“I don’t get the appeal of the butt stuff,” I said.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
Sitting on my stool, I broke out laughing. I was working on my homework, a notebook and literature textbook spread out on the glass counter over the display of high-class butt plugs, the stainless steel and glass ones. We even sold some that had tails attached to them.
Too much information is a thing, but Dianne gave me a winking grin that just made it funny. I knew she was serious, too. She looked around and stood up.
“Here, see for yourself.”
My eyes went wide as she unzipped her hip huggers and pushed them down, tugging the denim down over her thick, muscular ass. She arched her back and bent a little, and there it was. Nestled between her smooth, muscular ass cheeks was a little purple jewel set in stainless steel. Dianne was wearing one of the fancy butt plugs. She tugged her jeans up zipped and turned to sit down, gingerly, grinning.
“It feels great,” she said. “I love walking around and feeling it shift inside me. Dave picked it out. I have one with a tail, too.”
“Wow,” I said.
She didn’t push me into anything or try to talk me into trying any of the toys or anything like that, but she was completely open about anything I might ask about. In a weird way, it made me more comfortable around her. She had nothing to hide.
One day when I came into work, she looked bad. Her dark roots were showing under her blue hair and her face was puffy from crying. I couldn’t help myself, so I asked.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Relationship troubles?”
“Yeah.”
“Not you and Dave,” I said.
She shook her head. “My girlfriend broke up with us.”
I blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”
She looked at me and smiled a weak smile.
“We have an open relationship. For a while now I’d been seeing a girl. Dave would join in, too. It’s fun, keeps things spicy. Love is about more than sex, Alexis. Our relationship is strengthened by safe sex with other people. It keeps things exciting, and you haven’t lived until you’ve had a threesome. Or a foursome.”
“I haven’t had a twosome,” I blurted.
She looked at me for a good minute, giggles building the whole time. Finally she burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. The virgin porno store clerk. You are too precious.”
I turned beet red and shifted on my stool. “There’s nothing wrong with it,” I said, defensively.
“Of course not,” she said, “everyone has a right to their own body and their own sexual expression. I don’t judge people for the things I do, so I certainly don’t judge people for the things they don’t do, right?”
“Right,” I said.
“Still, you must have fooled around.”
“Not really.”
“I mean, there’s lots of things that are fun but aren’t sexy. You’ve at least had somebody eat you out, right?”
“No.”
“Fingered you?”
“No.”
“Dry humping?”
“No,” I sighed.
“Well, you’ve blown a guy, right? Boys are all about the blowjobs.”
“No,” I sighed. Louder.
“Given a handy?”
“No.”
“At least tell me somebody has copped a feel.”
“No,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.
“I can see I’m upsetting you. I’m sorry, hon, it’s just… are you asexual?”
“What’s that?”
“Some people are oriented towards men, some towards women, most towards both at least a little, some towards both fifty fifty… some people are oriented towards not being sexual at all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m not that,” I sighed. “I’m just…”
“Just what?”
I looked down. I hid behind my big mop of hair, to conceal the tears stinging my eyes.
“I’m fat, and… I don’t… I just…”
I shrugged, and the shrug turned into quivering shoulders as I broke into sobs.
She touched my shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “Look at me.”
I looked up, and scrubbed at my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You’re not fat,” she said. “You’re curvy. With the right clothes you could really flaunt it. I didn’t want to say anything, since it’s not my business, but you could be a real knockout if you got your hair done up and worked on how you dress.”
“I can’t afford that,” I sniffed. “I have to work here if I want to afford soap.”
“Maybe I could help you,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I’m not going to take you to New York to go shopping hon, but I know how to buy the right kind of clothes without making it real expensive, and we could get your hair done. We’ll make it a date, huh?”
“O-okay,” I said.
“Friday night, after your shift. Just us girls, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, I want you to go home. No one is going to buy dildos from a crying girl.”
I sniffed. “You’re sending me home?”
“Vacation with pay. Go get some rest, sweetie. I’ll mind the shop.”
I gathered up my things and left. Dianne must have felt better. She looked better as she walked me out to my car. It was a bit of a ritual she and I had. She’d walk me out, with her Colt .45 stuck down the back of her jeans, until I was safe in my car. She didn’t trust the place in the dark, she said. She waved and went back inside.
When Friday finally came, I was so excited I could barely contain myself, even if something was bothering me. In the back of my head I kept remembering the way she said make it a date. She didn’t mea like a date-date, did she?
When I saw Dianne I almost tripped and fell. She’d gone all out, and she was sex on legs. She wore dark blue leather pants that hugged every sinuous curve of her long legs and were cut so low that I was sure I’d have been able to see her pubes if she didn’t shave. She topped it off with a skin tight black-tshirt with nothing under it, carefully tugged into place to ride up from her hips and expose the field of multicolored flowers that formed a belt of tattoos around her waist, with a lotus above her tailbone. She had full sleeves on both arms, too, flowers and vines from her wrists to where they disappeared under the sleeves of her shirt. She’d dyed her hair a riotous shade of unnatural dark red with purple lowlights.
“Hey there,” she said.
“H-hey yourself,” I said back.
Nothing changed. I did my homework, sold pornography and sex toys, and Dianne puttered around the shop, checking the shelves and doing inventory with a clipboard. The store closed at seven on Friday. When no one came in after six forty-five, Dianne locked up early.
“We’ll take my car.”
She drove. I curled up in the passenger’s seat, trying not to look at her. She put on a jacket against the cold but it only served to draw attention to her tattoos and the fact that she was obviously not wearing anything under that t-shirt. The first place she took me was just a department store in the mall. No one noticed me, but everyone looked at her as she led me through the women’s department, grabbing things off racks. By the time we made our way to the dressing rooms, she had both hands full. I went in and moved to pull the door closed, but she stepped into the dressing room with me. I pushed back against the wall and stared at her.
“What? I haven’t got anything you haven’t got. Here, try this on.”
I swallowed, hard, and turned to face away from her as I stripped out of my baggy sweats. Even in my underwear I felt naked and vulnerable with this woman sitting on the bench while I put on the dress she picked out. I turned around and looked myself, shocked by what I saw. The material was drawn up under my chest, thinning me out a little, and was cut for deep cleavage, my pale breasts on full display.
“You have a fantastic rack, if you don’t mind my saying.”
&nb
sp; She picked out some other things for me, and I was amazed. She had an eye for it, and every outfit she’d put together fit me better than the last.”
“Very good,” she said, and paid for all of it. I hung around awkwardly, feeling even dumpier in my regular clothes. She took my arm.
“Now, your hair.”
By the time the salon was done with me, my frizzy, curly brown hair had been moisturized, trimmed, and straightened. She tried to talk me into dying it all a color, but I got away with one thin strip dyed dark purple. I wasn’t ready for something so radical yet.
“I wish I could take you to a bar,” she said. “Why don’t you come back to our place for a glass of wine or two?”
I fiddled with my newly beautified hair and looked at the floor. “I can’t. I’m only nineteen.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said.
I shrugged. Why not?
Her and Dave’s house was in a regular neighborhood. People don’t really do picket fences anymore, but if they did, Dianne’s house would have them. The place wasn’t a sex dungeon. It looked like my grandmother’s house. I sat in her kitchen and she poured me a glass of wine and one for myself. Dave waved to me from the living room.
I took a sip of wine.
“What are you studying again?” she said.
“Biotech.”
“Ah. Sounds complicated. Any plans after school?”
“Grad school, I guess,” I shrugged. “Ph.D. Eventually. I have to get in somewhere, first.”
The wine was, ah, strong. By the time I finished a glass I felt a little woozy. Then she poured another.
She touched my arm as I drank.
“Say,” she said. “How would you like to spend the night?”
“S-spend the night?” I said.
“Sure, pet,” she said, stroking my fingers with her nails. “This won’t change anything. You don’t have to have accept, but I brought the idea to Dave and… we’ve always wanted to share a virgin. Teach her. What do you think?”
“Teach me what?”
“Pleasure,” she said, sliding her sharp nails up my arm. “There’s a lot we could show you.”
My heart pounded in my chest. Was she asking what I thought she was asking? I couldn’t stop staring at her. I downed the second glass of wine and let my head swim.
“Okay,” I said.
“Come down stairs with me. Dave!”
She took my hand and led me through the kitchen.
The rest of the house was normal. The sex dungeon was in the basement. It was dark, but in a calm, cozy way, not dank. Plush carpet under my feet, and a big bed with red satin sheets in the middle of the room, among other things. Dave and Dianne apparently tested a lot of their inventory at home.
“I think you’d look cute with this,” she said, lifting something from a side table.
She handed it to me, and with a hard swallow I took the spiked choker and put it on, buckling it behind my neck. It was just tight enough around my throat to really feel it.
“I want you to keep that, and wear it around for me. Can you do that?”
I nodded, feeling it tighten as my neck flexed.
Dianne came up to me and touched my shoulders, then my cheeks. “I need you to take off your clothes, honey. Everything. Can you do that?”
I stripped out of my sweats, but my hands went shaky when I was down to my underwear. Dianne stepped behind me and undid my bra and peeled the straps down my arms, and pulled it away. My heart was pounding so fast I could barely stand it. She slipped her fingers in my panties at my hips and worked them down, slowly, until they dropped to my ankles and I stood exposed, in the cool air. Then, I guess, it was her turn. I swallowed and watched in one of the big mirrors. She peeled off her t-shirt in a single motion. Her body was perfect, toned like a gymnast. Her breasts were about the only place that wasn’t covered with tattoos- flowers and vines all around her middle and on her back, and up both arms. Above her chest, stretching over her breasts, was a rose with wings and a halo, with David and Dianne Forever in a legend beneath it. Her nipples were pierced, of course, with little barbells. She bent slowly and seductively to wriggled out of her leather pants, and as I expected she was bald, though her legs and her thick ass were bare of tattoos themselves, except for vines and roses around both ankles and on her feet. When she slipped out of her shoes and padded across the carpet to me, I just stared.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
“Thank you.” She tilted her head to the side and brushed my loose hair over my shoulders. “Put this on.”
She handed me a blindfold.
“What’s this?”
“It’ll help with the nerves, and heighten your sensations. I’m going to blow your mind. No one will ever make you cum like we do.”
I shivered. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I let her tie the blindfold around me. She stood in front of me as she did it up, close enough that her breasts brushed mine as she moved. The movement was casual, innocent, and made heat flare between my legs. Her skin was silk smooth and cool to the touch, but her breath was hot. She took my hands.
“Over here.”
I stumbled a little, not being able to see and all, and almost pitched forward on my face when my legs hit the edge of the bed. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Dianne steadied me with a hand on my shoulder and guided me onto the bed. I went to lay on my back, but she stopped me and turned me on my stomach. I spread on the smooth cool sheets, shaking like a leaf. I had a good buzz, but I was freezing cold and acutely aware of my nakedness and hers, even though I couldn’t see her. I rested my head on the pillow, turned sideways, and Dianne’s fingers brushed my cheek as she adjusted the blindfold.
“No peeking.”
I gasped when she rested her hands on my back. Gathering up my hair in a cord, she laid it out to the side and sat down beside me, leaning over to clasp her hands on my shoulders and started working her fingers into the muscles around my neck. I let out a soft little purring sound of approval, followed by a squeak as her strong, quick hands squeezed and stretched out a knot in the muscle.
“You’re under a lot of stress,” she said.
I nodded. She kept rubbing, and though there was nothing sexual in it, my heart sped up and I felt desire flutter between my legs. Her fingers and palms kneaded my shoulders until the muscles were putty and then moved down, spreading, twisting and kneading my back. It hurt, at times, but it was a good hurt. Wherever her hands passed the tension melted away and I spread out on the bed in a puddle, breathing slowly and enjoying her warm hands. As she worked nearer to the small of my back, she suddenly lifted up. Her sharp nails brushed the soft skin my ass just for a moment before she hopped down the bed and took my calf in both hands and continued the massage. Then she worked up my thigh, squeezing and groping, working closer and closer to the junction of my legs, before she pulled away and started up the opposite leg.
When I thought she would finally slip her fingers between my legs, she jumped down the bed and lifted my foot onto her lap and gave me the best foot rub I’d ever had, then the other. Now I thought as she let my foot rest on the bed, but she moved to my side and caressed my arms, sliding her hands over mine, twining our fingers together. By the time she finished the other arm she’d touched me everywhere but there. Then she pulled away completely.
Only for a moment. She swung her leg over and sat on the back of my thighs, squeezing my legs together with her own. Her legs were powerfully muscled, sinuous, and warm. She put her hands on the small of my back and leaned forward, slowly, lightly running her palms and fingertips and nails up my back. Her touch spread over my shoulders and back down again, then up once more, touching slightly different places, drawing electric lines of arousal across my skin. Her nails slid down my sides, tickling the very outer curves of my breasts, and my nipples tightened to hard points as I gasped for breath. As she leaned over me, her hair fell around her and traced over my back. My breathing quickened
as her cool hair slid over my body. Dianne sat up again and ran her nails in swirls over the peach soft skin of my ass, and I jerked under her, thrusting my backside towards her.
“Shhhh,” she said. “We have all the time we need. There’s no hurry.”
She did it all again, until I was whimpering with need, my hands squirming towards my body on their own. She caught my wrists.
“Almost. Turn over.”
As Dianne lifted off, I rolled onto my back. She took my wrist and something soft and leather closed around it, tight.
“What are you doing?”
She already had my other wrist. “Tying you down.”
“Why?”
She ran her nails down my stomach and I fought off laughter from her tickling.
“Relax, Alex. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”
I let her tie me up. First my wrists, then my ankles. I was lying on the bed, spread eagled. Then the massage started, a deep tissue rub on my thighs first, loosening up the last tension in my body. She fluffed the pillow under my head and then her nails started moving lightly back and forth over my collarbone. I shuddered as her fingers traced between my breasts, down and out over my sides, then came back up again to slide up over the outer curve before her fingers lightly pinched my nipples. I felt her breath on my skin before her soft, warm lips closed around my nipple and sucked so hard it stung. I gasped and jerked and she pressed my breast together, working her tongue and lips all over the soft skin as she cupped and squeezed. I was desperate now, writhing on the bed, thrusting my hips in the air, desperate for a touch between my legs.
Sensing my urgency, she touched me. Her finger circled lightly around my hard clit, just a bare touch, and I almost screamed. It was no relief, it only made the desire worse. She ran her finger between my folds.
“You’re sopping wet,” she said. “Here. Let me kiss it and make it better.”
I groaned as she shifted down the bed and settled between my legs. She stroked my thighs first, with her fingers and then her long nails, before she lightly teased at my folds with her tongue. Her every touch and movement was expert, perfect, driving me to greater and greater heights of arousal. Her tongue pressed at my entrance before dragging roughly over my clit, moving all around. I squirmed and bucked and sometimes she gave what I wanted and sometimes she just teased, and I started to build towards a peak, but it was like she could feel it as well as I could and pulled back, letting it fade before working me up to the plateau again. It felt so good it made me grit my teeth. Then she pulled away and slid over me, moving on all fours. Her nipples grazed my belly, and her silky hair spread over my skin. She lowered her weight on top of me, pinning me down, and put her arms around me.
First Times: Nine Tales of Innocence Lost Page 15