At last I am free - Sex Stories

At last I am free

I was sixteen and a virgin. As someone who people tend to regard as feisty (even if they don’t really know what that means) and sassy, the situation was not to my liking. But what do you do? If no boy wants to fuck you, that’s just too bad. I dressed like any other teenage girl – tight jeans, tops designed to show off my reasonably impressive boobs, and high heels sometimes to give the illusion of elegance as long as I didn’t fall off them and break my neck. I was in good shape, looked after my hair, brushed my teeth like a good girl and generally made myself what I considered to be acceptable as a potential girlfriend. But still no real action. I had been groped by boys who seemed to think that was what they were supposed to do: they ran their clammy hands over my ass, or rather the ass pockets of my jeans and sometimes around the front, where they were obstructed by seams and triple layers of cotton. Despite being politely available, I still wasn’t being snapped up and ravished. I guessed it was my parents’ fault. They were pretty protective and I was under this strict home-early regime. Or maybe I just wasn’t meeting the right type of guys, I don’t know. Whatever the reason for my miraculous unsulliedness, I was miraculously unsullied. My fluid-wrinkled, spice-reeking fingers were the only visitors to my vagina, and my imagination was my only seducer. I daydreamed constantly about being in compromising situations with men who would simply help themselves to me, doing me ...

... the favour (unbeknown to them) of relieving me of my burden by the simple act of pulling a hairy cock out of a pair of pants and ramming it into my shaven, expectant hole. I used to look at a bit of porn on the internet, of course, but I had never joined a sex dating site. I was supposed to not need that. They were where men went, because they can’t just go into a bar and say ‘Okay, who wants to suck my penis?’, whereas a woman can do something similar, if a little more subtle, without really saying anything at all. Eventually, though, I gave in and joined a site. It was a mainstream one, rather than a ‘specialist’ type, because I wasn’t sure what my specialty was. I didn’t want a particular type of sex with a particular type of guy – I just wanted to be fucked, like every other girl in the world was. I therefore filled in my profile carefully as regards likes and dislikes. I didn’t want to put anyone off. I called myself missnicegirl16, and left age, race and physical type completely flexible. For a picture I took a closeup of my right breast and a section of my torso (what a horrible word – makes you sound like a corpse) from just below my tits to just above my pussy, with a little bit of slit showing. Pow! The first night I was snowed under with replies. They ranged from timid and polite through overconfident and, I thought, probably bogus, to one guy, Bullcock123, who had decided that not only was honesty the best policy, but brutal lack of restraint would open doors for ...