Emily opened her eyes and giggled. “Did he cum inside you… or…”
I immediately understood, though I made a mental note to find out why it’s called a creampie.
“In my Va… in my Pussy, and on my tits.” I corrected myself, and Emily groaned once more.
Suddenly there was a huge horn sounding, and I looked across. In the other lane, a van driver (and his passenger) were leaning out their window, clearly able to see Emily now as she continued to frig herself. Emily briefly opened her eyes and looked up, smiling as she did so. Then she held her fingers up to her mouth and licked them suggestively. There was another huge sounding of the horn and I took our cue to speed away.
“For Fuck’s sake Em, can’t you keep your fingers off your clit for even a few hours.” I yelled, genuinely annoyed at her actions. The Van’s horn had frightened me and almost caused me to swerve into it.
Emily moaned loudly in response. “Mmmmm maybe once I’ve come.” She giggled before saying “Go on… tell me more.”
But I had lost interest now, still shaken from the sounding horn and the very real and near accident that we had just avoided.
“Why don’t you just ask me your damn questions and I’ll answer them. I’m not doing this any more Em. I want to move on from Ben and you’re not helping by making me do this.”
As I said, my emotions stirred and I began to cry. To this day I don’t know why, maybe it was the shock of the near accident, maybe it was the emotional toil of recounting my indiscretions. I don’t know — but Emily noticed.
“Jayne? Jayne? Oh I’m sorry… please… please don’t cry.” She offered softly.
I sniffed loudly, and muttered that I was OK and that recounting it all was just making me very emotional. It was true, and at that very moment I remember wondering if I was always going to feel this way?
Emily smiled winsomely at me then sat up and pulled her skirt back down. “Look, if it’s going to upset you then we don’t have to talk about it. I was only teasing. I KNOW you want to move on from Ben. And I promise I won’t fuck him.” She declared flatly.
I sniffed again, and Emily handed me a tissue from the glove box.
“How many guys do think will be at this party?” she enquired changing the subject.
I was glad of the change and allowed myself to consider her question for a moment. In truth I hadn’t given it much thought, and I was about to respond when I suddenly realised the reason for her question.
“Em. You ARE going to behave tonight aren’t you? I mean you’re not going to go off on one of your silly adventures.” I asked, sounding more than a little concerned, I guess.
“Lighten up Jayne. It’s been a good week since I had a decent fuck. So I’m going to make up for it tonight.” She giggled.
I huffed in response. A week? Christ, other than Ben I was going back over a year.
“But just with the one guy…right?” I asked tentatively.
I knew Emily’s predilections and her habits. She had always been the adventurous one, always first in wanting to try things — partly I guess, because I tried to stop her doing the things I’d done. I told myself it was to protect her, but in all honestly I think now it was purely so I could have my own ‘adventures’ and experiences without Emily always telling me how she had felt when doing the same thing.
Emily giggled in reply “Maybe. Depends on how hot the guys are.”
I stiffened at the admission. This was typical of my sister. “Em… please… I…” but she shut me off.
“Oh come on. You know what guys are like. A few pumps and they squirt and they think their job is over. Plus most of them only come once. What’s a girl to do?” she giggled once more.
“One at a time then?” I offered in a conciliatory fashion, realising too late the absurdity of my suggestion but this only made Emily laugh even louder.
“Christ, Jayne. I bet you’ve got this vision of me on my back and a queue of 20 guys, cocks in hand waiting to fuck me one by one?” she roared.
I felt myself flush and my anxiety rose a bit more. “No. I simply meant… I… just take it easy that’s all.” I suggested.
Emily turned and looked at out the window, waving to a passing trucker — but thankfully kept her tits under cover this time. But I knew where her mind was.
“I’ve never done it in the back of a truck.” Announced Emily calmly. “Do you suppose there is enough room?”
I paused momentarily, considering whether I should indulge her or just change the subject. I decided on the former, figuring that if we were talking about that then it was keeping my mind away from the obvious elephant in the room.
“They sleep in the back of their cabs.” I offered. “So I expect there would be plenty of room.”
Emily’s eyes flashed wide and I could see her mind rolling over a few ideas she was having. I hated to even contemplate what those ideas would be, but for sure I felt it involved us pulling into a truck stop.
The car was silent for a while and I guessed Emily was just considering her thoughts and ideas. It gave me a bit of time to consider the upcoming evening and for my anxiety and concerns to manifest. I thought back to my own time at Uni and as I recalled, the Student’s Union Bar wasn’t that good and any parties I attended (which were not many) were usually dull and involved people getting drunk until someone did something really stupid at which point, Security would arrive and the party would break up.
“Do you suppose there will be many people at this party?” I asked, somewhat thinking out loud.
Emily looked at me. “You know as much as I do.” She responded, then adding. “The more the merrier though — right? More choice.” She laughed.
“Choice?” I wailed, nearly choking at the implications. “You’re still assuming that they will actually be interested in 2 middle aged women.” I responded.
That’s when Emily glared at me, that self-same glare she had as a kid when she realised that I had missed something absolutely fundamental.
“You are kidding right?” she said, sounding incredulous.
I shook my head, not wanting to voice or make apparent my obvious lack of self worth. “Neither of us are exactly drop dead gorgeous.” I exclaimed.
In response, Emily gave a very loud guffaw. “You ARE kidding.” She cried out once more before taking a breath.
“Jayne. Think about it. Most of those guys will have had limited sexual experiences at best. Some of them may not have had ANY.” She said emphasising the word.
Suddenly the penny dropped, and I called out. “They’re Vir…” I tried to say.
Emily cut me off. “Yes, some of them. And so do you think they are going to turn down a real FUCK?” she laughed.
My mind exploded with the new possibilities. I honestly hadn’t considered this until now. And yes, dear reader — my cunt did start juicing up. Of course it did, once I realised that I might get a chance to take someone’s cherry. It had long been a desire of mine, and the idea of it was heady and enticing. Being someone’s first ‘fuck’ and knowing that they are going to remember that moment and that person for the rest of their life — hell yeah, that was a massive turn on.
Not only that, but having a blank canvas in terms of teaching him how to ‘make love’ to a woman rather than the ‘awkward quickie’ that can sometimes ensue. And also, making sure that the experience is actually ‘enjoyable’ for him. Damn right my cunt was gushing. My mind rolled with the thoughts and anticipation. Emily, of course — noticed.
“OHhhh. Does that… does that turn you on, dear sister? The thought of taking someone’s virginity.” She laughed.
I didn’t answer, just smiled broadly. Another mileage marker whizzed by and I noted that we had about 30 minutes of driving left. I found myself considering the party now, in a slightly different light. It was — how did Emily describe it — a ‘touch up party’, except now — I had the realisation that for a small few of those guys, and girls I guess — it may be the first time they’d get to actually touch and feel another person’s body. The thought made me quiver once more.
“So how does this party actually work?” I questioned flatly. “I mean, do you just ‘go up’ or do you have to strip or what?” I asked.
That was me, suddenly realising that I might have to be naked. My old self doubt and insecurity flared up, telling me that under no circumstances was I going to undress — not even in front of all those virgins.
Emily sensed my insecurity. “Relax sis. No one is going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with. There’s no stripping, quite the opposite. It’s usually fondling ‘over the top’ of clothes.” She went on.
I cringed, wondering how Emily knew so much about it and not daring or wanting to ask. But a part of me was strangely disappointed. Yes. OK Judge me if you will, but once I had realised the experience levels of the people at the party — I was actually getting quite turned on at the thought of inept virgin fingers fumbling inside my bra, getting tangled up in my knickers and maybe even finding the ‘wrong’ hole.
“Is that all they do?” I asked, trying desperately not to sound disappointed and failing miserably.
Emily laughed. “Well look at you now. All turned on at the mention of virgins. It’s not an orgy Jayne, if that’s what you’re wondering. Guys aren’t suddenly going to get their cocks out and jerk off all over you.” She giggled, obviously remembering something from her own past.
I really wasn’t sure how to respond, and I was now feeling a little open and self conscious about my desire to pop someone’s cherry. I decided to change the subject and get Emily talking about her favourite subject – her own sexual experiences.
“OK. OK.” I countered “So, what’s your biggest turn on.” I questioned — knowing this would be a long winded answer.
Emily laughed loudly. “Oh god how long do we have.” She giggled.
“Right — forget that. What is the ‘dirtiest’ thing you’ve done.” I redirected.
Emily laughed once more. “Hmmm…”
I could see her mind rolling through her memories, a smirk often passing over her face at certain instances — I guess when she recalled a few nice memories. I actually thought I knew most of Emily’s sexual activities. Let’s face it — and most of you guys reading this will have worked out, that Emily was not shy about relating such details.
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