****** Growing up as a Slut: 7 by Syndarella_Snowhite ******

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Growing up as a Slut: 7





"Is this story true? Are all my stories true?
Like Ripley said, you can 'believe it or not.'
If it were fiction I'd put a disclaimer here...."
-Wendy

My name is Wendy. I was a slut in my younger days, but I'm not now. I go online
to tell my story sometimes. I figure it's therapy for me, and if people get off
by living vicariously through my experiences, I'm glad to be of service.

I've discovered White Shadows stories, and have decided that this is a good
outlet for me.

As I wrote in my previous sessions, I was a real high school tramp. Then I went
off to college,

my first time away from home.

I was living with a mixed gender group of students in a rented house. I had a
weekend fling with one of the guys while his girlfriend was away, but I decided
to tone it down after that. I had to live there, so I didn't want too many
waves. I never had to live at my high school.

I was taking what was often referred to as a 'GASP' course package. That's
General Arts and Sciences Program. In essence it's what you take in college
when you don't know what to take in college. It gives you the education level
that you need on a resume without giving you any particular field. Yep;
Basically useless as far as real education goes, but a lot of it depends on
what you take out of it. I liked it. It was like a high school curriculum, just
more advanced...like going to 'grades 14, 15 and 16 '.

I was doing pretty well, I might add, and I was mindful of a lot of cute guys
that were in attendance. I made some casual female friends, which I'd never
truly had before, and with them I was introduced to the nightclub scene. I
found I loved to dance. Another way that I could be the center of attention,
but with no guilt afterwards. As it was, most guys never dance, so It was
usually me and a group of girls.

I still think it's funny how most of the guys stand around somber at the edge
of the dance floor, beer in hand trying to look cool, while all of the girls
are putting on a show for them. Like they are checking out which they want to
take home, like its some sort of contest. That was how I began to think of it,
as a competition and as a result I became known for my progressively
flirtatious dancing.

Now not all guys just stand around. Get enough beers into them and guys will
join in, and they often did. I sometimes found myself sandwiched between two or
more, and I obligingly pressed my gyrating body into theirs, keeping the rhythm
while my hands smoothed out my already snug clothes against my skin. I'd let
them do the smoothing if they were man enough, just as long as it seemed a
natural part of the dancing, and not just a poorly veiled way to cop a feel.

Usually I'd just leave with whatever group of friends I came with. It felt good
to leave the men wanting more, but from time to time, when my needs got the
better of me, I'd go home with a particularly charming dance partner. And I'd
treat him to a full-force sexual event, allowing my pent-up energies to be
released.

Occasionally I'd see guys I'd slept with at college, or I'd see guys from
college at the club, and let them take me home, but just as often I'd end up
with some older guy who had been at the bar, who was eager to get down with a
fresh faced college girl.

One of the nights at the club, they had a wet T-shirt contest. It was held in
the middle of winter, but the place had been done up in a Hawaiian motif for
the event. Wishful dreaming of warmer climes. I didn't need much alcohol or
prompting to get me up as a contestant, though I pretended to resist a bit.

There was a screened off area for contestants to change their shirts for one of
the complimentary ones provided. I was ushered in with the dozen or so other
daring amateurs. Then we were lined up on the raised dance floor that was
serving as a stage that night.

When the host came to me and began to pour the water over my shirt (the
complimentary cotton muscle-shirts were, the cheap kind that turn pretty much
transparent when wet of course.) I was shocked and gasped at how cold it was.
It contrasted sharply with the heat generated by all the bodies in the
building. I couldn't help but laugh as I caught my breath, but in the same
instant I looked down right into the face of one of the guys I recognized from
my college, and he was with a camera poised to snap a close up of my drenched
front.

I looked up and away, thrusting my chest out, but trying not to have my face in
the picture just as the flash went off. Not that I was embarrassed so much by a
picture being taken; there were plenty of flashes going on, but that it was
somebody I knew, and somebody who wold have a piece of physical evidence of me
for whatever reason. As much fun as I was having, my subconscious was still
wary of people having anything over me.

I didn't win the contest, but I got an honorable mention. (My breasts were
referred to as 'outstanding' by the host.) As soon as I'd gotten back into my
own shirt (and wrung the water out of my free shirt) I set about trying to find
the guy I knew who'd taken the close-up picture. It wasn't too hard; he found
me.

Well they found me. They were the Armstrong brothers. Not twins, but only a
year apart, and nearly identical. Both blond haired, brown eyed and built. They
were both on the football team.

"Nice going." Rob said, he shouted rather, over the noise of the now blaring
music, as the night club carried on with its usual night of partying. His
brother Ritch nodded in smug agreement.

"Glad you approve." I shouted back. He grinned a perfect grin, shaking his head
to indicate he hadn't heard me, and leaning forward. I repeated it for him,
shouting almost directly into his ear.

"You should have definitely won." Rob called into my ear pointing at my chest
and then tugging the peak of his baseball cap a bit lower on his brow as he
withdrew.

"Buy you a drink?" His brother Ritch said into my ear. Ritch had come around
and was standing behind me now, bumping into me a bit from the crush of the
people in the confined space.

"Actually I was thinking about taking off." I shouted back to him.

"You can't go yet!" Ritch pleaded with me, holding up his watch in the dimness.
"It's like only eleven thirty."

"Hey! Maybe she's Cinderella, man," Rob told his brother "Maybe she's got to be
back before midnight; before her great tits change back into pumpkins!" he
concluded laughing.

I swatted him playfully in the gut, and was startled to feel how solid his abs
were. I pushed past him, and he caught my arm.

"Wendy. I'm sorry. I meant it like a joke!" he shouted. "Like a compliment,
y'know...like a joking compliment...like ha-ha." he continued, in mock
desperation.

I turned and gave him a grin, and then tossed my head in a beckoning gesture as
I slipped from his grasp and deftly made my way through the crowd. The pair of
them came plowing through in my wake.

I ended up outside, the January night was cold and there were flurries coming
down. I never brought a coat, because the place didn't have a reliable coat-
check and I hated having to look after it. Rob came out right behind me. He
sent his younger brother back in to get their jackets.

"Cool night." he said, able to speak in a normal voice now. The silence was
almost deafening. I nodded. A Taxi pulled up and I went over to it.

"Hey, Wendy. Don't waste your money. We'll give you a lift." He suggested. I
gave him a hard stare.

"And you're sober?"

"Swear to fucking god." he said crossing his heart, pursing his lips trying not
to smile.

"Yeah, bull-shit." I told him, trying not to grin, but doing a miserable job.
Ritch came out with their jackets, handing one to his brother, handing his own
to me. I was cynical, I was jaded, but he just melted me with that simple
gesture. He smiled, pretending not to look cold, thrusting his stiff arms into
his pants pockets.

I asked Rob again if he was okay to drive. He nodded enthusiastically, so I
relented. We walked three blocks to where their expensive looking, shining,
black 4x4 was parked under a dusting of snow, and I knew then they weren't at
college on a football scholarship, or at least they didn't have to be.

What transpired next consisted of a relatively short drive, with me sitting
between them to a small-rise apartment building, and an invitation to come up
to their shared apartment. That tingling in my tummy told me what was going to
happen, and I agreed, finding it more and more difficult to keep up a decent
hard-to-get facade with these two splendidly built young men.

In the living room, Ritch flicked on their TV, and sat next to me on their
leather upholstered couch while Rob fixed up some Rye and Cokes. Soon after,
they were sitting on either side of me again, engaging in that inane chit-chat
that guys and gals do as their sex drives start revving up to the red line. The
kind of talk that is totally meaningless, where the brain spits out the first
simple question or response that it feels obliged to offer.

Finally the trigger statement happened...where the useless dialogue gets
replaced with a sexual innuendo that leads to blatant eroticism. In this case
it was Rob, who simply said, "what I wouldn't give to have another up-close
look at your tits."

"Give me the picture you took, and I'll let you see them right now." I
promised, looking him directly in the eye. He nodded his agreement vigorously.

"Sure thing, soon as it gets developed."

So, up-keeping my part of our hasty bargain, I undid the side-zipped shirt I
had on, and then lifted it off over my head. I hadn't worn a bra, so my breasts
were immediately exposed to their hungry eyes.

Rob reached out tentatively, and I gave him a subtle nod. He began to feel my
breasts while Ritch started to rub my thigh through my snug khakis. I leaned
forward to kiss Rob, while he squeezed both of my tits firmly over and over,
like he was afraid they'd vanish if he stopped stimulating them. While I was
leaning over, Ritch grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up so that I was on my
knees on the couch, bent over his older and slightly larger brother who had
laid back into a partial recline.

He then began to push his pelvis against my rear, dry-humping me doggie style,
grinding his hardened cock against me through our clothes. He reached his hands
around, feeling my tummy, and one of his hands massaging me between my legs.

Rob, who was laying back, undid his belt and let his cock spring free, tapping
it against my lips with a sneer. I swallowed it obediently, pushing my lips
tight together, and then forcing my head down onto his cock, making it plow
through into my mouth. My tongue did a slippery back and forth motion on the
underside of his shaft as I withdrew for another plunge.

Ritch, still grinding into me, was undoing my pants and then pulled them down
off my hips with tugging motions that made my lips nearly slide off his big
brother's dick. He was lowering them to my knees. He then took my panties down
as well, allowing him access to my shaved pussy. He forced his tongue into me
from behind, his nose snug between my ass cheeks.

The feel of his tongue probing into my folds was tingly, and I had to
concentrate on keeping my head bobbing on the hard cock in my mouth. Rob had
his palms on my cheeks, and he lifted his hips up to fuck my face slightly each
time I slid my lips down his slick shaft.

We hadn't been at it too long, before Rob hoarsely suggested we move. Ritch
picked me up in his arms and he carried me down a short hall to a bedroom, and
put me down on disheveled bed. I kicked off the clothes that were bunched
around my knees and then got on all fours again. Rob got under me, holding his
slick, hard, cock to my lips again, while his younger brother stripped off his
jeans and shirt.

"I'm gonna fuck her now." Ritch said, climbing onto the bed behind me. I raised
my hips up, arcing my back downward expectantly. He guided the head of his cock
between my hairless folds, and then held my hips firmly. He wasn't going to put
on a condom, and I wasn't in the mood to tell him. He thrust into my slick
pussy. I gasped around Rob's cock, and he simply pushed himself deeper into my
throat, running his hands through my hair.

"Yeah. Yeah," Ritch groaned to himself as he thrust in an out of me with a
stimulating, steady rhythm.

"Fuck her harder," Rob demanded savagely. I was being jolted by the hammering
thrusts now, making it difficult to keep sucking on Rob's cock.

"I'm gonna fuck her now too." The elder brother said, sliding down on his back,
pulling his cock out of my mouth. "You fuck her ass." he suggested wickedy.

"Unh-uh," I said. "No way." I'd had anal sex in highschool. I'd been talked
into it by a pencil-dicked boy, and I recalled a foggy dislike for it.

"Why not?" Rob said aghast. "You'll love it. I promise."

"No way," I repeated firmly, getting up, pulling away from Ritch's dick. "I
don't go for that."

"C'mon," Ritch said, disappointed that he'd had his pumping rhythm interrupted.
"Forget the anal thing, lets just fuck."

I got up off the bed, and Rob pulled me back down with one arm around my
abdomen. He held me against him with his heavily muscled arms.

"Let me go," I told him quietly and firmly.

"Wendy, relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I just don't want to see you go in a
bad mood that's all."

"You want to see me in a bad mood?" I warned him.

"C'mon. We were having a good time. I thought you were getting into it."

I didn't answer.

"C'mon. You were having a good time. Admit it. I bet you'd like anal sex if you
just tried it. It'd be real slow and gentle."

"I have tried it, and I didn't like it," I assured him.

"Yeah, but I bet you never tried double have you?"

"Double what?" I asked sullenly.

"Come on, lets just forget the anal stuff and just fuck. I'm fucking horny
here!" Ritch interjected stroking his raging boner.

"Y'know, ...both of us...in you...at the same time.." Rob continued in his
soothing tones "imagine what that would feel like honey."

"It'd fucking hurt, that's what," I said.

"The last girl didn't say that. She loved it." He replied.

"Then why don't you go give her a call." I suggested haughtily.

"Geez Wendy, we're not going to force you. If you wanna leave, fine." He said
in disgust, letting me go. "I just didn't think you were afraid to try new
things. Guess you're just a small town girl after all eh?"

I grabbed my pants and left the room. In the hall, Ritch came after me, his
cock down to quarter mast now.

"Sorry about that Wendy." he said. "You're so goddamned sexy, I guess my
brother figured you'd be into all sorts of stuff."

"Humpf." I replied, thrusting my left leg into my pants. Ritch reached over and
began to fondle my breasts casually. When I leaned against the wall for
balance, he kissed me and soon I was pressed against the wall with my arms
around his large torso. The necking stoked up a new passion and I felt his hand
probing down the front of my panties again. My own hand found his renewed hard-
on and I began to stroke it as he continued fingering my moistening pussy.

Moments later I was in Ritch's bedroom. He laid back on his bed and I mounted
him. I inserted his now raging boner and then I rode up and down on his cock
while he played with my tits. I massaged his large pecs with my palms,
swivelling my pelvis with every rise, and grinding my clit into his body every
time I came down. I was sighing sexily for him, and giving him an occasional
whimper.

We'd been at it for about five minutes when Rob came into the darkened room. I
felt his hands on my hips form behind, and he nuzzled my ear.

"I'm sorry I made you mad gorgeous." He whispered. "Sometimes I'm a dick head."
He admitted, as he reached around to softly knead my breasts. Ritch placed his
hands on my waist, helping me to ride him.

"Forgive me?" he asked in between kisses on the back of my neck.

In the throes of passion I nodded my head. He continued to kiss down my spine
as I ground my body on Ritch's cock. I was feeling so good that I even nodded
when he asked if I'd like to try out a new experience. He promised to stop if I
asked.

We waited while he got some lubricant, me just rocking slowly back and forth,
Ritch still buried to the hilt inside me. I was thinking that it still might
not be a good idea, but I was feeling pretty sexy, and I didn't want to pass up
a new experience after all. What would Christine think if I did?

Next thing I knew, I felt a cool sensation on my anus as Rob spread and worked
in a generous amount of some slick gel. He entered me slowly as promised. I
didn't feel pain so much as some mild discomfort. Of course I get mild
discomfort in some of the more bizarre sex positions I've tried out, so I
persevered.

He worked his whole length into me one slow inch at a time. He held it in me
for a few moments, and I continued to rock back and forth slowly. I was bent
over Ritch, and he took the opportunity to kiss me, as his brother slowly
pulled out of me, and then pushed himself back in again.

As he picked up a very slow tempo, I started to resume my own slow hip
movement, lifting myself off Ritch's throbbing cock and then sliding back down
onto it.

As we slowly picked up speed, the rhythm was always lopsided, and I found that
every second or third thrust really hurt, as I was coming down while Rob was
thrusting up into my ass. I found myself fucking the brothers harder just in
the interest of getting it over with, ignoring the stinging pain it was causing
me.

I must admit that aside from the slight pain and discomfort, the sensation of
being so full was indeed erotic. Even the pain was becoming numbed away to
nothing. Of course I decided then and there that there was no way I was going
to have enough anal intercourse in the future to become anywhere near
accustomed to it.

Rob came first, sending his jet of sperm up into my colon. When he pulled out,
I humped Ritch harder and faster until he too let himself go, exploding deep
inside me.

I used the bathroom to clean up, and helped myself to a quick shower. When I
emerged Rob went in, and then I called a cab. Rob was out and drying off by the
time the cab showed up. They both wanted me to spend the night, and Ritch was
especially convincing, but I left them anyway. My cab was waiting.

I saw the brothers around school, and I got together with Ritch a few more
times. We were almost like a couple for a while...except the bizarre threesome
we'd had on our first meeting kind of made it weird. Plus I knew he and his
brother were still teaming up on other girls. He denied it, but I knew it.

In addition to that, neither was particularly discreet about the sort of things
they'd done. While I wasn't singled out completely, among certain cliques at
the college, I was known as one of the 'dirty girls' for allowing myself to be
double teamed by the Armstrong brothers. None of the other football players
would touch me after that. Not a great loss in retrospect.

Incidentally, I did get that photo from the contest, though copies were made
and distributed for their friends' benefit. They even put it up on the college
student web site until I complained and had it taken off. At least it was
reassuring that a lot of people thought it wasn't even me, and that the
brothers were lying. I knew it was me, but it made it easier to deny and I was
glad I'd not smiled for the camera.

Overall the Armstrong brothers brought my opinion of the male gender down yet
another peg. And it was never that high to begin with. I was enjoying college
overall though, and I was really starting to feel like an adult woman. I got
myself a part time job in a nearby clothing store, and that gave me some extra
spending money.

I started to go home for a visit at least every few weekends. Christine and I
were always glad to get together. One weekend she had a big surprise. She told
me she was pregnant.


Write me?

syndarella_snowhite@hotmail.com