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o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Love Thy Neighbour (MF, prostitution, voy, mast)
by Steve wolvie@btinternet.com
Date: November 1999
***
How many of you really know the people on your street? You may see
them in the morning. Nod cheerfully to them as you all climb into
your cars on the way to work. You may stop and chat once in a while,
while working in the garden. You listen attentively at the wall for
the slightest noise, when you know your neighbours are fighting. You
may even stop in for coffee at a few of your neighbours, or invite
them to a meal once in a while. But the chances are that you don't
really know them. You have secrets you want to keep from them, and
vice versa, they have secrets they want to keep from you.
We all go along with this, moving through the days, weeks, and years
without giving it a second thought. Here's where I differ from the
rest of you. Up until September, I had been just like you. Setting
off to work every day, concerned more about what I was going to do
with the day rather than what my neighbours would be up to. Then, I
developed a problem with my knee. A semi-serious problem. It didn't
stop me doing most things, I could walk, run, and climb, but it did
stop me from driving, and that in turn stopped me from working. I
joined the ranks of the long-term sick, continued to receive my pay
cheque, and sat and took it easy. The first few weeks were fine; I
managed to get all the little jobs that pile up done. Then in the
third week, a malaise started to creep in. I had nothing to do,
nowhere to go, and loads of time to kill. I started to get depressed.
We have a no smoking policy in our house, enforced on the majority (me
& my father) by the minority (my mother). This means that whenever we
want to smoke, we have to stand at the back door. From here, you can
see the entrance to our neighbour's house and the fronts of two houses
across the street. After smoking almost continuously when the
depression set in, I started to notice the comings and goings of the
people in the street. I started to pick up on when the mums walked
their kids to school, when they came back, when they went out
shopping, when they took the dog for a walk, and when they sat in the
garden. With nothing else to do, my mind filed away the regular
times, and I would find myself subconsciously having a cigarette when
these women went about their daily routines.
November, and by now I'm on speaking terms with most of the people who
walk past the house. I started with a friendly hello, and progressed
to the point where I usually walk down to the garden gate and have a
chat. Most people would interrupt me now, and say that most women at
home do what I do, stop and chat with the other women. I have two
replies. One, I'm male, and two, you don't know the half of it all.
I think it's time I gave you a complete picture of our street, and the
people who live on it. It will come in useful later on.
It's a very small street, 8 semi-detached houses and 1 detached
(that's 5 buildings in all). Down the left side (as you stand at the
top of the street) there is a vacant house, and then next to that is
where Jody lives. She's a 70 odd year old widower, who is always first
with any gossip. Next up is Graham's house, he's in his 50's. Next
is Sheila's house, she's a big Irish woman in her 60's. Then last on
this side is the detached house where Steve and Mandy live with their
two teenage sons. They are in their late 30's
On the right hand side of the road, we start with Linda's house. She
recently separated from her husband and is in the process of moving.
She is in her mid 30's and has two pre-teen daughters Emma and Becky.
Next is our house. I haven't introduced myself yet, so now would be a
good time. I'm John (28), and I live with my mum Chrissie (45) and
dad Bob (52). Next along are some newcomers. At this time in
November, I didn't know their names, so called them Dick and Helen to
myself. Of course whenever I spoke to them, I used terms like
'neighbour' to bridge this gap in my knowledge. They were a couple,
in their late 30's, early 40's, and they seemed to keep themselves to
themselves. Last on the row was a bloke who worked somewhere in the
City. I never spoke to him, even through what I'm about to tell you,
so this is the last time I mention him.
Well, there you have it. An average small street, with varied age
groups, and varying social status. Nothing in common you would think?
It's time to enlighten you.
It started with a routine fantasy. For quite a while, I had fancied
Mandy across the street. The front of their house was one of the ones
I could see clearly from our door when I was having a smoke, and even
before I noticed any of the other people's movements on the street, I
had noticed Mandy. She was only small, around 5ft 3in, and not very
endowed in the breast department from what I could tell beneath her
clothes. She had black hair cut in a fashionable 'scruffy' bob, and
looked just like your average housewife who had to deal with teenage
kids. She always seemed shy whenever I met her on the street, and
looked weary from her daily routine. I had only spoken to her husband
Steve a couple of times, and my first impression was that he was a
demanding man. One of those who ordered her around a lot. He was
well built, at least 6ft, and I thought that would seem very menacing
to someone who was only 5ft 3. I suppose one of the reasons that I
was attracted to her was the hopelessness I saw in her situation. I
wanted to be the man who, to steal a cliché, would be the one to 'take
her away from all that'.
I soon started talking to her, finding an excuse to walk out to the
street as she was passing, but the conversation was limited. She
would give monosyllabic answers, and generally not be interested.
Even with my idea of what her life was like, I understood that the
reason she was so standoffish was because she WAS happy at home. The
situation called for a kick-start.
Our upstairs landing window looked out onto their house with the same
sort of view as our front door. It was a large window, 5ft square,
and I would often see Mandy in her kitchen, or pegging the washing on
the line from this vantage point. This window was the turning point.
The curtain rail on this window was broken so the curtains just got
left open, and at night I sleep naked. When it's dark, this bothers
nobody. With the light off, I can walk around and no one in the world
outside is any the wiser.
Anyway, one morning I woke up bursting for a piss. Usually I drag on
some pants before making my way to the bathroom for the morning
rituals, but as I was so desperate this morning, I just wandered out
as I was. I opened the bedroom door, and had to squint as the
sunlight through the landing window burnt my sleepy eyes. I slouched
across to it, to see what was happening in the street on this morning.
It was one of my daily rituals, get up, look outside, piss, wash, and
eat. However, I had forgotten that I was naked, an easy thing to do
when you wander about at night naked like I do. Anyway, I'm there in
the window, stretching and yawning and looking at the street below
when I see Mandy coming out of her house, taking the dogs for a walk.
She looks up as she nears our house, and I give a little wave. She
just keeps walking, although her eyes never leave the window until she
goes out of view. I just shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom.
It was only when I started having a piss that I realised that I had
just stood there in full view of Mandy, stark bollock naked. Not only
that, but like most men in a morning, I had the obligatory erection,
another thing I don't usually notice as it happens so often. 'Oh
fuck!' I thought to myself. 'What do I do now?'
I finished my toilet duties, and threw on some clothes. Jesus!
Standing in the window with 8" of meat stood out. I honestly thought
she was going to ring the police and report me as a pervert! I made
myself a large cup of coffee and went over my options. I could wait
for her coming back with the dogs and apologise, or I could hide for
the next 20 years. I could honestly see no way out of it. I was
going to have to face the music and grovel for forgiveness. Unless I
brazen it out. Yes, that was another option. When she comes back
with the dogs, go out and flirt with her. The more I thought about
it, the more I liked it, although the odd thoughts like 'she'll tell
her husband and he'll kill you' came into my mind, but my sex starved
mind dismissed these and pushed the flirt idea even further forward.
I rushed upstairs to find some appropriate clothing. I dug out my
tightest jeans that showed my prick off the most, and pulled on a
comic T-shirt emblazoned with little cartoon women masturbating in a
variety of styles. Although casual, it still exerted strong sexual
overtones. Just the look I needed.
Twenty minutes had passed since the window episode, and I knew she
would be back very soon. I grabbed my car keys and pack of cigarettes
and went outside. I opened the car and flicked open the hood, lit up
a cigarette, and looked into the engine compartment with a puzzled
expression. This was my excuse for being out on the street, one that
I used regularly. I kept glancing up the street, to see if she was on
her way back, and when I saw the dogs come bounding round the corner I
pulled the dipstick out and started looking at it, just as if I was
actually checking the oil. As she started to walk behind me, I turned
round, just in time to see her checking out my ass before her eyes
came to meet mine.
"Nice Morning Mandy." I said, leaning back on the car to make my groin
stretch the jeans a little more.
"Yes." She replied in her usual 'not-interested' tone, although her
eyes gave her away as she sneaked a look down towards my crotch.
"Anything planned for today? The weathers going to be great. Very
warm for the time of year." My mind had gone blank. Instead of the
double entendres I wanted to use, I was talking about the bloody
weather.
"Well.. I was going to treat myself today to a barbecue. Just a
small affair before the kids and Steve get home. For some reason,
I've got a taste for some meat today."
I couldn't believe it. There was I, struggling over something flirty
to say, and she just does it for me. Small affairs and a taste for
meat! Surely what she was saying was completely innocent?
"Do you fancy coming over later? There should be enough for just the
two of us." She smiled a dirty, lecherous smile while her eyes
constantly flicked between my eyes and my crotch. I instantly
stiffened under her gaze, and my cock bulged even further in my jeans.
I could tell she noticed as her eyes widened just a touch.
"Of course I'll come over. It saves me cooking some dinner." Shit,
shit, shit! What a dumbass thing to say. She seemed to take my
reaction in her stride though. I didn't think this was the first time
she had done something like this.
"I'm a bit short on some things," she said. "Can you bring over some
sausage? Oh, and don't forget some sauce." I honestly thought my
erection would tear through my jeans and burst out. It was getting
painful. I just looked into her eyes, loosing myself as I stared
deeper and deeper.
"Hadn't you better go and answer the phone?" The phone? The phone?
Shit, the phone was ringing. Saved by the bell. God knows what my
erection would have done in my pants if I hadn't been called away. As
I shuffled away towards the door, I heard her shout behind me.
"Come about midday. I'll be out in the back yard."
I just gave her the thumbs up as I retreated into the sanctuary of my
house. As I shut the door, I quickly climbed out of my jeans and
underpants to release the tension on my throbbing cock. I hurried to
the phone, and picked up the handset.
God! I was so worked up from that encounter with Mandy. I grabbed my
cock with my free hand and started to slowly pull my foreskin back and
forth.
"Hello?" I said, into the handset.
"John. I'm going to be late home tonight. Make yourself something to
eat tonight will you?" It was my mum. She'd been phoning me up a lot
recently, always with something trite to tell me. I was 28 years old.
I didn't need telling to make myself something to eat. Most nights I
cooked for myself anyway.
"Yes mum. Is there anything else?" I was wanking myself faster now,
trying to release some of the sexual tension that had built up.
"No that's it. Wait a minute. What's the knocking sound? That
'thup, thup, thup' noise?" Shit! My mum could hear me wanking.
There's always a little noise, but I didn't realise that it would be
picked up by the mic in the phone.
"Er, Just the dishwasher. It sometimes makes that noise." Although
I had been shocked when my mum could hear me wanking, it hadn't put me
off my stroke. My hand was pounding up and down faster and faster
now. It wouldn't be long before I erupted.
"Mmmm.. Do you think I should call out a repair man?"
"No.. No.. " I stammered. I was going to cum.
"OK then. I'll see you later. Love you." This was it.. This was
it..
"Oh God!!!!" The thick white cream burst from the end of my cock,
landing rather unfortunately in the margarine tub sitting on the
kitchen worktop. I shuddered as the climax ripped through me. It was
one of the most powerful I'd ever had, and it was all down to Mandy
(and my hand of course). My cock jerked and sent more streams of jism
over the cutting board and worktop.
"What was that John? Are you OK?" My cock's twitching finally
subsided, and I collapsed onto one of the kitchen stools.
"I'm fine mum," I panted. "Got a bit carried away with the
television. See you later." And with that I hung up.
This was no ordinary morning. When I recovered from my orgasm, I went
upstairs and showered. The more I thought about Mandy and her
barbecue, the more I thought it was a bad idea. The sexual need had
been sated by that orgasm, and going over to Mandy's house no longer
appealed as much as when she said it. The thoughts of her husband
beating me up came back, and this time there was no resistance to
that. When I came out of the shower I dressed a little more
conservatively, throwing on a simple white T-shirt and normal blue
jeans.
Well, now I was stuck with a different dilemma. Do I go over there at
noon? Or do I just stay here? Most men would say 'go over there',
but the fact is, when confronted with their fantasy most men would run
a mile. The situation called for another mug of coffee, and some
breakfast. Toast was order of the day, and I dropped a few slices of
bread into the toaster. I finished making my coffee while the toaster
did its job. The toast popped up, I reached for a knife, and spread
the margarine. I took a large bite out of the toast and suddenly
remembered I had shot a load of jism right into the margarine tub. My
memory was terrible this morning, first forgetting I was naked, then
forgetting what to say to Mandy, and now forgetting that I had just
sent my seed into the margarine pot. What next?
The toast didn't taste too bad even with the added ingredient of my
jism, so I carried on eating, putting it all down to experience. I
looked at the clock in the kitchen. 11:30. Shit! Only another half
an hour before I had to be at Mandy's. I still hadn't decided whether
I would go or not. The post dropped through the letterbox, late as
always, and I went to open it. I had a statement from the bank and an
itemised phone bill from the cell phone company. Exciting stuff as
always, I glanced at the itemised bill. The usual calls to my best
friends mobile and house numbers, and the rest were to massage
parlours in the City.
I had not had a steady girlfriend for a couple of years now; the
shifts that I worked sort of killed any relationship that I got
involved in. To combat the building sexual urges that everyone gets,
I had started going to massage parlours. Sex at an affordable price
with no emotional commitment. Seems ideal huh? Far from it.
Although I got to have sex, it was really just like masturbation with
a woman's body being substituted for my hand. I enjoyed the sessions
I had, but not that much. The emotional aspect of sex seems to
enhance the whole act, and without some sort of feelings between
people involved, the sex seems flat. Some parts of it turned me on,
like the whole idea of paying for sex, and the slight domination side
of ordering a woman to perform for you, but in general I was getting
bored of going. Then my mind started going again. What if this
thing with Mandy pays off? It's a darn sight cheaper than paying at a
massage parlour, and because I already know Mandy, maybe the emotional
side to the sex will be there too? My mind was made up. I was
nervous as hell, but I was going to go over there and see what
happens. Besides, all this might be due to my overactive imagination.
Mandy might actually have no intention of doing anything other than
have a barbecue. I went back up to the bathroom where I brushed my
teeth again just to be sure, then looking at my watch I decide that it
was now or never. Back downstairs, I grabbed the house keys and went
out, locking the door behind me.
I could see her as I turned from the door; she was stood in the
doorway of her house wearing a very enticing red mini skirt, and a
tight white T-shirt. My cock gave a little twitch in my pants in
acknowledgement. She gave a little wave and headed off into her back
yard. The weather was beautiful, lovely blue skies, and a reasonable
temperature of around 65 degrees. It seemed more like a summer day
than the first week in November, but who am I to complain?
My heart was beating faster and faster as I walked over to her house.
I was nervous for obvious reasons. Although her back yard was pretty
secluded, anybody on the street could see me walking over there and
then come to their own conclusions about what we were doing, which if
they were like mine, would all be bad. I walked past her door and
into the back yard where she was sat with her feet up on a garden
lounger. Although her legs were not spread apart, the mini skirt had
rode up slightly, and when I walked into the yard I had an unexpected
flash of her white panties.
"Come and sit down," She smiled.
I looked around, and was not really surprised to see that there was no
barbecue equipment here at all. She patted the lounger at the side of
her, and motioned with her eyes that I should sit. I approached
slowly, my heart racing, all the time looking at her figure. Under
the clothes I usually saw her in, you couldn't tell if she had a good
body or not. She favoured baggy jumpers and thick coats most of the
time. Today though you could see what an excellent body she had. Her
firm, large breasts pushed against the thin white material of her
T-shirt, with the slight breeze causing her nipples to stand erect. I
tell you, the T-shirt was pulled so thin that it was almost
transparent, and my cock twitched again at her. I met her eyes, and
she smiled.
"Sit down." She commanded. "I'm not going to bite."
She moved her legs, and I sat down next to her. As soon as I was
seated, up came her legs again, which she placed across me.
"My husband doesn't like my legs anymore. What do you think of them?"
She rubbed her legs together, each movement making her short mini
skirt ride up even further. This was it! A full-blown seduction.
Every preconception of her was shattered at that moment. I was on
unsteady ground here, and was not experienced enough to deal with.
"Your legs are beautiful." I stammered.
"I knew you'd like them. Why don't you feel how smooth they are."
I nervously placed a hand on her leg around the knee, and moved it
slowly towards her ankle. I was shaking like a leaf, unsure of what
to do.
"Do they feel good then?" She placed one of her hands on top of mine
and moved my hand up her leg, towards her thigh.
"They feel a lot nicer near the top." Our hands were moving nearer
and nearer to her genitals, but she stopped just before we reached
there.
"Can I get you a drink?" She pushed my hand off her legs and stood up
quickly.
"Tea, Coffee, or something stronger?" She said smiling at me.
I looked up at her bemused. I thought we were well on our way to a
satisfying sexual encounter, and although my nerves were pleased she
had called a refreshment 'time-out', my libido was screaming 'no'. I
didn't really know what to say, my throat was dry from the sexual
tension that had been building around us, and in my inexperienced way,
I just managed to stammer "Just a glass of water please."
She wandered off inside to get the drinks, leaving me sat in her back
yard with a huge and almost painful erection, and without a clue on
what was going to happen next. My eyes roamed the garden and then
drifted up to the wall of the house. I was sure I caught a flicker of
movement from one of the upstairs windows, but when I stared, there
was no sign of anyone there.
My beautiful host returned carrying two glasses of iced water on a
tray, and offered one of them to me. She placed the other glass on
the floor at the side of the lounger and stood the now empty tray up
against the wall, and then she sat down beside me once again.
I sipped at the water, relishing the cool feel of it as it slipped
down my parched throat. Mandy took my hand once again, and placed it
down on her knee, but this time she held my hand steady there.
"Tell me a little about yourself John. I know we live across the road
from one another, but I really know very little about you."
"Well, there's not a lot to tell really." I said modestly. I hate
talking about myself, I am not proud of my job, have no real
accomplishments to reel off, and find myself generally dull.
"Come on," she said, nudging me. "I want to know about you. Tell me
something personal. Tell me about how you lost your virginity or
something, I'll tell you how I lost mine afterwards."
Something personal. Well, if that was the way it was going to be
played, I wouldn't disappoint her. I had never told anyone how I had
lost my virginity for the simple reason I wasn't particularly proud of
myself. But I found myself thinking that if I lied to her, she would
somehow know. So I decided to tell her the truth and see what came of
it. I blushed as I repeated the story of how when I was 20, partly
lured by a friend, but also very curious, I was taken to a massage
parlour in Manchester. After being let in the door by a big bouncer
chap, we climbed a set of narrow, squeaky stairs, and headed towards a
scruffy reception desk. A large sign on the wall explained the
pricing structure. £5 for a sauna, £10 for sauna & massage. My
friend immediately asked for sauna & massage, but I bottled it and
just asked for the sauna. While undressing for the sauna, my friend
asked me what I was doing. I replied that I just wanted a sauna. He
told me that unless I had a massage as well, I wouldn't get laid. So,
dressed only in a towel, I nipped back to the reception desk and paid
for a massage as well. Sitting with my friend in the dingy sauna, I
was nervous as hell. There was a quick knock on the sauna door, and a
beautiful brunette asked if there was anyone for a massage. I urged
my friend to go, as I was still almost terrified. She led him by the
hand, out of the sauna, and through a door opposite. I was on my own
now, and almost shaking with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.
There was another knock on the sauna door, and this time a gorgeous
blonde poked her round and asked if I was for a massage as well. I
said yes, or more true to life, croaked yes. She grabbed my hand and
took my through a different door at the end of the room. It was dimly
lit with a pink bulb. A tall bed, the massage table, stood against
one wall, and the only other things in the room were a poster of a
naked girl on the wall, a bedside table with a box of tissues and a
couple of condoms on it, and a chair with a couple of towels draped
across. She urged me to lie down on the bed, I lay face down, keeping
the towel around me. I asked whether I should leave it in, and she
replied that it was better off. As I threw the towel to the ground I
realised that I was naked in front of a woman for the first time since
I was a baby (or since my mum stopped bathing me). I was getting
aroused at just the thought of being naked with her. She climbed on
top of me and knelt astride my legs. She was wearing a white nurse
like uniform that didn't seem to fit very well, and then she laid her
arms upon me and started massaging my shoulders. It felt good, and I
could feel my erection growing already. Her hands slowly got lower
and lower down my back until she reached my arse, then I could feel
her fingertips gently touching my balls and cock as they lay beneath
me, exposed only by the small gap between my legs. She used he knee's
to ease my legs apart a bit further, and I groaned as her hands
caressed my inner thighs and balls again. "I think it's about time we
turned you over," she said. I was relieved, as my cock was getting
quite stiff and painful under me. I rolled over and my prick bounced
up, pointing straight at the ceiling. "God!" She smiled, "You're a
big boy aren't you." I didn't know what to say. I'd never seen
anyone else's, except in porn films, and mine looked just like them.
Her hands spread out on my chest, caressing my sides, and slowly
getting lower, nearer to my penis. She skirted it's shaft first time
round, sending a hand down each thigh, and bringing them back up again
so the fingertips gently passed over my sensitive inner thighs and
balls again. Then she went for my cock. Slowly circling the base, then
grabbing it softly, pumping my foreskin up and down nice and slow.
"So!" She asked, "Would you like any extra's?" I asked what there
was. "Hand relief at £10, Oral £20, full Sex £30, or a bit of
everything at £35." I wasn't sure what to do, and to buy myself some
time I asked her to repeat them again. As she went through the list
again, I bottled out about losing my virginity and just asked for
oral.
"OK," she said, and reached over onto the bedside table for a condom.
She ripped the package open, and rolled it down over my still rock
hard cock. When it was fully rolled on, it only went about three
quarters of the way down my shaft, but she just tossed her hair back
and let her lips descend on my swollen prick. It was the first time I
had experienced oral sex, and I was frightened by the possibility that
I might climax straight away. Maybe this fear was a good thing in the
end, as I didn't climax there and then. I lay back and started to
enjoy the sensation of her lips rising and falling over my shaft.
However nice the feeling was, the trepidation and fear I had felt
earlier was actually stopping me from coming, the sensation of oral
wasn't enough to take me over the edge, I needed more. I asked her if
I could change my mind and have a bit of everything. She said it was
OK, and asked what position I wanted. I wanted her to go on top, but
she said it would hurt her if she had to climb on top, so we settled
for the missionary position instead. She lay back on the massage
table, and I towered over her, prick in hand, about to lower myself
down into her. She reached out and grabbed my cock, and gently
directed it into her pussy. I'd love to be able to say she was wet
with anticipation, and that I rode her till she came screaming, but
this was my first time. She was a pro, and she was about as damp as a
cream cracker, and working girls rarely climax on the job. I pushed
my cock hard inside her, imitating all the films I'd seen, building up
a faster rhythm all the time. She moaned and groaned, but with no
real enthusiasm, and on the occasions I looked at her face, she was
looking away almost bored. Well, after that, coupled with the anxiety
and nerves, I knew down inside I wasn't going to climax inside her. I
pumped away for a few minutes more, then rolled off. She asked if she
could finish me by hand, and I told her yes. The condom came off, and
she smeared some KY over her hand, and began to wank me off. Her hand
became a blur, and with a judder I came. My semen burst out, fling
several feet in the air in the first initial spurts, then slowing down
and just oozing out over hand, still moving up and down my shaft
slowly. It was a great orgasm, the feeling was much more intense that
I was getting when masturbating at home. I thanked her, and she
passed over a box of tissues to 'clean' myself up with. The nurse's
uniform went back on and she disappeared out the door with a cheery
"You can pay me when your dressed love!"
I sat there on the massage table, tissues wrapped around my softening
cock wondering what had just happened. I had always pictured my first
time as something romantic, lasting all night, with soft lighting,
nice music, and someone I loved. The reality was a five-minute rush
job in a massage parlour on a Manchester back street. I mopped up my
jism, wrapped the towel around me again, and headed back to the
changing room. Fully dressed again, I headed to a small TV room where
my friend was sat with a cup of coffee talking to the girl who I had
just lost my virginity to. I got the money out of my wallet and
handed it to her, she gave it to the cashier at the desk and asked me
if I would like a cup of coffee as well. I said OK, and sat down next
to my friend. The girl returned with my coffee, handed it to me, and
sat down opposite us both. The small nurses uniform rode up, and I
was looking straight at her pussy again. Curiously enough, the
sneaked sight of her cunt turned me on a lot more than the whole
episode in the other room. It felt like I'd gained something. She
wasn't being paid now, and I don't think she realised that her pussy
was on full display, and I felt good. There again, I could have been
wrong. She could have known that she was giving both of us an eyeful
of pussy, enjoying the rushed glances we both made while we were
talking to her. When the coffees were finished, we said our goodbyes
and walked out. As I was walking down the road, I realised that I
didn't even know her name.
I turned to Mandy who had sat silently listening to my story. She
didn't look offended or shocked, and that surprised me. I needed a
response.
"So! Was that the sort of thing you expected to hear?"
"I didn't expect any of that. If only I'd known that you were a
virgin then, I would have done something about it instead of letting
you loose it to a prostitute. I always imagined you'd been fucking
since your school days."
"I'm painfully shy, or I was until a few years ago at any rate. OK,
now it's your turn. Enlighten me on how you lost your virginity."
"It's even better that what you've just told me, and a lot weirder."
She grabbed my hand and laid it on her moist pussy. I didn't resist.
"Play with my cunt while I tell you my tale. See how wet I get
talking about it."