FOUR LOVERS

My name is April Okimoto. I'm seventeen years old, and I'm a senior at Notre Dame High School in Sherman Oaks, California where I have a 3.8 GPA. My favorite subjects are history and English, and I'm a varsity cheerleader. I have had four lovers.

I met my first when I was eleven, when I discovered that rubbing the head of the teddy bear I called Buster against my secret place made me feel very nice. So nice that that we started doing it every night before I feel asleep. One night he made me feel so good I thought I might die, but Buster and I just couldn't stop, and I didn't die after all. That's the night I figured out what people meant by the word orgasm.

And after that, we wanted to do it all the time: Before school, after school, before bed, and for as long as my parents would let me "sleep in" on the weekends. Usually, I would start by lifting my nightshirt or skirt and spreading my thighs while I laid in bed. Then Buster would begin kissing me, his black plastic nose gently poking around my privates through the gusset of my panties and making me get wet down there. His soft ears would tickle my bare skin while his furry paws stroked the inside of my sensitive, skinny thighs. This was very nice and sexy, but while Buster liked to take his time, I was never very patient and would rush him along, beginning to hump my crotch against him, pressing his fuzzy forehead against my secret place. Sparks would shoot up my belly and down into my legs, and before long I would orgasm, my tummy fluttering. It felt so good that it made me whine, so I always had to muffle in my pillow the little whimpers I just couldn't keep inside. We liked it other ways, too. Sometimes, I would lay on my tummy and Buster would stand between my spread legs while I used one hand to press him against my pussy. If he stood just right, his cute nose would tickle my butthole while I humped myself against his round belly. And one time, when my parents were out back gardening, Buster did me in the kitchen as I leaned against the counter, teasing my secret place under my school skirt until I came, biting my lip to stifle the noises bubbling up from inside me. Little Buster was a wonderful, tireless lover - he gave me so much pleasure and I never did anything for him! In fact, the poor little guy got bald spots from all the time he spent rubbing up and down against my panty covered pussy.

Then, after almost two years, our relationship ended tragically. My mom cleaned out my room one day and threw poor, balding Buster away. I was heartbroken. I thought I might never come again. I tried with Hello Kitty, but her head was just too big. My floppy bunny Fred didn't work out either, and the beanbag frog was clearly not a possibility.

Finally, after more than three weeks without an orgasm, I was desperate. My best friend Michelle Curry was sleeping over, and late at night, in the dark of my room, the two of us laying quietly side-by-side in my bed, having exhausted all our regular girl-talk, I broke down and asked her what she used to make herself come. She didn't say anything for a moment, and then she said she used her hand. Well, that seemed obvious, thinking about it. She asked me what I did, and I said my teddy bear used to make me come, but my mom had thrown him away. Like I said, I was desperate to have an orgasm, so I asked her if it was okay if I tried it her way. Right now. She said she guessed so.

So I reached down between my skinny legs with my hand and started rubbing my fist against the crotch of my panties. It felt okay, but it wasn't Buster, and I could tell I wasn't going to be able to finish the job that way. I told her I didn't think it was working. I asked her if she could show me how.

I remember her shocked, whispered reply. "What, like, do it to you?!"

God no! I didn't want to be a lesbian, I just wanted to see how she did it, I explained. She was quiet for a long time, and I was about to tell her to forget it, when she said okay. I was so excited! I hoped that this would be the end of my problems. I turned on the lamp on my nightstand. I asked her to start, and she closed her eyes and pulled up her T-shirt, exposing her underwear. I remember that her panties were pink and had a little pink bow on the front. She spread her thighs and her knees were up off the bed just a little. She slid her right hand down inside her panties, and I could see her fingers rubbing against her pussy under the fabric. All right, I thought, fingers, not fist. Michelle still had her eyes closed, and it looked like she was enjoying herself. But I still couldn't see what she was doing down there. I asked her if she could take off her underwear so I could see better. She lifted her bottom and pushed her panties down past her hips with both hands, then kicked them off. Michelle had a little more hair on her pussy than I did, which wasn't saying much because I didn't have any yet, except for a couple of wispy ones on the front. I sat up and scooted down the bed, closer to the action so I could see the details.

Michelle was using three fingers to stroke up and down her thin pussy lips, pressing her middle finger into her slit. At the bottom, sometimes her middle finger would disappear a little, and I knew it was dipping inside her vagina. At the top, she would rub around her secret place (I know it's called the clitoris, now) in tight little circles a few times and then stroke back down. I could see wetness on her pussy lips, and I knew that it was the same stuff that used to soak my panties when Buster did me.

By this point, Michelle was breathing funny, and I knew exactly what she was feeling when she her body tensed up and her tummy started heaving. I warned her to be quiet, but she couldn't hold it in and let out a cry that sounded, to me, unbelievably loud. I lay back, pulled up the covers, and shut off the lamp before she was even done coming. For a few tense minutes we both listened nervously for my parents, but nothing happened. Not a sound. Maybe Michelle hadn't been as loud as I thought.

When I was sure no one was coming, I wanted to try it to. I told her I was going to do it, and she said she wanted me to turn on the light so she could make sure I did it properly. I did, and then I pushed down the covers and took off my panties. I pulled my pillow over my face to stifle the noises I was going to make. I did exactly what she did. My pussy was already wet inside when I pushed my finger into my vagina, and the wetness kind of spilled out when I dragged my finger up my slit. Rubbing my clitoris at the top felt especially nice, even more when it got slippery from all the juice that was inside me. Pretty soon I figured out just how to make it feel super good, and I was whining into my pillow like I hadn't since I lost Buster. When I came, I was shaking all over. It was like powerful waves were passing through me, rocking my body up and down. As good as he was, Buster, my old lover, had never been as good as that!

When I finally stopped coming, I took the pillow off my face and Michelle was sitting up next to me, her eyes almost closed and once again playing with herself, her hand over her naked crotch. I asked her if she was going to do it again, and she said she was, so she lay back down next to me. I was still slowly stroking my slippery pussy while she got started, and pretty soon we were both doing it. I had the pillow back over my face so I couldn't see anything, but I could hear her breathing and I knew when she was about to come. She should have known better, but I guess she couldn't help herself and she let out another little cry as she climaxed. That set me off, too, and I came myself, my legs shaking and tummy spasming. It felt so good I couldn't stop myself and I quickly came a third time, whining loudly.

I was exhausted and my little pussy felt like a hot puddle of goo. I forced myself to roll on to my side so I could click off the light. After a couple of minutes, I felt Michelle pull the covers up over us. The she turned on her side, too, her sweaty, bare butt lightly touching mine. I was going to scoot over a bit more to give her some room, but I fell asleep instead.

After that we did it together every time we spent the night at each other's house. I also got lots of practice on my own every morning before I showered, every night before bed, and most days after school, when I went to my room to do "homework." I didn't miss Buster so much anymore - I had my new thing, and I had Michelle.

Over the next year we started to get a little more interactive, if you know what I mean. We would often start out face to face, stroking each others arms and backs, getting ourselves turned on. Pretty soon we'd be kissing, soft at first and then with our tongues - in fact, that was how we taught each other to french! Still kissing, we'd each start playing with our own pussies, our legs tangled and rubbing lightly together. It was so nice because she was pretty and soft and she was my best friend. Still, we never actually did each other, even though I some times thought I wanted to. Because, although I loved her, we weren't lesbians.

Then, just after my fifteenth birthday, Michelle got a boyfriend. At first it didn't affect our sleepover play time, but one night after we did it she said she didn't think we should anymore. She said she thought we were too old for sleepovers, and she didn't think it was fair to Zachary, her boyfriend, for us to play together. I told her that was okay, if that's what she wanted. I didn't cry right away, but I was heartbroken again, and I felt hollow inside for days.

That year was the same year that my brother John got into the cars. He was nineteen and still living at home, out of highschool and kind of aimless. Then he got a job working at the garage of a man my dad knew from church, and he figured out he liked fixing up little import cars into street racers. Later, after he saved up some money, he fixed up a car for himself. He was so proud when he brought it home for the first time - he wanted to take me for a ride so I could see how fast it was.

I was scared, but I went anyway. I guess I was trying to encourage him or something. He took us out to the 101 and then north on the 405, going pretty fast but not much faster than the other cars. When we got out of Sherman Oaks, though, he floored it and the car jumped ahead, throwing me back into the seat. He started weaving in and out of traffic, passing car after car as we went faster and faster. I was terrified! My fingers dug into the armrest and I could barely breathe. Then something happened - I felt a familiar fluttering in my tummy and the vibrations in the car from the road and the engine seemed to flow through me. It was like we were moving in slow motion and I could see everything just before it happened. I'm glad my brother was concentrating on driving, because I was breathing heavy like I did when I was ramping up for a nice climax. I would have been really embarrassed if he'd noticed. It seemed like forever (later he said we'd only gone ten miles!) but he finally slowed down and got off an exit before turning around and heading home. I asked him if he was going to go fast again, but he said he didn't want to chance getting caught by the cops, so we went at normal speed. It was on the drive back that I noticed that my pussy was soaked.

When we got home I told him his car was cool, and then ran back to my room, flopped on my bed and masturbated like ten times! I hadn't felt so sexy since Michelle had dumped me.

Every time I masturbated after that, even if I started out thinking about Michelle or Johnny Dep or Kevin Cho from my trigonometry class, I ended up thinking about how that car ride made me feel. I got my brother to take me out a few more times, and each time was the same, and just more fuel for my fantasies. But few months later he got into a car club with a bunch of sleazy guys, and my parents wouldn't allow me to hang out around them. I didn't want to anyway, because those guys had no respect for women. Of course, the result was that I didn't get to go out speeding anymore.

My parents were pretty strict with me, probably because of the way John disappointed them. They didn't let me date even after I turned sixteen, and I wasn't allowed to get my driver's license either. I guess it did me some good, because by the time I was a senior, I was an almost straight-A student, a varsity cheerleader, and I was going to go to UCLA in the Fall, which was where I had wanted to go to college since I was just a little girl.

Not that they were able to keep me innocent, even aside from my old sleepovers with Michelle. I had gone all the way with few boyfriends, even a gorgeous blue-eyed blond boy from my AP English class that my parents would have hated. Michelle used to help me sneak out by letting me stay at her house - her parents were a lot more liberal than mine. I'd been drunk, too, and tried pot once - Michelle and I often went to parties, and while I still sometimes missed what we used to have, we always had lots of fun together.

So my life was all right. But there was definitely something else I really wanted. It had been more than a year since my first car ride and I still fantasized about going fast, and I could recall the feel of it every time I masturbated, in my bed after school loudly climaxing because I was alone in the house, or late at night coming quietly in the dark. I don't know why the combination of speed and danger made me feel so sexy, but it did. Yes, there was something else I wanted to do, and though it took me while, I finally figured out how to do it.

Martin Wong was my brother John's best friend. Marty had followed him into the street racing scene, but Marty was a good guy, unlike the other losers in the club. Marty was second generation, and he worked in his parents' restaurant. It's totally a cliche, but Marty's folks had worked really hard and been pretty successful - they now owned a small chain of Chinese restaurants. The food was even pretty decent. Marty managed one of the restaurants and was putting himself through school to get a business degree, going part-time to Cal State Northridge. Like my brother he still lived at home, but unlike my brother, he was a Good Son.

He and John had been friends since before I was in kindergarten, and I think Marty sort of thought of me as his little sister, since he didn't have any of his own. Marty always treated me well, and protected me from John's other sleazy friends whenever they came around our home, too.

But Marty didn't seem to have much luck with girls. Marty was shy and not that good looking. He had a chubby face, and while he wasn't sloppy fat or anything, he was just sort of thick everywhere. But I liked him. He was sweet to me and had a good sense of humor - he could always make me laugh with just a few words or a silly face.

Also, because he had a real job, Marty had the coolest car of anyone in the club. That's what John said anyway. All I knew was it was an electric blue Mitsubishi Lancer.

So one day, I borrowed my brother's phone for a few minutes and got Marty's number. Then I called Marty. I asked him to take me out for a ride in his car. He said no, which I had planned for. I pleaded with him to do it, explaining that my folks never let me do anything and all I wanted to do was to go out for a while and cruise around. He still didn't want to because he didn't want to get in trouble with my parents or John, but I told him I had a plan so they would never know. So of course he gave in, and we made plans for the next Friday night, which I had already cleared with Michelle.

That afternoon, Michelle and I went through my clothes to find an outfit for my "date" with Marty. I had taken a copy of my brother's Import Tuner magazine, and at first we were trying to put together something that looked like what the model on the cover was wearing. After working on it, though, I figured a bikini top and short shorts would probably only scare Marty off, so I decided to just wear my school uniform from junior high, which by now was too small for me. The skirt would never meet length requirements, and the short sleeved blouse was so tight across my breasts and shoulders that I could only fasten the buttons below my boobs. For underwear - the most important part - I picked only a tiny white g-string that I had bought earlier to keep for a special occasion.

That night I went over to Michelle's and changed into my new outfit, and then she dropped me off near Marty's house under a street light. She waited in her car about half a block away, watching as I called Marty. I told him where I was, and asked him to come pick me up. I only waited about three minutes, but there was breeze, and the cool spring night air blowing under my skirt and across my bare bottom made me chilly. When I saw his car turn the corner, headlights shining, I waved, and it rumbled past me and then made a u-turn, sliding to a stop right next to me.

"Um, you look nice," he said, as he got out of his car. I smiled sexily and told him I wanted to wear something that went with his car, then I twirled so my skirt rose up, showing off even more of my legs. He suggested that he should probably just take me home, but I pleaded with him again, and, I mean, Marty is a really nice guy, but he is just a guy. Of course he didn't take me home.

He opened the door for me and I got in, trying not to flash my panties at him. I sat with my legs together, my feet crossed in the foot well, which was lit with a blue neon light. After he got in, he asked me where I wanted to go. I could tell he was trying not to look at all the skin I was showing off. Meanwhile, in the side mirror, I caught a glance of Michelle's car driving away.

I told him we should just drive around. He showed me how to strap into the racing harness, which was easier than it looked, though the straps were a little uncomfortable where they pressed against my boobs. We headed for Ventura Boulevard, which is one of the main drags in the Valley, but after a while of cruising there I asked him if he couldn't take me somewhere where he could drive a little faster. He got out on the 405 and went north, just like my brother had the first time. I was already getting excited, even though we were only going 75. I asked him how fast his car could go. He told me he wasn't sure, and that he wanted to take it out to Laguna Seca to find out. I told him I meant how fast he could go now. He looked around at traffic, which wasn't too heavy, and said he could probably go 125 or 130. I told him to try.

Marty liked driving and I think he wanted to show off, so he floored it just like my brother did. I felt pushed back into the seat and my heart started beating fast. It came on me quickly as we zoomed north in the left lane, passing the slower cars on the right. I felt butterflies in my tummy, and the engines vibrations rippled through me, titillating my whole body. Before long, I was breathing hard and my pussy was getting dewy. I couldn't really help myself, and I started rubbing my thighs together, putting pressure on my sensitive girl-parts. Marty was too busy driving to notice.

I saw signs for the Ronald Reagan, and Marty started to slow down. I asked him not to, and he turned to look at me. I turned a little in my seat to face him, making sure my skirt had ridden up far enough to show off the front of my little white panties. I was flushed and breathing hard when I told him that it was really exciting when he went fast, and that I wanted to do it some more. He glanced down at white triangle between my thighs and agreed, taking the exit for the 118 toward Simi Valley. While we were still on the interchange, he sped up again, whipping us around the turn, and when we got on the freeway itself, he punched it, launching us forward again.

I felt like I was riding right on edge of an orgasm, and I figured the time was right now, or I might never go through with my plan. I leaned back into the seat and lifted up my legs, spreading my knees apart and placing my black Mary Janes on the dash of his car. My short pleated skirt fell back, exposing my legs and my tiny g-string completely. Marty looked over. "What are you doing?!" he cried. Just then we came up fast on a pair of taillights. I screamed, and Marty looked forward and swerved to the right, narrowly missing the bakery van that had been in front of us.

"Just drive Marty, or you'll kill us both!," I yelled at him.

Despite the near accident he hadn't slowed down, and we still had at least 10 miles to go. We were going easily two miles a minute, but as hot as I was I had all the time I needed. I pushed the strings of my panties over my hips, peeling the damp piece of cloth away from my wet pussy. Then I started touching myself the way I had since Michelle had first shown me when I was thirteen, my middle finger dipping into my pussy and smearing the slippery juice all around my hard pink clit, my other fingers pressing against the soft flesh of my plump, smooth pussy lips. I started whining almost immediately and I had my first orgasm just moments later, my tummy buckling and my legs twitching as I came. It felt too good to stop though, and after the first waves passed I kept stroking my pussy and teasing my little bud, building rapidly to another great climax. I came twice more before Marty finally slowed down, just as we arrived in Simi Valley. I was panting and sweaty, lightheaded from the speed and the orgasms, but I pulled my panties back up over my gooey pussy and set my shaking legs back down where they belonged. I suppose I should have felt embarrassed, but I was glowing and happy and I didn't care one bit. It was just as good as I imagined it would be.

Marty, on the other hand, didn't say anything or even look at me. He just kept going, eventually heading south toward Thousand Oaks. I spaced out blissfully, staring out the window at the street lights going by. Eventually, I asked Marty if he knew a secluded place we could park. He didn't answer me, and then I started to feel a little foolish. The final part of my plan was to make him want me, so he would take me out whenever I wanted, but maybe it wasn't going to work after all. We drove on, heading back toward home on the 101. I figured he was taking me to my house, but he exited the freeway unexpectedly and drove down some surface streets. We finally stopped, the car idling, in a back lot behind a row of garages.

"This is where I work on my car," he said. "No one is ever here at night but me."

Cool. I unbuckled the safety harness and open the door. I stepped out of the car, but then leaned back in and told him to get out, too. He did, leaving the engine running, and I met him in front of the car, the headlights shining past us onto a cinderblock wall. I turned him and pushed him back against the hood of his car, so he was sitting. Then I spread his knees and squatted between them. With my knees up, the night air on my wet panties made my pussy feel cold. I ran my hands up his thighs, heading for his belt, when my left hand ran into a fat, hard bulge that I swear started halfway to his knee. Oh. My. God. Was that his penis?

I undid his belt and his pants, and I started to pull them down. He lifted his butt to help me, and I pulled his pants and his underwear a few inches down his thighs. Then I grabbed his fat cock and pulled it out, revealing the length of it, until it was standing erect in front of my face. It was huge and lovely - the longest I had ever seen, and thick around with a fat, shiny head. I squeezed him with my right hand, my thumb smearing over his frenulum the few drops of precome that had oozed out. His balls hung below, heavy with semen in their tight scrotum. I palmed them in my left hand.

"I know you want to come, Marty," I told him, "so don't hold back. Just warn me so I can get out of the way - I don't want to get any in my hair." I smiled up at him, and licked the tip of his cock. He tasted salty, but nice. He closed his eyes and groaned when I took the head into my mouth, locking my lips around the corona. I had to open pretty wide just to get it inside me. I flicked the underside of his glans with my tongue. I could feel the vibrations from the car engine transmitted through his rod into my mouth - it felt really sexy. I sucked him in as far as I comfortably could and then started to slide it back out, wriggling my tongue along the underside. That's when he told me he was going to come. So soon! I pulled off and leaned to the side, stroking him with my hand as he grunted and blasted shot after shot after shot of jizz into the dark. Finally his come slowed to mere pulses, drooling down the fat, veiny shaft and onto my hand. I had planned on just giving him handjob and a little suck, but after I saw the size of his cock, I knew I needed to feel it inside of me, too. So I took his still hard cock back into my mouth, sucking out the remaining cream, and then I started to lick him clean with my tongue, swallowing the slippery, salty semen. His erection softened a little, but then came back as I continued licking his broad tool over and over from base to tip.

When he was fully hard again, I stood up, my calves aching a little, and reached under my skirt to peel off my soaked panties. I told him to open up, and when he did I said "Hold these for me," and I stuffed my little g-string into his mouth. Then I told him to lean back on the hood of his car. I climbed up on top of him, straddling his body, my knees on the warm metal. I grabbed his cock and ran it down the groove of my juicy, dripping pussy. I rubbed the tip against my clitoris, sending sparks up my body, and when I felt ready, I positioned the fat head at the entrance to my vagina and I pushed down, forcing him to stretch my little pussy open. It felt much too big to go inside, but I was determined, and my vagina was so slick that once I popped the glans inside, I sank slowly, slowly down his hard shaft while he split me open, spearing into my narrow, wet sheath. I had never had anything so big inside me before. I felt completely full, even before I managed to sink the last inch, my bare pussy lips pressing into his soft pubic hair. The mushroom tip of his cock, finally still, was pressed against my cervix. Adjusting to his size, I rested on him, rocking my hips slightly and pressing my hooded clit down against his fleshy pubis. His rod stirred my insides slowly. I unfastened the buttons on my blouse and my tits popped out, free from the too-tight shirt. Exposed to the air, my little nipples crinkled into hard pebbles. I grabbed his hands from where they rested at his side and put his meaty palms over my tits. He squeezed them softly, my nubbins rubbing against his rough skin.

I started to rise and fall, slowly fucking myself on his pole, gradually increasing the length of the stroke. I know I was whining out loud again, but I couldn't help myself. With his cock filling me, my clit pressing into him when I sank all the way down, I was out of my mind. In fact, I was going to come again, much faster than I had expected. I really tried to slow it down, to draw it out a little, but I couldn't. I tensed up and started spasming on top of him, his cock all the way inside me and my poor little clit mashed against his groin. I climaxed, oceans of feeling flowing over me as I cried out. I think I passed out a little, because when I came back to my senses, I was slumped against his chest, his strong arms holding me tightly. His hard cock was still buried inside me.

Still holding me, he scooted down the car and stood up, lifting me with his arms and the steely rod sunk deep in my body. I wrapped my legs around him. He turned me around and gently laid me down on the hood of the car, leaning over me, the hard, warm metal against my back. He made a few slow thrusts into me but, with such a big tool, the angle was wrong and I pushed him off. I stood up in front of him and turned around, my legs straight and slightly spread and my back sloped, pressing my chest and face against the car hood. "This way," I told him, flipping my skirt up over my bottom, and he stepped forward and grabbed my hips. I reached between my legs for his cock and held it in place while he pushed into me, splitting my tight pussy open all over again, just like the first time. I came a little right away, and never really stopped coming after that. Little climaxes rocketed through me as he increased the pace of his fucking, until he was pounding me pretty brutally, his strong arms slamming my ass into his soft belly over and over, his hard cock thumping against my cervix on each stroke. It hurt, but it felt amazing at the same time, and when he growled through his clenched teeth, pressed himself deep inside me, and I felt the warmth of his ejaculate spreading out along my slick canal, I orgasmed too, almost as hard as before.

He stood there behind me, his cock wilting inside my body as our combined juices flowed out of me and down my trembling thighs. The car rumbled quietly underneath, my left cheek resting on the warm hood, saliva forming a small puddle around my chin before I eventually found the strength wipe myself off. Finally he stepped back, his cock slipping from my pussy with a little slurp and an extra spurt of runny spunk. Marty helped me back to my feet and held me up while I regained my balance. I was dizzy from coming. He didn't say anything at all, but his eyes were smiling at me.

I asked him if he had something I could use to clean off. He took off his T-shirt and handed it to me, and I used it to towel off my wet thighs and bottom and tried to soak up some of the come still dripping out of  me, while he went back to the car and popped the trunk. He dug around inside and came back with a windbreaker for me to wear and another T-shirt for himself. While I put on the jacket, he walked me to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for me, holding my hand while I climbed inside.

He went around and got in the car, too, and sitting behind the wheel he put his thumb and index finger into his mouth and slowly pulled out my tiny white panties. "These are yours, I think," he said, grinning like a little boy, holding them up for me to take. I told him he could keep them.

He drove me over to Michelle's house. The whole way back, I was quiet, feeling dreamy and happy, and remembering how wonderful it felt to be so full with him, even though my pussy was sticky and starting to ache. I knew I would be sore in the morning, but I was almost looking forward to it, knowing that I would be thinking of his beautiful cock all day - all the time, probably, until I got it inside me again. When we got to Michelle's house, Marty and I sat in his car for a minute, and he shyly asked if I thought I might want to go for a ride again some time soon.

"How about tomorrow?" I said, and kissed his cheek goodnight.