Prom Queen and Me Part One

Being such a slut in high school had its moments. Passing final exams wasn’t one of them. Jeez, if only I’d known that if I hadn’t tried to seduce every chick in my year I might have remembered some math formulas or one dead poet from another.

My mission in my graduating year was to show the girls there was far more fun being shagged by a les-slut than the inept droolings and pantings of their boyfriends. Ha ha ha if those striplings had an inkling of what their slaggy chicks got up to in my basement they would have permanent hard-ons. Come to think of it, they did, but that wasn’t MY doing.

Anyway I flunked out everything except Advanced Dildos and Digits and Anal Licking/Clitoral Flicking -coz the exam boards didn’t remember to set the practical exams! Ha Ha.

Ma and Pa said I had to make my own way in the world, they had no intention of having a 19 year old lesbian sex maniac clog up the rec room any longer (I’d practically locked myself in there with all the cheer squad and the class valedictorian ‘studying’ the past 6 months). Pity ma sprang me at it the night before the biology final. Mind you, they were cool. Ma’s girlfriends had been coming home with her for years, while Dad just buried his nose in his stock market reports.

The night of the senior prom, I hosted a party in that rec room. All the girls called in at one stage or another, before their escorts came for them, for a quick fix between the dance and other parties, or even well into the morning. I did insist they take a shower and a douche (vaginal and anal) if they had already fucked any guys.

I had some sweet moments with the Prom Queen; she was already engaged to the football captain, but she knew her pussy throbbed like for like. She left my house with bright pink kisses on her nipples, her bosom swollen from my sucking, pinching and nibbling. I had pulled her strapless prom frock down and exposed her ripe, pert tits with their incredibly long nipples. I sucked them right into the back of my mouth and rolled them round and round on my tongue, sucking and blowing them such that her hips writhed and her pussy arched upwards, craving my fingers, tongue and girlcock. I withheld that satisfaction from her, sending her back to the jock she was destined to marry. I knew he would never satisfy her lust, her need for womanlove, and that she would be back. When she reappeared we blew each others brains out with our fucking. It’s called Delayed Gratification, and there’s a lot to be said for it!

Two weeks later, my parents waved goodbye as I headed off to BigTown, ready to take on the world. I’d chosen a career in the only thing I was any good at – fucking. All those sluts from my high school we’re going to need some lesbian loving long after they married their preppy boyfriends and settled on their country estates and in their bijou townhouses. That’s where I came in. I needed to train up for all eventualities. And even in my limited experience, the best training was on-the-job.

First though I had to find some digs. A share-room in a share house was my first home away from home. My room, well, actually bed mate, was a girl who worked nights – 11pm to 7am shift, 6 days a week. She had use of the bed 10am to 10pm Monday to Saturday, I had it the other 12 hours. The only rule was if any fucking took place, the sheets had to be changed if the other user wanted them changed. I rarely did. I liked falling asleep to the smell of woman-sex. I loved crawling into that bed straight after my bedmate and her lover/s had left it, smelling the cum of woman-lovin’.

Sundays were most interesting. Neither she nor I had work. So, naturally, we shared the bed. We ate, slept, read newspapers, and entertained our lovers. Sometimes there were four or five of us in that big bed and on more than one occasion I lost track of whose cunt I had my mouth wrapped round and who was giving my ass a pounding.

Oh, yeah, only cunt was allowed in the bed, or the house for that matter. The other rule was if any girl had a prick poke around inside her she was not to discuss it with any of the rest of the household. Well, fair’s fair.

I pretended I was just another student, like them. In fact, a legacy from my mother’s sister (a ‘maiden’ aunt) had allowed me to set up the house with an eye to recruitment for my future business. It was more fun that way. If they knew I was the landlady they might have been stand-offish, or even worse, felt I should have my own room. I was far too busy fucking anything with tits to want to be segregated from the female fleshfest!

I was a dedicated lesbian slut. I was looking for others like me. Any waverers left the household in not too short a time. If they couldn’t take the pace, they pretty soon realised the house was not for them. We had an orgy at least once a week, when housemates were encouraged to bring along new talent. That was not compulsory, but the unstated, but observed rule, was that inhabitants were expected to take part.

How I loved those days and nights of orgiastic partying. All manner of lesbian sexual expression was undertaken. My favourite moments were those when someone turned the lights out and I was blindfolded and then told to do the ‘taste test’. The pussy-lick version of the Cola Drink Taste Test. I always managed to get right the house inhabitants, and had a 78% accuracy rating on ‘outsiders’.

One Friday night I was taking part in a game of Blind Slut’s Muff, when I came across a pussy that seemed somehow familiar. I edged my nose in further…..and let my tongue probe the velvety interior of a wet and throbbing puss. Since graduation, this babe had acquired a clithood ring but the sweet promqueen cunt was as delicious as it had ever been. Ah, the beginning of a beautiful friendship!