Weeend of Sexual Surprises

March 30

Sometimes I think that I'm the horniest person in the world. People say that I'm a slut, a skank, and a nymphomaniac, all of which are all true, but the description I prefer is that I'm over-sexed. "Over-sexed" sounds less judgmental than "slut," don't you think? I really can't help what I am-- maybe I have a hormonal imbalance or something.

Some people think that since I'm a slut, I must be a wild and out-of-control teenager. I'm really not. I'm nice to people and I don't mouth off, I do my homework and get pretty good grades, and I get along with my parents. I have lots of friends, I'm kind to animals and I never fool around with married men. I don't lie, cheat, steal, smoke, do hard drugs, or drink too much, and I never drink and drive. I don't have piercings or tattoos.

I would be the perfect goody-two-shoes teen except for my one major vice. I fuck. I also screw, make love, fornicate, have sex, get laid, and other things like that. I love to fuck and be fucked, to suck and be sucked, lick and be licked, kiss and be kissed. Orgies, group sex, threesomes, and lots of just plain one-one-one sex. Lots.

I could have sex 24x7. Well, I'd have to sleep, eat, pee, that sort of thing. And brush my teeth. But you know what I mean. When I'm old and reminiscing about my youth, I'll have lots of great memories. Maybe I'll tell my grandchildren all about it.

I don't have a steady boyfriend because I'm not the monogamous type, but I have some fuck-buddies who I can depend on to do a good job when I need it. And I'm very safe with sex. I carefully take birth control pills and always make guys wear condoms-- every time. (With one exception – more about that later.)

People ask if my Mom and Dad know about what I do. They certainly don't think I'm a virgin. Mom helped me get birth control pills when I was 13 and nobody made the excuse that it was for my complexion.

I'm really pretty open with them and don't feel like I need to go overboard to hide what I do. I don't worry if a box of condoms is left out in the open in my room. I sometimes invite friends over for after-school sex in my room or the family room, and I'm sure my Mom notices that there are used condoms left in the wastebasket. And I'm sure she notices the cum-stains and pussy-juice stains on my sheets and on my sexy lingerie when she does the laundry. It's hard to put crotch-less panties in the washing machine without knowing what's going on.

They've seen sex toys lying around my room. I have sexy lingerie in my closet and pornographic DVDs on my bookshelf. My computer has a screen saver that's a close-up photo of a pussy with a hard cock in it. (Actually, the pussy is me, but I don't tell people that. I don't know who the cock is.) No need to hide what I am.

A few times, my parents have even walked into the room while I was being fucked. It was a little awkward and it freaked out the guys, especially when we were 14 years old. But I can't complain because I've walked in on them more than a few times too. It happens. BTW: Their favorite position is doggy-style too.

I don't tell them everything. They probably only know about 10% of what I do. The morning after a party, I might tell them I had sex, but I don't tell them it was with four different guys, not to mention the random dick or pussy that I sucked while I was getting pounded from behind.

My Dad worries a lot, and keeps reminding me to use condoms and avoid sketchy guys who might be violent. (I do.) I think Mom is secretly jealous. I don't tell them everything, partly because I don't want to worry them unnecessarily and partly because nobody wants to tell their parents everything. They worry, but deep down I think they trust my judgment. I really have my head screwed on pretty well.

It's different with my older brother Artie. We're very close and I tell him absolutely everything. Artie has been my closest friend, my protector, and my help-mate ever since we were little. When I was 6, he defended me on the playground at school. When I was ten, he took me around the neighborhood to sell Girl Scout cookies. When I was 12, he helped me with my math homework, and when I was 14 he drove me to the mall. When I started high-school, he put an end to the rumor-mongering about my sexual habits. And this year, he helped me look for colleges and study for the SAT test. I don't know what I'd do without him. I miss Artie terribly since he went away to college. We talk on the phone and email nearly every day, but it's not the same.

After I get laid, I love giving Artie all the details – who sucked my nipples, how my clit got licked, what the cocks looked like, how they felt, where they went, where the cum sprayed, and who was watching. I love telling him and he's a great listener. I told him when I had my first gang-bang, and when I set my record of ten orgasms in one day, and when my girlfriends and I gave each other golden showers Sometimes I think that half the fun of sex is telling Artie about it afterwards.

Artie's sex life is very different than mine. His is much more normal. He's a sophomore in college at an engineering school. (I'm still in high school.) He lives in the dorm. (I live at home.) There aren't many girls at an engineering school so he sometimes goes months without getting any action other than his own fist. I don't know how he stands it. If two or three days go by, I start going crazy. I can't remember the last time there was a week when I didn't have sex at least two or three times, not counting when I use my own fingers, and it's usually more.

The reason that I'm writing this down is that I want to record what happened this past weekend before I forget the details. It was the best weekend ever. It started out with Artie inviting me to visit him at college to celebrate my birthday.

My 18th birthday was last Wednesday. I knew that Mom and Dad had planned a small party for friends and relatives, but Artie wouldn't be able to come because his school is a 4-hour drive away. So he invited me to come up to visit him the weekend afterward. Sounded like a great idea, so we planned that I'd drive up after school Friday and come back Sunday afternoon. I would be able to stay in his room because Artie's roommate goes home every weekend to his parents' house.

Artie's roommate is named Walden, believe it or not. Artie doesn't like Walden. He thinks he's an "annoying tight-ass little prick." That's a quote. They've been feuding ever since the first day they were assigned to the same room, when Walden started complaining about everything Artie did – watching TV, studying late, not studying late, getting up early, getting up late, whatever. I've never met Walden, but I'm sure I wouldn't like him because I don't like annoying tight-ass little pricks either. It was good that Walden would be gone while I was there.

As the weekend grew closer, Artie asked me what I'd like to do to celebrate. I didn't have any ideas, but he did. He's a brother who knows me well. He offered me a "Weekend of Sexual Surprises." I was thrilled with the idea, but I didn't know exactly what he meant. I tried and tried to weasel some details out of him, but he wouldn't tell me anything. Every time I talked to Artie, he teased me about it, but he wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know.

I kept pressing him and finally he relented. He said he'd send me an email with some information. When I got home from school and checked my inbox, I found a message from Artie titled "Plans for your upcoming weekend." It was a photo filched from a porno web-site showing a prostitute with silicone tits, jungle-red lipstick, pancake makeup, and a 3-inch-thick black dildo up her ass. She was fake-screaming in pain, her jungle-red lips wide open. Artie can be such a wise-ass. I just love him.

Every day, I got a new email message, always titled "Plans for your upcoming weekend." One day, it was a link to a Craig's List ad from a "400-pound Big Beautiful Woman" who was offering domination services, complete with a photo of her in her underwear, with a face mask and a whip. Another day, it was a photo of a gross-looking guy, with shaved head and goatee, completely covered with tattoos of snakes and dragons and awful stuff like that, naked with a hard-on. Another day, it was an advertisement from a company that sold some sort of swing that suspended you from the ceiling, rotating and upside down, giving you "the most intense orgasms ever." Where does Artie get this stuff?

The funniest email of all was the one my brother sent me on the day of my birthday. It was an animated singing greeting card with a quartet of beavers singing Happy Birthday. One of them had ear-muffs on. There was a cat playing piano, and at the end of the song, a rooster walks by carrying a birthday cake. The rooster throws the cake into the air and dives into the cat's arms. It took me a few moments to figure out what was going on, then I laughed for ten minutes.

Artie had certainly worked up my anticipation of the special weekend. I couldn't wait. Finally, it was my birthday, and the big weekend was just a couple of days away.

The weeknight party with Mom and Dad was ok. My aunts and uncles and cousins came and we had a nice time. It was good to see my little cousins—they're so cute. I got some good presents including some much-needed cash. But I hadn't gotten laid since the last weekend and was anticipating the upcoming Sexual Surprises, so I was dying of horniness. I had to go hide out in the bathroom and give myself a quiet quickie. Twice. The guests must have wondered if I was ill. The party was a pleasant time, but nothing to match the upcoming weekend.

Thursday night, I packed a duffle bag. Artie wouldn't give me any hints for what clothes to bring, so I packed some regular clothes and some sexy stuff and, of course, some condoms and sex toys. I trimmed my beaver patch, plucked my eyebrows, painted my toenails, and masturbated myself to sleep. It wasn't easy to get to sleep.

Friday was a very long day. I was jumping out of my skin and had trouble concentrating on advanced algebra, world history, and Spanish IV. English was worst of all, but that's true most every school day. In art studio class, I had to keep myself from drawing pictures of cocks and pussies, but, to tell you the truth, that's also true most days.

As soon as school was out, I drove up to the campus and got there a little after dark. Artie took me to the dorm's cafeteria for dinner and we sat with a bunch of his friends. I didn't know what they knew and what they didn't about the surprises, but he introduced me as his sister and everybody acted pretty much normal. When it came time for dessert, Artie went back into the food line and brought back pieces of cake for everybody. He took a box of birthday candles out of his pocket and put one in each piece of cake and lit them. All the friends sang Happy Birthday. There were no beavers singing and no cock carrying a cake and no pussy playing a piano. It was very sweet. Artie is very sweet.

But "sweet" isn't what I was waiting for this weekend. Where was the sex?

I didn't have to wait long. We went back to the dorm and Artie handed me a robe, a towel, my toothbrush, and a bar of soap. He told me that I was going to want to be clean for what was coming, so I should go take a shower. I took off my clothes and put the robe on, and he showed me where the girls' bathroom was.

I turned on the water and got into the shower. It wasn't more than a minute before the shower curtain opened and there was a cute Chinese girl climbing into the shower with me. She had beautiful long hair, big brown nipples on A-size boobs, and a well-trimmed bush. There was a tattoo on her boob and another on her foot, and some sort of a clit-ring in her pussy. She introduced herself (I don't remember her name, and I'm not sure I could pronounce it anyway), and told me that Artie had sent her. Her accent was pretty thick so I wasn't sure of everything she was saying, but the overall message was clear. My brother had told her that I liked "sexual licking" and she would be helping me celebrate my birthday. My first Sexual Surprise!

She took the bar of soap and began washing my boobs, very slowly and carefully. She put her hands between my legs, putting her fingers inside and opening me up for the water to warm me, then she handed me the soap and asked me to wash her. As I washed her, she leaned forward and began to kiss me with big long kisses. She put my hand in her pussy and I felt the ring.

Then she went back to washing my boobs, and I moved my hands to hers. She carefully stroked each nipple with soapy fingers, and I reciprocated. We kissed again, and as I massaged her nipples, her kisses grew more urgent and our tongues worked together. Each stroke of my nipples sent of jolt of horniness straight to my clit. God, this was erotic!

Then she moved her hands from my boobs and broke off the kiss. She turned me around and washed my back with firm pressure. Then she moved gradually down my back, to my butt and carefully soaped and washed my asshole, and then, again, put her fingers inside my pussy.

It was a long shower. Finally, she turned off the water, and we toweled off and put on our robes. She took me by the hand and led me to Artie's room. Artie wasn't there.

Neither one of us said much. We took off our robes and she laid me down on the bed. She pulled a stack of silky scarves out from under the bed and tied one around each wrist. Then she kissed each finger individually, and tied the scarves to the bed. She repeated the process on my feet, kissing each toe and tying each foot to the bed. Then she went back to all four scarves and tightened then, and I was completely immobile. This was getting good.

Then she began to touch me and kiss me. She started with my ears, my nose, and my lips, running her fingers gently over my lips. She moved down to my neck and my chest and lingered for a long time, without touching my tits.

Finally she took a single finger and ran it over my nipple. She wetted her finger in her mouth and returned to the nipple, stoking it until it was as hard as it could be. Then she did the same thing on the other nipple until it was hard too. Finally she put her mouth to my tit, but instead of sucking, she gently licked, moving her tongue back and forth over the tip of each nipple. At long last, she began to suck them, lightly at first, then pulling hard on each nipple with her lips.

She resumed her journey down my body with her kisses, pausing at my hands and fingers, then my belly button, and my pubic hair and my thighs. Then she stopped, got up and removed the scarves that tied my feet. I was still held tight at my wrists, but now I could open my legs and pull up my knees, and she went between my legs. Then she got busy.

I'd been eaten before of course, and I'd fooled around with other girls and had threesomes with a guy and another girl, but this was my first experience with an authentic full-time lesbian. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. That girl knew what she was doing. She didn't come up for air for nearly half an hour.

She ran her tongue along the inside pussy lips without touching the clit, and put her tongue inside my vagina and massaged me there, firmly with a muscular tongue. After a long time, she moved down and licked my asshole, even putting her tongue a little inside. Nobody had ever done that to me before, and the sensation was electrifying. Finally she came back up and went to the clit, gently at first, then firmly and rhythmically, moving her tongue up and down. I was gasping for breath, moaning hard and pulling tightly at the scarves that held my hands. Then her wet finger went inside my asshole.

The finger inside my asshole threw my over the edge, and I came like I'd never cum before, with a screaming orgasm that went on and on till I thought it would never end. My butt bucked up and down on the bed, and my arms yanked against the scarves. I screamed, whimpered, and panted, but she held on tight, moving her tongue against my clit until the orgasm peaked and peaked and peaked again, then was finally over.

She let me rest for a little, and then licked me a little more, cleaning up my pussy juices. I closed my eyes and rested while she gently kissed my thighs, my stomach, my chest, and finally my neck and face. Then she rearranged herself, untied my wrists, and lay down next to me, and we kissed. The taste of pussy juice was strong on her lips. My breathing slowly returned to normal.

When I calmed down, I though I should offer to reciprocate, but she told me that wasn't necessary. Just as well. I'm not very good at muff diving and I imagine she knew that since I'm not a lesbian. We cuddled for a bit. Then she gave me a little kiss, wished me Happy Birthday, and left, taking her scarves with her.

I took me a while to recover my senses. For the longest time, I could barely move and I was suddenly exhausted. But eventually I got out of bed, put on my panties and nightgown and opened the door, looking for Artie.

Artie had a big smile and wanted to know if I'd enjoyed my surprise. I'm sure he was kidding, because nobody could have looked at me and doubted that I had enjoyed it. I'm sure everybody on the hallway had heard the screams.

I gave him a big hug and thanked him, and told him I'd give him the details in the morning. It was late and we were tired, so we curled up in the twin bed together and kissed, and I wondered if Artie could taste the pussy juice on my lips. As I was drifting off to sleep, I asked him one last question, "Did you every stick your tongue up a girl's ass?" Artie laughed and told me to go to sleep, which I quickly did. This weekend was off to a great start!

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It's getting late and I still have homework to do, so I'm going to have to stop writing. Come back in 3 or 4 days and I'll have had time to write down the rest of what happened. It's a helluva story.

BTW: I want to thank an editor who calls himself "sexforgirls" for giving me ideas on how to write this down. That's a great name, don't you think? Maybe I should change my name to "sexforboys" if that's not already taken.