When I was 20 years old, I was just... well, an average 20-year-old girl. I was neither particularly pretty nor particularly ugly, not very tall and quite skinny. I hadn't had many boyfriends up to then and very little sexual experience for my age, and I hadn't even enjoyed what I'd tried. I considered it just an exercise, something you had to do because you're in a partnership, nothing to be ashamed of, but nothing to enjoy either. Also, I didn't have the desire to touch myself, because it didn't give me anything and it didn't turn me on. I was waiting for my Mr Right, who I wanted to be my lifelong love and sex partner, the one who would spark my heart and my body. I had the very naïve belief that, once I'd found the right man, something would click and my sex life would be wonderful. But the truth was, I wasn't keen on experimenting. I didn't know what to do with a man's body, how to excite it, arouse it. Besides, I didn't feel attractive in the least, so I was wondering why someone would go to bed with me if it wasn't for love.
I had just moved to a bigger town and started university, where I spent my first two years having lots of fun. I spent almost every evening out with friends and didn't bother much about studying. I had a brief fling with a boy called Robert at the end of my first year, but, like other times before, he didn't share my feelings. Nevertheless, we ended up in bed quite often and also talked about what we liked and didn't like in bed. For the first time, I started to look at sex in a slightly different way, as something that could be enjoyed regardless of one's feelings. But on the other hand, I DID have feelings for Robert... it was just that he didn't return them.
After his first year he quit and I've never seen him again since.
Then, at the end of the second year I met Fred, a good-looking, black-haired, dark-skinned, mysterious guy who didn't talk much. He was in a relationship with one of my friends at the time, but they didn't get along very well and fought and argued all the time. So he spent a lot of time with his friends instead of staying with her and I found out he was not mysterious at all, but friendly, quirky and easy-going. We spent a few weeks as friends together, and eventually we became a couple. He cared about studying as little as I did, and we spent all our time wandering around, drinking or playing cards, living without a care in the world.
Fred had a few friends who sometimes came over for a round of poker. They were very kind to me I got many appreciative remarks. Since I was not used to this, I was sincerely flattered and also Fred seemed very proud to have such a nice girlfriend.
When we first ended up in bed together, it was a bit like I'd imagined it would be. Sex was gentle, sweet, full of passion feelings, and I was happy and convinced there could be nothing more and nothing better.
There were only two minor drawbacks. One was the fact that I couldn't get an orgasm, however hard we tried. I was afraid there was something wrong with me, but I did not mind too much at the beginning, and decided to be happy with what I could get.
The other one... well, to tell the truth, I didn't it consider it a drawback back then. When we first had sex, I couldn't help noticing how tiny Fred's penis was. He did not seem to consider it small, and that was fine with me. But all in all, I didn't give the matter much thought because there were other things that mattered more to me.
After a year and a half or so, I was totally broke. I hated my university course because I didn't learn anything new or interesting. I had enrolled in the university of languages because I wanted to work with languages, but the students there weren't really taught to use them. So I quit and started looking around and after a while found a job as a waitress in a restaurant. I now had to work from 6 p.m. to 2 or 3 a.m., and I saw Fred only on Friday and Saturday nights after work, because his mother wasn't home on weekends. I still enjoyed staying with him, but after a few months things changed. He wasn't studying, he wasn't working, he didn't seem to be interested in anything but playing video games. He also reconnected with some old friends from high school he had broken ties with and often hung out with them. I didn't like this because I remembered him telling me they had all been doing drugs.
We were going in completely different directions, and, what was really bad for me at that time, was the fact that the sex got worse. It became what it always had been before, a mere exercise. But besides that, he just stopped trying to satisfy me. He would not finger or lick me or try out new positions, while I continued sucking him and trying to please him in every way I could, even though it became less and less stimulating and interesting for me. It was awful. I felt undesired, unattractive and frustrated. But I had also become so used to being in a relationship, I was afraid of being alone, so I kept on hoping the situation would change some day.
On the other hand, John, the owner of the restaurant I was working in, started showing interest in me. He was a family man around forty with steel blue eyes and the nicest bottom I'd seen up to then. We flirted a lot and we often talked about our preferences and my experience with Fred. John made no bones about his dislike for my boyfriend. He said: "If I were in his place, I would have sex with you all the time. How can he prefer hanging around with these people?" Physically, I was really attracted to him, but I couldn't imagine cheating on Fred, and I think that at that time, John felt the same about his wife.
Then, a few months later, I had to move into another flat. I loved it at once, but I had some problems with the key to the main entrance door downstairs, it wouldn't turn properly. On a free night during my holidays I had spent out with my friends, I came back home fairly drunk and promptly broke the key inside the lock. One of my flatmates, who was also called John, gave me a spare one, which wasn't working much better.
When I returned to work, the sexual tension between me and John grew stronger and stronger, it was almost unbearable. We joked about it at work, but I became more and more nervous. For the first time I was really imagining myself having sex with another man despite being in a relationship. John always drove me home after work, and I had asked him to wait for the electric gate to close before driving away, because it made me feel safer. One night in September, he drove me home as usual. The gate closed, I walked up to the door and tried to open it, but the key just turned inside the lock without doing anything. I tried and tried and after a while I noticed that John's car was still there in front of the gate and he was looking at me quizzically. Since it was late in the night, I didn't want to shout to explain, so I pressed the gate opener, beckoned him over and whispered: "I can't open the door, I'm having difficulties with the key." "Should I try?" he asked and I handed him the key. Having his body so close to me made me shiver. I waited for him to succeed in opening the door so I could run away and escape the situation, but something inside me couldn't help enjoying this forbidden closeness. I looked at him busying himself with the key, but neither he could open the door. He handed me the key and moved behind me, while I tried again to turn it inside the lock... and then I felt his body pressing against mine from behind and his hands on my behind, my sides, my breasts. And automatically, I pressed my body against his. I had been hoping for months for someone to show me that I could be physically attractive, that someone would desire my body again and that and even though I thought I should feel guilty, I didn't in the least. I heard John whispering: "At last!", which made my heartbeat go faster and my skin prickle even more. After a few minutes, I slowly backed away, having finally managed to open the door. My head was spinning, I couldn't believe what had just happened. Of course I felt a surge of guilt immediately, the moment he left, but I couldn't suppress a slight feeling of triumph either.
I then started imagining what it would be like to touch him instead of Fred. It was as if all my bodily desire for Fred had stopped at once. But he didn't seem to notice. He kept on playing video games and meeting strange people.
After a few days John drove me home as usual. My new key was working, so we stayed in the car and talked for a few minutes. He wanted to know if Fred gave me oral sex in exchange for mine, and I said no. He hadn't indeed done for months, and he had only ever done it a few times. I had never wanted to push him or to insist on that, but it became very frustrating indeed. It seemed I wasn't worth it. I also told John I had never climaxed, and he couldn't believe that Fred hadn't tried harder to make me enjoy sex more. So, for the first time, I started to think that there was nothing wrong with me, I was not too ugly or whatever, and that it was not only my fault if Fred didn't want to have sex with me anymore. In the end, John suddenly asked me if I wanted to have a look at his penis. I was at the same time shocked and curious. He was clever enough to say: "Just a glance. I'm not asking anything from you. Just a look, if you want." So he pulled down his trousers and... his stiff dick came out. I must have been staring hard at it, because he couldn't suppress a grin. "Do you like it?" he asked. I nodded mechanically. Yes, I did like it indeed. It was much bigger than Fred's. His penis size had never mattered to me, but when I saw John's, I immediately asked myself what it would be like to have his inside me. It was by no means the biggest dick in the world, but it was the biggest I had seen so far.
I was so turned on by the thought of trying this new dick, that only a few days later I confessed to John that I really, really would like to try it out. So we arranged a meeting one afternoon at my place. He had to be very careful because of his co-workers and family, so he came to see me early in the afternoon, while my flatmate, who also worked at night, was still asleep and my roommate was attending lessons.
When he arrived, I was really very nervous. It was the first time I ever cheated on somebody. But my body and my mind were in need of sexual release. I had even forgotten the last time I had had sex with Fred.
I shut the door and undressed quickly in order to lose the feeling of embarrassment. Still, I had no doubt that he was going to like what I was serving him, and I felt at ease with him almost at once.
I took to my bed and looked at him, while he got rid of his clothes and then came closer. I was excited, aroused and relaxed at the same time. His dick seemed already rock hard and once again I stared at it unashamedly. "Come on", I thought", "put it in... put it in..." He first touched and licked my breasts, muttering: "Hmmm... love them... always wanted... small and firm..." I couldn't believe my ears: somebody liked my breasts? What the... but then I forgot about the rest, as he started stroking my sides and my legs with one hand and then pulled a condom over his hard-on with the other. I was transfixed, it felt like I had been waiting for this for ages. He came closer and closer, while I reached out to touch it... how hard it felt, compared to Fred's! He then started rubbing my pussy slightly with it, but couldn't resist for long and then, finally, pushed it in. And it was as if with his dick all my thoughts and feelings of guilt were gone. I only wanted to enjoy that feeling of having this magic wand inside me and forget Fred and all the rest. And after a few seconds he started pounding away. I moaned and pushed my pelvis up against his, to feel him even deeper. He held my arms down and looked at me, then he started pumping faster. I smiled like an imbecile, I couldn't stop myself, this was simply wonderful. Faster and faster he went, and I had never been taken like this, without much preparation, just for the sheer pleasure of it. He stopped after a short while, breathing hard, then I pushed my knees against his shoulders and whispered: "More, please... just a little more..." and he obliged. I could feel it even deeper inside me, like I'd never felt it before, neither with Fred, nor with everybody else. I moaned silently, so as not to awake my flatmate, and threw my head from side to side, breathing heavily. He stopped again a few seconds, then said: "Turn around, I want to take you from behind." I had done this only a couple of times before and I hadn't understood how special doggy style was supposed to be. For a split second I thought about Fred and how boring sex with him had become, but then I suppressed these thoughts at once I turned around quickly. John positioned his cock behind my pussy and rammed it in again in one, and I felt only great pain and let out a loud cry, thinking: 'Oh, please, no, don't do it... don't hurt me like this... what have I done?' For a moment all this felt just wrong, wrong, wrong. I wanted it to end at once and wished it never happened.
Then he started moving his cock inside me, and since it still hurt, I didn't move at first, as my pussy, which felt really tight, widened again and slowly got used to his dick. I was close to passing out, but I also felt a sense of strong, strong pleasure in having this rock-hard dick inside me and was surprised at how wet I seemed to get. He now pushed as hard and fast as he could, as if he didn't care whether he hurt me or not. It didn't take long and I heard him breathe loudly and moan, then he climaxed, and everything was over.
I cannot described how I felt after the first time I cheated on my partner. On one hand, I'd never thought I could even touch another man since I was in a relationship and I felt guilty as hell. On the other hand, I felt great, relaxed, every cell of my body was satisfied, I felt desired again.
We kept meeting in secret during the months that ensued and in spite of my bad conscience I enjoyed every second of our sex. We never kissed, because for both of us it didn't feel right, but we met very frequently and had sex after work, in the afternoons, in the car, in the park, in my room, in the restaurant we were working in, at his house, in a hotel room... and sometimes we would have a quick one before he took me to Fred's house, where I spent the night. I had no problems with the fact that he didn't last very long, because I liked the idea of quick, heavy, animal sex. We both got blood-tested and then had bare sex; and while sucking Fred's (now surprisingly small) cock had increasingly become nothing but some sort of "marital duty", sucking John's became the greatest of pleasures, together with receiving cunnilingus from him. I hadn't experienced an orgasm yet and it did bother me a bit, since John had told me that his wife came every time they had sex. Once again, I thought there was something wrong with me. Still, I immensely enjoyed having someone who really loved licking my pussy.
During the following summer holidays I stayed at Fred's house, since his mother wasn't there. One night we were watching TV in his mother's full-size bed, and after a while he started snoring. I, on the other hand, couldn't get any sleep and tossed and turned in the bed for hours. Without thinking of anything or anyone in particular, I started to stroke my breasts, then to carefully touch my pussy. I rubbed it gently for a while, simply enjoying the sensations my fingers caused. I may have lain there for 30 minutes, maybe more, without really concentrating hard on my hand movements, just touching myself and feeling my pussy pulsing more and more, and I couldn't get enough of it. Still, I was careful not to wake Fred up. I didn't want him to see me, I wanted this very private moment just for myself. I continued fingering myself for some more minutes... I was sweating, my breathing got more and more shallow, I felt tension and more pleasure building... and then it was like an explosion. I had never, ever experienced anything similar. My clitoris pulsated like mad, I saw treetops and hills, an explosion of colours and flowers and felt waves of incredible pleasure and warmth all over me. I had my eyes firmly closed and after about a minute I started breathing normally again and opened them, staring at the ceiling. I had just experienced my first orgasm ever and it was... wow! I could understand why everybody made such a fuss about it. It really WAS indescribable, wonderful, marvellous, divine. Would it ever be possible to repeat it? I held my breath for a moment, then started to rub my pussy again, almost impatiently, anxious to repeat this breathtaking experience. And sure enough, after just a few seconds, my muscles contracted and I climaxed again. I had never expected this and I got even more excited. How many times more could this happen? I fingered myself again and again, for at least an hour, in Fred's mother's bed, without him realising anything. I must have had at least 65-70 orgasms that night, as if I had to make up for every one I had not had up to now.
When I told John about my achievement a few days later, sex with him became even more enjoyable, as he managed to make me come a few times every time he licked my pussy. The only thing I didn't like, though, was the fact that he wouldn't stop licking after one orgasm and wait for me to relax, just to tease me.
One Saturday after work, he drove me to Fred's where I was going to spend the night. A couple of minutes before arriving at his house, he stopped at a car park and said: "You turn me on much too much... come on, let's have a quickie before I drop you off!" I grinned, quickly got rid of my jeans and pants, pulled down his trousers and slipped his hard cock in my warm pussy, sitting on it. Being top was not my favourite position, as I preferred being "controlled" and "subdued". But there wasn't much room in the car, so this was the most comfortable position for both of us. After just a handful of minutes of fast and wild sex we were both sweating and smiling. We got dressed again and I walked the last few meters up to Fred's house. We had dinner, then I had a quick shower, since I "smelt of pizza", as Fred never failed to remind me. When I got out of the bathroom, Fred did something he hadn't done for ages: he waited for me, naked, and instead of just having me his cock sucked with nothing for me in return, he took me to bed and pushed it in. I was almost shocked at how small it felt. It had never been a problem and we had never talked about it, but compared to the fuck I had had twenty minutes earlier, this was... ridiculous. I didn't feel anything. And there was another voice in my head which whispered: "Congratulations... two guys in less than half an hour!" I felt ashamed and proud at the same time. I was almost about to confess everything to Fred while we were having sex, but I stopped myself in time. Automatically, I grabbed his butt and thrust my pelvis against his, and he said: "Mmm... you like it when I push hard, don't you, bitch?" This 'bitch' turned me off at once. I didn't like it when he called me dirty names, I considered it disrespectful. I also thought: 'Yes, dork, I like hard pushing, but I can't feel a thing." But I regretted that thought at once, because he was really trying. Fred was much more resistant than John, so when he finally came, I was almost glad it was over.
Once, the warm water and heating in my flat were not working. We all were freezing and couldn't wash, so I asked Fred if I could stay at his house for a couple of days, and he agreed. I was alone one morning, Fred had to go to town to meet somebody and his mother was working. I got a text from John, reading: "5 minutes?" I replied: "Can't, I'm at Fred's." He wrote back: "Alone?" I: "Yes". And sure enough, 5 minutes later I got one more text: "Open up!" I couldn't believe it. He wanted to have sex with me in my boyfriend's house. Room. Bed. I lead him to Fred's bedroom and he pushed me inside: "Come on, we haven't got much time!" He tore his clothes off, while I still stared at him incredulously. "Come on, doggy!" he said. It was then I woke up, pulled my trousers and pants down at once, knelt on the bed and also said: "Come on, hurry up!" He pushed his hard cock inside – it always seemed to be hard - and I wondered once more how quickly my pussy got wet whenever his cock was near. He started pumping hard at once, and I moaned faintly. I had always been able to control the sounds that came out of my mouth during sex, but this didn't mean that I didn't enjoy it. For a split second I thought about how strange and "dirty" it was to have sex with another man in my boyfriend's bedroom, then this other man climaxed and it was all over. Being licked in this bed would have been too much. John cleaned himself quickly, got dressed again and winked: "We are two right little pigs, eh?" I smiled back and he left. Yes, I felt like a real sow and I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not. But I did not spend much time thinking about it. I had enjoyed it as always, and I also felt guilty as always.