Diary of a Young Girl
- 4 years ago
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Diary Doodling 'Bout Sex free porn video
Dear Diary:
Julie has been after me for some weeks now to find a guy and get laid properly. I would if I could. I mean, it's not THAT easy for a girl to get laid! DUH!
Okay, okay, I know just about every guy on campus and beyond would like to get into my pants; well maybe I'm exaggerating slightly, but ... not a day goes by when I don't almost cream in those same pants over a dreamy guy or three. It's just ... well; there must be some sort of chemistry to attracting a member of the opposite sex. Hmmmmmm, maybe if I sprinkle a trail of phenerones...
Dear Diary:
It must be magic or sumpin' cause after putting my lament down last night, I've got a hot possibility today. Yes, yes ... his name is Charles, and it took me forever to find that out, cause all his friends call him Crotch. YEAH! Crotch! I couldn't wait to tell Julie.
"That's the guy's real name?" she said incredulously.
I shivered deliciously and went into rapid speak. "It'stheonlynameI'veever heardanyonecall him, buthischristennameisCharles."
"Crotch like in crotchety?" a skeptical Julie pondered half to herself.
"Think lower," I said smiling confidently and blushing at the same time. "Think below the belt."
"Oh." For the first time ever, I saw Julie become flustered.
"He's considered quite a ladies man. I suppose that's where he got the name." I offered trying to be helpful. Meow..."
"Well, what exactly do you know about him?"
Was this Julie's paternal interest, I wondered?
"He's got a good bod ... long hair. It's blondish and shoulder length. He plays guitar in a band at some dumpy club off campus on weekends ... and when he smiled at me my knees buckled."
Julie started to giggle and I quickly joined her. We hugged a lot and then she asked me if I was horny.
"I've been using Barbi doll all afternoon. I'm afraid I'm gonna wear her out."
Her hand found its way under my mini skirt and we were off to frolic in the bliss's of cunnilingus land. Ahhhhhhhh!
Dear Diary:
You wouldn't believe!
Crotch made a date with me for Tuesday night, (yesterday) I cut two classes to bathe and make myself look great. Also had to rush out and do last minute shopping to find just the thing to wear. Ugh, was that dumb!
Memo to self: NEVER WAIT 'TIL THE LAST MINUTE TO FIND AN OUTFIT.
I wound up borrowing a dress from Doris who lives down the hall. I hardly know her, but we share the same size, so if I have my way, we'll become good friends.
Two glasses of white wine while waiting ... yeah, I was ready early, and I was giddy with apprehension. All I could think of was this gigantic cock hovering in the air above me, like the Goodyear Blimp. Needless to say, when the doorbell rang, I was halfway to a climax. Ya know a little stimulation never hurt anyone, so I dropped Barbi and stumbled to the door. Naturally all my gracefulness deserted me in my time of need.
My time of need, indeed!
I crashed into the door and almost knocked the wind out of me. It took a lot of self-control, but I managed to open the door and remain standing.
There he was--him and his mythical snake. The door closed silently behind him.
With a sudden flourish, he presented a small bouquet of flowers to me.
I was stunned. Naturally I hugged him in thanks. Naturally he jabbed his "whoa, big fella" into me. Naturally my frisky pussy bumped back.
It wasn't long before nature took its course. Somehow we were kissing and into some heavy dry humping. His mouth tasted strongly of mouthwash. How considerate of him I thought.
An auspicious beginning, if I worked things right, I just might get laid tonight.
Ummmm, he was a good kisser! (Since when did I become a connoisseur of this form, I wondered, never mind I told myself, if you like it then it's good. I liked it VERY much.)
Crotch broke off the kiss but holding me close whispered hoarsely, "Anybody else home?"
"No," I said.
"Let's move over to the couch for a minute, okay?"
"Let's," demonstrating how cooperative I could be. If he only knew that I was putty in his hands.
Holding me tight against him, we wobbled to the couch and collapsed on it. My dress had risen high up on my thighs. We kissed again. I was ready. I was primed. I was kissing him back.
Was I being too aggressive? My hand was inside his shirt, exploring his chest. His hands were around my back. Then I felt it. He was feeling for my bra strap. I wasn't wearing one.
"Uhhh, Crotch?"
"Huh?"
"No bra."
"Wha?"
"No bra. I'm not wearin' one."
"Really?'
"Really."
"Wow!"
Testing my credibility, he dropped his head to my chest and nibbled at my right breast.
"Ummm."
"Err, Crotch?"
"Ummm?"
"Give me a sec and I'll wriggle out of this dress, otherwise it may get wrinkles that are unironable."
"Ummm, sure," and doing a kind of push up, he gave me the room I needed.
As I began to peel the dress off I glanced at his eyes. They were riveted on my chest. When I'd finished removing it, his eyes were big as saucers.
A split second later he was kneading my breast kinda roughly while biting hard on the other nipple.
"Hey," I cried out. "Easy on the body parts Crotch, take it easy. Don't bite -- lick or suck, take your pick. And fondle don't squeeze 'em with that a vise-grip.
After that he settled down and was doing pretty good.
My turn--my hand—my inquisitive little paw, meandered into his lap. Expecting to find a steel rod waiting for me I was dumbfounded to discover his pants were soaking wet!
"Crotch!" I cried out. "What the hell!"
"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!" Seemed to all he could manage as his face turned crimson.
"What is..." and I knew. He'd gone off without me.
I began to cry in disappointment. I felt terrible. I just knew my makeup was smeared. Mascara tracks ran down my face -- I could see them without the aid of a mirror.
Two, no make that three zits appeared without warning on my previously perfect complexion. My life was a disaster.
Then I heard Crotch sobbing.
Glancing up through tear filled eyes I saw him bent over, pounding his well ... crotch with his fist.
"Crotch, don't," I said, "You'll hurt yourself."
"Don care." And he smashed his fist down again.
My self-pity vanished and I tried to comfort him. That failed. Realizing that stopping him was my first objective I placed my hand on his lap.
"Owww!" He'd punched my hand.
"Ohhh! Sorry! I'm sorry Rachel! I ... I didn't mean ... Oh, I'm so sorry.
The pain receded before he stopped apologizing.
We put some ice on my hand and he seemed to calm down. We moved back to the couch, but didn't sit. I stood there in my royal purple Victoria Secret's laciest panties and looked at his wet, stained tan slacks.
"I ... I ... do it all the time. I ... just c ... can ... can't hold back. Soon's I get near a girl -- wham! I shoot my load. That ... That's why they call me Crotch. All my damn pants have stains on them. Semen stains. These were new slacks. I bought them this afternoon. Oh, shit! I'm sorry Rachel. I ... I'll leave now if you don't mind."
My evil mind went into overtime.
"Wait! Just a second. Come on, get those slacks off and the ... whatever you've got on underneath too. I'll throw them in the washer. Surprisingly, he did.
"Now will you admit that you owe me something?" I asked gently.
"Well, yeah?"
"Get back on the couch Crotch," I said pushing him in the general direction.
When we were both seated, I guided his mouth to my breast and took hold of his flaccid thingy and started to stroke it. We spent several contented minutes just messing around like that, before Crotch started to rise up. I wasn't disappointed, when his little elevator reached the top floor it was about six inches, most satisfactory for my inaugural event.
"Why don't you take my panties off Crotch?" I said in my most seductive voice. "Your thingy seems be alive and well, don't you think?"
"Uhhh, yeah. Okay."
I'll always prefer a man of few words from now on. The only other thing he said before "Goodnight" was "Did you like it?" somewhere in the middle of our um, activity.
Back to the great event: Raising my hips to help him along, my purple pants were flicked up in the air and floated to the floor as I was wrapping my legs around his hips. I steered Crotch to my hole and he entered me. It seemed to be working okay. We kept the pace to a slow, experimental level for a while and then as Crotch ground deeper into me, my legs twined themselves around his shoulders and as I came for the first time, my legs were knocking the ceiling tiles loose.
All in all, it was a good experience. Err, for both of us. For a first lay it was decent enough, I didn't come like I do with Julie, but ... I did enjoy the feel of his thingy poking around inside me. We agreed to do it again soon, and he left around eleven, just as the news was coming on.
I have decided NOT to tell Julie anything bad about Crotch.
Dear Diary:
It's funny; Julie's imagination has run wild. She's literally begged me to let her 'nail' Crotch. But I maintain a strictly hands off policy as we agreed upon a while back. Something tells me she's a bit miffed and will get back at me someway. Oh well, we're still bestest friends. AND LOVERS!!!
Dear Diary:
How's this for romantic! Friday night in the lightly falling rain, about four blocks from the campus, I sat on a darkened loading dock and wrapped my legs around Crotch beneath his oversized raincoat. And managed to work him all the way in. He managed to hold himself in check, not coming until we started fucking. I sucked him back up and he lasted quite a while. I came twice. He told me he wanted to keep my panties. What could I say? After that, I started wearing thigh-highs or nothing at all. Bras and panties were out of the question.
Dear Diary:
Sunday afternoon we snuck into a dressing room at Lord & Taylor, emerging twenty minutes later, me with a cramp in my thigh, Crotch with a crick in his neck and a half-dollar sized hickey on his neck as well. The sales clerk hollered after us not to come back.
Dear Diary:
Last night (Wednesday) we were riding in a Yellow Cab, when, in the middle of a super kiss, the cabbie hit a pothole and our teeth banged against each other. Crotch spent all day today waiting for his dentist to complete major repairs to a front tooth. He looks good tho. He went down on me for the first time today. He needs lessons. I shall try to be a good teacher. Since I'm a great learner it shouldn't be too hard.
PS: His premature ejaculation seems to have gone away. Let's hope so.
Dear Diary:
Saturday: Tears--nothing but tears. Crotch has decided to transfer to Memphis State. MEMPHIS STATE? What's at Memphis State?
No farewell, just a call--AS HE WAS LEAVING! I'd be crushed without my Crotch if it weren't for Julie who's been a great comfort to me.
Libbie
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