****** A Virgin's Lust for Life by Dave Justice ****** =============================================================================== A Virgin's Lust for Life The leaves swirled around my feet, bringing with them a cool breeze that started from God-knows where, and ended at my step. A red leaf crunched under my feet, momentarily disturbing the peaceful tranquillity that surrounded me as a blanket, hiding me in its nearly-tangible folds. Coldness ate through my skin, soaked my bones in its soft whisper of harmony. I was at one with my surroundings. It caressed me, softened me, soothed me, and in return, I accepted its graceful beauty and power, as few had done in centuries. People don't know what they are missing, so eaten up by every-day life. Peace was what everyone needed. Sweet, beautiful, lovely inner peace. It was shattered only by the knowledge that soon I would be living in that life, hurrying everywhere, trying to stay ahead, or at least trying to keep from falling behind. Struggling everyday with hundreds of different factors. But every time the thought came, I brushed it away hastily, instead embracing the cold and the wind and the peace. I tried to put it out of mind completely, but the thought was relentless. It itched at my mind like a gnat in my ear, frantically vying for attention. I eventually decided to let it hum. There was always the next week for pax. I had just graduated college, in the top 5% in the country. I was not proud, though. I could have done far better. My I.Q. was 164; they called me a genius. I didn't agree. I'd cheated a little on the I.Q. test anyway. Just a little. I had already known the answer to a couple of the problems. Those answers were told to me by someone else; I never figured them out myself. I felt sure that I could have, but it just didn't seem right to me. Don't get me wrong; I'm no goody-goody. I did my share of bad deeds. I smoked every now and then. Once in a great while I smoked marijuana. Only for the pleasure. I didn't want to get addicted to either, so I never did them more than once a month or so. I never drank. Once as a kid I'd had a taste of beer; it was horrible. I determined then to never drink liquor, except on dates, and then only the romance drinks: champagne, wine. That kind of thing. Once or twice I'd stolen something here and there, always watching my back. I think one of my exploits was worth 50 bucks or more. But it felt bad that I'd lied on my I.Q. test. I always prided myself on honesty. I was in Oregon. My aunt had died a few months earlier, and she'd left me some handsome prizes in her will. For one, she was a rich lady, and had given me $20,000 to finish college and start a life. She also left me her summer home in northern Oregon, and it was there I was making my rest. My graduation had been just three days earlier. I'd cried over my graduation. Some people, mostly the Guys, thought it completely unmanly, and they shunned me for a "pussy" and a "wimp". I didn't think so. I believed that crying and expressing emotion was just a sign of maturity. I guess some guys never grow up. Anyway, I'd gotten a flight and headed out ASAP. I wanted to relax. And relaxing I was. Walking out on the broken paved road back to my cabin, I was in heaven. I had always thought that heaven was what you wanted it to be. If I went to heaven, I would be right here in Oregon in an eternal fall, standing amidst beautifully colored falling leaves, bracing myself against an incessant wind that blew the coolness into my bones. I'd always preferred cold over hot. I had a rare skin condition. It was 50% thicker than average. I barely felt temperature changes unless I thought about it. Once, everyone around me was shivering with cold in a classroom whose heater had gone out. Suddenly I realized it was cold. I shrugged it off and concentrated on the problem at hand, trying to figure out how far light would be off course from its original course if it passed by Earth and extended another five light years. I had hit the question right on the nose. As I walked, my thoughts strained to my encounter in the town, two miles back. I'd been standing at a cashier, buying the groceries I'd need for the next few days, and suddenly I had heard, "Hi!" I'd turned, and before my eyes stood an angel. Well, it was a woman, actually, but she first struck me as heavenly. "I haven't seen you here in Fresh Falls, lately. Are you new here?" she asked. She was very short. She had a lithe appearance, accentuated by her slight, narrow form. She must have been 5'2", with the body to match. If I was to guess, she would have been around a 32-22-30. Her body wasn't a model's body, but her face made it so. It was whitish. Not white, but definitely light. I could tell that nature had not chosen her face to be completely white, but that was obvious to my eyes, and I knew her for an indoor person. Her lips were full. Not pouty, but definitely full. She did not wear make-up, that I could tell, but her lips were very red. Whether from the cold or from Fate, I couldn't tell. Her ears were small and petite, as was her nose. Her hair was dark red, short, and done up in an ordered, spiky fashion. Her face was clear, and gave no reflection of the light that shined on it from outside the store. Her voice was clear, and reflected a confidence that I knew must exist in a woman like that. But her eyes were what made me decide she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I couldn't find color in her eyes. Perhaps they were gray. They had that non- human look that appears sometimes. You just look into the person's eyes and think, "That's not natural," or you think, "That's strange." Nevertheless, her eyes were marvelous. I was rooted to her eyes. I almost missed a step looking at her sideways with awe. "No, I'm a visitor. From Minnesota. I just finished college, and my aunt left me a cabin here, so I decided to come here to relax." She eyed me up and down, as someone would eye a piece of meat, or a new car. "You must be Dan, then, huh? Dan Sorenson?" "That's me. You knew my aunt?" "No, I just know things," I grinned slightly, very much in control. I wanted to make a good impression. I raised my eyebrow in sardonic amusement, and she smiled and set her attention back to her groceries. I thought I had messed up somehow, but, not wanted to show my disappointment, I smiled fully and took her example, paying the grocer for the products: cheese, ham, a loaf of bread, eggs, a whole lot of cereal, and a turkey roast. But my disappointment was quelled as she spoke again outside the store, sneaking up on me as I stood waiting for the wind. "You know, I don't believe in hiding my feelings," she said. Raising the corners of my mouth and narrowing my eyes slightly, I suggest that she explain herself. My answer came quickly. "I think you're real good-looking, Dan." I wasn't surprised. I'd always thought I looked pretty good. I wasn't a strong man. I found no satisfaction in being strong. It gave the impression that my brain was housed in my biceps, and that wasn't what I wanted people to think. I was not the true fashion of a man, all duty and honor and muscles and jealousy. If a man looked twice at another's wife, an epic battle broke out, probably involving broken beer bottles and hollow insults regarding the other man's mother and a male goat. I always liked to look at things from all points of view. Thus I could see why men were such idiots. So I didn't want to be like them. I wore a loose shirt. Fate had blessed me with a good body, all symmetrical, with broad shoulders despite my hatred of "real men." My job, though, was mildly straining, and kept my muscles from winking out of existence. One might call me a strong man, until they saw me without my shirt. I wore loose fitting white cargo pants. They looked good on me, with my short, brown-blonde, curly hair, and my long, symmetrical face. My shirt was stylish, but my hair had not been combed that morning, and had besides been tussled around in the wind during my trip to town. What surprised me was that she would come right out and say that. Not many women I met would admit that freely. So I decided to return the favor. Poetically, of course. "And you bring to me the sensation of warmth in such a cold desert. Which means I think you look damn good, too." She laughed once, slightly increasing the ever-present smile on her face. She inhaled deeply on a rising gust, pressing her breasts out in front of her. I knew it was intentional. Her smallish breasts looked bigger and firmer at the moment, about a 34-C. Now, since this is a porno story, I think it should be noted right now, that I was not, at the time, a virgin. As a junior, I'd experimented with a girl who could have had a better boyfriend than I, but who liked to remain inconspicuous. She didn't want to be gossiped about. I was not exactly a popular person, being too absorbed in my studies. She was actually quite bright, and I, admiring intelligence, took a shine to her. We made love once. She was kind of loose, though, and not very good. I immediately didn't like sex much. I knew it was good, during the moment. But there were a lot of different things to think about. I didn't want those things clogging my mind. I wanted a good education so I could lead the good life after I graduated from college. Sacrifice ten years of fun in school for fun the rest of your life. Now, as she inhaled and displayed herself to my view, I suddenly felt the man's instincts emerge again. "Smells good, doesn't it?" she said when she had done exhaling. I smirked and drew a deep breath, thrusting out my chest in a mockery of womanly seduction, tossing my head back to accentuate my imaginary breasts, rubbing my chest slowly as I let the breath out. As I opened my eyes again, she was laughing softly, staring up at me with amusement. I nodded and gestured with my eyes in a way as to continue my little skit, my mockery of womanhood. And thus it had run. Her name was Krystal Serinda, and she was from Wisconsin. We fell into a deep conversation, traversing everything from the growing problem of The Land Before Time movies to how many cheerios one could fit in one's mouth. She decided to try it, and lifted her bag. I noted it was filled with cereal of every kind. Frosted Flakes, Peanut Butter Puffs, Lucky Charms. As it turned out, she could fit 31 cheerios into her mouth, and I could fit 37. We had a big laugh over that, and the idiots that thought we were insane as they passed us on the street. We eventually made it to her house, an old-looking Victorian. It didn't look overwhelmingly big, probably six rooms, three bathrooms. It looked as though it had stood for three hundred years. She said it was the first house to have been built in the town, and took great pride in it. Her last words to me were said with a casual glance again at my body: "We should get together some time. Like I said, you're not bad-looking." So as I reflected upon our meeting, it seemed to me that I had made a very good impression. I'd had to try, though. I was best with women when I wasn't trying, but her face, and her eyes... they made me nervous. I knew that was dumb, my manly thoughts thinking she'd hate me if I stumbled or said the wrong thing. Women were just like men, in most respects. But this woman was unlike any other beyond the physical things. I suddenly realized I had arrived at the cabin. I'd not noticed the calm at all thinking of Krystal. Cursing myself inwardly, I threw open the door and stepped inside. There was no rush of warmth; I hadn't set the heater. It was the first thing I did. For some reason, I wanted to be warm that night. I hurriedly cooked some eggs and ham, slapped them on a piece of toast, and hurried up the stairs to my room. It wasn't a room, really. The cabin was strangely made: The front door entered into the living room, which had no wall or obstruction from looking right into the kitchen. The kitchen bordered on the bathroom, on top of which was the bedroom, which was just the roof of the bathroom with a rail around it and a think staircase going up to it. I had placed a largish TV and an expensive couch in the living room, along with some plants and elegant lamps. My room was furnished with my computer and a queen sized water bed. I could live like that my whole life; I had cable and the Internet. What more could I guy want? Well, I went upstairs to find my dog, Mutt, curled up on the bed, asleep, oblivious to the gently rolling motion he made with his breath. His name was Mutt, yet he wasn't. He was a pure bred German Shepherd, big and strong, and looked strangely out of place on the well- made water bed. I smiled and went to my computer. I had been typing a novel for quite some time, and was nearing the climax. I was once again excited to pick up the story-line. The hours rolled on, seeming only a few minutes. Just as the hero raised his sword high to strike, opening his body to the enemy's in self-sacrifice, there was a knock at the door. Scowling to myself, I stood, saved my work, surprised to find I'd typed eleven pages in three hours, I stepped down the ladder. The knock came again. Noting with some surprise at the darkness outside, I stepped to the door and flung it open. The sight took my breath away. Krystal stood there, her fist raised in preparation of another knock, her mouth twisting into a dark-eyed scowl. She was adorned with make-up, greatly enhancing her already striking features. Her gown was of dark blue satin, and came down to her ankles. It did not reveal more than her shoulders, arms, and pale, high-heeled feet, but it shaped itself to her body. Somehow, she looked far more shapely than she had earlier in her loose blue jeans and tight fitting tank-top. Her legs...I didn't need to see them to know they were good legs. Shapely. Thin. Muscular. Her frown vanished as soon as she saw me, looking even more rough than I had during the day. My face had erupted in a dark stubble since the previous night, and my hair had not been combed for days. Upon seeing me, though, the deepest smile I could imagine on that thin face broke it apart, her teeth white as pure light, stark against her red lips. "Krystal! I didn't think to find you here!" I stammered, far more disoriented than before. She seemed not to notice, though. "Well," she said in that beautiful musical voice. "I realized I hadn't set a time for our date. So I decided tonight would be fine. Besides," she said, swinging her arms and grinning. "I thought I wanted to see you without you being so fancied up." I laughed in spite of me. My thoughts slipped past me, though. Past her. Past her dress. I thought that perhaps she had come for something other than food and talk... No! I didn't want to think like that. Maybe I'd make a fool of myself. I had always been a cautious man, never taking risks. If I thought like that, perhaps I'd be shunned. Of course, it was what I wanted, but was it what she wanted? If not, then I'd be dumped. If so, then there was no hurt in waiting to confirm it. That settled, I decided to wait. Suddenly remembering my manners, I hurriedly invited her in, muttering something about the way she looked. I think it might have been, "You look fabulous!" She gave me a grin, and entered. Shutting the door behind her, I let her stand there, basking in the warmth. She swung her arms back and forth and looked around, taking in the simpleness. I tried to start a conversation, but she answered my question and turned away, towards the kitchen. "So what do you want to do on our first date?" she asked. "Sit and watch TV, or just sit and talk." "Whichever." "No no. You choose. I'm so picky." I grinned. "Let's chat, then." Grinning, she turned lithely towards the sofa. I had a look at her ass as she walked. She obviously wanted me looking at it. It rocked and swayed in a perfect little promenade across the wooden floor. Inhaling deeply, I joined her on the couch quickly, before she could ask if I was coming. And so we settled into a peaceful conversation, across the couch from each other. All the while, she was looking at me with a little grin on her lovely face. I didn't know if it was suggestive or preventive, but it persisted. I did most of the talking. She just sat and stared at me. Or through me, as the case may be. Suddenly, we came to a dead end. I couldn't think of anything else to say. She just sat there, staring at me, as I racked my brain for something to say to her, to keep it going. I didn't want her to leave. I was a free man. I could play out my desires as I felt, now that my schooling was behind me. But that may not be her intention, I thought again. Pushing the thought from my mind again, I regarded her in silence. For a moment, we just sat there, staring at one another. Abruptly, she sidled closer to me. I still didn't wasn't completely convinced she wanted sex, but my barriers were beginning to break. Maybe she just wants to cuddle, and kiss a little. She stared up at me now, not from across the couch. She was perhaps a foot away from me. My mind raced. I need something to say! Then the unthinkable happened. I put my lips to hers and kissed. I had no idea where it came from or what brought it about, but to my slight amazement, she didn't flee. She didn't move her head back in disgust. She didn't even move, I realized. I pulled back and regarded her with a suggestive look. Her face wore a wide grin, no longer suggestive, but whispering, urging. My body set, my mind convinced, I leaned forward into her waiting lips and kissed her. Her warm tongue sliding into my mouth was startling, at first, but easy to manipulate. I pushed it into her mouth with my tongue, then retreated back into my mouth at her advance. It reminded me of war. After a few minutes of just straight kissing, she leaned into me, pressing me back, back, back, until she was lying on top of me, still kissing passionately. She began writhing back and forth in an erratic way, sliding her now ample breasts on my broad, but weak, chest. My erection had just begun at that. My arms were already around her, and I pressed her against my body more firmly, increasing the pressure on her breasts, making them seem even larger. Her hands were on my chest, caressing, molding, kneading. My passion shut out all else. It was no where near love. Just passion. It was like that song, "What's Love Got To Do With It?" My sexuality bubbled and churned, which had lain dormant for a decade. Oh, yes, I heated my sexuality occasionally with a jack and a crack, but I hadn't wanted a physical relationship with another person; the bubbling would disrupt my education. Suddenly she broke my grip. She was strong, for a woman. I would have been hard pressed to beat her in an arm-wrestle. She sat back, slowly, gazing at me with wanting, needing eyes, her lips slightly parted. She sat back on her heels, in front of me, and slowly slid her arms behind her. I sat up facing her, one leg on the floor, the other beneath me. I heard the zipper on her dress slide down with a wonderful sounding "zzzzzzzzzzz", and I watched her pull the spaghetti straps down over her shoulder. The dress was still on for two reasons: Her breasts were huge, by now, and the dress hung on them as though falling would lose it its existence. Two, because the dress was so tight. Her fully erect nipples poked out the fabric, jutting out a good half inch. She grinned slightly, and held her arms out to the side, submitting to my touch. I went to work instantly. I slid the dress down over her bosom slowly, ever slowly, until at last, the fabric loosened its tight hold and slid down to her waist. She was topless before me, arms splayed out in glorious submittal. Her nipples were huge and dark, contrasted with the nipple that poked out at me as if mocking me. Her breasts seemed to defy gravity; they were suspended strait out, firm and round and perfect in every way, if still a little small, for being completely erect. Sighing softly to myself, I lowered myself to her nipple and began to tease it with my tongue. I imagined how it would feel if I were a woman, and I responded accordingly.. Apparently, I was doing well, for I heard her soft moans from above, exciting me to no end. Backing off the nipple, I waited for her to show a sign of confusion. When she did, lowering her arms and her head to look at me, I plunged my mouth down on her tit and sucked in as much as I possibly could. A grunt from her said that it was appreciated. I sucked for about a minute, then I changed tits, repeating my performance, all except for keeping her in suspense for a few seconds. Finally, she tired of that, and grabbed the sides of my head, pushing me off. She slid down the couch, so she lay in a horizontal position under me. Closing her eyes, she drew my head to her stomach just below her breasts. I removed her arms from my head and began to move down her beautiful stomach. It was firm and shapely, a slight bump at the belly-button indicating muscle, not fat. I estimated she had about 11% body fat. She might have been an indoor person, but she was not lazy. I continued kissing, licking, stroking and sucking my way down her gorgeous body, drawing the material with me as I went, until I exposed the object of my desires. Grinning slightly to myself, I got up long enough to draw the dress down her legs and off her completely. I didn't want her high-heels hitting me, either, so I took them off. Her eyes kept shut the whole time, her chest rising and falling slowly and violently. She was now stark naked for my eyes to behold. More curvaceous than I had thought, I thought to myself. Her spread legs, one resting at the time, on the ground, and one on the couch back, were far more beautiful than I had estimated. I could not see one blemish, not one mole, not a freckle, not a mismatched pore on her entire body, except for one on her neck, right below the jawline. That was small, anyway, and just emphasized her beauty. How could I have been this lucky?? Her breathing stopped suddenly, her eyes coming open to stare at me in reproach, as if saying, ""Well?" I grinned deeply, and knelt back down at the couch between her legs. I slid my tongue over her beautifully shaven pussy. She flinched slightly at the contact, and began to breathe more heavily. I increased my tease to a lick, up from the crack of her ass to her belly-button, slow and deliberate, like a dog. She began to grind her pussy into my tongue, urging for more. So I left my slow pace and entered a quicker pace, teasing only her slit-area, occasionally slipping my tongue into her hole. I had never eaten pussy before. I knew not what to expect. The aroma that pulsated from her quivering hole intoxicated me rather than repelled me. It smelled of female. It smelled of love, and pleasure, and a whole mess of other emotions. It didn't taste too bad, either. It wasn't something I'd drink in a glass, but somehow the raw sexuality and the novelty of tongue-fucking an absolutely gorgeous woman drove me on. Her breathing quickened and her moans increased in volume and rapidity. I increased my rhythm to accompany. I looked up at her face. It was blank, her lips slightly parted, her eyes loosely shut. She was absent-mindedly playing with her nipples, pinching them and jerking them around. The sight made me increase more. Suddenly her hips bucked and thrashed in the throes of climax. Angered, I grabbed on and held her in place as best as I could, continuing with my ministrations. It somehow came to me that it might be pleasurable to want to buck and jerk every which way, while being held in one place. I knew she appreciated it. As her orgasm subsided, her juice flowing out of her pussy and staining my sofa, she turned and lay back, sitting on the couch as though she were fully clothed. Her breathing slowed, she regained control. I didn't want to do anything quick. So I lay there and wait for her suggestion that we continue. It was five minutes before anything else happened. She suddenly jerked her head around to me, having found her breath, and smiled evilly. She practically dove at my pants, and began to undo them. She knelt on the couch beside me, her elbows holding her up, all attention rooted to the bulge in my pants. I decided to save some trouble, and took off my shirt and kicked off my shoes. Suddenly I realized why I had wanted it warm. I had known somehow this would happen. It was still kind of cold, despite the cabin's size and very good heater. She didn't begin as I was revealed. She instead pulled my pants completely off and peeled off my socks. She apparently was as turned on about complete nudity as I was. That done, she turned to my tool, now its full six inches long and one-and-a-half thick. Kneeling between my legs, she took it in both hands, and caressed it lovingly, smiling down at it as though the man attached to it did not exist. Then she slowly took the head in her mouth, and began to suck it gingerly, teasing it with her tongue. Oh, but it felt good. It felt far better than simple sex had, as far as I remembered. But time has a way of dulling events. Perhaps this is only foreplay compared to sex. Pausing for a moment, she abruptly jammed the thing as far into her mouth as it could go, leaving about two inches left outside her mouth. Her mouth was stretched to the limit, leaving no room left for a pin. Undaunted, she worked it further in, until she choked on its bulk. I was about to retrieve my tool from her throat, but she relentlessly jammed it back in. She couldn't get it past a certain point. Giving a slight shrug, she began to thrust it in and out of her mouth and throat violently, holding onto the part at the base that she could not fit in. The sensations; OH!! The tongue gliding up and down below, the tightness, the obvious difficulty with which she was trying to keep from gagging and choking. I would not last long. And last long I did not. When I felt the orgasm begin to rise, I gasped, "I'm... going... to cum!" Suddenly her sucking stopped. She pulled my bulging, pulsating cock from her widened mouth, and looked off into space, seemingly contemplating something. After a moment, my orgasm began to subside, and she put a determined look on her face and closed her eyes. Suddenly jamming me into her lovely mouth, she began to work ever harder, far harder than before. It only took me about three seconds to start. With a buck, a spurt of cum splashed into her mouth, the second right after, and the third, and the fourth. She tried to swallow it all, and my dick along with it, but a lot dribbled from her mouth down my spurting cock, and nestled in my pubic hair, and rolled down my balls to drip onto my ass crack. After a moment, cum leaking down my cock on all sides and down her mouth and chin, she pulled her head from my rapidly shrinking cock, and a small strand of cum lifted itself from her mouth to my cock. It snapped and fell half onto my cock, half onto her chin. Breathing hard herself, I noticed that she had been fingering herself as the procedure carried on, and her cum was settled in a small pool on the wood floor. I regarded her as one regards his new puppy, and took her hand into my arms. I dared not kiss her; I didn't want to eat my own cum. But she looked at me fondly and lovingly, a daughter looking up to her beloved father, a woman to a great leader. I smiled widely, trying to control my breathing. "Well, that was an adventure!" I said, sighing. Her face broke from her girlish grin to a look of surprise. "It's not over yet!" she said matter-of-factly, as though she were informing me that water was wet. Turning a confused look to her, I stated that I was spent, that I couldn't be used again. A man's balls held only a certain amount of cum. Her look changed to anger. "I came here for a good cock, and I'm going to leave having had a good cock, cum or no cum!" Her voice softened and took on a pleading quality. "Besides," she started. "I'm a virgin." "Huh???" I said stupidly. "No! Not you! How could someone like you stay a virgin?" She smiled sweetly at me and gave me the simple answer. "I never wanted sex. I saw it as insignificant. It isn't the purpose in life. Now I see that it's just a good thing to have; it lightens life's burdens." I had to agree. I didn't know if she'd had more pleasure than I, but I could doubt it. "I want this night to be special, Dan. And you're going to make it special!" she said, the latter part coming out harshly, as a command. I smiled widely. "If you can get me hard again, we can go at it. If you want this to be special, then special it shall be!" Grinning, she grabbed my limp cock. She didn't seem to mind the cum that oozed over her hand. She pumped it, and pumped it, for five minutes or more, but it was no use. When I was spent, I was spent. Scowling, she stood up and spread her legs before me. Grinning evilly, she worked one hand on her left nipple and the other hand on her pussy. It was quite an erotic show. I tried to think about it, what I'd do to her, and to my amazement, my dick began to harden again. Seeing this, she dove for it, downing it again into her mouth, until I was fully hard again. She smiled and grabbed it in one hand, and dragged me to my feet by my dick. She pulled my across the room, her beautiful legs and ass swaying hypnotically in front of me. She climbed the stairs with her hand still grasped strongly around my cock. When she reached the top, she let go, and wandered to the bed. Smiling at Mutt, she woke him and pushed him off. Awake, he stood on the ground, sniffing the air absently. Krystal lay down on the water-bed, sending a wave along the bed, raising and lowering her hypnotically, she lay on the bed, arms holding open her legs. Then, as an afterthought, she got up on her elbows and knees and stayed there, ass displayed up into the air for me to see. It was truly a gorgeous ass. Suddenly I realized what she waited for. I just wanted to watch her. She was breathing hard, breasts hanging down in front of her like oranges in a sack. A very lithe, beautiful sack. Her body trembled all over, in anticipation or cold, I didn't know. It is kind of chilly up here, isn't it? I thought. I stood back, absently stroking my dick to keep it hard, and observing her. She was just gorgeous. Maybe, if things go well, I might marry her. We seemed to get along well enough together. Or maybe we didn't fight enough for marriage. Then her breathing stopped, her eyes opened, looking sidelong at me, urging, needing, miserable. I made haste in sliding behind her and putting my cock against the opening of her virgin pussy. I had heard that virgins feel intense pain upon their first time, the Popping of the Cherry or something. Whether it was true or not was indeterminable, to me. Whether she knew it or not, I didn't know. I didn't want to ask, because she might leave. But that would be inhumane. But she had asked for it, unless she didn't know what was in store for her. She had to have it sometime, no one escaped sex for their entire lives. Better to get it over with now. I reasoned for a good five minutes. More than once she asked me to hurry up and fuck her brains out, what the Hell was I waiting for? I came to the conclusion that she asked for, it was her fault. Shuddering with anticipation, I lay my body weight over hers, lying on top of her like a dog. Having to support more body weight meant increasing her tenseness, and thus her pleasure. Besides, it could be of hard holding up himself with all that. "Ready?" I asked softly. A shudder answered my question; I thrust. Hard. Violently. Her gasp was a gasp not of surprise of pain, but of the realization of the underestimate of the pain. Nevertheless, she gasped. There was no pleasure in the gasp, only the pain. She buried her face in my pillow, apparently to bite it and accept the pain. I held there, in the middle of my thrust, for a moment, tense, ready to thrust again. And thrust again I did. A second, and third, faster and faster. On the fourth thrust, she began to scream into my pillow, not a full scream, but a jerky yelp of pain. It seemed almost as if she was going to ask me to stop. By the time I was fucking her outright, her scream had stopped, replaced by a soft sob, shuddering with tears, wetting my pillow. I felt bad for her, in a way, but at the same time, a raw, animal lust was entering me. My thinking blurred, my reason clouded. I Thought only of my own pleasure. So what if this bitch was feeling pain, or if she ripped open? I wanted my thrill and that was it. If I needed sacrifice to get off, she was as good as any other. Abruptly, a scratching sensation appeared on my shoulders. Wondering what on Earth it could be, I began to turn my head, before I felt a slimy, wettish thing brushing up against my exposed asshole. Suddenly I knew what was happening. "Mutt!" I tried to shake the dog off, but prone as I was, I wasn't able to under the weight of the great German shepherd. I battled frantically, my fucks on Krystal stopping, until I felt that thing enter me. At first it was a small little nub, just parting my asshole. Then the thought skimmed through my mind that I was going to be Mutt's bitch just before the rest slammed into my ass. The pain! It felt as though my ass were being split wide open. My ass muscles clenched tightly, trying to prevent the German Shepherd access, but the dog was strong, and my last defenses were shattered. The pain, and the pain. It was all I could think about. My scream was one I had promised myself from when that small nub entered that I would not utter. It rang out, echoed against the walls, and came back to me. My scream was prolonged. The pain would not subside. He kept plunging deeper and deeper into my bowels, shoving back the pent-up shit, compressing it, pushing it back where it came from. And more dick came. And more. It seemed I had a foot of dog dick in my ass, and three inches wide, pounding it like there was no tomorrow, bang, bang, bangbangbangbangbang. Dogs are strong. And endurant. And huge cocked, for the most part. My cries, my angry shouts at Mutt to get the Hell off were silenced as the dog's knot, probably the size of a tennis ball slid past my already swollen asshole. That knot would keep him in place for a good twenty minutes or more. I could do nothing but kneel over Krystal with my eyes as big as coasters, such was the pain. I was in for it. For as long as the dog could stand it, I was his. Destined that day to be a dog's bitch. Apparently, Mutt was accustomed to this kind of behavior from his old masters (they'd been hicks, so I didn't dwell long on the thought). He'd smelled the female, and my cum, and come to investigate. Stupid!! I thought. Why didn't I figure out why he was sniffing around??? And yet, the pain gradually turned to pleasure. The shit out of the way, my asshole swelled to its widest, the cock was free. Free to fuck. And it felt rather good - the dick, spreading my ass cheeks apart. I felt, for the first time, truly kinky, knowing I was enjoying this dog's cock in my asshole. I was filled again by raw sexuality, and I turned back to look at Krystal. She needed to be fucked. She was staring at me in a kind of amusement, and relief at being free, for the moment, from my torture. Sneering at her, I thrust back into her with a dick that had grown, given this new arousal in my butt. I was now an easy seven inches long and two inches wide. The new invasion of her pussy was more pain, more pleasure. She buried her face again in my pillow and screamed, turning back into tears. As I fucked, a warm liquid began to pour down my legs and her legs. I knew it for what it was: blood. So the Breaking of The Cherry was a true legend, after all. I knew I'd have a mess to clean up afterwards, but that seemed ok. It was only the first time. And having Mutt around was an added bonus. At first, the dick in my ass would have seemed to quell the feelings in mine, but instead it enhanced it. It felt far better, but it seemed that the dick in my ass was the foundation for the new pleasure. It was a completely different pleasure. Cumming from my dick would only be an after-thought, a side dish. It would be the butter on the bread, icing on the cake. It wasn't important. I felt the beginnings of my climax start, and, clutching the last sense I had, exited Krystal. She looked back at me questioningly, and, seeing my face, understood. She abruptly thrust her head back into my pillow and jerked her whole body back onto my cock, burying me inside her again. I took the hint. Mutt still impaling me quicker than the average human could, I fucked Krystal as hard as I could, and as fast. My climax started only seconds later. A wave of hot cum splashed into Krystal's violated, swollen pussy, and jetted through her like a fire hose. A second wave, and a third, a fourth, a fifth. I was amazed I had that much cum, from the first orgasm of the night, of course, added to this. My semen was searching her, all over her insides for the egg, to be allowed to impregnate her and send the Sorenson seed through another generation. I suddenly realized I had done something stupid. She could be impregnated, and then life would be Hell. But wrapped in Sexuality, I didn't care. This was now, and now was as important as a long time from now. I milked my sore, swollen dick for everything it had, the cum continuing after my dick began to soften. Seconds later, my rectum filled with a liquid, creamy and thick. I knew that Mutt had cum inside me. The cum filled my innards, searching for the canine egg it would never find, until the semen just settled where it was.. Some cum seeped out between the cock and my asshole, running down my legs and Mutt's dick. A lot of cum it was, too. And so much more inside me. I could probably have filled a quarter of a pint with what he spurted. At least it was over; I could get back to heterosex. But it wasn't over! Mutt's cock didn't soften, his huge knot didn't let up its sliding. He just kept right on pounding my ass as though nothing had happened. I realized that this would keep up for the duration of the time it took for his knot to lessen in size enough for him to pull out. Krystal crawled out from under me and sat back on the pillow, drying tears of pain with cum stained hands. Her beautiful white legs were stained red with still-fresh blood from her broken virginity. She seemed not to notice. She watched Mutt fuck me with amusement on her face, seeing her captor become the prisoner, the man become the bitch. At that moment, as if to remind me, Mutt shot his second load into my ass, further filling it. More cum splattered out, now not as an intermittent drizzle, but a steady stream down my ass and legs and his dick. Krystal looked under me - I presumed at my dick - and crawled under, head first. I thought she was going to try to suck my dick. Pointless, I thought. I'm spent. Her ass protruded from under me just below my face. I kissed the left cheek gently; she jumped, but not in pleasure. Her attention was on something else, and not my cock or me eating her ass out. I looked under me, past her gorgeous, firm, blood-and-cum soaked body, and saw her doing an incredible thing: She was licking up the dog's cum that had just been in my ass. The novelty of it! A woman who'd just lost her virginity, and who'd just given her first blowjob, was already kinky enough to lick a dog's cum that had been in a man's ass. There she knelt, the blood of lost maidenhood staining her legs, as well as my cum (which, by now, was all over), her beautiful ass right under my nose, and she was licking up dog's cum. The sight, just the thought of it, though it was impossible, began to harden my cock again. Pulling back, she saw this, and backed out from underneath me. Then she backed right back under, feet first. She twisted her head around to kiss me, and I did, until I realized that she still had dog cum in her mouth. I tasted it. It was salty, and had a strange taste to it. It was not repugnant, exactly, but it was disgusting. A male dog's cum. It was an outrage! Furious and wrapped in Sexuality more fully than I'd ever been wrapped in anything before, I guided my cock over her pussy, to her asshole. She never felt it coming, and within the space of one second, my dick was in her asshole all the way to the hilt, and she was screaming outright, a shrill note of pure, lovely pain. Heedless, I pumped my hardened cock into her expanding asshole almost as fast as Mutt drove his prick into my ass. She did not fight back, though. She was either enjoying it, or she was smart enough to know that she was in no position to fight. I suspected the former, because her cries were tinged with excitement. Half hoping I ripped her ass open (just to hear her screams increase and my pleasure increase), I felt Mutt shoot his third load. It filled my bowels to full, even more than full. The cum dribbling out around his dick was not enough to relieve my pressured colon. If he shot another load, my ass would surely rip from pressure. But I wasn't sure if I dreaded that. It would be amazingly pleasurable, all that pain. I felt a slight touch on my balls, then another. With each thrust, my balls brushed against something light and delicate. Suddenly I realized that Krystal was fingering herself to orgasm. Apparently, she was enjoying her assrape. I was not exactly glad about this. Sexuality forced upon me that my pleasure would be more the less hers was. Five minutes later, I felt myself ready to orgasm. I didn't stop to ask Krystal this time. If she objected to having cum in her ass, that was her problem, not mine. The climax spiraled upwards very quickly, and within the space of two seconds after I first felt it, I was pumping the last of my sperm into her bowels. As I began my orgasm, she began hers, all her muscles tensing, including those in her rectum. Her orgasm increased mine, as did the thought that I was impelling sperm into her tight, swollen, sore ass. I must have shot 6 or 7 full jets. She screamed as she climaxed, filling the walls with her scream, her body tensing and jerking and bucking and kicking for ten seconds strait. Then she passed out below me, disengaging my softening cock with an audible *pop*. Just as she fell, Mutt began to shoot his fourth, and what would be, his final load. My bowels expanded as much as physically possible to contain the sperm; they felt ready to burst with just a little more.... But the walls of my rectum never burst open. The cum filled them, expanded them, but never did they burst open. I wasn't sure whether or not I was disappointed at that. Mutt's cock began to contract, the knot with it. His thrusts became slower, and less violent. Finally, his cock slid from my ass that was so swollen and sore, I could probably have fit an entire beer bottle in there. With his retrieval, cum literally poured out my asshole, the first bit a little wave that hit the ruffled sheet with a plop. And it wasn't a small pour. It was a stream of cum at least as big around as my little finger. The stream slowed, gave way to dripping, and, after a few minutes, ceased. I checked Krystal underneath me. She was unconscious. Well, it serves her right, taking pleasure from what I do to her, I thought. Sexuality still surrounded me like a bubble. Looking around, I gazed at Mutt, limp penis sliding back into its sheath, Krystal, laying unconscious beneath me, cum and blood covering her all over, and the bed, drenched in cum, and blood. Wouldn't it be kinky if.... the thought raced across my mind. The raw, utter, animal Sexuality surrounding me, it didn't seem too nasty. I dropped my face to the sheets and began to eagerly lap up cum. It didn't taste bad, necessarily, but it didn't taste good. Still, the novelty of it was almost enough to harden my cock again. Almost. I licked all the cum, and the blood. Even from Krystal's body. I combed every inch of her body, and the bed, and I even went downstairs to see if there was any cum I missed. There wasn't; I made sure of that. When I went back upstairs, I found Krystal, looking at me with a smile on her face that suggested past fun. Sexuality slipped from me like fog in a wind, and I knelt by her soothingly, trying to show I didn't mean those things that I had done. She brushed my apologies away, claiming she liked roughness, and that was exactly what she expected in the future. With that, she got up from the bed. Cum leaked from her pussy and her ass, dribbling down her legs, but she didn't seem to notice. She just walked downstairs, retrieved her dress and shoes, and walked out, without a word.. In the cold! I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, and, doing so, I noticed a pain in my back. A biting, stabbing pain. Sexuality was gone for now; it was not pleasurable pain. I examined it in the mirror, and found a mesh of red scratch marks covering my back. Mutt's doing. Those marks would scar, I knew. I showered, and bandaged myself up as best I could, and thought about my encounter. Well, Love was over. I had a big mess to clean up, Mutt knew I was his bitch now, Krystal could be pregnant. Problems, problems, problems. But it had been extremely fun, and now I was more open minded about sex. I eventually fucked some guys, and became a full bisexual. I still lean more towards women, though. They exhibit both organs, pussy and ass. I only use men when I want my ass violated. Sometimes I do threesomes. Sometimes foursomes. Sometimes I suck cock. Sometimes I do three things at once: take cock in both ass and mouth, and fuck someone. In addition, I will sometimes jerk someone off, one in each hand. I consider myself a really, really kinky person. But I always make sure I'm wrapped in Sexuality. It can be a wonderful thing. Thanks for reading!! E-mail the writer at dawa4@yahoo.com This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories. You may also want to visit: * Sexy_Top_100_Stories * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites