I lost my virginity when I was 14. The man was much older, so much older that very few people could know about my sophisticated teenage sex life without trouble being started. It made me feel mature, but really he was just training me to be the whore I am today.
“I wish I had been him,” my husband said last night as he spread my legs into a wide split. My right foot was touching his feet and my left foot could have been in his mouth. He was laying on his side holding my left leg and watching as his hard dick penetrated my dirty pussy for the second time today. I hadn’t washed after the morning session.
My husband loves the fact that this older man was not just my first, but also my sex coach in many ways. The man taught me that being sexy for men was pleasurable for me.
I used to wear short skirts and bend over in front of random guys. The older man would strategically place himself so that he could see both my panties and the lucky guy’s reaction.
Once I was riding around in his car and wearing see-thru underwear. The older man had me lie down on his lap and spread my legs in the window so a trucker coming along side the car could get a lucky peep.
It was incredibly sexy and fun. I loved being the center of attention in that way. I think I loved being used for my body. There was something so wrong yet so natural about it all.
“It’s so wrong, but I’d love to be fucking you at 14, Stella,” my husband chanted. “I’d fuck that little school girl pussy and send you off to fuck your teenage boyfriends too. You’d tell me all about their dicks and your experiences. I’d train you to suck dick like a whore. All the boys would love you.”
My fingers are rubbing my clit. At first I’m not feeling very excited. His story bothers me a little. Is my husband attracted to young girls? I worry. Am I getting old? Will I not be sexy enough for him in the future? Do all men secretly want a little girl? These thoughts dampen my mood.
“I wouldn’t cum in you, though,” he continues as he pulls my legs even further apart. They’re at opposite ends of the earth now. My pussy feels open and inviting, almost too open like a gaping hole.
Am I tight enough for him? I’m not sure this position is working.
“I’d pull out and cum on you just like he did. Cumming in you would be taboo. I’d let your silly boyfriends do that.”
Something clicked and my body started to relax. My desire is building. I picture my sexy husband doing all of those things with me. He’s now the age the older man was when he took my virginity. Something about that turns me on.
I remember the older man’s body. His dick wasn’t as big as my husband’s. He wasn’t as handsome as my husband is either. He wasn’t the man my husband is in so many ways. But they have similar chests… the chests of strong middle age men with just a few grey hairs.
The strokes are getting deeper, faster, smoother. My clit is swollen and sensitive. I keep rubbing and thinking about age. The older man must be in his 60’s now.
My husband continues with his story. “I’d tell you what to do with your boyfriends, how to pleasure them. I’d know all about them, but they wouldn’t know about me.”
I’m 14 again in my cheerleading uniform. Short skirts, panties, trips to the woods to bend over and get a dick off. Good girl. Smiles. Over and over. A little whore in training.
My husband is the older man now. I’m his nymph, his innocent little girl, his Lolita, and he’s using me because he can. I think he loves me. In some ways he does. In some way he always will.
“But that pussy would belong to me, Stella, for the rest of your life. I’d own it. You couldn’t tell me no. I’d come get you and fuck you whenever I wanted it.”
My body finally gives in to the pleasure. My moans are low but rhythmic. That’s how my husband knows I’m close to climaxing. I start humping his dick, helping him touch my pleasure spots. When my moans get loud and full, the entire house can hear me cumming.
The older man never knew that, because he never pleasured me. I guess you could say he trained me well.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” my husband calls from the hallway. It’s 8:17am.
He’s bringing in my morning coffee on a platter. He serves it with a real silver spoon and with real cream and sugar. The coffee smells so divine.
“You actually let me sleep in this morning,” I tease.
“What can I say? I’ve been getting a lot of pussy lately, babe. What did you call me in your story? A fat cat? I guess you could say I’m good.”
He placed the tray down on his side of the bed and cuddled up behind me on my side.
“Scoot over,” he says as we snuggle into our preferred pretzel position. It’s basically spooning with our legs more intertwined. “Your body feels so good, my queen.” His words massage my neck.
He caresses my skin from my shoulder down into the depth of my waist and back up to my hip. I’ve never felt as loved as I do with him.
“I love you, my pussy queen.”
“I love you too, babe. I feel so relaxed.” Secure is probably the right word.
“Sex was incredible last night. I love you being my little teenage whore,” he whispers into my ear.
I smile. I loved it too. Secretly I want more. I can feel my body come to life. Warmth swirls in my crotch and up through my breasts. I guess he could feel it too. He squeezes my ample breasts from behind and sighs. We’re just connected that way.
Just then my husband got out of bed and took off his clothes. His eyes are seductive, his morning hard is at full attention.
I was still naked, of course. I hadn’t left the bed since our lovemaking last night. A little bit of yesterday’s cum seeped out of me last night. I smell like dick.. just the way he likes it. Maybe I like it too.
He pushed my legs apart. Like scissors, they opened as wide as they could considering I was still on my side with my hip facing up. He nudged the top leg towards my chest and gave my dirty pussy one sloppy lick to examine the moisture level.
My used pussy didn’t need any convincing. Whether she wanted it or not, she was already poised to suck the cum from his dick. It’s what she was made for. He greedily pushed himself into her gooey hole.
Divine. That’s how he felt inside of me again. His dick completes my body, fills my empty aching pussy perfectly. I think God made him for me and me for him. I’m starting to need him now. How is this possible? I don’t like needing men.
I keep my eyes closed while we works his magic. He moans and pumps and moans and pumps. Yesterday’s cum is my wetness and a little squeezes out each time his dick momentarily leaves me. He begins recounting last night’s story.
“God I wish I’d been that older man. I’d still be fucking you today. I wouldn’t care if you were married. This pussy would always be mine.” He’s pounding me harder. The juices are frothier. I think I’m in heaven. “The only difference is I’d give you more pleasure than any other man could, and I’d never pull out when I’m cumming. Never. You’re dirty little whore pussy drinks my cum now.”
He pumped one more time and exploded. We both froze to feel the release. It oozed inside of me, tickling my horny bone and replacing his hard dick. Yes, definitely heaven. His cum is what I need.
“God I love you.” I keep my body still to make sure his dick is fully satisfied.
“I love you, too.” He pulls out and lays by my side. A few moments pass. We catch our breaths.
“That’s three times without cleaning up, babe. My pussy really needs a bath!”
“O baby, just relax. Drink your coffee. Lay on your back.” He kisses my lips then gets up and slips his clothes back on. “I actually like it when you’re pussy is dirty. My cum is like your medicine. You are prettier, sexier and happier when it’s inside of you.”