Not a Slut - Sex Stories

Not a Slut

... want to put his thing inside me, get his sperm into me, and make a baby in my stomach. Me! I thought that only ever happened to sluts, and I had never gone on a date, I’d never been kissed, and I’d never even had a boy flirt with me, as far as I could tell. Certainly nobody had ever told me I was sexy. And never had I even thought about going on the pill! If a pervert looked at me, would he just see a hole? An anonymous vagina just there for pleasure, regardless of the consequences? Or could someone actually find ME appealing sexually? I almost always went out of my way to wear high-necked tops and long skirts, so none of the boys at school had noticed me yet. At least, certainly not in the way that they had the other girls, who constantly complained about how horny their boyfriends were and how they always tried to stick it in anything that moved. But what about a divorced 42 year old dad? Maybe he was desperate enough to look at his oldest daughter and just see a hole. Maybe his biological urge to want to ejaculate into a woman’s vagina was just too strong. Maybe-- I heard the front door slam shut and Dad’s car pull out of the garage, heading off to work. I stood up and opened my closet, walking over to my side of the room in a bit of a daze. I looked into my mirror at myself, trying to figure out what someone would see in me. I lifted up my shirt and slipped off my bra, pushed my skirt and underwear down to the floor, then sat down on the edge of my bed and looked into ...

... the mirror, trying to see myself as a horny old man might. My skin was pale and smooth, but speckled with moles across my body and freckles on my shoulders. I’d always thought of them as imperfections, as ugly blotches, but looking now I could maybe see how to someone else they might look cute, like little polka dots sprinkled across my skin. I followed a line of freckles down my shoulder to my small breasts. They were still A-cups, but they’d grown quite a bit over the past year. They were completely white and turned upward at the nipples, which were also small. They certainly weren’t much to look at, at least not compared to half the girls I knew who always complained about their backs. I’d heard guys in my class talking about breast size before, and knew I didn’t have anything they desperately wanted to see, comparatively. Though I did once hear a guy say that “more than a handful is a waste”, but I wasn’t quite sure if mine counted as a handful yet. I actually think they looked like a perfect size for my body. I ran my hands alongside my breasts and downward toward my stomach. I was thin, but that didn’t stop me from having a little belly that made a small bump when I sat. My hips had widened since I’d hit puberty, but I’d never given them much thought outside of having to buy new jeans. Would a dirty old man look at them and call them baby-making hips? I certainly didn’t have a bubble butt to go with them, and I knew that guys liked those. I ran my hands over my hips and ...