First of all, I call myself a slut, not with shame, but with pride. Webster's defines slut as first, a slovenly girl, second as a promiscuous girl, then as a prostitute and a saucy girl, and finally a minx - which sounds to me like a small furry a****l. I don't know where they get off with slovenly, I mean, I have very high standards of personal cleanliness, and although I am not a neat freak or a slob about my personal surroundings, I am certainly reasonably ordered. I am definitely not a prostitute because then I would have to be much less choosy about who I slept with, and that leaves promiscuous. But, hey, I am promiscuous with a capital P! I am not really a nymphomaniac, because I do orgasm and feel very satisfied when I have had enough of them. But I do like a lot of them. So, I like to think of myself as a slut because Kathy the Promiscuous sounds just a little pompous. And to give you an idea of how promiscuous I am, I like both men and women. On the average, I'd say 80% preference for women, but hell, if I went more than six months without a good hard dick, I'd probably go nuts. What is really surprising is, I think there are a lot of women out there like me, and I don't think I am so much unusual as just a little bolder than most of the other women just like me. So, here's my story:
"I've been having sex since I was 14. First, with my b*****r, then a guy named Donny, who lived at the next farm. Before I go any further, no, this is not a big i****t story about what hayseeds do on the farm, those episodes were just part of the learning process. And even if it was a farm, some country folk considered us to be city people because we were just thirty minutes outside of Little Rock. Another note about the farm: we weren't poor farmers either. My parents were fairly wealthy. We raised horses mainly, but had a large vegetable field, tended by hired help, as were the horses most of the time. I don't know why most young girls go nuts about horses, unless it is as a really big, hay-eating masturbation instrument. I thought horses were pretty stupid, myself.
Back to my sex history. Suffice to say, I coaxed my b*****r into showing me his, and I showed him mine, and he was scared to screw me out of fear of pregnancy, so he just screwed me in the ass. Which I did actually learn to like as it went on for years. Of course I would beat off at the same time, and that is how I figure I developed such a positive association with having my ass played with. In fact this was my only sex life until Donny right before I turned eighteen, except for my spying on my parents. I did try to watch my parents as often as I could because I was so fascinated with sex. My mom is a natural redhead with big boobs, and my father is dark-haired with a dick that I found a little frightening because of its size, and they went at it regular as bunnies almost every night, and they were pretty uninhibited, too, so my education was pretty thorough even if it was based mostly on watching. And smell. My mom didn't have an unpleasant smell but it was powerful. I could peep into the door of their bedroom and her pussy smell would fill the air enough that it was strong to me, and I was at least eighteen feet away from their activities. I have no idea how a natural blond came out from a redhead mom and a dark-brown haired father - maybe it was a genetic compromise.
There's not much to say about Donny. He had pimples, busted my cherry, came in thirty seconds, and then went off to college. It hurt, and it was over before I could get excited, sexually or romantically. Donny was a disappointment.
Which brings me to when I just turned eighteen and was spending the summer in Arkansas with my cousin (same age but two months older), Susan who also lived on a farm. She was actually quite distantly related, and although we called each other cousin, neither of us was sure there was any real bl**d between us. Actually our parents were good friends, so us k**s sort of grew up friends, but my mom, a genealogy buff, does swear that we were related some labyrinthine way or another. I was planning to go off to college in the fall, so this was my last big vacation before official adulthood. My tits were nice and firm by then, and I was proud of my dark brown thatch of pubic hair as well. It didn't start growing until like 13 but it was still fuzz at 15. Guess my pussy was a late bloomer. But at 18, my pussy fur was thicker now, and very fine and soft, almost like rabbit fur, but it made me feel like a woman. I was pretty, with blonde hair, cut short, about halfway down my neck, and my brown eyes seemed alluring, at least they seemed so to me when I would study myself in the bathroom mirror, something I probably did too often. I thought my dimples were very fetching too, and people told me it made me look really cute. I know, I sound a little vain, and I guess I am. Worse, I liked to beat off while looking at myself naked, usually easing a finger into my bottom when I felt my orgasm beginning to wash through me. That's why I have mentioned my b*****r. My bottom has a history and to this present day is an important part of my sex life. My evening bath was an important time of day for me in those days. I'd usually take a bath and soak for a while in hot water, then take a quick warm shower. I'd get out and dry myself off in front of the mirror and inevitably get turned on by looking at my nude body. Usually, I would imagine my current dream guy (usually a movie star or rock idol) stroking me and kissing me, and of course, I'd start stroking myself, etc. But every now and then I'd just start touching myself and looking at myself and get so turned on that I didn't even need a fantasy to come. Come to think of it, I suspect I was very vain, even for a teenage girl, even for a pretty teenage girl! Mostly I was just ignorant, mainly because my parents had heavily discouraged my dating, although I had a very few.
But it wasn't until I saw Susan getting ready to shower, up at her farm near Fayetteville that day, that I ever had thoughts about sex with another female. I had come into the bathroom to wash my face, since it wasn't locked and caught her naked as a jaybird, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and shaving her legs before her shower. Her measurements were pretty close to mine, though she was a little taller, and her hips were a bit wider. Her breasts were a 36C cup, a little heftier than mine as I wore a 34C cup, and her nipples were large and pink, whereas mine were a very pale, golden tan color. I had a tendency to tan, and her skin was milky where the sun hadn't touched it and freckly where it had - she was a natural redhead like my mom. Okay, so our measurements weren't real close; except maybe our nipples were the same size. But I wasn't thinking about me when, after a glance at Susan's face to make sure she wasn't looking up at me, I let my eyes really linger at her crotch. Nestled in between her smooth, freckled thighs was a gorgeous bush of red-gold curls. When I say gorgeous bush, I am mainly referring to the color and the fact that her hair was much more sparse than mine. I could see her lower lips much more clearly than I had seen mine for years. Unselfconsciously, she touched up the shaving of her long, shapely legs while she chattered on about a plan for us to go horse-back riding. I watched, fascinated by her red-gold pubic curls and the shapely ripples of her calf muscles as she stretched her toes, inspecting her leg for stray nubs. As she moved her leg around I got a glimpse of her pink button peeping out through the red forest. I was actually squeezing my thighs together and getting wet down 'there' before I realized that I was getting hot over a chick, and my sorta cousin at that! I was so embarrassed that I instantly felt my skin flush, and I knew I had turned beet red. Sue clearly noticed, but only revealed a small smile without interrupting her prattle about riding. It bothered me a bit, but I'm not the kind of person who worries about stuff much, so I forgot the whole incident in an hour or so. It was a long hour or so, though. I just kept seeing her naked like it was burned on my brain.
When visiting Susan it had always been the custom for me to share her queen sized bed with her. That night, Susan seemed to drop off to sl**p right away, but I lay awake, remembering her body the way it looked in the bathroom, remembering the shapeliness of her legs, and her lovely cunt. I was lying on my back and she lay with her back to me, and I could feel the heat of her bottom through her panties, pressed against my left hip. I began to wonder what it would be like to touch her, and before I even thought about it, I rolled over as if I was asl**p and snuggled up to her spoon-style, letting my arm ease around her in a hug. My nipples hardened instantly as I pressed against her back, but I felt sure she wouldn't notice.
She did though. At the moment, she just wiggled her ass a little, as if to welcome my embrace. I lay that way a few more minutes and decided that I was making myself crazy. I lay back on my back and tried to sl**p. I guess I should mention at this point that I was wearing a man's tee-shirt and a pair of panties for pajamas - I thought it looked chic because that was the way Susan always slept.
I was too excited to sl**p so I decided to risk beating off for relief. Stealthily, I slipped my hand in my panties and slid a finger down to wobble my clit. I tried to keep the vibration so minimal that Susan wouldn't notice. Meanwhile, I used my worn-out fantasy of how it should have been with Donny. Susan turned over facing me, and I instantly froze, holding my breath. I felt her breath on my cheek when she whispered, "I like to do that, too. Are you thinking about a boyfriend?"
I was grateful for the darkness that covered my blush of shame as I answered yes, and then blurted out the story of my entire sex life. Having never told anyone, I guess it had been building up inside of me. As you know from what I wrote above, there wasn't much to tell. Then Sue told her stories, which, despite our both being the same age, were quite a bit more complete than mine. She had finally let her latest beau go all the way as long as he wore a rubber. They had done 'it' many times before they broke up about six months ago. Now she was so horny that she was anxious to try out her new boyfriend. While we exchanged our tales, we lay together on our backs. Neither of us said anything about it, but we were both rubbing our clits while we talked. My left leg was touching her right leg though, and that felt too nice for me to move away.
Finally, Susan said, "You know what would feel better than what we're doing?"
"What?" I asked cautiously, wondering at the slightly sly tone in her voice.
"We should do it to each other while we talk," She urged, "It would feel good, as good as it gets, and unlike with boys, we don't have to worry about getting pregnant!"
I giggled at that, but as reasonable as her suggestion seemed, it scared me, too. I felt a flush of guilt as I thought back to the bathroom scene. I wasn't queer. I knew that, so why was I so tempted? "We'd better not," I said; then to soothe the rejection, I added, "But I don't guess it would matter if we just felt of breasts." Okay, looking back, it's hard to follow the logic of that, but to an inexperienced eighteen year-old simpleton from the country it made perfect sense.
"Okay," agreed Susan, "Want me to go first?"
I whispered, "Sure," even though I wasn't sure that she meant first to feel, or first to get felt. But I understood quickly enough when I felt her hand slide inside my shirt and begin gently stroking my tits. Her touch was softer but surer than either Jim's (my b*****r) or Donny's, and I was nearly overwhelmed by a heave of passion in my hips when she tenderly plucked at my hardened nipples.
I giggled, mainly in an attempt to gain control of myself, and spoke, mainly to break the awkward silence of our heavy breathing, "Gee this is really nice, Susan, but it does seem weird, cause guys are always kissing me when they go for my tits." This was a feeble joke, not a hint, but Susan took it as a suggestion. When I felt her lips touch mine, I started to gasp, which simply parted my lips for Sue's slippery tongue. But I was so swept away by her delicious, sexy kiss that I found my fears and reserve slipping rapidly away. Now, I liked kissing boys, in fact, most of my sexual experience has been kissing (not counting my b*****r), so I liked it a lot. But I liked it a lot better with Susan. I don't know whether it was because she was a girl, because it was so taboo, or simply because she was a better kisser, which were all true, but whatever the reason, it just melted me. My hand, as if detached from the rest of me, slid into her shirt to caress her slightly larger breasts even as I felt one of her knees parting my legs. I could feel her pussy pressing hard against my thigh as she rubbed herself against my leg and brought her hand down from my breasts to my panties. I started to protest; and Sue knew it, so she just slid her tongue all the way in my mouth as her hand slipped inside my panties and all the way down until she had hooked her longest finger into my sloppy, wet vagina. A quick wriggle of her palm against my clit while her finger gouged and pumped in me, and I just had to spread my legs wide open to her. I know I didn't mean to just give myself to her, but I did. I felt so many things at once, her finger fucking my vagina, her palm against my clit, her hard nipples brushing my breasts, and her hot tongue in my mouth. My hips started fucking back at her hand, hard and fast, then harder and faster until I was gasping in her mouth while she kept up her greedy passionate kisses. I came so hard that I nearly passed-out in the wave of undulating bliss. While I caught my breath, I lay cradled in Susan's arms and enjoyed her tender little kisses on my face.
"Ooooh," I moaned softly, "That was something else!" She giggled and said she was glad I liked it. "But Sue, I was a little surprised, what made you want to do that to me? I'm not sure about this stuff."
"Oh don't be such a stuffed shirt, I had to convince you that this would be more fun than doing it by yourself. You need to do like us real country girls and take your fun where you can find it!" Ah, the old stigma of living thirty minutes outside of Little Rock. Most city people think country people are ignorant louts, and they would probably be surprised that country people thought the same of them. In fact, the general rule was, the closer to town, the lower the IQ. Of course, she couldn't see that I was smiling, the bedroom was too dark, so she continued to explain, "Don't feel obligated, but I sure wouldn't mind if your hands wander around a little." She kissed me lightly on the nose. I knew she was anxious for me to 'do' her, but she wasn't rushing me, and I liked that. Suddenly, the image of her elegant naked body as it looked sitting on the edge of the bathtub came back to haunt me again, and I found myself really wanting to touch her. I felt of her breasts first, without kissing her, and then, because I suddenly felt shy, I kissed her to work up the nerve to slide my hand down to her panties. She moaned softly into my kiss and spread her legs for me. I slipped a finger down her crack and slid into her wet hole. I worked my finger around making her clit wet, then rubbed the hooded little button until her sighs turned into muffled moans and grunts in my hair, her hips jerking against my hand. She fell asl**p for real, then. And as I dozed off, still horny, I really couldn't decide whether I liked the giving as well or better than the receiving. It made me feel guilty as hell, especially the sexy way I'd feel when I smelled of the hand that had touched her. But I fell asl**p pretty quickly anyway, still sniffing my right hand every minute or so.
The next two days were hard for me. I worried about my feelings toward Susan constantly. I had had more fun with her that one night than I had ever had with my b*****r or with Donny. I realized that my sex life up until now had mostly been pretty poor pickings, but it didn't account for the way I felt about Sue's body. I worried that I was a homosexual, but at the shopping mall the next day, I saw this dreamy guy in tight jeans. I looked at the bulge at his crotch and was struck by such a wave of horniness that if he'd as much as crooked his finger, he could have had me right in front of all the startled shoppers. What was wrong with me, I wondered, was I flipping out? At least I was reassured that I wasn't going all the way queer. To make the tension even greater, no more intimate encounters occurred with Susan during those two days. She made no reference at all to our previous trysting.
Then Saturday night arrived and Sue and I had double dates to the movies. Her new boyfriend, Jay, and some friend of his named Rodney, who turned out to be the driver, picked us up around dark in Rodney's parents' car. Rodney was nice, kind of plain looking, with blond hair and a few freckles. The movie was a dull western, and it was the guys that agreed we should just go park somewhere. We left the theater and went to a lake lookout where there were a few other cars parked. It wasn't long before I heard the sounds of necking in the back seat. By the time I was hearing zippers in the back seat, Rodney was kissing me and unbuttoning my blouse. While Rodney kissed my tits, I peeked in the back to see Susan laid back on my side of the car. Her skirt was hiked up to her waist and her long freckled legs were spread wide, her panties dangling from her right ankle. Hovering over her, Jay pulled his jeans down and his big erection was out and trembling over Susan's cunt. She flipped me a quick smile and a wink before she whispered to Jay, "Now, now, big boy, you know what comes first!" He was fumbling with a rubber package as he whispered back - panted really, "Yeah, yeah, I got it right here."
"No you don't, you have to go down on me first," she said, "or you can just put it back in your pants!" He looked at her a moment, shrugged, and then did the most amazing thing! He knelt between her legs and kissed her down there! I was so amazed that I hardly noticed that Rodney was pulling my panties down over my ankles. I had never heard of such a thing as kissing pussy, although I had heard of sucking dick. I guess Rodney just thought I was looking away from him because I was shy. He had stripped his pants down, put on a rubber and was getting in position when I stopped him. I had him look in the back then told him that he had to do that to me if he wanted to screw me. To my surprise, he readily agreed and bent down. The moment he entered me with his mouth was like a light in the darkness, a sound in the silence. It was heaven! The Primal Chord that issued forth the universe! I looked back again and watched Susan's abdomen muscles trembling as her thighs clenched around Jay's head. What Rodney was doing to me was the most wonderful thing that I'd ever felt and thus I came. I barely remember his briefly screwing me afterwards, although later I remembered it felt really good, but it didn't last long enough to get me too excited again.
What I couldn't forget was that as Susan orgasmed, hips straining against Jay's face, her stretched belly delicately trembling in its tautness, and Rodney was still licking my clit, I was staring at her red-gold cunt, and when the thought came to me that I would like to do what Jay was doing, and do it to Susan, that's when I had my second orgasm with someone else doing the work. That night I lay far on my side of the big double bed and shivered with feelings of guilt mixed with longing.
The next morning I woke up early, about seven, and Sue and I didn't usually get up until about eight-thirty, and since we'd been up so late, I knew Sue wouldn't budge until nine. The morning sun was bright through the window and its light was warmly laid across the bed like a blanket. Susan had long since kicked the covers off herself, and me. As I awoke, I found myself gazing at the lovely curves of Susan's freckled calves. A delicious creamy feeling of pleasure filled my hips as I thought of how good Sue had looked with her smooth, athletic legs spread-wide in the back seat with Jay's face nuzzling in her curly red bush. I began to get excited enough to finger myself when I paused with the thought, Susan was such a profoundly sound sl**per that she wouldn't be disturbed if I took a little closer peek at her crotch. Susan lay on her side to my left, facing away from me, so I eased myself down the bed, laying on my side, inching closer until I lay with my face about six inches from Susan's rounded bottom. I could see her pussy lips through the sheer panties and in a wild moment of daring I put my hand on myself and whipped my clit while I pressed my face close enough to give her crack a feathery light kiss as I inhaled her musky fragrance, an incredibly wonderful, delicious smell. I came so hard that I knew that I was lucky not to have awakened Susan.