Trail of Sin

by Ray Gordon

  The sun shone in a clear blue sky and I sat in the park for several hours. I’d told my mother that I was going to work so I could hardly go home. It was odd that she hadn’t asked me anything about my new job, but I was sure that she’d question me about my first day as a secretary when I got home. I was wearing a dark blue knee-length skirt and a white blouse, which I’d hoped would convince my mother that I was working as a secretary. I was also wearing white cotton knickers rather than a thong. As my mind drifted and I recalled sucking the middle-aged man’s cock my knickers became very wet.

  A sleeping desire had definitely been roused, I knew as I left the bench and walked into the wooded area bordering the park. My libido was rising, my clitoris stirring, and I knew that I’d have to masturbate. This was nothing like me, I thought as I settled on the soft grass in a small clearing among the trees. This wasn’t just uncharacteristic, it was completely alien to me. Before I took on the role of Ali the slut, I’d never really thought about sex. I’d certainly never had the urge to masturbate, let alone in the woods.

  On my back beneath the trees, with my skirt pulled up over my stomach, I lifted my buttocks clear of the ground and slipped my wet knickers off. Who was I now? I wondered as I ran a finger up and down my wet pussy slit and massaged the sensitive tip of my erect clitoris. Was I Ali the slut, or Ali the prude? I was myself, I decided as my young body trembled and my vaginal juices flowed from my opening sex hole. There was no clear-cut innocent Ali or distinct sluttish Ali. There weren’t two separate people, there was only me.

  Reaching beneath my thighs, I slipped two fingers into the wetness of my pussy as I massaged my solid clitoris. I needed an orgasm desperately, I knew as I looked up at the sunlight filtering through the foliage high above me. Fingering, massaging, attending my female needs . . . I felt feminine, sensual, as I masturbated in the woods. It was as if I’d discovered my body at long last, and I wanted to make the most of the pleasure that I could get from my pussy. It was as if I’d discovered myself.

  I slowed my clitoral massaging and caressed my inner vaginal flesh gently – I didn’t want to come too soon. Quivering, breathing deeply, I stroked my sensitive clitoris, teasing out ripples of ecstasy and inducing my sex milk to flow over my fingers. I’d changed since Ali the slut had arrived, and I was still going through changes. Crude words loomed in my mind: cunt, fuck, spunk, blow job, cocksucking slut . . . My cunt, I thought as I caressed my clitoris and fingered my wet pussy. My beautiful cunt.

  Although I tried to hold back, my orgasm exploded within the pulsating bud of my clitoris and shook my young body to the core. I felt alive with sex as I writhed on the ground. My whimpers of pleasure echoed around the trees and I massaged my clitoris faster to sustain my wonderful orgasm. Again and again, waves of ecstasy rolled through my body as I fingered my cunt and rubbed my solid clitoris with my fingertips. I could feel my pussy milk flowing, running down between my naked buttocks to the tight hole of my anus, and I realised just how hungry I’d been for an orgasm.

  Finally coming down from my sexual heaven, I lay quivering and writhing on the grass. Suckling my quim-wet fingers, savouring the taste of my cunt juice, I realised that I was desperate to feel a hard cock driving deep into my yearning vagina. This was so unlike me, I reflected as my clitoris swelled again and demanded my intimate attention. I unbuttoned my blouse and lifted my bra clear of my firm breasts before pinching and squeezing my brown milk teats. I could feel my young womb contracting, my sex cream flowing from my vaginal entrance.

  I had become a nymphomaniac, I thought as I pulled at my erect nipples. I needed a man, a rock-hard cock fucking me and spunking over my cervix. Reaching into my bag, I grabbed the tube of hair-removing cream and unscrewed the cap. I squeezed the tube and a swirl of white cream appeared. All I had to do was smear the cream over my pussy and my Venus mound would be bald within ten minutes, along with my vulval lips. I didn’t want to do it but something deep inside my mind was urging me to.

  I parted my legs wide, took a deep breath and held the tube over my quim. My fingers were wrapped around the tube but I tried not to squeeze it any more. There was a battle raging in my mind but I couldn’t understand why. Then I tightened my grip, repeatedly telling myself that I’d regret it. But I had no willpower. The unguent was cold against the sensitive flesh of my outer cunt lips. I squeezed the tube harder and then massaged the cream all around my vagina. I felt confused as I lay on the ground beneath the trees. What the hell had I done?

  After ten minutes, I grabbed my knickers and wiped the cream away. I sat up and gazed in horror at my bald pussy. I’d stripped away years along with my pubic curls. My outer lips were smooth and puffy, soft to the touch. They appeared to be fuller and my sex crack looked deeper. My inner lips protruded alluringly from my wet valley and I wondered what John would think of my new look. I also wondered what my mother would think if she discovered what I’d done. Was I a nymphomaniac?

  The sensitive flesh of my pussy was stinging a little, and I knew that I should wash off the remnants of the cream. I stuffed my knickers into my bag, leapt to my feet and walked through the woods to the small stream where I had played when I was young. Squatting by the stream, I scooped up handfuls of fresh water and splashed the bald flesh of my pussy. The water cooled my swollen lips, sending my arousal soaring as I washed.

  When I’d been younger and had played by the stream, I’d been happy, with no worries or concerns. Life had been simple, fun, exciting . . . Now that I was eighteen, life was complicated. I’d taken money in return for sex – I was playing the role of a whore. My blouse was still open, my young breasts on show, and I knew that I looked like a slut. I covered my breasts with my bra and buttoned my blouse as I walked away from the stream. Acutely aware of my bald pussy lips as I emerged from the relative darkness of the woods into the sunlit park, I thought that I was going through an identity crisis. Who the hell was I?

  ‘Hi, Ali,’ someone called.

  I turned, hoping that it wasn’t another of the slut’s men, and said, ‘Hi, Alan.’ I sighed with relief as the boy who lived a few doors away from me approached. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m cool. What are you up to?’

  ‘Just walking in the park,’ I replied. I glanced down at his tight jeans and pictured his cock. ‘Where are you off to?’ I asked him. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about his cock? ‘Anywhere exciting?’

  ‘I was supposed to meet my girlfriend here, but she hasn’t turned up.’

  ‘Have you known her long?’ He was the same age as me, and I wanted his cock.

  ‘A couple of months. We were going into town but . . . Never mind.’

  ‘Do you remember when we used to play by the stream in the woods?’ I asked him.

  ‘God, that was years ago.’

  ‘Want to go and take a look at the stream?’

  ‘OK, seeing as I’ve got nothing else to do.’

  As Alan and I walked across the park to the woods I knew that I’d have sex with him. I didn’t want to but I had no will-power to fight the battle raging in my mind. I wanted a cock deep inside my cunt, fucking me hard, spunking me and . . . Such thoughts never entered my head when we used to walk to the stream and look for tadpoles. We never found any, but it was fun playing about with the water. I was going to the stream with Alan again, but it wasn’t water I wanted to play with. If he knew that I wasn’t wearing any knickers, that my pussy was bald and my tight cunt was yearning for a hard cock . . .

  ‘It’s nice here,’ he said as we reached the stream. ‘I used to love coming here.’

  ‘And me,’ I replied softly, eyeing the crotch of his jeans again and imagining his prick. ‘I don’t know why we stopped coming here.’

  ‘We got older, Ali. We got older and found other things to do.’

  I sat on the grass and smiled at him. ‘How many girlfriends have you had?’

  ‘Not many,’ he sighed, sitting beside me. ‘I’ve never had much luck with girls.’

&nb
sp; ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve been out with a few but . . . I must be going wrong somewhere.’

  ‘Have you had sex with any of them?’ I persisted.

  ‘Only two, and both times were disastrous.’

  ‘You have to know what you’re doing,’ I said, with a giggle. ‘It’s no good just fumbling about between their legs.’

  ‘Well, I . . . I know what to do. At least, I thought I did.’

  ‘You need some practice.’

  As I lay back on the grass and lifted my skirt up over my stomach, he gazed wide-eyed at the bald lips of my pussy. His gaze caught mine, and we exchanged smiles. I didn’t have to say anything – he knew that I was offering him my teenage body. He stroked my inner thighs as I parted my legs, and I felt my womb contract and my stomach somersault. We were safe in the woods by the stream. There were no prying eyes, so I unbuttoned my blouse and lifted my bra clear of my firm breasts.

  His finger parted my hairless lips and entered my vagina. He couldn’t take his eyes off my pussy. He was learning, I thought as he slipped a second finger into my wet sheath. He needed a girl to practise on, a girl to play with, and I needed sex. I reckoned that he was too dumbfounded to say anything, to ask me why I’d shaved or why I wasn’t wearing any knickers. Maybe he didn’t want to know why. Maybe he was just happy to have my young body to himself.

  His fingers probed deep within my tight vagina as he leaned over and sucked one of my ripe nipples into his hot mouth. I writhed on the grass, breathing heavily as he bit gently on my sensitive milk teat. Wondering why I’d never thought of Alan in a sexual way before, I also wondered why I’d never previously thought of anyone in that way. Had he ever looked at me and imagined my pussy or my tits? I mused as he sucked my other nipple into his wet mouth. Had he pictured my naked body when he’d wanked?

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said gently, slipping my wet nipple out of his mouth.

  ‘I’m not beautiful,’ I replied, giggling.

  ‘You are, Ali. You have a beautiful body.’

  ‘My cunt, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, no, I . . .’

  ‘Have you ever licked a girl’s cunt?’

  ‘No, no, I haven’t.’

  ‘Lick mine for me, Alan. Lick my cunt and make me come.’

  His fingers slid out of my hot vagina and he settled between my legs and ran his wet tongue up and down the open valley between my bald pussy lips. I quivered and writhed, breathing deeply as the tip of his tongue repeatedly swept over the sensitive tip of my solid clitoris. Parting my fleshy lips with his fingers and opening my hole wide, he pushed his tongue inside me and lapped up my flowing milk. My vaginal muscles contracted and my clitoris ached for the relief of orgasm. I told Alan to stretch my lips open wider and push his tongue even deeper into my hot cunt. He followed my instructions, parting my sex lips so wide that I thought I’d tear open. I could feel his tongue deep inside me, licking, caressing . . .

  ‘I want to fuck you,’ he said unashamedly.

  ‘I know you do. Is your cock stiff?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘How often do you wank?’

  ‘I . . . well, I . . .’

  ‘Don’t say that you never wank, Alan. How often do you do it?’

  ‘Every day, I suppose.’

  ‘Do you think of girls when you wank?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have you ever thought of me?’

  ‘Yes, many times.’

  ‘Well, now you can fuck me. Push your hard cock deep into my cunt and fuck me hard.’

  Alan yanked his jeans off and positioned himself between my legs with his erect cock hovering above the hairless crack of my pussy. I gazed at his purple knob as he pulled his fleshy foreskin back. His cock was big, I observed as he slipped his bulging glans between the splayed lips of my pussy. His solid shaft entered me, opening my tight cunt wide, and I knew that I should have had him fuck me long ago. Had I not been such a prude, had I opened my eyes to my young body and the amazing pleasures waiting between my legs . . . It wasn’t too late, I thought happily as his cock-head pressed gently against my creamy-wet cervix. I was only eighteen, I had years of sex ahead of me.

  Alan withdrew his rigid cock and then thrust into me again. My young body jolted as he found his rhythm and began fucking me, and I gazed at his grinning face, the satisfaction plain to see in his dark eyes. We’d always been like brother and sister, I reflected. Going to the woods together, playing by the stream . . . Alan was right: we’d grown older and had found other things to do. I’d worked hard at college and had gone on to university, Alan was also at a university, and we’d drifted apart. Until now.

  ‘You’re big,’ I breathed, listening the sound of my vaginal juices squelching as he repeatedly drove his beautiful cock deep into my yearning cunt. ‘You’re very big.’

  ‘Have you been with many boys?’ he asked me, obviously hoping that he was the first.

  ‘No, I . . . I haven’t had sex before,’ I lied.

  ‘So . . . how come you’ve shaved your pussy? You seem to know all about sex.’

  ‘I’ve always used cream on my pussy. I don’t like hairs there. I know about sex because I’ve been on the internet and learned things.’

  ‘Wow – so I’m the first one?’

  ‘Yes, yes, you are.’

  Alan beamed and increased his pounding rhythm. I could feel my lower stomach rising and falling with each thrust of his rock-hard cock, my inner cunt lips rolling back and forth along his pussy-wet shaft. I was hoping that he’d last long enough for me to reach my orgasm, but he gasped and his sperm flooded my spasming sheath all too soon. He made his last lunge, grunting as his distended knob battered my spunked cervix. He collapsed on top of me, panting for breath, and asked me whether it had been good.

  ‘It will be,’ I said. ‘It will be if you last longer next time.’

  ‘I know it was quick,’ he sighed, resting his weight on his hands and raising his body.

  ‘Fuck me again in a minute, Alan.’ His cock left my sperm-brimming vagina as he moved back. ‘Fuck me again, and next time make it last.’

  ‘I’m no good,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That’s why girls don’t stay with me.’

  ‘You’re very good, so don’t be silly. It was very nice – it’s just that I didn’t come because you were so quick.’

  As he lay on his back on the grass I settled beside him and sucked his limp cock into my hot mouth and ran my tongue over his knob. I could taste his spunk and my pussy milk as I sucked and licked. A blend of sex, I thought, savouring the aphrodisiacal liquid. His cock soon stiffened and he gasped and writhed on the grass. I told him that I’d seen pictures of cocksucking on the internet. I also told him that I’d never seen a real cock before. I was becoming a truly wicked girl – and an accomplished liar.

  Slipping Alan’s silky knob out of my mouth, I ran my tongue up and down his hard shaft. He was ready to fuck me again but I wanted to enjoy the taste of his cock before he spunked my vagina once more. Licking his scrotum, lapping up the cocktail of sperm and vaginal juice, I felt my clitoris swell and my young womb contract. I was heavily into sex now, I thought. After years of denying myself the pleasures that my pussy had to offer I was now hooked on sex.

  ‘Clean me,’ I said, placing my knees either side of his head and lowering my dripping quim. ‘Lick your spunk out of my cunt and clean me.’

  ‘You’re amazing,’ he said softly as I sucked his solid knob into my mouth. ‘Where do you get these ideas from?’

  ‘The internet,’ I replied. ‘Lick my cunt out, Alan.’

  His tongue entered my spunk-dripping vaginal hole and he lapped up his spunk as I sucked and gobbled on his beautiful knob. I could feel the hairless lips of my pussy pressing against his cheeks, my solid clitoris rubbing against his chin, as he sucked out the blend of sperm and girl juice from my hot vaginal sheath. Rocking my hips, massaging my sensitive clitoris against his wet chin, I bobbed my head
up and down and fucked my mouth with his hard cock.

  Where did I get these ideas from? I wondered as my young body began to quiver. Was it instinctive? Or was it that I wanted to be as crude and dirty as possible? My mother had once talked to me about sex. She’d said that sex shouldn’t be dirty, it should be a loving union between a married couple. I was neither married nor loving. I was single, a slut, and very dirty. I was using Alan for my own sexual satisfaction. Just as John and the other men had used me for crude sex, I was using Alan.

  My womb contracting, my clitoris pulsating, I could feel my orgasm coming as Alan licked and sucked the wet flesh between the swollen lips of my pussy. Desperate for his spunk to flood my mouth, I gobbled on his bulbous knob and wanked his solid shaft. His body grew rigid and I knew that he was about to pump out his cream as my own orgasm welled and erupted within my solid clitoris. Our young bodies trembled and writhed as Alan pumped his fresh sperm into my mouth and we clung to each other, locked in our act of wanton lust as our climaxes gripped us.

  As I drank from Alan’s throbbing knob and he swallowed my flowing pussy milk, I knew that he’d want to see me again. He’d probably pester me to go out with him, to meet him in the woods and have sex with him. I’d have to keep my other life secret, I reflected as his sperm-flow ceased and his cock began to deflate. As I rolled off his trembling body and lay on my back beside him, I knew that I had to make sure that he never discovered Ali the slut.

  ‘You get better,’ he said softly, turning his head and smiling at me.

  ‘So do you,’ I said, licking my sperm-glossed lips. ‘I want you to fuck me again in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll fuck you every day, Ali. How about going out for a drink this evening? We could go to the pub and –’