A Whole New World

By Candy

Part 7 of my life in So. California

©2008

 

The holiday season and beyond into the new year of 2008 turned out to be a great time.  I got lots of nice Christmas presents from my mom and dad.  They gave me a whole bunch of store gift cards so I could buy clothes.  My mom is pretty ‘hip’ (her favorite word, hee-hee) for her age but I’d still rather buy my own clothes.  Jimmy was still ecstatic driving the Xterra I bought him as his early Christmas present.  He gave me a beautiful necklace and earring set I knew he spent way too much on.   After he gave them to me, I wore the jewelry when we made love at his apartment.  He liked it a lot, seeing the necklace gleam, bounce and dangle as we did it.  It made me feel good wearing it too.

 

A few days after Christmas, I was on the beach, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt instead of my bikini in the cool and overcast weather.  A bunch of us were watching some of the guys in wetsuits, including Jimmy, trying valiantly to catch one of the less-than-huge waves.  I would have been disappointed but those guys were in heaven out there on surfboards, regardless of the size of the surf.  Last year at this time I was making a snowman in my Lexington, Massachusetts backyard, and bugging my dad to take me skiing.  I missed the snow but not too much.

 

Cassie was there.  It was the first time I had seen her since the hot tub ‘party’ at Peter’s house.  She was still ostensibly Brian’s girlfriend, but after witnessing her sexual hunger that day I figured ‘girlfriend’ still didn’t mean exclusivity.  I didn’t pay much attention to her at first as I spoke with other friends.

 

“Hey, kid, you getting enough?”  She said; surprising me that she was suddenly standing beside me on the beach.

 

“Enough of what?”  I answered, kind of stupidly since I knew what she meant.

 

She swung her tight-jean-clad hips back and forth in a sexual pantomime, and laughed.  “You know what.  Jesus, I NEVER get enough!”  She looked out at the guys on the water and said, “If you’d let me I’d take that Jimmy of yours back to my house and fuck him the rest of the day, I’m that horny.  Hell, who am I kidding, I’m horny all the time.”

 

I wouldn’t take the bait on Jimmy, so as a diversion I asked her where she lived.  She recited a Torrance address not far from Jimmy’s apartment, telling me she lived with her mom.  Then out of the blue she asked me if I would go with her to her house to “hang out, maybe watch a movie.  This is kinda boring.”  I didn’t have plans for later with Jimmy or anyone else, so I crazily agreed, though I couldn’t fathom why.

 

She was driving a beat-up Corolla.  When she started it up, the stereo blasted my eardrums with some metal I didn’t recognize at first.  She hollered “Godsmack” above the music.  I liked lots of stuff but wasn’t really into hard core metal, especially at that volume; though I impressed her by knowing Godsmack was from the Boston area, same as me.  She didn’t turn the music down, driving while bobbing her head and swaying her body to the beat.  I wondered about this strange “date.”  By then I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this didn’t have something to do with sex.  I remembered how she looked at me at the party, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t had sex with girls before either, so I knew the score.  Of course, maybe I was reading too much into the invitation.

 

She lived in an apartment complex in a part of Torrance I’d never visited.  Her mom was on the way out when we got there.  Upon introductions, I thought her mom seemed nice enough though she appeared to be one of those women who were forever tired.  I’ve seen that in some of my friends’ moms.  Maybe it was a Southern California thing—busy because you’re expected to be—a ‘television’ reality.  Cassie offered me a beer and I accepted.  One beer wouldn’t get me in trouble, I thought, especially with her drinking too in her own house.  She led me right to her desktop computer.

 

“I figured,” she said, “you’re a lot smarter than me.  Shit, I’m this close to dropping out.”  She indicated a miniscule space between her thumb and forefinger.  “I mean, like, what am I gonna do?  All I have is this body and I can’t see myself as a hooker, so what’s left?”

 

I didn’t think an answer was expected; the reason for this conversation—and getting me here—would come soon enough.

 

“Brian told me you made some porn movies or something, and made a lot of money doing it.  I didn’t believe him—holy shit, look at you!  Your age!  But then I see your boyfriend driving around in a new SUV he can’t afford, and I see you wearing some expensive bling and I figured it’s gotta be true.  How do I get into the act?”

 

So, there it was.  I was humbled after thinking she merely invited me over for sex.  I told her most of the details.  I didn’t have anyone I could contact directly, but I promised her that when someone contacted me, I’d pass along her information.  I told her I could easily see her working in the industry.  She liked that I said that.

 

“I don’t really get turned on by porn myself,” she said.  “Like, why just watch it if you can do it.” 

 

I didn’t say anything, though that was my feeling about masturbation—why touch yourself when you can get someone else to do it.  I did like to watch though.  I can get crazy-horny watching others do it, I’m finding out. 

 

Cassie continued, “Besides, I think reading erotica is much more of a turn-on than watching it—your imagination, you know.  Shit, my imagination is like a full-blown porn movie anyway.”  She laughed.

 

I told her I wasn’t familiar with written erotica, so she sat me down at the computer and showed me websites like Literotica and ASSTR.org.  While in the ASSTR site, I read sections of her favorite authors’ works she had bookmarked.  One was Stevesaint.  This man, who Cassie said had died last year, wrote some very hot stories she told me.  As I read one of them—“Frank’s Daughter”—I got real horny, so I began to agree with Cassie.  What would it be like if I wrote about what’s been happening to me? 

 

The idea was born.

 

Cassie exclaimed, watching me as I read, “Holy shit, you’re so fuckin’ horny I can SMELL you!  I bet the fuckin’ chair is soaked!”

 

My attention was momentarily drawn away from the computer screen.  What did she say about smell?

 

“God, your face is red and you’re like basically panting!  I can’t believe it—I’m getting turned-on just from looking at YOU getting turned-on, and I can really smell you, your panties must be so fuckin’ wet!”  She was breathing hard herself as she talked, her hand resting at the nape of my neck.

 

I absently put my hand at my crotch, and damn if I didn’t feel like I had pissed my pants.  I was that wet, just as she predicted.  Could someone really smell arousal?

 

She made a moaning noise deep in her throat and then practically shouted, “I gotta go take care of this,” and ran over to a bedside stand and pulled out a silver and black-plastic thing I figured for a vibrator.  As she slid her pants off she muttered, “I wish the hell you were Bi.”

 

On her bed, jeans and panties now off, I saw she had shaved fully since that day at Hermosa Beach.  Her eyes closed, she started in on her pussy with the toy and promptly forgot I was even there.  I sat and watched her for a few seconds before my hand moved into my jeans and began massaging my soaking wet clit.  I remembered my earlier thoughts on masturbation, and her last words registered with me.  Maybe I was bisexual after all; Christ, she was so beautiful!  I rose from the computer chair, walked over to the bed and started taking off my clothes.  By the time I was naked, she appeared to be getting close to orgasm.  I slid onto the bed and lay beside her.  My hand went under her t-shirt and caressed one of her heaving breasts as she moaned louder and shuddered.  I snuggled against her as she convulsed.  While she was still climaxing, her mouth found mine and suddenly she was kissing me.  Memories of Glory overwhelmed me.  I shuddered too.

 

When I finally opened my eyes, hers were afire, and gazing into mine.  “Whew, I needed that.  See what I mean about I’m always horny?”

 

I smiled but didn’t answer.  She must have finally realized I was naked, for her eyes grew wider still.

 

“You ARE amazing, girl.  I’m sorry about what I said earlier about you and being in movies.”

 

“Sorry about what?”

 

She kind of moved a little away from me to look at my body.  “You know, about how you couldn’t possibly be in porn.  I know what my body does to men, and I couldn’t figure how a skinny girl could have that effect.” She got closer again.  “I see how petite and hot you are now and how, like, in touch with your sexuality you are.  Christ, every man in the world would have a wet dream imagining they were fucking you.”

 

I laughed a little and told her about my squealing orgasms.  She laughed along with me, and agreed they had an attraction too.  As we both talked and laughed, our hands were lazily touching each other.  She confessed that she had been “intrigued” (her word) with me that day we first met, especially when Brian ratted me out on making the movies.

 

I said, “I’m not mad at you for what you said at all.  I mean, I wonder myself how all of it happened, and if I’ll do it again.”

 

“You’re thinking about it, I see it all over your face.”  She teased me, “C’mon admit it, I know you just loved having those big porn guys all over you.”

 

“Yeah, I admit it.”  We both laughed again.

 

“I like you a lot, Candy.  I don’t know how we can be friends, but I want to try.”

 

I didn’t know why, but even though I figured we were so different from each other, which I knew was what she meant by ‘not knowing how,’ I wanted to be her friend.  I told her how pretty I thought she was, thinking all the while how much of a younger version of Glory she was.  Lying next to each other on her bed, we talked some more about how the porn video scene worked (of course only from my limited experience).  I told her about Ed Ibanez and his arrangements for me, though I didn’t go into how much he paid me, only that it was decent money.

 

“Especially if you like sex,” I said, and then giggled.

 

She began making fun of guys when they have sex, mimicking their grunts and groans and the faces they make when they cum.  I laughed and said she had it down pat.  Cassie suddenly straddled me and said in a lower false voice, “Hey baby, I’m gonna fuck you good, open those legs for daddy ‘cause here comes the big guy.”  We broke out in laughter at her impersonation.  But…

 

Her pubic bone was rubbing against mine, and our clits were very close.  We were staring at each other as the laughter ebbed.  She reached up and pulled off her shirt, then she leaned down and our lips met again.  Our tongues and our breasts were joined and in sync as she began rocking so our pussies rubbed together too.  As her pace quickened she started making the same kind of noises she mimicked earlier.  I was purring along with her.  We grew louder very quickly.

 

She cried, “Oh God, oh God, oh GOD…”

 

I cried, “Yes, oh yes, oh YES…”

 

She rolled her head back and sort of howled at the ceiling.  I squealed very much like I had when it was Alan on top of me instead of Cassie.  It was quite the orgasm for both of us; the teenage sex-addicts satisfying ourselves at least for a short time.  We were wet from sweat and smeared pussy juices but we stayed there on her bed, side-by-side, not saying anything for a while.  In my after-sex happiness, a memory intruded—Glory again.  I loved lying next to her after we did it.  I may never see her again, and that realization took something away from my euphoria.

 

She spoke first.  “Wow, that was something else!”  She exhaled a whistling breath.

 

It sure was, but where were we going with this?  As I admitted that the sex was indeed super, I wondered if we began a friendship like she wanted, would it be defined by sex?  In spite of what just took place, as well as my earlier relationship with Glory, I didn’t think of myself as lesbian or even bisexual.  Damn, I was still so inexperienced in sex; I mean, a year ago I was a naïve thirteen-year-old virgin so I didn’t know where I truly lay (I nearly laughed aloud at my mental-pun).  In my own way, I asked her what she was looking for.  Cassie sadly said that most girls her age were afraid of her, like she would steal their boyfriends or something, and they didn’t want to hang out with a “slut” (her word).  In some way she figured I was different.  She told me she saw a difference in me that day at Pete’s.  I don’t know what that difference really meant, but I liked her and she evidently liked me.  Our unusual friendship was born.

 

As she drove me home, I worked out a plan to introduce Cassie to my mom.  Mom would need some extra ‘selling’ to accept a high school girl 3-to-4 years older than me—and who drove her own car—to be my friend and openly hang out with.

 

I didn’t need to worry.  Cassie turned on the charm and my mother was hooked.  Cassie wove a tale of how we met and how she thought I was mature for my age and how she envied me because I did so much better in school than she did.  Cassie even beat my mom to the punch, promising she wouldn’t expose me to anything that might constitute trouble.  I was in awe, watching a master bullshitter at work, and I loved it.  Her charisma matched her sex drive.  How could a girl this clever not achieve whatever she went after, including in school?  Before she left my house, Cassie and I made plans to hang out the following weekend.  I was like so excited to have a friend like her.  The girls from school who I counted as friends were okay, but they weren’t in Cassie’s league.

 

That evening, I booted up my laptop and surfed for more sex stories to read.  I eventually found the page with Stevesaint’s stories, and read one called “Annie Loses It.”  It was the sexiest story ever, about a teenage girl who sleeps with a hunky, married neighbor.  I thought, how could a sex story be so hot and so romantic at the same time?  I was so horny from reading it that I masturbated and came almost immediately after touching myself.  I actually had to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming.  My clit was swollen and sticking out like a small cock.  I never felt that before.  After I relaxed from my orgasm I read another story and got horny again.  I fingered myself one more time until my clit and pussy lips were sore.  It was a ‘good’ sore—and a great cum—and I knew I’d sleep like a baby that night.

 

I woke up the following morning determined to start writing about my experiences since moving to California.  I really loved writing and always got A’s in English classes, though what was I going to do, submit sex stories?  That would be a blast.  My classmate Clara, a recent transplant to So. Cal. from Texas, who aspired to be a published author someday, would die if she knew what I’ve been doing and what I was going to write about.  The first part of my ‘new California life’ (as I thought of it) I simply called “Candy” and looked into putting it on the ASSTR website Cassie showed me.  My dad had a book on web publishing and html code and after I read through the book it all seemed fairly easy to me.  I asked for an ASSTR account, and voila—I was an author!  I was writing up a storm and soon parts 2 & 3 were posted too.  After the first stories were on the site, I started getting all kinds of e-mails, some were gross but most were simply from people who couldn’t believe my age and that it was all true.  I had lots of fun answering most of them.  I ended up IM’ing with a whole bunch of new ‘friends’ both male and female.  Even when ASSTR made me strip all the neat photos from my stories it remained a fun time.

 

I used fake names for most of the porn people when I wrote, though Jimmy and Cassie were real.  Jimmy didn’t like it but figured he was “still safe.”  Cassie thought it was a riot, and wondered if she would be famous.

 

Another unforeseen consequence of my newfound audience was what Cassie called “The Sugardaddies.”  These were guys who wanted to meet me for sex and “spoil me.”  I chalked up most of them as perverts, though the danger, the forbidden excitement, the thrill of the unknown sort of got me going.  I fantasized about some of them—at least the ones who seemed nice, at least on the surface—wondering what they would be like, and how it would be to make love to a stranger.  I have heard grown-ups talk about “one night stands” and I figured meeting some of these guys would be like that. 

 

My fantasies led to some really wild sex with Jimmy.  The Sunday after Valentine’s Day when I was supposed to be “over a friend’s house” (well, I certainly was, though not who my mother thought!) I was at Jimmy’s and in bed with him.  We hadn’t made love yet.  He was teasing me about the school dance I attended with a classmate, asking about the boy who took me and if any of the other boys hit on me. 

 

I teased him back, asking if he was jealous.  “Why did you even ask?”

 

“You’re extra horny today, I can feel it.  I bet you’re soaking wet already.  I just like wondered if your date touched you, that’s all.”

 

I didn’t answer him directly; I figured I’d show him instead.  I still had my panties on, but they were soon off and I jumped on top of Jimmy.  He was kind of surprised because usually I like it doggy style, but today I needed it bad so I straddled him and slid onto his hard cock, making a funny squishing noise since I was super-wet just like he imagined I’d be.  I fucked him hard.  Up and down I went, my hair swinging every which way as I did.  Jimmy didn’t have to move.  He grinned up at me as I bounced faster.  I came so quick it surprised even me, my screams echoing off the walls of his apartment.  I was sure his neighbors heard me that time.

 

Jimmy groaned loudly, “Oh God, Candy—I’m…” He didn’t have to say it.  I felt his pulsating cock empty into me.

 

I shuddered once more as another orgasmic contraction tightened my belly and I moaned.  I kept my thoughts to myself as I enjoyed the aftermath of our lovemaking, Jimmy’s cum dripping from my pussy.  I hadn’t been thinking of Jimmy as I did it but instead was imagining being with one of my faceless Yahoo Messenger admirers.  The incredible orgasm fueled by fantasy goaded me toward making it reality.

 

The final convincing was accomplished the next time I saw Cassie.  When I told her of my daydreams, she began concocting schemes on how I could meet one of those guys and be “safe.”  Together we developed ‘rules’ I would use on making sure the men weren’t fat slob perverts—or worse.  I showed Cassie some of the IM conversation threads and she got hot herself thinking about it.  She asked me if any of the chatters seemed promising to me and I told her about two of them—Richard and Gerry.  They both promised me things like jewelry, so the rules were simple: they had to send me a full frontal nude photo of themselves, with face of course, and the promised necklaces/jewelry dangling from their cocks.  The jewelry thing, Cassie said, would insure they weren’t simply sending me a photo of some other guy from the web.  They also had to scan or photograph their driver’s license and tell me their car plate number.  We figured unless they were willing to expose themselves that way how could I trust them (I mean, they had to first trust me—that I wasn’t a cop or something)?  Cassie didn’t think anyone would ever go so far as to give me the license photo.

 

Surprise!  Richard e-mailed me the nude photo and a picture of his license.  He lived north of L.A. but not too far.  I thought he looked good for his age and didn’t look fat, so I decided he would be first.  The fact that he reminded me a little of my father I kept to myself, so Cassie wasn’t as turned on by his looks as I was.  I had to think about that a little.

 

We agreed he would meet me on the Redondo pier next to where everybody fishes.  He told me he had a BMW and would let me drive it.  He said he had a reservation for a suite at a Hollywood hotel with a Jacuzzi tub and everything, just like I asked.  Cassie’s role was to be my lookout, and safety net if I needed one.  She got all excited about the whole adventure; you’d think she was the one who was going to have sex with a stranger.

 

When the big day arrived I went to the pier early and hung out.  I wore jeans and a different shirt than what I told Richard I’d be wearing.  Cassie hung out where we knew he would park and waited for him to show up.  If it looked fishy she would follow him to the meeting place and kill the whole thing.  I knew how she could talk her way into or out of anything so I wasn’t worried.  As an added touch she made up a fake wallet-thing like you see on TV cop shows where they hang their badges on their belts or pockets.  The fake badge wouldn’t fool me, but I’m sure it would help divert Richard if he was going to be trouble.  Last resort was cell phones, though mine was a cheap thing my dad bought me.  Cassie was on speed dial.

 

When I saw the man walking toward me I had my doubts.  He looked fatter than his picture, but it was the guy named Richard.  He looked at me tentatively before introducing himself.  He looked around, I guess waiting for the trap, then smiled and asked me if I wanted to go for a ride.  When I asked him about shopping, going to Hollywood and the hotel, his smile faltered, which made me doubt him even more.  He led me to a Buick, not a BMW, explaining that it was in the shop.  This wasn’t going well.  I made a hand gesture, which was a signal for Cassie to get ready to ‘rescue’ me, before I slid into the passenger seat of his car.  He didn’t even start the engine before he was pawing me.  I hadn’t worn a bra and his rough hand hurt as he squeezed a breast under my top, telling me how hot I was and what he was going to do to me.  That was it.  I opened the car door and got out; he tried to grab my arm but to no avail.  He hollered at me, calling me names like “slut” and “cocktease” and was getting out himself until he saw Cassie standing there with her fake ‘badge’ hanging from her belt.  Not another word was spoken as he started the car and sped away. 

 

I was shaken up but not too badly.  I told Cassie she was a genius and gave her a rundown of what happened and we both agreed that Richard had probably doctored his photo, narrowing it somehow to disguise his girth.  So, he was a jerk—no excitement for today.

 

But, then there was Gerry.

 

He was the other guy who sent me what I asked for.  His photo didn’t appear edited to my now-cautious eye.  According to his driver’s license, Gerry was 35 and lived in Oceanside, which I saw was north of San Diego when I looked on a map.  He was just under 6 feet tall and looked athletically lean in the photo, as if he was a marathon runner or something.  Kind of cute, I thought, though not hunky handsome, with the thinning, wispy, light brown hair of someone who’d be prematurely bald.  His cock looked thick with a bulbous head as it stood out at half-erect attention.  Not like the porn stars but impressive enough to the point I was imagining how it would feel going into me.  Oh yeah, overall I was very wet thinking about a ‘date’ with Gerry.  Chatting, he told me he drove a Lexus GS (I knew ‘Lexus’ but ‘GS’ didn’t mean shit to me) and yes, he’d let me drive it, though not on the 405, hee-hee.

 

We set a day and time to meet on the pier, and Cassie and I got ready.  This time I wore a pair of new capris and a babydoll top.  Cassie joked it was the “innocent-sexy” look.  When Gerry approached me at the end of the Redondo pier, he was tentative but didn’t look as wary as Richard had been.  I gave him points for that.  He was actually cuter in person, with a nice smile.  Instead of rushing me to his car, he stayed and talked with me at the pier railing, a few fishermen and sea birds not seeming to bother him.  He told me about being divorced and about his job—a civilian engineer working for the military—and I told him about my father’s job designing satellites.  He said he’d been to L.A. and El Segundo many times for work but had never been to Redondo Beach.  He knew about me and school from chatting, so he mostly wanted to know what I did for fun (“besides hot writing,” he joked).

 

“Ever been to Huntington Beach?  I don’t know about these beaches, but Huntington’s my favorite.”

 

I said, “No, but maybe you can take me sometime.”

 

The invitation must have shocked him back to realizing where he was and who he was with, for he suddenly looked awkward, like a boy my age at a school dance rather than a 35-year-old man.  We talked a few minutes more until he said, “Ready for some sightseeing and shopping?”

 

I wondered if Cassie was freaking out by now since we hadn’t gone to his car right away.  When we got there, I whistled and said, “Wow, what a neat car,” while I made the everything’s okay so far’ signal to my hidden friend and guardian-for-the-day Cassie.  Gerry’s car was a beautiful, shiny (hard to keep it like that in this smoggy air, I thought) ruby-red Lexus that to my unknowledgeable eyes looked fast—and expensive.  Would he really let me drive it?

 

He laughed and said, like he read my mind, “It’s not as expensive a car as you might think, but it IS fast.  I’ve got a couple of speeding tickets to prove it.”

 

We got in and he started it up.  It even sounded fast.  Before we moved, he looked over at me and said something like this, though I can’t remember the whole speech verbatim: he said he felt like the luckiest man in the world to be with me, though he couldn’t understand how a “beautiful young girl” (his words—I must have blushed) wanted to meet older men like him.  He wondered if it was all about money and gifts with me, or some kind of scam.  He wanted to know “Why?”

 

I felt like I blushed again as I answered him.  “You know ‘cause you’ve read my stories, like how much I like sex, and…and I kinda like men instead of boys ‘cause they know how to make me feel good, and like I feel grown up…like a woman when I’m with them.”  I paused to catch my breath.  The half-smile on his face was very sweet; I mean, he wasn’t leering at me like a pervert would have done after I said that.  “And, I guess it’s like an adventure, like it’s exciting, and, shit, I don’t know…”

 

He put the car in gear and said, “Well, an adventure it’ll be!”

 

We drove north through the usual heavy traffic, so we weren’t going as fast as I think Gerry wanted to drive.  We went to Hollywood and we walked around and looked at the sidewalk stars like tourists, since I’d never been there before.  I gawked at the big Hollywood sign, of course, as if I’d never seen it hundreds of time on TV.  We walked around for a while, as I reminded myself that sweetly he hadn’t tried to touch me yet.  I hoped I wasn’t getting a false sense of the guy.  We picked up some tacos at a hole-in-the-wall shop before getting back into his car.  That’s when he gave me my presents.  The gold and emerald necklace I’d already seen wrapped around his cock in the photo, but it was more beautiful around my neck.  He gave me a Sidekick and showed me how to use it.  Wow, phone and camera with full keyboard for texting—awesome!  He told me about how he paid for a year’s contract for the service, “So you have a full year to figure out how to explain it to your folks before you get a bill.”  He laughed.

 

We drove east and then south.  When there was less traffic he pulled over and let me drive a few blocks.  I was so nervous but he said I did okay, though I think he was way more nervous than I was.  Before we swapped seats again, he asked me if he could kiss me.  I nodded my head and leaned toward him.  The kiss was so tender and sweet, and it lasted a long time.  I didn’t mind at all.  His tongue lazily played around my mouth as I felt myself get hot.  He had a hand on the side of my face, and I knew he wanted to touch me lower but he didn’t.  The only thing he caressed was my hair and cheek.  That’s when I knew I was going to love having sex with Gerry.

 

In a little while we drove past the La Brea tar pits and he asked if I wanted to stop, but I wasn’t that interested.  He then went to what he said was the edge of Beverly Hills, where we stopped at a lingerie shop that looked a lot like a Victoria’s Secret but wasn’t.  He whispered that I was to call him “Daddy” so we could tease the saleslady, who was already looking distressed when she saw us walk in like a couple.  I looked at all the sexy stuff and couldn’t decide.  Gerry asked me if pink really was my favorite color, and when I said yes, steered me toward a collection of pink silky nightgowns.  He picked out one he called a “teddy” and I agreed it was very pretty. 

 

I called him Daddy, and the sales clerk looked like she was going to die.  When he suggested a thong, I said, maybe a bit too loudly (on purpose, hee-hee), “Why do I need one, Daddy, since it will only come right off?”  The clerk looked like she was ready to bolt to a phone and call the cops, while Gerry looked flushed and had an erection stretching the front of his pants.  Oh boy, this was fun!

 

Back in his car, he called me “beautiful” again, and asked me if I was “ready.”

 

I knew what he meant, and I sure was.

 

We drove into downtown L.A. and went to a big hotel, where a valet took his car and we went inside.  Gerry carried a small bag while I carried my purse and the store bag with the new nightgown inside.  He checked in and we went up the elevator to the room.  When he opened the door and I walked inside, I couldn’t help but mutter another “Wow” as I surveyed the room.  It was like a suite, with a big king bed and a large Jacuzzi tub right there in the room.  There was also a big-screen TV and a plush sofa, and an ice bucket on a table with a big bottle of champagne chilling in it, along with two stemmed glasses my mom always called ‘flutes’.

 

“I ordered it when I made the reservation,” he said, pointing to the champagne.  “Want some?”  I said yes, and he proceeded to uncork the bottle and pour us each a glass.  He grinned and toasted “To my beautiful new friend.”  I thought it was both corny and cute.

 

Sipping our champagne sitting together on the sofa, he chuckled and said, “Okay, what do you wanna do?” 

 

He was being silly, and I liked that.  Except for the kiss, he still hadn’t touched me.  I thought that maybe he was just nervous and didn’t want to go too fast and scare me, though I figured if it was some other girl instead of me, going slow would only give her more time to get scared.  I wasn’t that other girl; I liked going slow.  I put my glass down on the end table and leaned into him.  This kiss was even more passionate than the one in the car.  His hand was on my thigh but that was as far as he went with it.

 

Our lips finally parted and he said, “Why don’t I fill up the tub.  I brought some candles in my bag.  We can relax.  You can model the teddy for me before we soak, okay?”

 

Sounded like the right thing to do, so I finished the last of my champagne and went into the bathroom to undress.  When all I had on was the pink nightie, I looked in the mirror and my breath caught in my chest.  The silky nightgown didn’t quite reach my crotch, and looking at my pussy peeking out underneath I could easily see that I was already glisteningly wet.  I looked myself up and down and felt like I wasn’t a girl anymore.

 

When I walked out of the bathroom, Gerry had the tub water running and he had a bunch of candles burning around the room.  The rest of the lights were all off.  He had stripped off his shirt, shoes and socks but still had his pants on.  The look on his face was marvelous as he stared at me.

 

He muttered “Oh God.”  He just stared.

 

“I’m real, Gerry, not a dream,” was what I said, but where the words came from I’ll never know.

 

He’d poured me another glass of champagne while I was in the bathroom, and now he handed it to me.  I took a sip as he kept staring.  I figured the first time we did it he’d probably cum in seconds.  “I guess this was a good choice,” I said, motioning to what I was wearing.  If I asked “Do you like it?” his head would have fallen off from nodding so hard.  I did a slow turn to model it for him.

 

“Damned if you aren’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  Doesn’t every girl love to be called beautiful?  He was staring at my ass.  His pants were bulging.

 

“Why don’t you take your pants off and come over here for another kiss,” I said, draining my bubbly with one big gulp.

 

He nearly tripped taking off his pants while standing up.  His cock was swollen and leaking precum.  I went to him and tilted my head back for his kiss.  He leaned down and took me into his arms.  The kiss was full of heat.  When we stopped to catch our breath, I suggested we get into the tub.  I raised my arms and I thought he’d die slipping the nightgown off over my head.  He lifted me into his arms and carried me into the tub before lowering me and turning on the tub’s jets.  We sat next to each other and enjoyed the hot, churning water.  He was still amazingly hesitant, even with an erection that was so stiff it must have hurt.  It was up to me.

 

I said to him in a voice barely above a whisper, “You know you don’t have to like be careful with me anymore.  We’re here and you can have me, Gerry.  I know you’ll be gentle with me.”

 

“God, I still can’t believe this is happening, it’s like a dream and I’ll wake up and this will be all gone,” he said before cupping a breast.  He caressed first one then the other, tweaking my nipples and surprising me on how tender they were.  A moan told him of my approval.  I reached under the water and held his cock.  It was his turn to moan.

 

We kissed before he whispered in my ear, “Let’s get out and go on the bed.”

 

We got out of the tub and helped dry each other, him hard and throbbing, me squishy-wet and damned ready.  As if to prolong the inevitable he poured us some more champagne.  As I sipped and moved to sit on the sofa, he went into his bag and took out a condom and a small bottle of lube.

 

“Can I taste you?”  He asked.

 

“Of course,” I answered.

 

As I suspected, he was tender yet good.  He muttered a comment about how wet I was already when he began with his tongue.  In a minute I was much wetter.

 

“Gerry, oh-oh-oh Gerry, it’s good, you’re good, oh, oh, oh, Oh!”  This one wouldn’t wait.  “Oh, I’m cummmmmmming!”  It was so great I think I squirted, so I bet he knew I wasn’t faking it just for him.”

 

“Holy God, you came so fast!”  He sounded amazed and proud in equal measure.  “I’ve got to fuck you.”

 

He unrolled the condom onto his leaking cock and got between my legs.  Half sitting and half laying on the sofa I spread wider and lifted my knees for him.  I kept looking at his unnaturally big cock-head, now stretching the end of the condom, and my post-orgasmic breath caught and my chest tightened.  I knew I was extra hot because my nipples ached so badly.  The lube was forgotten as he placed his cock at my pussy lips and parted them with a push.

 

He whispered “…tight…” and got into a fast rhythm right away.  I hadn’t really come down from the orally induced orgasm so I was cumming again almost immediately.  I screamed, he pounded.  I knew at some level of consciousness that he was going to cum.  I wanted to feel it AND see it.

 

“Gerry, Gerry, please pull out and cum on me.”

 

His eyes closed and groaning, I didn’t think he heard me, but he pulled out, stripped off the condom and in one motion stroked his cock and fired.  The first spurt was so amazing it was like water out of a garden hose, hitting my face and hair.  The second was thicker somehow and landed all over my chest.  Two or three more hit my belly and pubic mound before his orgasm was reduced to a drizzling trickle.  I loved it, and rubbed his cum all over my boobs and belly until I was sticky and smelling of that special musky scent of hot semen.

 

“Oh Candy, that was fantastic!  You’re fantastic!”  He wondered why I wanted him to pull out, with him wearing a condom and all, so I explained that I’m learning how much I loved to have guys cum on me.  He thought that was neat.

 

“Next time, I’ll take it in me.”

 

He was so lost in the bliss of cumming he wasn’t thinking about any next time, but when I said that, I saw the look in his eyes change and his cock stir.  We kissed.  He told me again how beautiful I was and how lucky he felt.  We drank more champagne.  We went back into the tub.  I rinsed off the sheen of cum, before stroking him so he was super-hard again.  I told him I thought he had a neat cock, with its (to me) big head.  Even after having sex, he blushed when I told him that.  We were both ready for round two, so I stood up in the tub, picked up the lube from the tub’s rim and worked a dollop into my pussy, his face agog as he watched me.

 

“Gotta be more slippery if we’re gonna do it in here,” I said.  When I turned to sit on him, he asked about a condom.  “No, I’m sure you’re clean, and I’m on the pill, you know.” He gasped as I sat down and wiggled so his cock went into me.

 

When I was all the way down, I kind of sat back and rocked my butt and leaned back against him.  He wrapped his arms around me and caressed my breasts while he nibbled at one ear.  I mean, I’ve been with some really big men but his cock felt so good in me and I felt really filled by him.  Oh boy, this was going to be another great one!  As if reading my mind, he began to thrust upward at the same time I began bouncing up and down on him.  Before I knew it I was fucking him so hard water was splashing everywhere.  He was squeezing my aching breasts.  When he pinched one of my swollen nipples, the floodgates were opened and I squealed in orgasm.  I kept squealing and bouncing as wave after wave of my climax swept over me just as the tub water was doing.

 

He hollered, “God, oh God, I’m cumming!”  He pulled me down hard on his lap and held me tight.  He didn’t have to announce his climax since I felt every spasm of his cumming cock inside me.

 

We stayed that way for a short while, letting the water calm to its normal jetted boil.  I turned my head and kissed him, long and sensual and warm and hard.  This was perfect.  I was a woman, not a girl.  I remembered the story I read on ASSTR—“Annie Loses It”—and I identified with the girl in the story.  That’s how I felt.  I knew I’d traversed into a whole new world for me, light years beyond my relationship with Jimmy, and even beyond being in the porn videos.  What this adventure with Gerry would mean going forward was anybody’s guess, but I knew it changed me, like Annie in Stevesaint’s story.

 

Eventually we got out and dried off.  We finished what champagne was left.  I teased him by putting the pink teddy back on and dancing around the room.  In turn, he teased me by whipping his cock around until it began to swell once more.  He made a comment about two times and still not on the bed, so I jumped onto the bed and bounced up and down on it.  We both laughed when he jumped onto the bed too, tackling me and wrestling me down.

 

Before we could think about it, we were fucking again.  I was kind of pleased with myself that I could get him hard so many times.  I urged him to take me doggie-style.  His hands gently held my hips while he established a sweet rhythm that was teasingly too slow for me.

 

“Ah-ah-ah, harder, please, harder…” I groaned.

 

“Candy’s wish is my command,” he said, as he started fucking me so hard he was lifting my knees from the bed on every thrust.

 

“Yes, yes, Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”  I buried my face in a pillow to stifle this scream since I figured somebody in another room would certainly think someone was being murdered in here.  I wasn’t aware he came until he collapsed onto the bedspread and pulled me down next to him, making a comment about my creampie.  Of course I didn’t understand until he pointed out his cum leaking from my pussy.

 

Lying like two spoons in a drawer, we came so close to falling asleep.  I thought how much I’d be in trouble if we had fallen asleep and didn’t wake up for hours and I’d been real late getting home.  Instead, Gerry got on the phone and ordered a bunch of room service munchies and cokes.  We pigged out and talked between mouthfuls.  I shushed him when he kept thanking me.  He didn’t have to thank me, I said, he was so sweet and I enjoyed every minute.  Since it was getting late, after we ate we got dressed.  Gerry told me he was going to stay the night at the hotel since he had the room booked anyway.  He said he had toiletries and a change of clothes in his car.  He joked that he was going to sleep with the pink nightie and smell it and dream of me all night. 

 

While driving me home, he asked me if we could do this again.  I explained that I couldn’t promise anything, wanting him to understand that no matter how much I enjoyed the day, I was still 14 and he had to take things slow, like I did.  I told him that I’d had a special day and enjoyed every minute, and mentioned that he still had to take me to Huntington Beach some day.  He liked that even if we didn’t set an exact date.  I would see him again I knew, but what kind of relationship we’d have was still up in the air.

 

I directed him to drive me to Jimmy’s place in Torrance instead of my house in Redondo.  I still felt uncomfortable letting Gerry know exactly where I lived.  Jimmy would drive me home.  I slipped on the necklace Gerry bought me, which made him smile a wistful smile.  Parked by Jimmy’s, we kissed before I got out of the car.  I waved as he drove away.

 

When I turned to walk toward Jimmy’s apartment, I swear I saw a Corolla just like Cassie’s pull from the curb and drive away.  What the hell?  Could she? —Could they?  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t her, I thought.  As I got closer I wondered if I could bring up the subject with Jimmy at all.  I mean, what could I say about trust and faithfulness when I just had sex all afternoon with a stranger?

 

A whole new world for me, indeed.

 

 

If you liked this, e-mail me at cottoncandyteen14@yahoo.com and let me know what you think of my writing.  You’ve read the other parts of my story, haven’t you?  This is Part 7.  You can find the rest at the Cotton Candy web site or you can click here to go directly to the next part. Thank you.

Candy