I was a skinny tomboy. Active. Athletic. Anything I liked doing, I over did it. More was better. I remember my Dad pushing me on a swing. I kept wanting more. When he had enough I'd cry and he'd do some more. When he finally had enough, I learned to use my body to get myself swinging. I'd swing all day. As I grew some, I played every sport. Soccer, basketball, volleyball, softball, track. In the higher grades I had to start limiting the sports I was in, they overlapped too much, but I managed to get into as much as possible. Looking back now I realize that I never had even a thought of sex, sexual activity. I was too busy doing everything possible to excess.
Some girls matured as early as twelve. I mean breasts and pubic hair. Not me, I was a late bloomer. I started changing at around fifteen and it went on for several years. My ass grew, stuck out more. I developed hips. And breasts. Wow, I began to wonder when they would stop growing. They screwed up my running. Threw me off balance or something. And they bounced and flopped. I had to get sports bras to clamp them down. I even had to start sleeping different, those big boobs got in the way.
But I also began realizing that sex existed. That boys existed and they were different. And they began noticing me. I think the boobs did it. There were girls with bigger ones but they carried them on bigger bodies. I was, and still am, basically skinny. Small waist. No poochy stomach. My breasts sit all up front on a slim body. They're C-cups, not double D or anything but they look almost too big for my body. And I think they're still growing, I'm probably going to have to move to D cups.
Anyway, I got curious about sex. On my eighteenth birthday, a guy I had dated a little was also curious so we helped each other learn. He was a nice enough guy. I knew I wasn't madly in love but he was the one that was there at the time. Well, I learned that I loved sex. Anything at all about sex. I loved his cock. I loved the look of it, the feel of it, I loved to suck it, make him cum. I swallowed and actually liked it. It felt very sexy some how. And he loved my body. My breasts. He'd kiss them and feel them and suck on them. And my pussy. He really loved to taste my pussy, to lick me, to suck on my clit. And I loved everything he did. And fuck. We fucked a million times. Well, a lot. I loved the feel of him inside me, moving in me. For weeks we got together every moment we could and had more sex.
I guess I have a good body. Lots of guys have told me that. Lots of guys make moves on me. And since I want to have more and more sex, I let them succeed when they do it right. Actually, I'm always ready, so they succeed even when they don't act as well as they should. The result is, I've been with a lot of guys. Probably too many. But I enjoy sex and I'm still overdoing whatever I like, I guess. I've had every kind of cock there is, big ones, small ones, fat ones, long skinny ones, even one that was so big it was like a freak. I like 'em all.
I've read and heard that bigger is better. Maybe it is sometimes. But there's one guy I've been with several times and probably will be some more who has a smaller than average cock. I've never measured him so I can't say in inches but he's smaller. Well, he isn't but his cock is. He's really nice to me though. He loves my body. He'll eat me to orgasm after orgasm. He loves my pussy. His cock fits my mouth easily. If I'm having my period, his cock even fits in my ass nicely. I'll agree that a larger cock feels better inside me when we fuck, fills me up more, but with everything that goes with it, this guy's smaller one works just fine, I enjoy my time with him.
Now the freakish big one was a little trouble. For one thing, the guy knew he had something special so I was supposed to go gaga over him instead of his making love to me. And there was no way I could get it in my mouth. I could lick it and suck a little on the head but my mouth doesn't open that wide. Believe me, I tried. According to him, some girls were scared by it and wouldn't fuck him. Well, babies make it out that same canal, so I know it stretches plenty. And as big as he was, he wasn't bigger than a baby. So I fucked him. He got almost that whole humongous thing in me. Actually he bottomed out with a couple inches to go. I wanted to try it. But it's not something I'd do regularly. It was an experiment that worked but it actually hurt a little and I think I was stretched out for a couple days after.
So size isn't everything. Attitude helps a lot. I'll take a guy who truly loves eating my pussy any time. Well, truthfully, I'll take almost anyone anytime but it's best when he likes oral.
Anyway, I'm now twenty-two. I have a job. I share an apartment with another girl. We get a much nicer place than either of us could afford on our own. We have separate bedrooms so can bring guys home easily. And we do. She's almost as big a slut as I am. We also both have a favorite band. Heavy metal. The lead guy, Jerry Stein, is to me like Elvis Presley was to an earlier generation, or Mick Jagger was (maybe still is for some). I think Jerry is great. Great at music and about the sexiest guy alive. We knew he was coming to the Santa Monica auditorium and got tickets. The show was great. Jerry's even greater than I ever thought. After the show, we both ran around back to try and see them leave and get on their bus, maybe get an autograph. Well, there were a hundred or more other girls all there, and when he came out the screams were deafening. There was no way I was going to fight a bunch of teeny boppers so I stood back. I actually leaned against the band bus and smiled, watching the crowd.
I had dressed carefully. My jeans were skin tight, low on my hips. My top was low enough to show off my breasts, and high enough to show off my flat stomach. I looked good. As the band almost fought there way through the crowd, I watched, wondering how these guys handled this day after day. Jerry wasn't last but he wasn't first. I think the others helped run interference for him. Still girls were grabbing at him, yelling. I just smiled and watched. He looked up and saw me. I know he saw me, our eyes sort of locked. As he got almost to the bus he yelled at me.
"Want to fuck me?"
Nothing polite or loving. Just, want to fuck me? Well, I did. I've wanted to for a couple years. So I just grinned, told my friend I'd see her later, and started moving toward the bus door. As he got to the door he stopped and looked my way and reached towards me. I reached out to him and he grabbed my hand and helped pull me past a couple girls, right up to him. He put his arm around me and helped me up on the first step into the bus and then followed me. The front had several rows that were just like most buses, an aisle down the middle and a couple seats on each side. But the back half or more of the bus had curtains. I could see the curtains were screening off beds or bunks. They must sleep on the bus as they travel.
"All the way to the back," Jerry says behind me, his hand on my back. Well, in the back of the bus he has a bedroom. What looks like a double bed takes up about two-thirds of the space but he actually has a bureau and what must be a sound system and a chair, too. I guess he can sit back there and listen to music as well as sleep. We get in there and he pulls the curtain closed. Not a door, just a curtain.
"Well, sexy lady, we might as well get naked, it should save some time." This guy's a real romantic. First, wanna fuck, and now, let's get naked. But, truth is, I do want to fuck. So, as he strips, so do I. It's tight in there, so I get my top off first, then my bra. I step out of my shoes and sit on the bed, to pull my jeans down. He's pulling off his things, bends over to step out of his pants. I get my jeans off, then lift my butt a little to pull my panties down. I'm watching him and he's watching me. Naked, I stand up.