Stolen Innocence - Sex Stories

Stolen Innocence

... was shocked by that thought at first, but I brushed it off quickly.

If I do this, I can't go back.

For a moment, I tried to use the little rationality I had left. I felt so slutty, dirty, ashamed of what I craved the most. And yet, those same thoughts aroused me more than ever.

What is wrong with me? Am I truly this slutty?!

The idea of acting like a cheap whore was rationally repulsing, and yet, it brought my pussy to new, unknown levels of arousal. I felt my juices running down my legs.

The urge for relief, IN FRONT OF HIM, was unbearable, almost painful. My wanting pussy was deciding for me. I had no choice other than to follow her desires. I was done being the 'Good Girl' at least in the eyes of that guy, who, with his sultry glances, deserved some entertainment after long days at work, instead of a meager shy glance from me.

If I had followed what my craving body desired, I would have immediately ripped off my dress and transparent strapless bra, exposing my breasts for him to see, and taken off my panties, opening my legs so obscenely that he could see my rosy young pussy and slippery juices in as much detail as possible. But deep down, I was still that boring shy girl, totally brainwashed by the church.

"Pleasure is sin," would preach the priest over and over.

"Good girls don't think about sex."

That's what I was taught from a very young age. My lustfulness and my sexual desires, so graphic and raw, had always brought me constant ...

... shame.

But that day not even the Church could have stopped me. At last, I had been able to win over them. If I were going to be a slut, as the priest would have certainly called me, I would have tried my best to tease the guy to the point of no return. And so I did.

Pretending I didn't notice him staring at me, always with the book in my hands, I removed my black, patent high heels and placed them on the desk. My black short dress, with thin straps and little red embroidered roses, barely covered my tanned legs. I quickly glanced over the window to see his reaction.

At this point, his face was an open book. After weeks of glancing at me, and probably stroking his cock, he knew that something more concrete was finally going to happen. His mouth was slowly open, and he wasn't even concealing his surprise and arousal anymore. While smirking at me, he swept off the sweat dripping from his face, waiting for my next move.

Despite the both of us knowing what was happening, I was still pretending no one was on the other side of the road. After the high heels, I moved my chair slightly to the right side so I could put my slightly open legs on the desk too. The mini dress became so short that it couldn't properly cover my white sheer panties anymore, revealing more than a few details of my trimmed pussy, as well as a now quite obvious wet spot.

Being that afternoon so hot (in any possible way), I started to wipe away the little drops of sweat on my neck, breasts, and inner legs in ...