by Asa Akira
“Me too,” I admitted shamelessly. Nothing else was spoken between us. I rolled over and let him pull the silk sheets over our bodies. The coolness of them was comforting. I could only assume from the silence that he drifted off to sleep quickly.
I closed my eyes as a smile rolled across my face, despite knowing this was the last time I would be in that dark moonlit room ever again. There was no point in soiling the moment by wracking my brain with thoughts of the future. Tonight, I’d let myself be carried off into a peaceful sleep.
The next morning, for the first time, I awoke before Michael. I slid out of bed without waking him and got my things together quickly. As I unfastened the choker around my neck and placed it on his nightstand, I took one last look at him sleeping there.
Remember the goal.
I shut the bedroom door behind me and headed out of the apartment.
“Good morning, Miss Audrey,” the doorman said, flashing me a smile as he held the door open.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief while on the road that morning when I bypassed the bridge and took an exit that led out of the city. My mind wandered while my hand hung out the window and flew through the wind. Michael would wake up soon and find me gone. He wouldn’t ask where I went, because he already knew.
I would be where I always wanted to be, long before he came into the picture.
THE MISSING INGREDIENT
BY ABELLA DANGER
“I can’t believe this is happening. Is this a dream?” he asked as he entered me.
It was the first time anyone had ever fucked me, taking my innocence. I moaned in a low voice as he thrust in and out, in and out of my virgin hole.
I felt pressure, I felt full; I felt something, but not the feeling that I had imagined. Not the feeling that I had learned to give myself with my finger, or by humping my pillow.
This was … different.
He turned me over, gripped my butt cheeks, and thrust in and out. Groaning louder than me, he kept a constant rhythm. I was close, but not quite there, when he pulled out, ripped the condom off, and released his milky load all over my butt.
That’s it? I wondered. I was underwhelmed, but I reminded myself I had made him do this. In fact, I had begged him.
You see, somehow I was the only virgin among my friends, the only one left silent during conversations of sex with “the loves of our lives” and “the ones.” Of course, I knew the first person I had sex with wouldn’t be the love of my life or the one, and I didn’t want him to be. I didn’t want to deal with the headache of a high school romance just to have an excuse to experience sex.
I wanted to lose my virginity to someone I trusted, someone I could never hate. Who better than my best friend Evan?
I spent almost every single day with him, and that day was no different. We were in our friend Greg’s room: Evan, me, Greg. Three friends hanging out, no big deal. But suddenly, something came over me—I can’t really explain what. Maybe it was the way Evan looked that day. Maybe it was where I was in my cycle. Or maybe I was just finally ready to do the damn thing.
I looked right at Evan. “I want you to take my virginity right now,” I told him, plain as day, in front of Greg, who did nothing to hide his shock.
“Please don’t ask any questions, just please do this for me, I’ll never regret losing it to you,” I continued.
“Sure,” Evan replied as Greg watched on in awe.
So there I was, the deed was done, I was no longer pure and innocent. Just disappointed. Why hadn’t I felt the way I had with my finger, why wasn’t it like grinding on my pillow?
I had to know.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt a burning sensation concentrated in my thighs. Great, I thought. I was finally “a woman” and the only difference was this awful soreness. All day I felt the discomfort—in school, up and down the countless stairs; at dance, marking as many movements as I could; in the parking lot standing beside my friends and their cars. This was always my favorite part of the day—not that we did much, but when you’re young and constantly told what to do, doing absolutely nothing is the best.
“It was so fucking tight, Andy,” said Evan, recounting details to our friend about our little affair. I stood there with a grin as I watched a similar one form on Andy’s face, listening to Evan’s account of the deflowering.
“When is it my turn?” Andy joked, laughing.
I smiled. “Okay,” I casually replied, to everyone’s surprise.
The thing is, Andy, Evan, none of them understood how badly I wanted to cum from sex. How much I wanted to experience the orgasms I gave myself with a man during sex, like the way girls gushed over and over all over a dick in a porno.
I craved that.
Andy didn’t have his own car, so we went inside Evan’s, all three of us in the back seat of the Cadillac Escalade. I turned to face the window on Evan’s side, arched my back, and stuck out my plump ass cheeks that separated just enough to show the opening of my tight little pussy. With surprising force, Andy entered me—in and out, in and out.
I felt full again.
Just a couple minutes into the hard pounding, Evan unzipped his pants and gestured my mouth towards his cock. Without any thinking necessary, I opened wide as drool fell onto his dick. I swallowed it whole, gagging, gargling, and sucking as I got fucked harder and harder. As if they had done this kind of thing before and they were seasoned pros—or had seen it in a porno. They turned me around and I was now facing Andy’s cock. He entered my mouth as Evan entered my pussy, and I heard myself moan.
They’re using my holes as they please, I thought, and smiled. I was starting feel full, I was starting to feel good—but still, not the way I made myself feel.
Once again, the boys came, and I was left unsatisfied.
We jumped out of the humid car that now smelled distinctly of sex, latex, and weed. The boys high-fived each other and let me know this was going to happen again. It was odd, but even though I wasn’t getting the pleasure I wanted from them, the fact that they were so pleased from our encounter gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. After our little impromptu threesome, we went to eat greasy burgers and then I went home.
Smelling like sex, latex, and weed, I took off my school uniform, my dance leotard underneath, then finally my underwear and stepped into the shower. I turned the water as hot as I could ever possibly bear, stroked my hair down to my chest, and gripped onto my boobs. My hands ended at my clit. I loved feeling the difference in the wetness between the water, my pussy juice, and spit, the way they’re all wet in different ways. I rubbed my clit with my back leaned against the wall, clenching and relaxing my ass cheeks in a steady motion, muffling my moans. I didn’t stop until I came so hard I almost fell in the shower. I turned off the water, dried myself off, and lay on my bed.
Why can’t I feel this way during sex?
In the next few months, I went on to explore sex with even more boys—eight more to be exact. I loved having sex because I loved how much guys enjoyed having sex with me. I felt full, felt good, felt something—but not feeling it. It, as in, the sensation I craved so much to enjoy with someone, caused by someone, a man.
Six or seven months after losing my virginity, I was sitting at home wondering what to do with my day when I got a text from my friend Evelyn.
Evelyn: I need your help
Me: What’s wrong?
Evelyn: I’m on a date with this guy and he doesn’t want his friend Kim to be alone, can you keep her company? ;)
Me: Sure lets meet by the Ferris wheel
Evelyn: thank you I love you!
As I made my way towards the bright and colorful ride crowded with teenagers around my age, I laughed at how eagerly they were all waiting to have a couple minutes of private makeout time.
“Hey, baby girl!” I kissed Evelyn on the cheek in proper Miami greeting fashion. “What’s up?”
“Jane, this is Michael, and this is Kim.” Evelyn introduced us, and my eyes met Michael’s big, round brow
n eyes decorated by shapely yet thick eyebrows. I’d never felt such an immediate, intense, uncontrollable connection. Although in reality it only lasted a few seconds, our gaze felt like hours.
I decided then that the boy would be mine.
“Hi,” we said at almost at the same time, while simultaneously kissing each other on the cheek. I could feel the lips between my legs get moist in the corner of my thighs.
“We want to go on the Ferris wheel,” Evelyn continued, oblivious to the insane connection Michael and I had just made.
“Sure, I’m down,” I answered, and we walked up to the line. In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the conductor stopped us, informing us that Michael and I couldn’t bring our food on the ride—my candy apple, his large soda freeze.
“Well, we could just wait while you guys go,” I spit out. “I just got this and I don’t wanna throw it away.”
“Yeah, it’s so fucking hot I need my drink,” Michael agreed, and my heart skipped a beat.
Still oblivious, Evelyn shrugged.”Ok, meet us at the green monster rollercoaster!” she yelled, as she led Kim to accompany her in the line.
Michael and I walked away and found a bench in between the two rides. We talked and talked, completely ignoring our phones for once. Michael was in college. A man. He was experienced, but not overwhelmingly so, and he had things to teach me.
I had things I wanted to learn from him.
Finally, our faces got so close to each other’s it was almost a test of who would kiss whom first. He grabbed my face with his strong, yet delicate, hands and kissed me so hard I could feel it in my fingers, in my toes, my hair. And in between my legs.
I melted. I had never been kissed like that. It was barely an open-mouthed kiss, but it had so much passion behind it.
That night in bed, the next morning in school, the afternoon during dance, all I could think about was Michael—his eyes, and his mouth, his voice. I wanted him so bad that I was scared to have sex with him, frightened he wouldn’t like it, fearful of rejection. I briefly thought of Evelyn, but decided she would understand, and went back to fantasizing sex with Michael.
Right when I got home from school, he texted.
Michael: Can I pick you up?
Me: yes, please
I came outside dressed in my favorite low-rise jeans and a cropped tank top. Suddenly shy, I looked to the ground until I opened the car door and my eyes met his again.
“Hi,” we said to each other, again almost at the same time. I got in and closed the door. He again grabbed my face with those strong, delicate hands and kissed me. If it were possible, this kiss was longer, more passionate, had more tongue, and then … he stopped. I smiled, he smiled, and we drove away.
By the time we entered his bedroom, I was so nervous that my hands were sweating. My clit was tingling, and I wanted him inside me. He placed me on his bed facing him, and I couldn’t even speak.
“I know you’re nervous,” he said, “but I promise, I just want to make you feel good.”
Shocked, I wondered silently to myself, Is that really what he wants? To make me feel good? I didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but the fact that he even said those words were enough to have me gushing downstairs, so I let him go on. He opened his mouth while grabbing my neck.
“Give me your tongue,” he commanded, and so I did. Sucking on it gently, but with emotion, he then kissed my chin, down to my neck, back up to my ears, down my shoulders to my chest, then my stomach, and, only then, finally, did he place his mouth is on my lips—the wet aching lips between my legs. I had never had anyone ever do that to me—he made out with my clit softly, sucking and humming. Running his hands all over my body, I clenched and relaxed my ass cheeks in a rhythmic motion with my eyes closed, moaning as loudly as I ever had, gripping onto the headboard for dear life until I felt this sweet, oh so very sweet, orgasm just burst. It wasn’t the feeling I knew so well how to give myself. It was better. And he wasn’t even finished. Breathing heavily, I couldn’t believe that had just happened.
He kissed me, and I could taste my cum. I loved it. I loved that he made me cum. I told him so.
“Can I do it again?” he asked, and I nodded with a shy smirk. Picking me up in one swoop, he put me up against the wall—my cheek, my chest, my stomach. He grabbed my hair with one hand, placing the other on the small of my back, and forced me to arch it until my face was right under his. Euphoria. His hard dick slid inside me and I, to my disbelief, I came again after just three strokes.
“You’re so good, you make me feel so good,” I yelled as he thrusted in and out, in and out.
“This is all for you,” he whispered, “this is all to make you feel good.” The walls of my vagina clenched as I came again. This time, he came too.
We went to his bed. I couldn’t stop smiling. I finally had an orgasm with someone, and it was exactly how I didn’t want to lose my virginity: in a high school romance I knew would never last past my teen years. But I guess that’s what the missing secret ingredient was all along.
I think it was worth it.
ON THE PROWL
BY ANNIE CRUZ
Frankie had a rule: Never fuck someone more than once. Unless they were good. Then she fucked them twice. If she fucked them more than twice, they gained potential to be booty calls. But she got bored easily, and it was very rare for her to have a repeat offender.
On Friday, Frankie ended the week with an impromptu threesome with her roommate Andrew, and his friend Brandon. The thing about Frankie was this: when she saw something she liked, she went after it. She and Andrew already had a history together because they used to bang regularly, back when they were just neighbors in downtown LA. Even after Andrew found himself a girlfriend, they remained friends, and eventually, they moved in together. They had only been living together two weeks when Brandon and a few girls came over to hang out. Frankie had never met Brandon before, but was drawn to him immediately and knew at some point before the end of the night, he would be inside her. So naturally, it wasn’t long before she was locking lips with him on the couch.
As the place cleared out towards the end of the evening, Frankie led Andrew and Brandon back into her bedroom. No one wasted any time as clothes went flying all over the room, and two cocks were immediately shoved down Frankie’s hungry throat. Both were rock hard and ready for all of her holes. Brandon lay on his back as she lowered her wet cunt on top of his long dick. Andrew came in from behind, sliding his thick cock into her asshole. They swapped positions throughout the night, double-penetrating her and making her cum continuously until the sun came up. Brandon soon shot his load all over Frankie’s mouth, while Andrew finished all over her ass.
Sound asleep after getting properly fucked by two men, Frankie woke up to Brandon underneath the covers, his mouth inhaling her pussy. To her right was Andrew, whose hard dick was now in her hand as she slowly stroked him.
“Fuck,” she said under her breath. “I’m gonna fucking come.”
Andrew’s hand quickly moved to her throat, choking her just the way she liked. “Cum for us,” he whispered in her ear.
As Frankie’s body moved uncontrollably on the bed, Brandon’s hard cock was already inside her tight, wet, coming pussy. Andrew silenced her moans with his cock, while Brandon fucked her until he unloaded a second time all over her pussy. Flipping her onto her knees, Andrew quickly thrust his dick into her from behind for his turn. As she felt her cunt tighten around his dick, he knew she was going to cum again. He quickly flipped her over back again, pulling out and shooting a hot load down her throat.
Just another Saturday morning.
Later that evening, Frankie went on the prowl. While partying with friends at a local nightclub, she eyeballed two good-looking guys by the bar. As she walked past one of them, she grabbed his ass like a perverted man would do to an unsuspecting woman. Walking past, she turned to catch his stare. He smiled. She joined them and exchanged numbers. Two nights later, she would fuck one of them. Th
is was how Frankie operated: One down, onto the next.
On Sunday there was Wes, whom she’d met online, and upon meeting in person, he’d instructed her to answer the door in nothing but a sweater and high heels. She did what she was told, and he rewarded her with his tongue up her ass. That same night, she met up with Joseph, who was completely unaware that he was feasting on Wes’s sloppy seconds.
Those were the first and last times she would see either of them.
On Tuesday there was Michael. And on Wednesday, there was Patrick.
Patrick was a beautiful creature. His photos on his dating profile did him absolutely no justice. There was sophistication about him. He was well dressed, stood tall, had light brown hair, hypnotizing green eyes, and a tight, fit body. Frankie was in such lust the second she let him in the front door. In his hand he held a bottle of champagne, which they immediately popped open before going straight for the bedroom.
Smiling, Patrick shut the door behind him just before grabbing Frankie by her face and sinking his lips into hers. Pushing him onto her bed, she straddled him—their tongues colliding as they continued to kiss. She slowly started to grind against the raging hard-on growing in his pants. With their lips still locked, she gradually found her way onto her knees, staring up at him as she unbuckled his belt. It was the moment of truth, and she felt like she won the lottery. Not only was this guy good-looking, but the monstrosity she had just unleashed from his pants was thick and beautiful. She wrapped her lips around the head of his dick and slowly took him, inch by inch, down her throat. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks as she choked on it for a moment, and as she gasped for air on the way up, Patrick pulled her onto the bed.
“Sit on my face,” he said.
Frankie did what she was told. He ate her cunt from underneath her, while she sucked on his dick at the same time. After a few minutes of this, she spun around to face him. Teasing him, she slowly started rubbing her wet pussy against his cock. He quickly grabbed her by her hips, stopping her then lifting her so that her cunt sat just above his dick. A soft moan escaped her lips as she lowered herself onto his big cock.