Quinn's Story

Hi. My name is Quinn Jacobs. Why am I introducing myself? I don't know. I mean the only one that will be watching this little video is me. Maybe I'm a little nervous because of the subject I'm speaking on. It's just that what I have to say is so unbelievable looking back on it that I had to tell someone, even if it's just me. As to the subject, it's about my sexual awakening.

You see, prior to the events of this story I was, well, pretty vanilla when it came to my sexual prowess. Not that I was a virgin or anything; I just wasn't that adventurous. I had fantasies (doesn't everyone?) but never had the nerve to act on them. So I pretty much limited myself. Missionary mostly, no oral (either giving or receiving), I barely changed positions. Hell, I don't think I even masturbated very much. Add that to a subpar collection of previous lovers and I just didn't see what all the fuss was about. My ex-boyfriend actually called me boring and a 'dead fuck' before he left me for some sleazy chick. I tried to put a brave face on it but I think I was truly devastated by that comment. Not so much about him, I guess he was pretty boring too.

Anyway, my boring days were about to come to an abrupt end; the beginnings of my new life as a sexual being, a freak even, started with a concert. The week prior I had won 2 tickets to the House of Blues. The main act was LL Cool J. Now that's a man who stokes my fires something serious. The way he licks his lips sends shivers up my spine every time I think about it; I had a whole week of anticipation for that concert where I thought about little else. I mean I was seriously walking on air, like I had my own personal cloud to walk on.

The fellas noticed as well. I got more looks and consideration that week than I could ever remember getting and I'd been working there for years. One guy explained it to me, feeding me an awkward line about how I was like some shining light that kept my shine hidden. Something about a bushel? Anyway, I'm not too embarrassed to say I smiled and even blushed a little at the compliment. All week it was like that. For the first time since my guy broke up with me, for the first time ever really, I felt good. I felt confident. Dare I say it, I felt sexy.

In between thinking about LL (mmmmmm hum) I was planning for my night out at the big concert. I had it all set up. My best girlfriend and I were going to hit the hotel bar before the show, make moon eyes at the performers and hit some downtown clubs after. Hell, I had even thought about meeting a cute guy and maybe flirting a little. But, doom and gloom, my girl cancelled on me. Something about a family emergency. I understood but at the same time I was smashed. I almost let it ruin my night. Despite the subtle confidence boosters I was getting all week long I was still wary about going out alone. Did I mention that this was going to be my first night out since the breakup? Kind of important! I was so close to going to the gas station in my sweats, grabbing a tub of bad ice cream and vegging out on the couch, crying myself to sleep. I know, pathetic right?

Only 2 things kept me from going that route. First, LL in Person? Almost close enough to touch? I would hate myself if I'd have passed that up. The second reason? I had a guest in my head in the form of my ex calling me boring over and over again. In time with my heartbeat I could hear him say it. But this week I didn't hear that voice. Guys were checking me out, were actually interested in me. I liked it. I wanted that for me in the worst way. The girl moping around for months being called boring was just not the person I wanted to be. "Break the cycle!", I told myself. I was going to do just that.

As much to stave off that voice in my head as anything else I was going to refuse to be boring. So goodbye jeans! Say hello to liquid leggings. You know the ones that look like they were poured on and molded to your body? Yeah those. And no gym shoes. I had a nice pair but they didn't fit the sexy image. Come in red open-toed 5 inch heels. Finally I was going to wear this nice green top, the one that highlights my eyes (my best feature) but I was going to be naughty tonight so I wanted to highlight my other 'best feature'. I had a red halter that tied behind my neck with a neckline that showed enough cleavage to drown in. I bought it on a dare but felt it was too risqué to wear in public before now. Add some ruby red lipstick, smoky black eye shadow and adding a twist to my hair to give me that 'just fucked' look and I was sultry enough to make a succubus jealous. I put an extra sway in my walk when I grabbed my keys off the nightstand and headed out for the night. How's that for boring?

Yeah, big talk for when I was playing dress up in the comfort of my own home. Out in the real world it was just a little different. It was times like this where I could have used my girlfriend, at least for the moral support. The butterflies in my stomach felt as big as greyhounds as I was driving to the venue. I made it without shivering in nervousness, took a deep breath and stepped out. I tried to hand my keys to the valet but he was distracted for some reason. Oh yeah, the cleavage. If he looked any harder he'd have been drooling. I mean something like that usually pisses me off, (I'm more than just a piece of meat and a pair of tits you know!) but today I got a huge thrill out of it. I thought I looked sexy when I left out the house. To have it confirmed in such a way by the first person to see me gave me the confidence boost I needed. After getting his attention I gave him a knowing smile and walked into the House of Blues like I owned the place.

The show was due to start in a couple of hours and the tickets included dinner at the Crossroads. I had some time to kill so I took a seat at the bar and ordered an apple martini. Sitting there looking scrumptious, I just started thinking about how last week I wouldn't have had the nerve to be on display like I was. What a difference a week makes huh? With a mischievous smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, my confidence was building faster and faster. I found that I liked being admired, desired, lusted over even. And I found that I was getting plenty of male attention, so much so that I could take my pick of who I wanted. No one was going to say no to me that night.

I was becoming that person that I saw in the mirror before I left home and I wanted to make that change permanent. I came to a decision right then and there, almost a vow. I was going to be that sexy woman, I wasn't going to deny myself the type of pleasure that I'd been running from for what seems like forever. I was going to prove to the world that Quinn Jacobs could be called many things but never boring. Not anymore.

I polished off a couple more appletinis and had an excellent meal. Afterward I walked through the lobby on my way to the concert hall, leaving heads turning and fantasies brewing. To say I was loving the attention was an understatement. I was eating it up! I made it to my section without incident just before the lights dimmed.

Melanie Fiona was the opening act and she was damn good. She was one of my favorite artists and I was getting lost in the music. Singing along like a dork and everything. That's when I felt something pull me from the moment. I was being touched! By a Stranger! You know the kind of touch you get when there are a bunch of bodies in a smallish space? This touch was the very opposite of that one.

He had his hands placed on me in a possessive manner, his strong, large, soft hands. The fingertips of his pointer fingers were stroking the exposed skin between the bottom of my halter and the waistband of my leggings. Now the old me would have freaked out, turned around and smacked him, something like that. But I was being sexy. Adventurous. And just a little bit tipsy. His hands felt good on my body so my response was to push my ass back against his crotch and quite sizable erection. I was embarrassed as all get out on the inside; outside I was pure sex kitten. I flashed him a smile and continued to grind my ass on his pelvis. I looked back to the stage and basically let his hands roam. Emboldened by my reaction, he did just that.

His movements were so sure as he caressed my legs, hips and ass, occasionally touching the bare skin below my shirt. His hands felt better and better; I was having trouble concentrating on the show. I would have never thought anything would have been able to take my attention away from LL and his sexiness, but this mystery man was making my thoughts run wild using only his hands. I mean I couldn't even see his face the lights were so dim. Then we got closer and my attention to the show was totally shattered.

His hard chest and washboard stomach molded to my back and he bent slightly to lay soft kisses on my neck. At that point I gave zero fucks about who was on stage or who was watching. My pussy was vibrating with every kiss, my eyes closed when I reached up to cradle his head between my neck and shoulder, my breathing got deeper and heavier when his hands finally reached under my top to grope my breasts and painfully erect nipples. Even now that I'm not in the throes of passion I simply cannot recall who was on stage at the time or what song they were doing. My mystery man and the sensations he was causing within me became my world. So when he whispered in my ear that he wanted to go someplace where we could be alone I had absolutely no problem leaving the show. Maybe I was even a little bit eager? Hell, I'm talking to myself, no need to lie. I was so eager to leave by then I think I was dragging him out the door!

We didn't go far. Luckily the House of Blues has a hotel attached. He took the lead then, guiding me to the elevator. Already has a room huh? I like the way he's thinking! I finally got a good look at his face under the lights of the elevator. Not bad Quinn. Not Bad at All! He had smooth skin with a medium complexion, hazel eyes that seemed to know all my secrets, all my desires, and a goatee that framed perfectly kissable lips. I'm not going to go all sappy and say he was the man of my dreams, that seeing him made my heart skip like a schoolgirl on the playground or that it was love at first sight. It ain't that kind of story.

What I will say is that I was overcome with lust. That I could not get enough of him. I had a hunger for him bordering on addiction. I needed his hands on my body and his lips on mine in the worst way possible and I was determined to get it. I had not the faintest idea of where we were going or even the name of the man I was kissing (and about to do a LOT more with). Honestly I couldn't have brought myself to care even if I wanted to. Nope. Not at all. Too far gone.

The elevator stopped on his floor and he picked me up, carrying me across the threshold like a bride on her honeymoon. Now I have to stop the sex talk for a second and describe the scene. When I said his floor I meant his own personal floor. He had a penthouse suite and the elevator let off directly into his room. And OMG that room! Huge is one word for it. Amazing another. A Jacuzzi and a rainfall shower in one corner, thick, foot-hugging carpet the color of a tropical ocean, the super king size bed on a pedestal at the center, and a balcony view that looked over the Chicago skyline.

So RICH! The elegance of the room was like nothing I'd ever seen in person, and it was just enough to break me out of the trance I was in. He could see I was impressed and maybe even intimidated by the grandeur of where he brought me. I looked into his eyes for some reassurance; I felt a connection I couldn't explain. I liked what I saw there; lust of course but also acceptance and a need to please. I guess there was a moment in there where I questioned my determination to follow through with the promise I made, but the look in his eyes quelled all my fears and banished my insecurities. In his eyes I was beautiful, I was worthy, I was an object of desire and worship. For my sins I felt like I could trust him. I would not betray that trust.

He took things slowly, more slowly than I preferred at the time. Hell, my engine was revved up and I just wanted him to rip off my clothes and have his way with me. But he was in no hurry. You could tell he was passionate, but his intent was to tease and tantalize, not attack. Instead of tossing me to the bed he stood me on my feet. He disrobed me, carefully exposing my intimate places, kisses following wherever his hands wandered. I wanted to do the same for him but he slapped my hands away. "You first," he said with that deep voice of his before continuing with his journey of exploration.

Those kisses had me melting into a quivering Quinn-sized pool of pleasure. It didn't even matter that he was momentarily avoiding the traditional erogenous zones; his hand and lips had my entire body tingling and my pussy drenched. With deft fingers he untied the knot behind my neck and let my top slide to the floor, following the top with kisses that left me breathless. Next the leggings. He had them around my ankles, pushed me to sit on the edge of the bed, and proceeded to take my shoes off with hands that were rock steady. Shoes off, he slid my leggings off completely and began to massage and caress my feet. As kisses and caresses traveled higher and higher, my ankles to my calves to knees to thighs, my anticipation was building like flood waters behind a dam. I don't remember a time when my pussy was wetter and I just knew the moment he touched me there I would lose all control.

Was he really going to lick me there? I mean I watched porn occasionally and the girls looked like they were enjoying themselves but I had never had it done to me. The uncertainty of his next move combined with the pleasure I was getting from his kisses had my brain near to overload. And when he reached the Promised Land, oh shit when he put his tongue on my clit! Nothing and I mean nothing in life had prepared me for the type of mind-altering orgasm I had right then. It was as if I had never had sex before that moment. And this was just foreplay! We were far from done. I didn't know what to do with my hands; grab the sheets, push his head away or pull his head closer, as I came in waves my hands were randomly doing all three. I was aching to touch him, to make him feel the type of pleasure he was giving me, but this was his show. I had given my body to him and he was not about to let go until he had his fill.

After about ten minutes or ten years, honestly time was meaningless at that point, he finally let off the oral assault on my pussy. When he stood I could tell that the anticipation was affecting him too. There was of course one large indicator, the very noticeable bulge in his pants, but there were others. His movements betrayed his eagerness. It wasn't like he just jumped on me and started going to town but more like he had a mission and he was past ready to accomplish it.

His eyes reflected the hunger I know I felt, though how I noticed them in my state of arousal I will never know. My eyes were glued to his middle; I'd felt his hardness against my body for most of the night and wanted to see if it was as nice as I'd imagined. It was better. Much better. In a weaker moment I might even call it beautiful. Long and so thick I wasn't sure I could wrap one hand around it. I wasn't even sure that it would fit; no lover of mine had ever been so large. However, I was certain that I would really enjoy finding out. He leaned over me and we kissed. I could taste my essence on his lips (HUGE turn on!). While kissing he lined himself up for the main event. He still wanted to tease me though, rubbing his dick against my clit and my entrance, but I had been teased enough. I reached down, grabbing him firmly and nearly growled, "You need to stick this monster cock in me and fuck me NOW!" He didn't fuck around after that.

I felt him enter me slowly; it was especially tight because he was so big and I hadn't had sex in a while. And Jesus he was stretching me! I felt like he was pushing a baseball bat in there! I don't know if he was giving me a chance to adjust to him or he was just trying to prolong the pleasure but that slow plunge was driving me crazy. I swear I could feel every bulging vein, every ridge on the surface, every pulse as blood rushed into his member. My legs began to shake and I was breathing like I was running a marathon. He hit bottom at the same time pubic hair crushed up against my clit; with the combined sensation I just about fucking lost it. My climax hit me hard, harder than when he was eating me out, harder than just about anything I'd ever experienced.

Does it get better than this? I'm not sure I could survive it! That's what was going through my mind as he started stroking. It was like he heard my thoughts because he never let me come down completely. Every few seconds it was like another wave of orgasm hit me, each one better than the last as he gained speed and power. If anyone was around to hear the sounds coming out that room all they'd have heard was me yelling "oh Shit! OH GOD!!" over and over at the top of my lungs until my throat got sore and raw. No matter what, he simply would not let me come down from off that mountain. I whispered in disbelief (getting hoarse dontchaknow!), "oh Fuck I can't stop Cumming!" and he seemed to shift into another gear.

Quickly he put my legs on his shoulders and he was pile driving the pussy. I didn't think he could go any deeper but somehow he managed it. He was pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Our bodies were colliding violently as my pelvis met his stroke for stroke and my pussy muscles were trying to rip his cock out from the root and keep it. Seriously, I think I may have blacked out for a second or two from overstimulation while my body was on autopilot.

Then I felt him swell inside me and just knew he was gonna empty his ball sack in my more than willing receptacle so I did something I'd never had the occasion to do. I gave him some words of encouragement. I begged him to cum, to fill me up and then cum on my tits and drench me with his seed. I told him I was his dirty little whore and I needed to be punished. When I called him daddy that's the exact moment when he lost it, and boy he came in buckets! He filled me to overflowing; try as it might my poor little abused pussy couldn't hold it all. When he laid down beside me I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. The moment could have easily been called spiritual.

The entire night was one of new experiences, new sensations, new highs. I got to explore his body in much the same way he had done me, kissing him from head to toe. I took my time teasing before I gave him head, drunk in a whole new way when I licked our combined juices from his shaft. We'd tried several positions throughout the night to our mutual satisfaction. I especially liked the feeling of control I got from riding high on his cock. Watching his face contort in pleasure from my movements had me feeling like a fucking goddess! In the course of one night I had been an innocent virgin, a sexy temptress, a slave to desire and a powerful wild woman hell bent on sexual domination. What a fucking rush!

We eventually did get some sleep; I had never been so happy to be so exausted. I think that I did a number on him too 'cause he was hugging me in his sleep like I was his favorite teddy bear when I woke up. I excused myself, leaving him a note thanking him for the wonderful evening and went home with an aching pussy and a smile that would take an act of God to remove.

I walked around for the rest of the day in sheer amazement. I mean, how was I ever going to go back to my ho-hum, boring ass sex life after something like that? I never thought it could ever be that good. My girls would talk about mind-blowing sex and I thought they were just exaggerating. Hell, how was I to know that my body was even wired for that? But now that I knew, Pandora's Box had been opened. I could never go back knowing that I could reach that kind of high.