There's blasphemous/religious stuff so if that stuff offends you, please don't read this. Likewise, if you're too young, in the wrong area, offended by girl/girl sex, offended by toilet play (then you're missing out!), offended by girls who aren't dumb and blonde, or just plain offended, do us both a favour and go away.
In other words, you should only be reading this if you're allowed to and want to. Simple? Okay...
I walked along the side of the carpark, occasionally stumbling on the cracked paving. Like I was paying any attention to where the fuck I was going. Honestly, these seaside holidays were fucking boring as hell, and it was getting worse every year. I'm 19, I've reached that stage where I'm just growing apart from my family, and as sad as it is, there's nothing I really can do about it, even if I could be fucked...
Is this where I go into the "I've got blonde hair halfway down my back, 32C tits, blah fucking blah blah" description of me? Well. Long blonde hair hasn't been in style since the 80s. Even most porn stars have caught up with that now. Likewise I've never worn lacey underwear in my life. Eww. Anyway, for the record my hair is cut spock rock style and black. I have no idea what bra size I am. Show me a girl who has any two bras that are actually the same size, and I'll show you someone with implants. They're not all that big though. Because while I'm quite tall, I'm pretty thin. And guess what, thin AND big breasted are not a natural combination.
Let's just say my titties are a nice handful and I like playing with them, and letting my friends play with them. It's the closest I'm getting to sex at the moment, those drunk moments that are all laughs and jokes at the party, but you know you're going to be ferverently masturbating to the memory as soon as you get home, and hopefully, so is she. At least I wish she is, that is. Some of my friends are hot and I'm totally aching to fuck them.
But no luck. I haven't got laid in six months. I'm crabby as hell. I want sex and I want it now and everyone else, unless they're going to fuck me, is totally irrelevant. My chances of scoring at wholesome family beachside holiday town are remote. There's the odd teenage party house, full of daddy's spoilt little bourgeoisie girls, drinking stolli and banging 28 year old local surfers who're either going to knock them up, or give them the clap. There's like a 2% chance I could score with one of those blonde hoes. Make that 3%, it's trendy to "experiment" with bisexuality nowadays. But I've only got sex here once, and that was with an older goth girl, when I was 16. We fantasized about abducting one of those blonde sluts, and tying her up somewhere and shitting all over her fake tanned body.
The closest we actually came to it was when Corinna, the goth chick, convinced me to let her take a crap on my chest. She started my love affair with female faeces, and all things anus-related. The only trouble is that she lives interstate, and I've never found another girl who's into that. We wrote a few letters, sent a few dirty emails, then lost touch. She dyed her hair a sensible brown and became a law student. She wears white fucking capri pants these days. I bet she looks like Shakira or some shit. It's a shame. A super hot coprophilliac goth with a joy division tattoo is a terrible thing to waste.
Every year, when my parents make me come with the rest of the family for the obligatory two weeks, I have vague fantasies that I'll hook up with one of those surfwear sluts in such a filthy manner, and get to practise my latent domme skills, corrupting the bitch totally. Or better yet, having three or four of them invite me to stay in their parent's house, and having them use me, beat me, abuse me...there's something wonderfully, pant-destroyingly erotic about sex with people you despise, especially the degredation of submitting to them.
Sometimes, being a dyke by default is totally weak. I'm handicapped by the fact that I find almost all boys phyiscally revolting. Otherwise I'd have my pick of the highschool kids here. I get enough of them hitting on me at the pub. Hmm. Football team gangbang. Now there's an unappealing thought. Or I could fuck some ageing businessman living out his mid life crisis. If there was money in it, I'd probably actually do it. I've had enough shitty "I want to try being bisexual like I read in cosmo" lovers to know I can fake it with the best of them...But there's been very, very few guys that ever turned me on.
Not so Corinna, goddamn she ruled.
I remember one time we were walking half drunk through the cemetary out towards the highway. She stopped in front of this huge tombstone, and suggested we both piss on it. I was drunk, and feeling very punk rock so I readily agreed. We soaked the last resting place of some poor moron, and stood back, pants down, to survery our handiwork: urine, greenish yellow against the granite, dripping down the headstone. It looked good. No. Good's not the word...more like "delicious". By some unspoken, sudden agreement, we both dropped to our knees and began licking up our combined piss. God, this was perverted.
And thanks to her, it got so much worse too.
We were on our hands and knees, licking the tombstone greedily, occasionally swallowing each other into passionate kisses as our tongues met on the pee stained granite. Each of us had a hand working furiously in our cunts, our pale white butts seemingly humping nothing in the dark night. Musta looked kind of funny.
I'm naturally pretty submissive. So when Corinna groaned out "eat me, whore!" I nearly tripped over my panties getting around behind her and latching my mouth onto her cunt. I licked furiously, and I have to admit inexpertly, slobbering all over her thighs and stabbing into her hole with my tongue (hey, I was only sixteen), but it did the job because she came in shuddering waves, her head resting against the grave.
I couldn't held giggling when she rolled over: her hair had ended up soaked in our piss, and was plastered to her face. "Shut up, bitch" she laughed, and before I knew it, she was on me, wrestling me to the ground, with her knee in my stomach, pinning me. Her piss soaked her dripped around me and stuck to my face as she bent down and kissed me deep and long, her pierced tongue bitingly cold in my mouth.
She stood up, lifting me, embracing me, turning me round, sitting me down on the grave and pushing me up against the piss soaked headstone. She lifted herself off me and with a lingering touch said "wait there, Chloe"
Yes. My fucking name is Chloe. Do you have a problem with that? Because if you do you're not going to get to whack it off to the sex scene that's about to come up...no? Good. Let's go on then.
So I'm lying there on the grave, legs spread wide, previously unmentioned tshirt pulled up over my boobs, jeans nowhere to be found (I did later. They were very muddy). It's the middle of the night, I'm still pretty drunk, I'm in a graveyard in a crappy beach town, I'm swimming in my own girl cream, masturbating, awaiting the return of an extremely perverted girl whom I just met three days ago, who's going to do debased to me things that will probably send me to hell for all eternity. The sheer thought made me masturbate even harder.
Presently Corinna returned. She had the most evil grin on her face and I saw why as she held it up before me. It was a thick wooden crucifix. About two feet in length all up. I don't know where the fuck she got it from but I had a fair idea...I seemed to remember it sticking up from a bunch of flowers and shit in front of a recent grave. My my my. Naughty. Her grin widened as, placing a finger on my lips, she lowered herself so she was level with my crotch, spread wide open. She roughly teased the skin at the entrance to my cunt with the base of the cross. I knew what was coming, I knew it was going to be excruciatingly painful, and I knew I wanted it and would beg if I had to.
As it was, I started to say "please" but it turned into "pleeaasssaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!" If the birds nesting in the nearby trees had any respect for tradition they would've all taken flight in an orgy of flapping wings. But they didn't, bastards. They were probably too busy watching me humping baby jesus on the top of some dead guy's last resting place, screaming profanities and a few "fuck me Corinna! fuck me jesus!"'s as well. Corinna kept twisting the wood flat so it stretched me sideways painfully. It hurt a lot. I didn't care. The unlubed wood tearing at my labia as it thrust into me hurt a lot. I didn't care. The granite grave top biting at my bare butt cheeks hurt a lot. And I didn't care. I was lost in pure excstacy, in the physical sensations, and the sheer erotic thrill of doing something so dirty: being practically raped with a religious icon.
When the cool brass of the little jesus figurine came in contact with my clit, I lost it completely. The crucifix was practically ripped out of Corinna's hands by my contracting pussy muscles. My bowels gave way for some reason (this has never happened before or since) and shit splattered out my arse and onto the grave. And I began screaming in agony, and ograsm, as the pain of the crucifix inside me, and what it had done to me soft flesh, began to sink through. Corinna grabbed me by the throat and started choking off my screams, laughing at me, and spitting in my mouth. She relaxed her grip, and I smiled back at her, rolling of the grave to collapse on the wet grass to the side.
Corinna grabbed me by a fistful of hair and lifted my face up over the brown mess I'd left on the grave. "Naughty, naughty bitch!" she scolded, and pushed me face first into it. I gagged a little, but this wasn't the first time I'd rubbed my own shit on my face. I'd done it a few times before in the privacy of my bathroom. I found out later that my willingness to submit to this had intrigued Corinna and given her some ideas.
Still grasping my hair, she lifted me off the grave and turned me to face her. Laughing at my dishevled state, she kissed my now brown cheek, getting some of the mess on herself in the process. Seemingly oblivious to this, she took me by my hand and led me off, while I was still struggling to get my clothes sorted and find my jeans, through the graveyard. "How did that feel baby?" she asked. "Uhh...well" I replied, still unable to talk, almost tripping over the pants I'd just found and was now trying to put on backwards "I think I may have found religion..."
to be continued very soon.
So what'd you think? Hit me up with email and let me know. Encouragement and suggestion is appreciated. Slutkristy@yahoo.com
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