Superslut - Sex Stories

Superslut

... and ready to spring into action. Her arms were bare, her midriff was bare, and her legs were bare from the ankles to very nearly the top of the thigh. If her mother could see her now… Or any of the Exeter Kingdom Hall… Or any Jehovah’s Witness… “I don’t think anyone would recognise you,” commented Kulthoom, unconsciously echoing Judith’s thoughts. “You look totally different. Yeah, I think we’ll be able to do the business. The boys at the club won’t know what’s hit them.” When Saturday came, Judith walked across Exeter to Kulthoom’s lodgings: a four-bedroom flat she shared with three other girls. She didn’t dare wear her new clothes. She carried them instead in a carrier bag, which she thought in itself was a clarion call to the world that she had been into some wholly disreputable shops, but thankfully she met no one she knew who was likely to comment. She changed in Kulthoom’s room, feeling nervous and jittery but comforted by her friend’s reassuring remarks. She even let Kulthoom adorn her with lipstick and blue eye make-up. The image in the mirror was definitely that of Superslut and not of plainly-dressed Judith, Biochemistry student and Jehovah’s Witness. “What time do we go to the club?” asked Judith. “Not till after midnight.” “Midnight?” said Judith aghast. That would take her into Sunday, the day of rest. “Well, don’t worry,” said Kulthoom, picking up her handbag and slinging it over her shoulder. “We don’t have to wait here till then. I’ve arranged to meet some ...

... friends at the pub.” “The pub?” This was even worse. Not only was she dressed like a slut and intending to dance on the Sabbath, she was also going to enter a den of iniquity where there was drinking, smoking and, no doubt, other debauchery. However, since Superslut wouldn’t object to such things, why should she? Although Judith did her best to hide it, her evening was one of acute embarrassment and awkwardness. Thankfully, everywhere was so noisy, everyone so distracted and everything so chaotic that nobody noticed how much Judith was really not enjoying herself. At least, she was dressed appropriately for her company. Kulthoom dressed more immodestly than even she, with virtually only shorts and a bra. Her girlfriends, and there were so many of them, dressed much the same. Some were Asian, one was black, but most of her friends were white like Judith. But it wasn’t easy to have any conversation with any of them, especially as it was so very noisy. “What are you drinking?” asked one of Kulthoom’s friends. “I’m not sure,” said Judith honestly. “Orange juice. Fruit juice. Something like that.” “J2O, then,” said the girl, teetering on her heels and heading to the bar through an unmannerly scrum of immodestly dressed young women and leering young men. And so, Judith’s first experience of alcohol was in the form of alcopops, a concoction she’d never been warned of and had never heard of. And that, with the noise, the bright lights, the smell of perspiration, made the evening even ...