The Slut Therapist
© Copyright 2020. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are 18 years and over.
My name is Samantha Foster (just call me Sam) and I am a slut. Well, maybe not your definition of a slut, but a slut never the less. You see, I love sex. I mean it, I love it more than anything. I have had sex with men, women, lesbians, even gay men. I will not just jump into bed with just anyone, though. I have to at least like you, you have to be clean, nice, courteous, and decent looking. But if it feels right, you will probably end up in bed with me.
The above may match your definition of slut, or not. I do not really care. I am my own woman and have my own values, likes and dislikes, and attitudes. Maybe it would be good to explain how I got this way.
When I was about seven years old I came to realize that my parents were different than most. Other parents had problems to deal with, they sometimes divorced, they depended on other people for their own self image, they sometimes hated their kids, or lives, or job, or spouse, any number of things. My parents led the happiest lives I could imagine. It was like a fairy tale life. They were the happiest two people I have ever encountered, and totally in love with each other. When I was about ten I began to notice that my parents would sometimes disappear during the day. As I got older I figured out it was because they were having sex. This almost always happened on weekends and when I figured it out I felt that I was special because they thought each other was special.
I am an only child, which was no problem for me. I did not miss siblings or encourage my parents to provide me one (or more). I was happy just being with them. We did everything together (except sex of course) and had the best times. I had the best childhood of anyone I knew. And I did have lots of friends through my neighborhood and school. But my parents were really special and we made up a sort of a band of three musketeers. We went camping, boating, vacations (usually driving), and really special holidays.
As I approached puberty my parents took me aside and we had the "sex talk". Only it was not like any other parent's sex talk that I knew about. Most parents see it as a job that needed to be done but would skip it if they could. Not my parents. Our talk took all afternoon and including books, pictures, discussion, and an introduction to female products for my period. The talk coincided with the start of my first period so that, more than anything, helped me over the stigma of that event. By the time the afternoon was done I knew about how to use tampons and sanitary napkins, how the man and woman's body worked, including the sex organs, and how a bra is to be worn and how to choose one. Later, I would put those lessons to work as my breasts began to grow at an accelerated rate, which resulted in a 34C size I had to deal with.
That afternoon session left me wondering about sex and what it would feel like. But, my mother had impressed on me the values of waiting until I was eighteen. It was not that she did not trust me, she wanted me to wait so that I would be able to choose who I gave up my virginity with some degree of assurance that he would be the right person. We talked about it at length that afternoon and settled on me letting her know if I really had found the right person before eighteen. She assured me she would understand and at least give it serious consideration. The main thing she wanted was for me to be on the pill prior to that time so there was very little possibility I could get pregnant. It was not that she did not trust me, it was the boy. As I grew a little older I began to completely understand where she was coming from on that one.
My mom and dad also understood that it was entirely likely that I would do some heavy petting prior to being eighteen. They were both okay with that as long as I could restrain myself and my partner because there were limits as to how far it could be taken. Just about anything was okay as long as intercourse was not involved. I agreed and I never really had a problem with that. But, I did do a lot of petting.
My waiting period was as eventful as was possible in the sex department, with the big exception. It never seemed to be a problem for the boy as long as they were satisfied. In many cases I tried everything possible within the limitation with some of my boyfriends. This presented problems with a lot of other teenage girls and I quickly came to be known as a slut. At first this bothered me, but after talking with my parents about it I realized that these were friends not worth having. So if they could not handle how I led my life, they were not really my friends. This sometimes caused me to change my social group more than once during high school. I did not care, I would live my life they way I saw fit and to hell with people that could not handle it.
However, I did maintain a small group of friends over the whole of high school. They were always supportive and we were always a tight group.
The month before my eighteenth birthday my parents got me on the pill. I thought I would not be able to wait for that event, but when it came around I found that I had not yet met Mr. Right. Then, in March, I got asked to the senior prom by Mr. Right. His name was Jason Stewart and he was everything I was looking for. He was handsome, kind, patient, understanding, clean, and courteous. I was smitten with him and so I talked to my parents about him. They thought I should go on a couple of dates with him to confirm what I thought I knew. So I did, and he really was all those things and more. The thing that impressed me the most was that he was a virgin just like me but was waiting for the right girl for his first time. But he was also like me and not inexperienced in the heavy petting department.
We continued to date and plan the prom through March, April, and May right up to the big day. He claimed I was the right girl for him and wanted to know if he should get a hotel room for the big night. I told him to wait as I had another idea. I talked to my parents (again) and they thought it was a great idea, so on my next date I asked him if he would like to spend the big night in my bedroom. He was surprised, of course. I told him my parents would be out that night and through most of the next day and the house would be ours. He thought that would be great and would save him a lot of money. So those became our plans. We could be out as late as we wanted and have all the privacy we needed. I told him I was already on the pill so he would not even need to buy condoms.
From then until prom we tried to be as patient as possible, but it was hard, no pun intended. The afternoon of the prom my mother helped me get ready with everything. She made lots of suggestions which I mostly took. One of them was to shave my pussy hair. When I asked why, she just said that I would understand a little later on. I went ahead and did it and after I got dressed I began to understand. It was like I did not have panties on, even though I did. I felt exposed and it made me feel so sexy.
After hours of preparation, I was finally ready. The gown my mom and I picked out was so beautiful and made me look like a princess. It was a pale blue and was almost floor length. It was tight in all the right places but the skirt was wide enough for dancing. It was also low enough and cut to accentuate my breasts. It hung off one shoulder just for the corsage I was sure to get. My brunette hair was long and slightly curled so that it framed my face. My makeup was not too much, but just right and easy to remove later. I looked in the mirror with mom beside me and she told me I looked beautiful. She said Jason was really lucky and we both would have the memory of a lifetime tonight.
My parents and I talked until Jason got there to pick me up. My parents had assured me they would leave right after me to the hotel where they would spend the night and most of tomorrow. Jason got there with the corsage. He said hello to my parents, pinned me with the corsage, and we talked and took pictures before we left. He walked me to the car and opened the door for me.
I do not actually remember much about the prom. It was the usual affair with a band, seating for dinner, a dance floor, and all the usual ornaments. I was not made prom queen which was actually the way I wanted it. That kind of stuff was frivolous in my mind. Besides, Jason and I only had eyes for each other. The anticipation between us was palpable. But eventually the prom was over and we left to go back to my house.
Jason was actually able to drive to my house at a decent speed so as not to get us into a wreck. That would sure spoil our evening. He kept glancing towards me and smiling, I would return the smile and wait for him to do it again. We did not converse very much, there was no need.
Once we were at my house, I unlocked the door and turned to him. He gently pulled me into an embrace and kissed me. It was not our first kiss, but it was by far the most intimate.
"So where is your room, Sam?" he asked.
"Upstairs and to the left."
He picked me up in his arms and carried me to my room, where he gently placed me on the bed. Then he sat beside me and leaned over to kiss me again. We stayed clothed for a while as we made out a little, kissed a little, and whispered sweet things in each others ear. Soon Jason began to kiss me in other places and I started to unbutton his shirt. The anticipation was starting to get to me.
"We should remove our own clothes. I'm not sure I can remove what you are wearing without some damage." he said.
I smiled at that. I remembered how much trouble it was to get into it.
We both stood up and removed our clothing. We had seen each other mostly naked before, but that was usually in the car and in the dark. Here the lights were on and out bodies were on full display. When we got down to our undergarments we paused to look and appreciate each other.
"My God, Sam. You are beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."
