal grooming. They didn't wait. Both girls attacked me like vampirinas.
My panties were stripped from my wiggling legs and their sharklike mouths devoured my sloppy cunt. They had no need to hold me down but their bodies hovered over me, lapping and licking at my exposed clit and dripping snatch. I was momentarily frightened by their lustful indulgence as they swarmed my genitals. Neither girl was shy. They pounced on my cunt with fingers and tongues delving into my virginal triangle. Hands worked like claws spreading my thighs, rubbing my tits, squeezing my plump ass and teasing the stiffened clit, that had never imagined such ferocious activity.
I was overwhelmed and easily and quickly succumbed to my destiny. the fear was replaced by elation as their clever manipulations brought me to, and over the brink of ecstasy. My climaxes rolled like a wave, triggering spasms of erotic pleasure that twisted my limbs and convulsed my internal organs until I was a mass of squirming, electrified exuberance. I learned instantly that my pussy was to be the center of my existence. They licked my cunt until I couldn't breathe and when my uncontrollable shaking and writhing finally left me limp, they fell back on the bed and shouted that it was my turn to please them.
Both women shucked their clothes like a snake shedding its skin. Jill was a blonde Amazon, toned and tanned. Katy was shorter, with a nearly flat chest and Irish complexion. But they were true lesbians and knew exactly what they wanted.
