The Unrepentant Slut

The world is easier for hot girls. We can all pretend it's not, but it is. We can thank the women's movement for making it a little more equal between men and women, but between women and women – hot chicks have an edge. We human beings are shallow creatures and we love to look at beauty and we all respond to a request better if the request comes from a beautiful face.

I've known this my whole life. I watched it every day all of my life until fate did me the best favor ever. Over night …actually not overnight. Over the course of several months of reconstructive surgery and expert medical care, I was turned into a fucking hottie. It was a car crash – in case you hadn't guess. This miserable son of a bitch plowed into me and put me into the hospital. Turns out he was the fucked up son of some VERY important person and this VERY important person did not want to get sued, his son to go to jail or for the media to find out his son nearly killed me.

Acting on my behalf (I was 17 when it happened but turned 18 while I was still out of it), my parents settled out of court for an incredible sum of money (held in trust until I'm 25) and all my medical bills paid. Thanks to some world class surgeons, I am now better than the way God made me. I'd always had an okay body, but even at 17 I looked like puberty had passed me by. Well, while I unconscious my hormones finally figured out what they were supposed to do and now I have tits and ass to die for. Liposuction got rid of the extra fat that my mom had called baby-fat even though I was way past the baby stage. They tweaked here and tucked there and now I could be a nude model. My hair had been this awful flat brown color although it was thick and full. Now I dye my hair auburn. Not a glaring red, but a nice browny auburn that's close enough to my original brown that people will think it

could

be natural. Maybe.

Now I look in the mirror and I want to fuck myself silly. I'm not one of those needles and pins, skinny, pointy chicks and I don't have one of those bodies that's hard and bulky with muscles. Women are supposed have curves and I have curves in all the right places. Our bodies are made to be soft and sensual to the touch. Touching my skin is like

"floating on a cloud of titties"

someone once said to me. Once a man gives me a hug, he just wants to keep hugging this body and running his hands all over it.

Everything about my body is just about perfect. What people don't see, thank God, is the "bride of Frankenstein" stitches under my hair. Some of that surgery was brain surgery. Happily that was successful too. Funny thing about brain surgery, though. People aren't really supposed to go poking around inside the brain. It's really not intended to be manhandled. That's why even with the most successful brain surgery there is the possibility of some personality changes. Sometimes drastic changes; sometimes very minor ones. Don't believe me? Look it up – they've done tons of studies.

In my case, it was a very minor personality change. Just a slight lowering of inhibitions. Not just sexual ones either, although certainly those' too. My other inhibitions loosened up too. You see, pre-accident, I was a very nice girl. I was the good girl. I was always polite, friendly, helpful, kind and I was never, ever mean to people even if they deserved it. I forgave people who were mean to me. If I ever felt angry, I comforted myself with the belief/hope that what goes around comes around and they would get their payback someday.

Now? I don't wait for payback to come around all on it's own. Now, I bring the payback to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Carson

Mrs. Carson was the theatre teacher at my high school. My God, what a bitch! Everybody hated her. My God, what a shallow, favorite playing, type-casting bitch. She'd pick her favorites out of every freshman class and those were the students who got the leads every year. And then there was the year we did

Annie

. Now there's one bit in that show where a woman comes on, a soprano, and sings 2 or 3 lines and then the rest of the chorus comes on and they do the number. Well, I'm a great soprano. I was the soloist in choir and jazz choir. I should have gotten that part. Even Mrs. Carson said I should have gotten that part. When she explained it to me she said that the actress she cast was taller than me. I was too short. Too short to sing 3 lines and walk off stage. Yeah – right. What she meant was that I was too flat. My boobs not my singing. The girl who got the part had boobs so big I'm surprised she didn't hit the front row with her nipples. Too short – my ass.

So then came the Saturday night the week after my first week back at school. It was also closing night of this years musical,

Pippin

. There was always a cast party at the Carson's after closing night. Mr. Carson dealt with the drinking that wasn't supposed to happen, but always did by telling people that they could crash there if they were too 'tired' to drive home. Mr. Carson was incredibly cool. He was also rock-star gorgeous. And everyone knew he played around on Mrs. Carson who was a pinched faced, brittle woman. He was a really good actor and did a lot of theatre in Chicago and the surrounding area. But he never missed his wife's cast parties no matter how busy he was. He had cheated on her with 5 girls that I knew personally.

I remember when I first saw him. He dropped by rehearsal for the fall show. I hadn't gotten a part, but I was working backstage. My jaw dropped open when he walked in. I couldn't believe it. I just stared at him until my friend nudged me, "Close your mouth. That's Mrs. Carson's husband."

"Husband? He's got to be 15 years younger than her."

"About that. They've only been married about 4 years."

"What was he a former student?" I asked in a rare (then) display of spite.

That was freshman year. Now four years later, I know all about Mr. Carson and I know what he likes. That night I wore a black short skirt that hugged my ass. When I sat down you could see the tops of my thigh high stockings. I had on a black bra over which I threw on a loose red top. The neck was low enough that when I lean forward or just turn fast you could get a glimpse of my bra lace underneath. Using the allowance from my trust fund, I spent Saturday afternoon at the most expensive salon in town getting my hair and nails done. My make-up was flattering, but not over done. Three-inch come-fuck-me pumps finished the outfit. Time to go have fun.

I went to see the show alone. Everyone stared. All week long people had been doing double takes whenever they saw me. A few people recognized me and, of course, my girlfriends who have been coming to see me all the time I was in the hospital had gotten used to the new me. Soon it was all over school that Sadie was back and looking like a million bucks. By fifth period guys who never looked at me twice were stopping me in the hallway to say 'welcome back.' Assholes.

So I went to the show and again everyone was dumb struck. This was the first I'd gone out since the accident. I was kind of nervous if you want to know the truth. Getting this much attention was still really strange. I'd only lost my virginity a few weeks before that. (Now that's a story! I'll tell you that one later.) So I found my seat and waited for the show to start.

"Hey Sadie, it's good to see you."

I looked up expecting to see another jackass I hardly knew, but it was Brian. Brian and I had known each other forever. We'd met in fourth grade – maybe fifth grade. I can't remember. We hated each other instantly. Every year since then we'd duke it out for the top GPA of the class. We'd reached the level of friendly adversaries by senior year. I was still trying for Valedictorian and so was he, but got along pretty well despite that.

"Hi Brian. It's good to see you. Sit down."

"I was really sorry when I heard about your accident. I'm glad you're okay. You are okay, right?"

"Don't I look okay?"

"You look great." Brian blushed. "I didn't mean… uh… I mean, there's no brain damage or … I mean… uh… I know that bad of an accident can sometimes cause permanent problems that aren't visible. I'm not saying this very well. Do you understand what I mean?"

I laughed gently. "Yeah Brian. I know what you mean. Thanks a lot for asking. There is a little long-term damage. My back is going to cause me problems as I get older. I might end up in a wheelchair."

"Oh my God. That sucks!"

"That won't be for a long time and I'm just glad I'm still alive. So I'm going to enjoy life and mobility to the fullest in the meantime. That way I'll have wonderful memories to savor if I do end up in a wheelchair."

"Wow, that's a great way to look at it. You seem really together."

"Well, between us old friends, I have my days when I'm much less philosophical about things, but I try to keep those days to a minimum."

"You're a lot more together than I would be after something like that."

Brian and I chatted until the show started. Then he went to sit with the people he came with. After the show I went backstage to congratulate everyone. It wasn't very long before Mr. Carson found me.

"Sadie, my dear, I heard you were back." He said hugging me and copping a feel of my ass. "You have blossomed into a beautiful young lady."

"You'd be amazed at what a few months and some world class plastic surgeons can do for girl."

"It's not just plastic surgery. I always knew there was a beautiful woman inside that shy girl just waiting to come out."

Yeah, like you even noticed me.

I thought to myself. Out loud, I just said, "Thank you."

"You're coming to the cast party, aren't you?" He asked.

"I hadn't made up my mind yet."

"Oh you must come." He said giving me his bedroom smile.

At that moment Mrs. Carson walked up to us. "Yes, Sadie, you should come. After all you'd probably have been on the crew if you hadn't been in the hospital."

I translated her words in my head.

You'd have been on the crew because there is no way in hell I would have given you a part.

I smiled demurely and said, "My parents don't like me to drive late at night. You know, because of before."

"You can crash at the house." Mr. Carson said before his wife could get a word in. "Believe me you won't be the only one. There's always a bunch of kids sleeping on the sofas and in the guest rooms when we have one of these. Isn't there, dear."

Mrs. Carson didn't look too happy. "Yes there's always a few."

I smiled at her. "I will then. It sounds like fun."

A few hours later the cast party was in full swing. Mobs of people were milling around the house and spilling out onto the lawn. It was late April and the night was warm. Mrs. Carson was sitting at the dining room table with her three favorite students. They were pouring over her scrapbooks from her days in professional theatre. Reliving her glory days. Glory days – ha. One play on Broadway in a part so small she didn't even get a bio in the program. Yeah, she was a great actress – right up there with Sarah Bernhardt. I went to look for Mr. Carson. He was out in the yard talking to a group of guys. I slipped in between Mr. Carson and Patrick.

"Excuse me, Mr. Carson."

"Outside of school you can call me John."

I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet like I had to go to the bathroom really badly. I didn't but it made my boobs jiggle and all the guys circled around us couldn't take their eyes off them.

"John," I whispered. "Is there another bathroom somewhere. Both the ones inside are taken and I kinda need one now."

He smiled. "Sure. You can use the one in the guest house above the garage."

"Thanks a lot. You're a life saver."

The guest house was basically a one-bedroom apartment. It was obviously furnished in the cast-offs from the last time Mrs. Carson had the main house redecorated. I actually did need to use the bathroom, but not as badly as I had pretended. I took my time in the bathroom confident of what I would find when I came out. Mr. Carson was standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Sadie." I jumped a little when he said my name.

He continued. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to be sure you found it all right."

"Yeah I did. Thanks." I took a couple of steps toward him. "We should both be getting back outside."

"There's no rush. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since you got back. Come on and sit down."

I sat down on the edge of the bed pretending I didn't know why we were having our little chat in a dark bedroom.

"So how has it been - coming back?"

"Kind of weird. Everyone's amazed by what I look like now. Almost no one recognizes me."

"I did. I would know that sweet smile anywhere." He said and touched my cheek. I couldn't keep myself from blushing.

"Really?"

"Really. I always thought you had one of the sweetest smiles and the prettiest hair." He stroked my hair. I felt myself getting excited. This guy was good. No wonder he kept getting senior and junior girls to spread their legs.

"None of my classmates noticed my smile or my hair until I got these." My hands cupped my breasts.

"Those are very nice." He said gazing at them appreciatively. "But at my age, I've learned to appreciate soft, sweet lips more."

He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. "Your lips are very sweet." He kissed me again. Deeper this time. I realized I wasn't going to be the one in control of this seduction. His kiss was amazing. Right out of

Gone with the Wind

or some romance novel I'd read years ago. His lips were soft and firm. This kiss was light and delicate. Just teasing me. I leaned into him. I couldn't stop myself. My nipples were hard as rocks and my panties were soaked. I leaned into his kiss. He took that for an invitation and wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. His kisses became deep and passionate. His tongue pushed between my lips and touched mine. I spread my lips wide and welcomed him. Our tongues danced together until we had to break for air. I looked up at him and all the adoration and amazement I felt was splashed across my face. He smiled at me and whispered, "You have the most beautiful face."

And I believed every word he said. I did have a beautiful face. I was beautiful when he looked at me. Even if I looked as plain as I had a year ago, under his gaze I know I'd be beautiful.

"Take off your top." He whispered to me.

Quick as a flash my top was off and on the floor. His hand cupped my breast. "Do you know how luminous your pale skin looks in a black bra?"

I nodded.

His thumb brushed over the nipple and I gasped. I was so nervous yet excited. His touch felt so strange yet so tantalizing. He unhooked my bra and slid it off me. "Ah, young breasts. Without the bra, they hardly drop an inch." Now both his hands were holding them. My nipples pressed against his palms. He bent down to kiss each own. "Ah so sweet." He whispered. "But not as sweet as this." And he kissed my lips again. Okay, it sounds kinda cheesy when I write it here, but believe me it swept me away. While we were kissing he laid us back on the bed. I was on my back and he was over me. I could smell his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and whiskey. He broke off the kiss and looked down on me. His left hand was stroking my thigh while his right arm cradled my neck. "Sadie, you're a very exciting young woman."

"Thank you." I whispered.

"I want to make love to you very much."

I caught my breath.

"But I want to be sure you want it too."

"Yes!" I gasped. "Yes, I want it."

"I know you do." His fingers slid beneath my panties. He could feel how wet and ready I was. I worried for a moment that he'd think I was a slut for being so wet already. It seemed to please him though. He slid his finger along my wet slit.

"Don't you feel just like honey?" He smiled and kissed me again. I ran my own hands along his strong broad back. I wanted to caress him. I wanted to make him feel as wonderful as I felt, but he still had his pants still on so I couldn't think of anything to do.

He stopped kissing me and looked at me with a serious face. "Sadie, I need to ask you some things first."

"Okay."

"Are you a virgin?"

"No. My sister's boyfriend." I stopped not wanting to confess that I'd surrendered my virginity to my sister's boyfriend less than a month ago.

"Your sister's boyfriend mmm? I can't say I blame him."

I didn't know what to say, so I just stayed quiet.

"Are you on birth control?"

I nodded; thinking about the tiny length of wire the doctor had put in not so long ago. When I decided on my plans for going back to school, I had gone to Planned Parenthood and gotten an IUD.

"Are there any questions you would like to ask me?" He said as his fingers slipped into my soaking wet pussy.

"Uhmmm." My mind frantically searched for the advice my big sister had passed on to me years ago. I had hardly paid attention at the time because I figured who the hell would ever want to have sex with plain old me. Her words floated in my head

"Don't leave birth control up to them. Get on something before you even think about having sex."

Okay, I had done that. What else?

"Make sure they're disease free. Be sure of that. Remember the difference between herpes and true love. Herpes are forever."

I couldn't just ask this incredibly handsome, sexy older man who had his fingers in my pussy if he was disease free. Talk about a mood breaker. It was so hard to think. It felt so good.

"Ah…. Ah…um…well…I guess I need to know…Oh God…" I thrust my hips toward his fingers. "Oh please…more…. please."

He bent down and kissed my breasts. He kissed them all over and nibbled on each nipple. "I will give you more, much more. But what do you need to know."

"Oh…I need to know." God, I was so embarrassed. Or I would have been if I could think for two seconds in a row. Still this was serious business and I had to ask serious questions. "Do you have any conditions I should know about?"

"Good girl." He praised me wiggling his fingers against my gee spot. "No, I don't. But next time you should ask these questions before we get to this part." He said and bit my nibble hard.

My eyes flew open. "Ow."

"I'm a teacher's husband." He said. "I take my responsibilities seriously."

I laughed. "You've got your fingers up my pussy, you're married to my teacher and you take your responsibilities seriously?"

"Yes, I do. Young women who dress like you do and who go with older men into dark bedrooms should know what they're doing. I intend to make sure you know next time."

I couldn't really say much to that, but it did put what we were doing into a weird perspective.

"So you're my sex-ed teacher?"

"Yes, I am and I enjoy my job." He said bending down to kiss me. He laid one of his 'Rhett Butler' kisses on me and I forgot all about sex-ed class. He broke the kiss and pulled his fingers out of my pussy. I whimpered. He chuckled softly as he pulled my lace panties off. I felt his fingers searching for the zipper of my skirt and raised by hips off the bed to help him. He unzipped my skirt and pulled it off. It joined the rest of my clothes on the floor. I was now stretched naked across the bed of my teacher's guest house. Her husband was standing at the foot of the bed undressing for me. I was so hot; I could hardly stand it. My hands drifted to my breast and my clit. He watched me fondle myself as he undressed. He looked even better naked than he did clothed. He had the solid build of a mature man, but with none of the love handles or belly that men who work desk jobs get. John obviously worked to keep his body toned. He stepped toward the bed in all his glorious nakedness. The bed sank as he lay down next to me on his side. He leaned down to kiss me as his hand gently stroked my belly. His kiss was gentle at first but grew more demanding. I kissed him back passionately, desperately. My body was quivering I was so desperate to fuck. His hand lightly caressed over my hips and slipped between my thighs. My legs snapped open so fast, you'd of thought they were on springs. I might have looked like an eager young filly, awkward, but excited. That's the polite way to put it. To say it honestly, I probably looked like a horny, inexperienced schoolgirl. At the time, I didn't care. I was so horny I was nearly in tears. His fingers sliding inside me felt a rainstorm after a drought.