Yeah, I know how it works. Sex stories are supposed to end in orgiastic, mind-blowing climaxes, where everybody gets their rocks off. But in real life, we all know it doesn’t always work out that way. Since the experiences I write about really happened to me, they don’t always end in predictable ways.
So here’s a story about the greatest birthday party of my life (so far) and how it led to some great but unusual sex (the best kind), not then, but a bit later.
As I’ve mentioned before I’m a 22-year-old woman with a sex drive that revs higher than most. I’ve been penis-obsessed since the time I figured out what an erection was, and that obsession has led to one of the two great fetishes of my life: sucking cock.
For the record, I also love receiving oral, but I’m consistently frustrated by how few guys know how to do it well. Too many of them feel like they have to attack the snatch, like my clit is some fugitive hiding out in a cave that has to be brought to justice. Boys, do your homework! When it comes to taking care of your little soldier, you can bet that I have.
Here’s the story of my first great foray into my other kink: exhibitionism. You know that dream that everybody has about being naked in some public setting? Yeah, it scares most people, but turns me on like nothing else does. I swear that once I almost came to orgasm just by lifting my skirt and sitting my bare ass on a greasy vinyl stool in a burger joint by a big window. I fantasize all the time about taking the subway or going to a baseball game stark naked, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, because it should be the most natural thing in the world.
Anyway, a couple of years ago, I turned 20 and, it will probably forever rank as the most memorable birthday of my life, though I will try to top it one day.
It was all supposed to happen on my 19th birthday, but didn’t for reasons I won’t go into — I was out of the country for one thing, and just went through a bad break-up, blah, blah, blah.
Anyway, I finally did it when I turned 20, the party I had been thinking about for a year. And, wow, was it amazing.
The idea came when a couple of girlfriends and I were in Mexico, in a little rented villa well north of Los Cabos in a remote place that was once a nice estate. We spent the days shopping for cheap blankets and flirting with the dumb American boys, but coming home alone anyway. One day we got up and decided to go swimming. I wanted to go nude and both my friends agreed and we walked down the footpath from the villa to the beach as naked as babies. My friend Astrid carried a gallon of water. Other than that we brought nothing, no blanket, no towels, no shoes, no clothes.
The beach was really quite secluded, but we had seen people down there a couple of days before, so it was a bit of risk. But we had a blast anyway, swimming, rolling around in the sand, feeling as free as we’ve ever felt.
The other girls got their exhibitionism out of their system after that, I suppose, but I found opportunities to be naked for the rest of the vacation. Then, sitting around drinking wine with my friends, I came up with an idea. I’m going to throw a big party for my next birthday, and wear my birthday suit. I would be nude and everyone else would be clothed, so it would be very easy to find the birthday girl. Great idea, said Astrid, but by the next morning, they had forgotten about it. But I had not.
So, as I said, it didn’t happen at 19. So I made it happen at 20.
My friends Eric and Leslie have this fabulous home in the hills near where I was living then. They were more than happy to host my birthday party. But they were a bit shocked when I told them that I planned on being nude the whole night. Still, they eventually agreed.
Here’s the part where I should say a little bit about my body and my looks. But I find it weird to do that, so I asked my friend Miles to do it for me. Miles (not his real name) is a neighbor of mine and, yes, we did do quite a bit of fucking before he found himself a monogamous girlfriend. He wasn’t at my 20th birthday party, but he’s seen me naked about as much as anyone has. So the following paragraph comes from Miles:
OK, Kelly is ungodly gorgeous. No bullshitting. Seriously, she’s like some model in a magazine. She’s very pretty. Kinda tall for a girl. Dark hair that’s about shoulder length. Round face and really nice green eyes. Sort of like a mix between Demi Moore and that chick from “Amelie.” Her body is goddam fabulous. Not big tits, but perky and really almanbahis sweet. Perfect ass, like a peach. Long, really fine legs. When I first met her, she was wearing a miniskirt and man, she was raising the temperature in the room. I got a steady girlfriend now and I try to be good, but I still get hard when Kelly looks at me that way. Now, I just try to be close and help protect her from creeps and shitheads. When you’re that gorgeous and that horny, you need a little protection sometimes.
God, I love that guy. For the record, I edited the above paragraph just for spelling and grammar, and he got my eye color wrong, so I changed that. Before, I would have sucked his dick for a favor like that, but now, he’ll have to go home and see if his little honey can give him some. Too bad.
Anyway, I spent weeks trying to look my best for the big day, my party. I’ve never had a weight problem. But I wanted to be a bit more toned, so I worked out some (not a lot, I think a lot of muscles look gross on girls).
Plus, no tan lines. I hate tan lines. I stayed out of the sun unless I was fully clothed or completely naked and covered in sunscreen. One of my problems is that I’m very fair-skinned. For weeks, I wore very loose, very un-sexy underwear to avoid the lines that tight panties and bras can imprint on your skin.
Then came the bikini wax issue. I went to the salon for a bit of consultation. “Is it still a bikini wax if I never wear bikinis?” I asked my waxer friend Sophie. Anyway, I asked her if I should take it all off down there — I didn’t have much to begin with. She told me that she advised some women to go bald downstairs and for others to keep the carpet. It depended a lot of how you were “cut,” meaning how your pussy looked hairless. For girls who weren’t slit very high, a full-on wax gave them a Barbie doll crotch. Not good. She also advised against it for anyone whose labia or clit were prominent. Me, I was a perfect candidate. I’m slit nice and high and I got nothing hanging down, just a nice little vertical smile. So it came all off and it stayed that way to this day.
Yes, I wanted a clean, bare look down there. But I wanted more. I didn’t want to see those angry hair follicles getting all pink down there. I wanted to keep the chicken skin to a minimum. I wanted it to look as if I’d never had pubic hair before. Sophie worked a few sessions on it, until we had it nice and smooth and baby soft. I was stoked.
When the day of the party came, I looked really good naked. But I was still very nervous. A lot of people I knew were coming and everybody was going to see everything I had.
I was dating a guy — we’ll call him Justin — who was also very excited. He was a great fuck, but, God bless him, he was kind of dumb. The plan was that I would emerge from a series of cardboard boxes me and my friends had designed to look like a giant birthday cake. I thought it would be cheesy, but it ended up looking pretty good. But about a half hour before the first guests were to arrive, I was feeling nauseous and thought fleetingly that I wouldn’t go through with it. Justin suggested a nice hard fucking to clear my head. He suggested that a lot back then. But this time, it sounded like a good idea.
So Justin fucked me like a wild animal. But even while he was rutting me from behind, I was thinking that I had to take another shower (I had already taken two showers that day) and lotion myself one more time.
But stepping in the shower, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Justin had been grabbing me by the ass while he was screwing me and, to my horror, there were his handprints clearly visible on my butt. God, how humiliating. I’d been planning this nude coming out party and everybody was going to see hands on my ass.
So I showered and lotioned and though it faded a bit, the handprints still shown pink against the white skin of my ass. Why did Justin have to act like such a damn ape?
The time came when my two best girlfriends came back and told me it was time for me to get into the “cake.” I crawled into a tight, dark space in the largest box, curled up like a baby in utero, and wearing as many clothes as a baby in utero would wear.
I was wheeled out in the living room and I could hear the sound of a crowd talking about the cake and about me. I was going out of my mind with anxiety. Then, the moment came and I burst out of the box into the light of the room, wearing only the thinnest little sheen of perspiration.
It was fantastic. Everybody greeted me with almanbahis giriş mixture of embarrassment and good humor. The guys tried not to stare. I tried to get them to stare. The other women treated me like that crazy kid sister that needs a little big-sisterly supervision. For the first half hour or so, I tried to position myself so no one could get a look at my ass. I was still convinced that Justin’s paw prints were still visible.
I blew out my birthday candles. I drank lots of really good wine. I opened presents. I even sang karoake, all completely naked and I never felt so alive in my life. As the night wore on, I began to feel more comfortable in front of friends and coworkers, but at any given moment, I might stop and say to myself “Oh, my God, girlfriend. You’re totally naked in front of everyone you know.” It was a tad hard to breathe sometimes. I had to go to the bathroom a few times just to wipe off the moisture from my body, both from sweat and from arousal, if you get my meaning.
The night did not end in an orgy. Everyone went home. Justin was horny as hell afterwards, but I just wanted to take a warm bath, put on some flannel jammies and go to sleep. Justin came in while I was in the bath with his giant hard-on and I sucked him off to put him out of his misery. Besides, I figured, the shot of protein might help me sleep.
A couple of months later, however, that night did lead to a great affair with this guy I’ll call Jeff. He was at the party that night, a friend’s date. She told me that night that he was kind of a self-involved jerk. But he had two things going for him. He was really good looking. And he was stinking rich. I met him out by the pool after the sun had gone down. I found it incredibly erotic that I was meeting this stranger in the back yard while naked. Thank God I had a drink in my hands, otherwise I’m not sure where my hands would have gone.
Jeff eyeballed me like a wolf looks at a lamb. He made no secret of his lusts, and it inflamed me pretty good. I thought for a second I might have to jump in the pool to cool myself off.
So, we talked a bit about inane bullshit, then he came right out and said he loves the bald-pussy look, and I launched into my bikini-wax experiences like we’re talking about the fucking weather or something. Then, he squatted and examined my cooch in the dim light like a jeweler appraising a diamond. He lifted up his hand to reach out to me and said, “May I?” looking up at me. “May you what?” I wanted to say. But I just said, “Sure.” He then reached out and petted my little twat like it was it was pet mouse. “Nice,” he said, “very smooth.” “Thanks,” I said, like an idiot. “Maybe we should go in now.”
So, a couple of months later, this guy calls me up out of the blue. He had gotten my number from my friend. He asked me out on a date. I said sure. We went to this fabulous restaurant, but I made him suffer by refusing to put out on the first date — yeah, I know, what a cocktease I am. The next weekend, however, I invited him over to my place to cook him a meal. That’s where we fucked like fiends all night long and it was out-of-this-world great.
It was that next morning that Jeff told me about his kink, and asked if I would participate in it with him. I’m always game for new experiences, so yeah, why not? He said he liked to have sex while doing business. I was confused, not knowing what that meant. He gave me the address to his house and asked me to come over the next morning, a Monday.
I skipped my classes that day and showed up at the address, stunned to find this immense new mansion in the hills, with stunning views and enormous gardens. I was greeted at the door by this really old skinny guy who introduced himself as Ramon. He was very friendly as he ushered me in. Standing in the foyer, he told me that he’d be happy to give me a tour of the house and/or the gardens if I wanted. Then, he said that Jeff had requested that I be nude my entire time in the house, he pointed to a small bathroom near the front door where I could keep my clothes.
I stood rooted to the floor for a minute or so, wondering what to do. Part of me wanted to split; this was feeling a little weird. But another part of me was turned on. Hell, the guy had already seen me naked. We’d already done it a bunch of times. Why not?
So, there I was, naked yet again, walking barefoot across the marble and hardwood floors while Ramon showed me the various rooms of the house. Eventually, we made to Jeff’s office. He was standing in the window, wearing almanbahis yeni giriş a white terry-cloth robe. In his ear was a bluetooth device and he was talking to someone on the other end.
Jeff was a day trader who made his fortunes by buying and selling stocks, or something. I never quite got it. All I knew is that he was constantly on the phone to one broker or another, speaking some stock-market gibberish, all day long. He told me that he was inspired when he was in college hearing that story about President Clinton getting his hose cleaned by Monica Lewinsky while he was on the phone to foreign leaders, and that he had try to do business like that as much as possible.
OK, this is pretty goddam perverse, I thought to myself. He wants me to be some combination of whore or White House intern servicing him while he’s talking to someone else. For about two seconds, I wanted to tell him to fuck himself and leave. Then, my animal lusts consumed me and I found, to my shock, that I was totally turned on by the idea.
So, there I was, on my knees in the center of this enormous office. He makes another call and walks over to me, where I undo the belt to his robe and pull it off. His dick was fabulous and I luxuriated in the feel of it. It was just like I like them. Soft as silk on the outside, hard as steel underneath.
I sucked on it slowly, like it was rich dessert. I licked the head and the pee hole, then I drew it back deep in my throat. Jeff keep jabbering and I could feel the rumble of his deep voice ever so slightly in the vibration of his penis. This went on for what seemed to be a really long time and it felt really weird, as if Jeff’s cock and I were doing something dangerous that Jeff himself didn’t even know about. I’ve often had the experience where I feel like I have two relationships with a guy, one with him and another with his cock. But I never felt that as strong as with this one.
I wanted him in my snatch really bad at this point, but I couldn’t take him out of my mouth. Soon, I could sense the train was about to arrive at the station and, wam, just like that, my mouth was full of boy batter, warm, sticky, disgusting and yet at the same time delicious. I pulled off and showed him the little puddle in my mouth. He was grinning widely, but still talking to someone else. He signaled me to swallow and I did. OK, so there was lunch.
There was an nice lounge chair by the window on the opposite side of the office and it was there where I hung out during the day between shaggings. I could read magazines or play on the laptop computer that was over there. Jeff gave a vibrator and asked me to play with it while he made another deal. I spread my legs and went to town, feeling like the most shameless slut on the planet.
We fucked more that day. He came at me from behind, pushing me face down on his desk, my ass hanging off the end, while he rammed me. I’m not a loud lay, exactly, but I don’t keep quiet either, and Jeff, to my surprise, encouraged me to yelp or moan or whatever. Obviously, the people at the other end of the line were familiar with his habits. Knowing some putz at a desk on Wall Street was hearing me yelp like a puppy was a real turn-on and I came like crazy.
At mid-day, we both took a shower and went out by the pool for a swim. Lounging in the sun, I leaned over to have another go at that beautiful pecker, but Jeff put on his earpiece again and began making calls. Geez, does this guy ever give it a rest? A few minutes later, he was slowly screwing me missionary and I was feeling nice. He pulled out and I switched again, dropping to my knees. While I was sucking him, I heard him call for Ramon. The old butler came out with a small silver serving tray. He put it down on a nearby table and turned to leave, until Jeff asked him to stay put for a minute or two.
Jeff then pulled out and blasted several squirts of semen onto the serving tray, squeezing himself dry. I watched, transfixed by the sight of the little pools of spunk glistening in the sun on the tray. He then took the tray and he held it out to me, “Madam, it would be my honor if you would take this humble offering.” I laughed. “The honor is all mine, sir,” I said. Then, with Ramon looking on impassively, I slowly slurped up all that sperm, watching my reflection in the silver surface while I was doing it.
I went home that day feeling freshly fucked with a satisfying bellyful of fishies for a nutritious bonus. I went back three or four times after that. Then, one day, I got a letter from Jeff. Inside was a check for more than $7,000. “This is part of the dividend of the deals I made while you were sucking my cock,” the note read. “Please accept this, and please don’t feel like a whore. Think of yourself as a partner.”
I accepted it, as a belated birthday present.