Author Archive for Carlee

I blame my parents for the way I am. They belonged to a Christian evangelical sect that held to a very narrow definition of morality. As I was growing up my father was particularly strict with me about any thing he thought might be ‘sinful’…, and to him, that was just about everything a young girl might do. I could have been a popular girl in high school if it hadn’t been for my father. I was pretty enough, blond, blue eyed, with long shapely legs, and a set of perfect breasts. I always wore a bra because my father insisted, but I really didn’t need one despite my 36 C cup size.

I graduated from high school at sixteen, and my father shipped me off to an expensive women’s college buried in a backwater of the bible belt south. The school was run by our church so daddy thought my virginity would be safe there. He was wrong. Less than fifteen miles away was a large State University just full of horny boys.

Eddie was every teenage girl’s dream. An All-American, his name was in the newspaper all the time. A senior almost six years older than I was, he was as handsome as a movie star, and very popular…

Eddie was all the things my father had warned me about. He had no moral convictions, and he was completely indifferent to any distinction between right and wrong. He was conceited, selfish, and often insulting to the people around him, and his social manners were crude to nonexistent.

And did I mention that Eddie had a ten inch cock? No? How could I have forgotten to tell you about that. Despite his football ability and big man on campus reputation, Eddie Farmer’s real asset was his big cock. He was famous for it. At the time, I really didn’t understand why. The length of a boy’s penis was simply not something I gave any thought to one way or the other. Why would I? I had never even seen one in the flesh, and I certainly didn’t intend to let this Eddie Farmer fuck me with his, not on that first date or ever, football star or not.For five dates over two weeks I refused to let Eddie Farmer fuck me, although I sucked him off at least once every time we went out. On our third date had I let him put his hands between my legs and inside my panties. He fingered my virgin pussy to a string of orgasms. God, how I did enjoy having him do that to me while I sucked on his dick.

He was at ‘third base’, and he knew it was only a matter of time before I gave in. My friends refused to believe that after two weeks I was still a virgin. Apparently no girl had ever gone beyond the third date with Eddie without having his cock buried in her cunt, even if he had to rape her. I think he was more patient with me partly because I was a challenge to him, and partly because my blow jobs were so enthusiastic and satisfying.

It was on our sixth date that Eddie had decided that he had waited long enough . Well, I was ready too, or I thought I was. I hadn’t even worn any underwear.  No teenage girl was ever more willing, or in a bigger hurry, to give up her virginity than I was that night.

It was a mistake to let Eddie see how horny I was. He seized upon my passion as a weakness to be tormented.  For a week now I hadn’t been able to sleep I was so caught up in my romantic fantasies about having my adored lover between my legs, and his cock buried in my cunt.

Finally, I began to sob hysterically as I begged my lover to come fuck me. Eddie didn’t care about my distress. He made me admit that I was a slut and a whore, and that I was his property, his slave to do with as he pleased. Before he would even kiss me he insisted that I prove what an oversexed tramp I was by frigging myself to an orgasm with my own finger while he watched. Only after I had been thoroughly shamed did Eddie crawl between my knees. Once there, he raised himself a few inches, and just as Peter had done to Becky, Eddie took my hand, and forced my fingers around his cock.”Put it in.”

I was overcome with the warmth of being stretched and filled. I locked my legs around Eddie’s the way he told me, and churned my hips in sync with the prick he was pumping in and out of me. With each stroke I could feel his hard flesh rub across my clit. Within minutes, maybe seconds, all my hurt was gone and I wanted more. Indeed, I was quite vocal about it…, begging shamelessly for more…, more…, more.

Perhaps it was the relationship I had with my father, but all my life I have been titillated with the thought of being a slave girl. I have often masturbated to the fantasy that I am a sexy harem concubine owned by a cruel Arab sheik. His guards lead me naked to his tent by a rope around my neck. There I am made to service the penis of my desert master. He clamps my head between his strong hairy legs and forcibly feeds his great prick into my mouth. I suck him frantically. When at last he begins to ejaculate, he pulls from between my lips and jacks himself frantically. His cum splashes across my face and hair drowning me with his load. White goo drips from my chin onto my neck and tits. Eddie Farmer treated me just that way, and like my imaginary slave girl, I always assumed that cum in my face was the reward I had a right to expect.

Will you be the one who rewards me tonight? I promise..Ive been a very Naughty little girl…