Virginity stories: Would They Call it Daddy Issues. Author: DaSpark. Natasha is young, beautiful and has a life filled with loss and seeks to fill the void. The story is including Fiction, First Time, Prostitution, Teen, Virginity theme.
Virginity stories: Would They Call it Daddy Issues – Chapter 1A
Author: DaSpark
***First part, didn’t have time to finish. When I do I will post pictures of the characters****
“Ungh! Orrnnnnn Jeeeezus!” Natasha heard him growl into her neck, his face buried in her flesh.
Her back was hurting. She was smashed up against the tile counter. Well her lower back and the tip of her ass was. She felt a little precarious to be honest, but she just kept her mouth shut and let him go, she doubted he would be willing to stop. Not even for her.
If there was one thing she had learned about men, when they were close to coming, not much else made a fucking difference. If the dick was hard and her pussy was housing it, it wouldn’t be long before it reached its end, that much she had imperiled evidence of.
Natasha felt another hard thrust, wincing from the pain of her pelvis being hit so hard by his groin. He had one hand under her left thigh, just barely supporting her weight. She had to hook her other leg around his waist just to support herself. Not that she was heavy, she was damn well fit, she worked hard at that. His other hand was pressed up against the cupboard.
Natasha couldn’t take her eyes off the clock up on the wall. It was actually her grandfather’s, a family heirloom cuckoo clock. She was watching the second hand, it had become an obsession of hers. It was amazing how fast they were. When she would masturbate to achieve pleasure it always took a good half hour or longer to really do it right. But not guys, not the first time. The first time was never long.
Now a regular of hers, her only real regular these days, had told her it was because she was so attractive. That it was a compliment; that she was too cute, too sexy, too tight and too good at coitus for any man to hold out. She was glad that she had never ended up wasting time with the boys at school. They wouldn’t last any longer from what she had heard, and all you got for your trouble was a pregnancy scare.
At least she valued herself properly. Well, except this time, this time wasn’t her idea, but considering the situation she was forcing herself to try to be accepting. Shit, she had created this monster. Should couldn’t rightly be angry about it. She would just have to douche a lot tonight, make sure she got it all.
5 more seconds on the clock. That made 35, which was enough for second place on her first timer’s list.
Natasha felt his hand grab her hair in a vice grip behind her head, clenching her hair. His other hand was still on her thigh, squeezing hard, like it had been from the start. She felt her breasts bounce in her shirt on the next few pumps from him, and had to smile to herself, so many times they never even got her shirt off.
Amazing she felt since her breasts were damn nice if she said so herself. The smacking sound of their genitals and groins smashing together was getting loud, and she felt a tap below her pussy where his lengthy sack slapped her. He had pulled his head off of her neck and his forehead was pressing against hers, and pushing hard. Boring into her head the way his cock was boring into her pussy.
She knew he was close, they always got maniacal when they were close. When they passed that moment of fucking, or she supposed for some girls, loving; where they weren’t men anymore, not human, but pleasure drunk, and nothing would stop them from achieving their goal at that point. They changed, they just changed . . . . even the ones she liked.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, Oh baby! Oh, oh sweetie! Oh, oh rrr, rrrrr, RRRRR, RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHNNNNNNNN!”
She felt his stop, she felt him stiffen. She felt him buck. She closed her eyes, and felt warmth inside her, a significant amount of it. It was so crazy, sometimes she was warm, sometimes she was cool, and this time, she felt nothing, almost stale. But she must have felt fine to him.
47 seconds. He came within 4 seconds of the record. She had kind of been rooting for him. Like it would symbolize this fuck as special, because it really was, even though she felt to numb inside to process it.
She stroked the back of his scalp through his hair, massaging him as he did a hard buck again. How much, she wondered. How much is he letting loose inside me. Sometimes if she was really turned on and super sensitive she could actually feel the vibration of their cocks when they came. After all, there was never a condom in the way. They never chose a condom.
He whimpered a few times, his cheek was pressed up against hers. “Ohmmmmy gaaaaaaaaaawd. Moosssshhhhhit. Shhhhhhhhit baby.”
He was panting and she could feel his heart racing, beating hard enough to feel on her chest. Her breasts jiggled with the power of his heartbeat. She held him, his aging, calloused body in contrast to her soft, supple, sexy figure.
He went quiet, just breathing heavy, still gripping her leg, but his other hand was on the countertop now, helping support his balance. She never got over how docile and gentle them became after they dropped a measure of their cum inside her. She wondered if this moment was the one that fooled most women into thinking the men cared about them. She felt she knew better. They were all horny perverts, and she would never make the mistake of trusting one with her love.
She knew this phase lasts about 5 minutes or so. And while she wasn’t turned on, nor had experienced any pleasure, she still had an endorphin release. A side effect of mentally knowing she had just copulated. She wouldn’t be pregnant, she was on the pill. Thank god she lived in a liberal state where she could get the pill. Pregnancy would have fucked everything up.
Her mind slowly drifted, as she waited for her lover to recover from the orgasm her womb had given him. It actually wasn’t that long ago in the grand scheme of things, but she was young, and time was much slower for her. So it felt like ages. 16 months. 16 months since that first time. The very first time. That time she had an orgasm, which she later learned was a gift, that the first time for most women was more painful than pleasurable. But she had come hard, even though she was crying. She hadn’t cried from pain or fear, it had been such an incredible release, and the passion. . . . god, he was the only one where it felt like passion instead of lust. That is what had really gotten her off she surmised later. She just hadn’t realized it at the time.
She had been at Christina’s house, they had gone there after the JV basketball game. Natasha had always been a good girl, good grades, never got in trouble, never thought about bad things. But like any budding woman she had started to notice guys looking at her different. She really noticed it at an awards show for her dad about two years ago. She worked for some reporting agency and it was some kind of prestigious award, I never cared to learn what one. Mom was alive then, and she had told me I deserved to wear a woman’s dress for the first time. She was so excited for me. It wasn’t trashy, just form fitting, something I hadn’t worn before.
I wasn’t much different then as I am now, just about 15% breast size, give or take. Her face is a tad longer now, more mature, but still pretty close. She had been a little shorter though, just under 5 foot, and she was 5 foot 2 now. She had been blessed with nice skin and she tanned well. With her ice blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, and tan athletic frame, she was on the road to sexpot status already. Her mom got her a white number, it was in the little black dress still, cocktail wear.
She felt so adult when she had put it on, with its tight form, and those creases that were created every where because of any body movement. It displayed how flat her tummy was, and it raised up high, to just above mid thigh. Her mom had gotten her leopard heels to go with it and a padded bra to add just a bit of heft to her chest. She loved the view of herself in the mirror. She was a good girl, but even a good girl likes to know she is pretty. It was the first time she had ever felt . . . sexy.
She had a white jacket to wear over it, kind of like a sports coat but feminine. She had noticed a few of the older men there looking at her. It was the first time she could remember that men did that. There was this one guy, kind of heavy, thick mustache, not attractive. Natasha had caught him looking at her a few times. The last two times he didn’t even hide he was staring.
She just ignored him. But when she took off her jacket, and her chest was viewable, it seemed like every guy was watching her. When she walked to the buffet table and back, she felt really odd. She liked the attention but was a little put off by the way the men looked at her. Not like she was a pretty lady, but more like she was a treat to be devoured. Later she found she was pretty accurate in her assessment.
So now that Natasha understood the power attractiveness seemed to hold over men, she enjoyed trying to get the good looking older guys to look at her. She would smile and blink over her shoulder. Flip her hair, stretch to press her breasts against her top, and bending over counters and tables to stick out her butt. That seemed to get men’s attention more than any.
While she was aware of what sex was, she was still unbreached and while she technically knew what happened, she didn’t really get what was so encapsulating about it. But she also never had masturbated, she thought it was icky. She wasn’t really religious but she felt like it was something god would frown upon and, what if he was watching her do it?
About 5 weeks after the awards dinner Natasha’s mother got sick, really sick. The doctors couldn’t figure out why she was so sick. Two more weeks later she was diagnosed a very rare bone marrow cancer, and she died soon there after. The death hit Natasha hard, and to fill the void she felt without her mother, she would flirt more and try to be more risqué.
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