Miley: When Innocence Was Lost

Author's Note: The following story is fictional and takes place in a fictional world. None of these events happened to Miley Cyrus. All characters are 18 years of age or older.

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Nowadays, when people think about Miley Cyrus, they probably envision a 21-year-old temptress whose life is one big swirl of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. And it's true...that's basically what she has become. When I think of her, though, I think back to an incredible few weeks in summer 2011 when our paths crossed. She was much purer back then...just eight months past her 18^th birthday and still, at that point, the uncorrupted ingénue from Nashville, Tennessee, who came out to the West Coast with a pretty face and a dream of music superstardom. She was already an incredible success, of course, but she hadn't yet gotten into the party lifestyle and she was still, more or less, a wide-eyed innocent.

At the time, I was in my late 20s, independently wealthy and living in Beverly Hills. I didn't have a woman in my life—well, at least, not one woman—and I spent most of my days balancing work with a fitness regimen that kept my body toned and sculpted. Years earlier, I had had my own phase of partying, drinking and getting high 'til dawn, but I had basically outgrown that stuff and, for the most part, my life was on the quiet side...kind of boring. And, even though I lived in one of the ritziest, most celebrity-infested areas of the country, I wasn't the kind of guy who was looking to cling to some Kim Kardashian or Lindsay Lohan type. Shit, I barely knew who they were.

But, one day, while I was on my morning run, I couldn't help but notice the vixen in front of me with the long legs and the firm, round butt. I had no idea who she was—I'd never seen her before—but I found myself transfixed by her bouncing form. Although I tried to stay a respectable distance behind her so she wouldn't notice me, I kept right on her shapely tail for a quarter-mile...a half-mile...a mile or more. When she stopped to catch her breath and take a swig from her water bottle, I sidled up to her and flashed a smile while running my hands through my dampened black hair. She smiled back shyly and batted her eyes with an almost cartoonish innocence.

"God, I love running in the morning," I said, lifting up the bottom of my shirt both to wipe the sweat from my brow and to reveal my cut abs. "I can't even get into the day unless I've run three or four miles."

"You must be in great shape," she said, eyeing me up and down.

For my part, I tried to be more subtle in checking her out, although I don't know how successful I was. She had her wavy but sweat-matted mane of brown hair pulled over her right shoulder, the ends resting against her light purple sports bra. Her fair skin was clear and smooth, speckled with just a dusting of freckles. The sports bra hugged her modest breasts, whose hard nipples peeked out through the material.

"I try to keep fit," I said, stretching my back and trying to be nonchalant. "Jeff, by the way. My name's Jeff."

"I'm Miley," she replied.

You're probably not reading this because you have any great interest in the time Miley and I spent together prior to reaching the intimate stage, so I'll fast-forward through most of the next few weeks. Suffice it to say, we became the highlight of each other's morning. Within a couple days of our first meeting, we decided to do our runs together, keeping each other company and pushing each other to go harder and harder.

By that point, I knew who she was and that she was a rich and famous pop star, but, honestly, it was beside the point. We didn't talk about her money, her fame or her music. Honestly, we didn't really talk about much of anything...it wasn't that kind of relationship. I think we were both just looking for companionship and, for whatever reason, we both felt incredibly at ease with one another. There was just this super-relaxed vibe. At the same time, though, the sexual tension was undeniable. It was the summertime and, when a heat wave descended on SoCal, I started running bare-chested. I couldn't help but notice that Miley seemed to like that, her eyes gazing in particular at the thick coating of black chest hair covering my torso. By the same token, every time I looked at her body, a yearning radiated palpably through my loins.

One morning, after a long run, I invited her into my place to cool down and escape the hot sun. I expected that she might turn me down—I mean, remember, I was in my late 20s and she was a pop princess who was four months shy of turning 19—but she smiled, thanked me and followed me inside. I had the central air-conditioning blasting and it might have been a little too cold for her in the house, because I almost immediately saw goose pimples form on her delicate, nearly hairless alabaster skin. She crossed her arms in front of her and rubbed them up and down.

"Hey, let me turn that down," I said. She responded with a girlish giggle.

After a few minutes of casual conversation in my living room, I said, "Can you excuse me for a minute? I always shower after a run and I feel all sticky. Do you mind?"

"Go on," she said, smiling. "I'll stay here and wait. Then maybe I can take one, too?"

I walked up the curved staircase to the second floor and, upon reaching the top, stripped down. I walked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, and took a hot, steamy shower, thinking the whole time about what to do next...or, more specifically, what might happen next. Miley really had me turned on, and I hoped she might be interested.

After my shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked toward my bedroom. For some reason, I always liked to towel off in front of my full-length mirror in there. I sauntered into the bedroom, lost in my thoughts. It was only after a couple seconds that, to my surprise, I noticed Miley had sprawled out on my bed in her sports bra and spandex running shorts.

"Squeaky clean?" she asked with a smile and a giggle.

I chuckled and lay down on the bed beside her, effortlessly slipping my right arm beneath her body and curling it around her shoulder.

"Is it OK that I'm in here?" she asked flirtatiously, even while betraying a sense of being insecure...just a little unsure of herself.

I responded wordlessly with a nod and then slowly leaned in for a long, sensual kiss. Miley responded immediately, her probing tongue caressing my lips and her fingers entangling in my chest hair. I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her deeply, my tongue invading her mouth and tasting the flavor of cinnamon...perhaps something she'd had for breakfast earlier. She moaned and grunted as I rained kisses on her lips, her cheeks and her neck. When I ran my tongue along her collarbone, she squeezed her pert breasts through the sports bra. Her body tickled and tingled with sensual heat, her toes curling in pleasure.

After a few moments, I pulled back and sat up. As if reading my mind, Miley lifted her arms in the air, letting me remove the sports bra and free her perky B-cup breasts, whose brownish areolas were topped with thick, fully erect nipples. She lay back down as I crawled to the foot of the bed, taking her spandex running shorts in my hands and peeling them from her lean, slender, nubile body.

I expected that she would be fully shaved, but I found a dense thatch of brown pubic hair covering her womanhood. She crossed her legs nervously, keeping me from seeing her slit. I ran my hand over her groin ever so lightly and then crawled back up. Finally, I loosened the towel from my waist, letting it drop to the floor beside the bed.

"Oh, god," she exhaled, a barely audible whisper.

I haven't mentioned it until now, but genetics has gifted me with an extraordinarily large endowment: over nine inches erect and with girth that calls to mind a particularly healthy cucumber. I've been with more than my share of women over the years, and most of them love it...at least, they do after a few months. But, I've also had quite a few who said it was just too big for them. One woman to whom I was really attracted slept beside me with an ice pack to soothe her vagina, following a particularly aggressive fuck fest. Another time, I took a hottie to my apartment expecting a one-night stand only, after she saw my package, to have her say, "You're not putting that thing in me." She ended up jerking me off to a disappointingly weak orgasm, with no penetration at all. "It's just too much," she had told me. "Just too much." Yes, the look on Miley's face...I'd seen it before.

"What's wrong?" I asked, as though puzzled.

"Gosh," she said. "You're...huge." It's terrible to say, but my developing erection got firmer when those halting words hit my ears.

"Your last boyfriends..." I began. "Did they have a lot less?"

"I've only ever had sex once," Miley sighed. "It was a few months ago, with my ex-boyfriend."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "All my life, I kept being told I couldn't have sex until I got married. By my dad...by the people from Disney...by everybody. I was an 18-year-old virgin and I wanted to have sex. So, we started fucking in my bedroom and he popped my cherry."

"It lasted, like, a minute or two," she added. "We broke up a little while later. That's the only time we..." she paused momentarily "...I...ever had sex."

I stroked her cheek and kissed her on the corner of her mouth. "It's OK," I said. "We'll go slow."

We continued kissing and fondling each other for a while, exploring each other's bodies. I quickly realized that sucking on her thick, meaty nipples brought Miley into a sexual frenzy; she writhed beneath me as her pubic hair dampened with slick, greasy wetness. She stroked my cock, squeezing the hot flesh with both hands. Pre-cum began to drizzle from the head and run between her long, thin fingers as she brought my erection to throbbing fullness. I lay back on the bed, my dick pressed against my stomach.

"Want to suck on it?" I asked.

Although Miley didn't respond verbally, she slid down the bed and positioned her face over my cock, grabbing it at the base with her right hand.

"Use both hands," I breathed.

Miley grabbed the middle of the shaft with the other hand and let the head slip into her mouth. I've always loved blowjobs, but the sensation was indescribable. Although she had only taken a couple inches, I could already feel an orgasm building. I adjusted my position and fought it off. She teased the underside of the glans, flicking her tongue and then dragging it. She moved her head up and down slightly, although never taking in much more than she already had.

"Try to take a little more," I said, reaching to pull one of her hands off my shaft. With that, I thrust upward slightly, pushing farther inside.

Her mouth was having trouble accommodating me, and the sides curled inward as my cock pushed in farther. She kept licking the underside of my dick, coating it in saliva. After a moment, she pushed back against my groin and lifted her head up, coughing and taking a couple gulps of air. Her face was red and her eyes were watering. "That's too far back," she said. "I feel like I'm choking."

Miley wrapped her hand around my dick again and licked it up and down like a Popsicle. Flicking her tongue against the head, she looked up at me at smiled sexily.

"You like that?" she asked. "Does it feel good?" My eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

After a couple minutes, she crawled back up to the top of the bed to lie beside me. I rolled to my side and kissed her deeply, running my fingers through her long, slightly knotted brown hair. After a moment, I climbed on top of her, positioning myself between her legs.

"Let's take this real slow," I said. "Reach into my nightstand and hand me the lube."

Miley reached in, pulled out the tube of lube and squeezed a generous amount into her palm. I scooped it from her hand and coated my cock, right down to the pelvis. Wiping my hand on the bed sheets, I lined up the tip of my dick with her quivering pink opening.

"Just be relaxed," I said. "Don't tense up."

Holding my shaft in my right hand, I pushed in, feeling myself begin to penetrate Miley's achingly tight rosebud. She cried out in pain, arching her back and lifting her body away from my pressure.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"This isn't gonna work," she croaked. "Maybe you're too big for me."

"It's all right," I said, softly kissing her left cheek.

I moved further down the bed and lay between Miley's legs, peering at her reddened blossom. I slipped in one of my thick fingers, which made her wriggle and moan. Even with just my index finger inside her, Miley's velvety constriction squeezed around it. With my other hand, I spread her lips, revealing her engorged clitoris. Slowly and gently, I placed my tongue up against it. Miley squealed and bucked her hips, making my finger slip out of her. Grabbing and holding her hips firmly, I pressed my face into her pussy, lapping at her clit and keeping her from squirming away from my insistent tongue.

Miley's breathing grew rapid and frantic as I ate out her pussy. I could see her squeezing her erect, protruding nipples between her fingers...pulling them with sexual abandon. She was absolutely soaked by this point and, coating my index and middle fingers in her secretion, I spread her pussy wide to slide them in. She whimpered and pulled back slightly, but I had my fingers buried inside her; within a few seconds, she relaxed again. She was still incredibly tight, so I started pumping my arm back and forth, finger fucking her and trying to loosen her up a little. She moaned and chewed on her lower lip, her eyes closed.

I moved my fingers around a little inside her, trying to separate them and stretch Miley out. "If she and I stay together," I thought to myself, "this is going to be an ongoing project."

After a while, I got up from the bed and walked over to the nightstand, grabbing the tube of lube. I absolutely doused my cock with it, squeezing more onto my hand afterward. I climbed onto the bed again and coated Miley's pussy, too. Outside...inside...everywhere I possibly could.

"We'll try one more time," I thought to myself.

"Do you want to try once more?" I asked, as I got ready to mount her.

Miley nodded, still biting her lower lip. "Yeah."

With that, I lined myself up, grabbed the shaft in my hand and pushed forward, the head of my cock penetrating her with an audible slurp!

"Gently, gently, gently..." she repeated, squeezing her eyes against the pain. "Gently, gently..."

Having finally achieved penetration, I continued with slow but consistent pressure, wedging myself in inch by inch. Her slick, wet, warm pussy had a death grip on my shaft; it felt incredible. Her vagina was gripping my cock much tighter than even my hand would be if I had been masturbating. But I could also tell it was hurting Miley a lot; her head turned to the side, she cried softly.

With less than half of myself inside her, I stopped, cupped her face in my hands and turned it toward me.

"Honey, try to relax," I urged. "You're so tense right now. It's making it worse. Just calm down, OK?"

She seized the pillow from beneath her head and put it over her face, holding it from either side.

"Miley... Miley..." I said, trying to pull the pillow away. "Look at me."

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice breaking, "it hurts!" She clenched the pillow in her mouth.

I grabbed the pillow and threw it off to the side, leaning down and mashing my lips into hers. I swallowed her sobs, kissing her passionately while working my member in and out. After a couple of minutes, the tenseness of her body let up and my movement stopped being so labored. I was by that point buried six inches deep; instead of crying, she had begun kissing me back.

I repositioned myself, withdrawing most of the way and grabbing onto her shoulders for better leverage. She, in turn, draped her arms around my sides, her hands resting on my back. With her legs spread wide apart, I pushed down on her shoulders and penetrated forcefully, aggressively thrusting myself deep into the cushy heart of her genitals.

She gasped and then screeched, her fingernails digging into my back and raking deep scratches from the middle outward. Although the scratches on my back were so tearing that they drew blood, I hardly noticed as I split her open with my rock-hard meat. Miley, lost in throes of an experience equal parts pleasurable and painful, shrieked until she was hoarse. Every time I withdrew, I could feel her vaginal walls gripping the tender skin of my cock. Her pussy was like a sleeve, form fitting around my shaft and tugging at it.

I pulled out all the way and motioned for Miley to flip and go face down, ass up. She was shaky as hell, but, after a moment, got onto her knees and lifted her ass in the air. Facing down her virginal asshole and inflamed vagina, I buried my face in them. My nose smushed up against her asshole as I tongued her pussy, which oozed my pre-cum into my mouth. As I smacked hungrily at her inner sanctum, she threw back her head and made a sound I'd never heard a woman make before. It wasn't quite a groan or a moan. It was guttural...some kind of animalistic eruption originating deep in her diaphragm.

Then, I penetrated her from behind, pushing myself in in a quick, sudden, powerful thrust. Miley cried out sharply, reaching her hand behind herself and pushing back against my thigh and hipbone to keep me from burrowing any deeper. As she became acclimated to the new position and to the more intense penetration, she braced herself against the headboard and I started to fuck her aggressively. The whole house now reverberated with her moans, screeches and high-pitched shrieks. I could feel my orgasm building—this time, it would be undeniable—and it pushed me to pound her even harder. The headboard was smashing against the wall by this point, the whole bed rocking back and forth in a lumbering, cacophonous rhythm.

"Please cum! Please cum!" she moaned.

I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her body into each thrust. Although I bottomed out with a couple inches to go, I was penetrating her really deeply and I was seconds away from blowing my load. I closed my eyes and focused on her warm, soaking wet vagina, which was enveloping my throbbing, pulsing hard-on.

"Jesus Christ!" I muttered, by now sweating heavily, drops sticking to and glistening on my muscled, hairy chest. "Oh fuck..."

"Please cum!" she gasped one last time, just as I pulled out and grabbed my member.

The first rope—thick and milky white—shot onto the back of her neck with a wet, gooey splat! The second rope splattered against the headboard, dripping down onto the bed linens. The third and fourth ropes shot onto her back as she lay there, crumpled and prone. Three or four small ropes later and I collapsed onto the bed beside her. My body was so damp that I stuck to the bed sheets that entangled her and me.

"Thank god..." Miley heaved, pulling strands of hair from her flushed face.

"How are you doing?" I asked, my mind beginning to clear after the frenzied fucking of the last five minutes.

"I'm all right," she said, pausing momentarily and then adding, "I mean, if we're gonna do this regularly, I'm eventually gonna have to get used to handling you."

I just nodded, picking up a cool pillow and draping it on top of my forehead.

After a minute or two, Miley got up, shaky on her feet. She stumbled across the bedroom floor, bending down to pick up her sports bra and spandex shorts. Then, she lurched toward the doorway.

"You seriously just, like, broke my vaj," she mumbled.