Gender: Female Age: 59 Location: N/A
Freddy in the Bathroom: Virginity Rubbed Away
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I'm a middle-age housewife and mother, and I have a "dirty little secret" that I want to share with you.
On a hot and sunny Sunday afternoon back in the late summer of 1965, an older boy named Freddy sexually molested me.
And I didn't do anything to try to stop Freddy from having sex with me. I didn't try to talk him out of it. I didn't put up a fight, or scream for help, or try to run away from him. Instead, I cooperated with Freddy the whole time, as I was letting him take my virginity.
Here's how it all happened:
Freddy's mother, Maria, was a close friend of the family. She was down on her luck, and was trying to get back on her feet again (financially) while she and her teenage son were temporarily living in the small guest house located in the back yard of my family's home.
Freddy's real name was Alfredo, but everyone just called him Freddy. He was fifteen years old at the time, and he was a very dark-skinned Hispanic boy. In fact, Freddy was so dark-skinned that even though his facial features looked Mexican-American, from the neck down, his body looked like it easily could have belonged to a black guy instead of a Chicano.
Of course, I knew Freddy pretty well, but I didn't like him very much at all as a person. And my dislike for him had very little to do with his looks. In fact, I have to admit that Freddy wasn't an ugly-looking guy at all. He was about 5' 8" tall and had an athlete's slender muscular type of body. But it was Freddy's smart-alecky personality that I couldn't stand. I thought he acted like a real jerk most of the time.
One of the few good things about the house I lived in when I was growing up was that my father was a great handyman, and he added (built) a couple of rooms onto the back of the house when I was around ten years old. This is what finally enabled my older sister and I to each have our own bedrooms. But with me, my mother and father, my two sisters and my younger brother, there were six of us packed into our small home, which was only around 850 square feet in total size--and that was the size of our house AFTER the room additions that my dad had done.
So I used to go to Maria's even-smaller house out in the back yard to watch television by myself on Sundays in order to take a break from my not-so-small family for a while. Freddy and his mother would normally be at church on Sundays. However, on this one particular Sunday, I didn't know it yet, but I wasn't alone in the little guest house.
During a TV commercial, I went to use the only bathroom in the house. It was pretty small for a full bath (the bath tub, sink and toilet barely fit in the room), and it was located immediately off the equally-small living room at the very front of the house, where I had been watching TV.
After I had finished relieving myself, I opened the bathroom door to leave--and there was Freddy, standing in the doorway, intentionally blocking my exit from the bathroom.
I got very scared, and I quickly backed away from Freddy. He was at least eight inches taller than me, and physically much bigger (much more muscular) than I was. He was also three years older than me. Freddy had me cornered in the small bathroom, and I could tell from the no-nonsense look on his face that he was up to no good. And I realized that Freddy wanted something "naughty" from me. Why else would he have chosen to corner me in the bathroom?
A thousand different thoughts raced through my mind, one right after another. For example, I thought about how Freddy had to have been waiting right outside the bathroom door the whole time that I was peeing, and about how he must have been intentionally listening to me as my urine was splashing into the toilet bowl underneath me.
At first, I assumed that Freddy probably wanted to see my boobs. I knew that the boys at school always seemed to make such a big deal out of seeing a girl's breasts. So when Freddy initially blocked my exit from the bathroom, I began to mentally prepare myself for what I thought would be me taking off my blouse and showing him my bare breasts. Actually, it would be more accurate for me to refer to them as my bare "breast-buds," since they were really not much more than super-enlarged, puffed-out nipples back then. I figured that Freddy would probably look at my small boobs for a little while, and that he might even touch them and feel them. Then after he did that, I naively assumed that he would simply let me leave the bathroom. But it turned out that Freddy wasn't interested in my breasts--I mean, my breast-buds--at all.
Freddy stepped into the small bathroom with me, which automatically made me back up even farther. Then in a soft-but-serious tone of voice, he told me to pull down my pants. I just stopped in my tracks and stood there for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. I'm sure that I must have looked like a deer in the headlights.
"What's the matter with you? Didn't you hear me?" Freddy asked, as he took another step towards me, and then quickly added, much more forcefully this time, "Pull down your pants!"
I thought to myself, Well okay, so Freddy wants to see my panties, instead of my boobs. I guess that's not so bad. If I go ahead and show him my panties, maybe that'll make him happy and he'll let me leave.
[Author's note: Please keep in mind that, back in 1965, underwear was considered such a private and personal thing that all the television networks were prohibited from showing a real live woman dressed only in her bra and panties in a TV commercial, which of course is something that the television networks frequently do nowadays.]
So I undid the top button and zipper of my pants, and pulled my pants down around my thighs, leaving my white cotton panties in place. Then I stood back up straight and let Freddy get a good look at my cheap, very-plain panties.
I was very thankful that I wasn't menstruating that day, and therefore didn't have a bulged-out panty crotch that would have been caused by one of the super-thick feminine napkins that I was forced to wear during my five-day-long periods. I felt even more "cursed" than most young girls did, because MY periods had never lasted for less than five whole days, and had always been extremely heavy--and especially so, during the first three days. Despite the super-absorbent feminine napkins that I used, my "overly-generous" menstrual flow still ended up ruining lots of panties, and it seemed like I constantly had to buy new ones.
I need to back up here for just a moment in order to give you a little more background information before I continue on with my story.
I was born in 1953 into a lower middle class Hispanic family of Mexican origin. But I just happen to have hazel eyes and very light skin. And so my European looks have always made me stand out like a sore thumb whenever I was around the rest of my immediate family, who were all much darker-skinned than I am.
Back when I was a pre-teen, I was very much a tomboy kind of girl. I hate to admit it, but my face and hair looked very similar to the girl who played the role of Scout in the 1962 movie "To Kill A Mockingbird," starring Gregory Peck. However, despite my tomboyish ways, I was--and still am--completely heterosexual.
At twelve years old, my still-growing breasts struggled to fill out an A-cup size bra, but my boobs were already way too big for my liking. I also hated bras at the time. And so I didn't normally wear one--that is, unless I absolutely HAD to in order to be "appropriate" in certain situations (like going to church, etc.)--until I was a freshman in high school. By that time, my boobs had finally grown so large (easily filling out a B-cup) that I had no choice but to wear a bra to support them.
And just for the record, I had already reached puberty (I had experienced my first-ever menstrual period) when I was around eleven and a half, which was about nine months BEFORE this unforeseen "sexual encounter" with Freddy took place.
Despite my Mexican-American heritage, I do not speak Spanish well enough to be considered bilingual. However, I do understand people whenever they are speaking to me in Spanish, and that's because my parents often spoke to us kids in Spanish. But they didn't want us kids speaking any other language at home except English. And so we always talked to our parents in English, even if they asked us a question in Spanish. And that's why I understood the next sentence that came out of Freddy's mouth, even though he decided to speak to me in Spanish.
Okay, now back to my story:
"'Derriba tus bragas tambien!' (Pull down your panties too!)" Freddy barked out at me in Spanish as soon as he realized that I had mistakenly assumed that the reason he had told me to pull my pants down was because he wanted to see my panties.
I thought to myself, Oh my God! Freddy doesn't care about seeing my panties. He wants to see my pussy! And I just know he's not gonna let me leave unless I show him my pussy. So I guess I'd better just go ahead and get it over with...
After taking a couple of deep breaths to try to calm myself down a little bit, I placed a hand on each side of my hips, stuck my thumbs down inside the elastic waistband of my panties, and very slowly pulled my panties down around the middle of my thighs. Then I slowly straightened back up and let Freddy get his first look at my hairy pussy.
And yes, I did say my HAIRY pussy. Even at age twelve, my dark-brown pubic hair was already thick enough that, for all practical purposes, it just about hid my entire pussy mound (my vulva) from Freddy's view. But that fact wouldn't end up making any difference in the long run.
Freddy's eyes were glued to the front of my hairy crotch as he unzipped his pants. Then he pulled his pants and his white jockey shorts down around the middle of his thighs to expose his whole "package" to me.
That caught me totally by surprise. But even so, I found that I couldn't take my eyes off of Freddy's bare, alien-looking "thing" (his circumcised penis, with its fully-exposed head), which was already partially-erect by the time that I caught my first glimpse of it. At the same time, I was still feeling pretty embarrassed by Freddy's constant pussy-staring, and I didn't know what was going to happen next.
"I want you to play with my dick," Freddy calmly told me. (Actually, that was the translated-from-Spanish version. What Freddy REALLY said to me was something along the lines of: 'Quiero que tu juegues con mi verga.') He continued to stare at my crotch while he slowly approached me, and I backed away from him just a little bit farther.
Then Freddy verbally threatened me. But this time, the vast majority of what he told me was in English. He said, "If you try to run away or scream, I'll tell your parents what YOU did. I'll tell them that you asked me to come into the bathroom with you, and that you pulled your pants down to show me your 'panocha' (pussy), and then you BEGGED me to pull down my pants so that you could play with my 'verga' (dick)."
Needless to say, I felt backed into a corner in more ways than one. I quickly decided that it was in my best interest for me to go ahead and cooperate with Freddy. After all, his bare alien-looking genitals intrigued me so much that I couldn't stop staring at them, no matter how hard I tried. Believe it or not, it also helped to put me little more at ease when I saw that the whole crotch area surrounding Freddy's dick was just about as hairy as mine was. It was about the ONLY thing that our two genitals had in common.
And I naturally began to rationalize the whole situation. I asked myself when else would I ever get the chance to actually touch and feel a guy's bare "thing"? That's the term I preferred to use for "penis," even though I knew that it was also called a "dick," or a "wiener," or a "verga" (which actually means "rod" in Spanish).
Freddy left the bathroom door wide open as he moved up close to me, to stand right in front of me, face-to-face. I reached across and tentatively touched and felt Freddy's dick and his balls with my fingertips for a minute or two, while he just stood there and watched me. Then he took my hand and placed it around the shaft of his growing dick, and he showed me exactly how he wanted me to slowly and repeatedly squeeze his penis. Once I had begun squeezing and actively feeling out his dick on my own, Freddy told me that I could go ahead and feel his balls too, if I wanted. And so I did.
Now, when it comes to guys, I have always been attracted to very light-skinned Hispanic or white guys--especially to blonds and redheads. So I thought that Freddy's dark-brown-skinned penis was pretty ugly-looking. However, that still didn't stop the sight and feel of it from turning me on. How could I NOT become sexually aroused? I had never had my hands on a boy's sexually mature penis before.
Fortunately for ME, the look and feel of Freddy's balls turned me on much more than his dick did. I really don't know WHY Freddy's balls were turning me on so much that day--I just know that they did. So despite my anxiety, it didn't take long for me to become aroused, and I felt that all-too-familiar tingling sensation down between my legs while I was fondling Freddy's sexy balls and massaging his dick. And naturally, I could feel my clitoris becoming erect, as it was faithfully responding to all of this extreme mental sexual arousal. And my embarrassment was magically going away.
Freddy reached his hand across towards my bare crotch. That didn't really surprise me at this point, because I had been EXPECTING him to do that. After all, I was already playing with HIS "thing." It was only natural that he would want to play with mine too. However, that realization on my part still didn't stop me from instinctively wincing and pressing my thighs tightly together when Freddy's fingers first touched that most-private area of my body. Not since I was a toddler in diapers, had anyone--other than myself--ever laid a hand on or near my bare pussy.
Freddy immediately began to feel out the very front part of my hairy pubic area with his hand, and then he reached down between my legs and started massaging my entire pussy mound with the tips of his fingers. And that felt good to me. And so my thigh muscles started to relax and my legs automatically spread apart a little bit--just far enough to give Freddy easier access to my pussy.
Then Freddy inserted his fingers into the front of my slit, and he began running his fingers up and down along my crack, rubbing my erect clit in the process. And of course, that felt incredibly good to me too--so good that, within a matter of a few seconds, I was no longer feeling very scared of Freddy at all. And that was because Freddy's persistent stimulation of my hood-covered clit was just about to make me cum.
"Oh, yeah. That's it," I heard Freddy remark to himself under his breath as he felt my already-moist pussy become noticeably wetter while I was cumming. Of course, my very first orgasms are always mild. But just as soon as that very first mild orgasm was over with, there was a part of me that quickly began to feel "okay" with the idea of letting Freddy feel out my pussy. In fact, the truth IS that at this point in our encounter, I found myself actually WANTING Freddy to keep on playing with my pussy.
It's amazing how much even a mild orgasm can change a girl's whole way-of-thinking. Freddy's dark-brown-skinned penis wasn't looking quite so ugly and unattractive to me any more. In fact, it was really starting to turn me on a lot more. I especially liked the way that the loose outer skin could easily be moved up and down along the inner shaft while I was squeezing and feeling out his dick. And I would be a complete liar if I told you that I wasn't equally fascinated by the look and feel of the HEAD of Freddy's penis--because I WAS.
When Freddy had first cornered me in the bathroom and told me to pull down my panties, I knew that he was going to force himself on me and sexually molest me in some way or another--and I initially hated him for that. But now, with my first orgasm under my belt and a nice moist pussy between my legs, I found myself having a hard time staying angry with Freddy about his having coerced me into having sex with him. I mean, how could I continue being upset with someone who had just made me cum and feel so incredibly good?
My legs automatically spread apart a little bit more. Mind you, I didn't INTENTIONALLY spread my legs farther apart. They just kind of moved apart, all on their own, which of course gave Freddy's hand and fingers easy access to my entire pussy mound. And Freddy took his time while he was methodically feeling out the various parts of my pussy: my thick super-fleshly outer lips; my pencil-thin long-shafted clitoris, with its even-longer loose-fitting hood; my large thin butterfly-shaped inner labia; and that little puffed-out mound of reddish-pink flesh at the very center of my crack that forms the structure surrounding and supporting my piss-hole.
Freddy handled my pussy in a fairly rough and awkward manner, compared to the way that I would handle my own pussy whenever I was masturbating. However, that rough and awkward handling of my pussy by Freddy only served to turn me on even more, and I continued to experience mild-to-moderate orgasmic sensations, which naturally increased the wetness of my pussy.
It didn't take very long at all for Freddy to get bolder and begin sticking the tip of his finger up into my gaping fuck-hole. And he moved his finger all around just inside of my vaginal entrance as he was eagerly exploring it.
At this point I was standing in front of the bathtub, facing the doorway with my back towards the tub, and the heels of my feet just inches away from the edge of the tub. The toilet was on my left and the bathroom wall was on my right. Freddy was standing directly in front of me, facing me. His much taller and wider body was totally blocking the bathroom doorway from my view.
"I need you to move over here," Freddy said, patting his left hand against the bathroom wall, across from the toilet. Of course, I immediately complied with this latest request, and Freddy quickly pivoted around to once again stand directly in front of me, facing me. "Now go ahead and lean back against the wall," Freddy suggested.
"Okay, that's good. Now I want you to spread your legs far apart," Freddy demanded in a very even, serious voice. And just like an obedient dog, I faithfully responded by spreading my thighs apart as far as they would go, with my pants and panties still wrapped around the middle of my thighs, and stretched taut between them.
Freddy began sticking his fingers up deep inside of my vagina. At first, it was just one finger at a time, but it didn't take long before he had two fingers inside of me at the same time. And he moved his fingers all around inside of my vagina as he was eagerly exploring every part of my baby-making hole that he could reach.
Luckily, I didn't have an intact hymen at the time. So for me, there was no pain or vaginal bleeding involved. Also, from the time that I first started masturbating with my hands, I have always loved sticking my fingers up into my own vagina. Not only that, but I just happened to have a large vagina for a girl of my petite body-size. So I was completely okay with the vaginal penetration by Freddy's fingers that was taking place down between my legs. In fact, I was much more than just OKAY with it. I was enjoying the heck out of it!
And I felt very guilty about the fact that I was actually ENJOYING myself throughout this mutual genital fondling phase of my sexual encounter with Freddy. Being the "good Catholic girl" that I was, I knew that what Freddy and I were doing together was wrong and very naughty. But, ironically, that very realization on my part had only served to make the whole experience seem even more sexy and erotic for me at the time, just like the rush or high that a person gets from doing taboo things.
Meanwhile, as I was fondling Freddy's dick and balls, his dick had quickly grown much bigger, and had become very firm and erect right in my own hands. And of course, his stiff penis was now jutting out from his body, so that the tip of it was perpetually pointing directly at me. And just like with most guys, Freddy's dick-shaft wasn't perfectly straight either. His dick had a slight upward curve to it. It looked quite intimidating, to say the least.
Freddy's fully erect penis seemed gigantic to me at the time! However, looking back on it, I now realize that Freddy's dick--which was about seven inches long--would still fall towards the top end of the range of what would be considered as an average-size erect penis for a man to have.
I just kept on alternating between squeezing Freddy's dick and playing with his balls. But as I became more and more comfortable with the whole situation, I automatically found myself spending more and more time fondling Freddy's balls, instead of squeezing his dick. I couldn't help the fact that--even with a few mild orgasms under my belt--Freddy's balls still excited me more than his dick did.
Freddy started deliberately thrusting two of his held-together fingers in and out of my vagina. He did it slowly at first, but then he kept on speeding up until he was finally shoving his fingers in and out of my baby-making hole so fast that the palm of his hand was slapping up against my mound on each inward thrust. Freddy didn't know it yet, but he had managed to "hit the mother lode."
You see, when it comes to sex and masturbation, I am definitely a G-spot kind of girl. In other words, my sexuality is--and has always been--primarily focused on the G-spot area inside my vagina, with my clitoris only playing a secondary supporting role. I can't help it. It's just the way that I'm built. And so consequently, unlike a lot of women out there, I don't tend to spend much time masturbating my clit. And that's mainly because, in sharp contrast to the mild-to-moderate orgasms that I normally experience while having my clit masturbated, my G-spot-induced orgasms tend to be strong and very satisfying orgasms. And during these strong orgasms, I have always been a real gusher. And that's what I meant when I said that Freddy had managed to "hit the mother lode."
While Freddy continued finger-fucking the crap out of me, I struggled to maintain my balance as my own orgasmic sensations rapidly overwhelmed me. It was a good thing that I was leaning up against the bathroom wall with my upper back, just like Freddy had requested. I took my hand off of Freddy's balls, grabbed hold of his dick, closed my eyes and braced myself for what I knew was inevitably going to happen. I knew that I was getting ready to have one of my strong, gushing G-spot orgasms.
As I hit my brick wall of a climax, I remember that I let out an involuntary, breathy gasp of "Oh, God!" I bit down hard on my lower lip and whimpered through my nose, and I began squirting multiple spurts of urine all over the palm of Freddy's thrusting hand, as the strong orgasmic sensations quickly overwhelmed me and temporarily whisked me away to another level of consciousness.
After that first strong G-spot orgasm subsided, I felt so embarrassed about my having just pissed all over Freddy's hand while I was letting him witness me orgasming my ass off--but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Besides, as Freddy kept on energetically finger-fucking my vagina, it didn't take me very long at all before I found myself on the brink of yet another strong orgasm.
I bit down on my lower lip again and whimpered through my nose while I tried my best to keep from screaming out, just like I had done during the last strong orgasm. But by the time that this second orgasm hit, my bladder was already empty, and so I didn't squirt. Instead, I gushed (ejaculated my ass off). I had to struggle just to keep my balance and stay on my feet while I felt my thick cum-juices gushing out of my pulsating pussy.
Of course, Freddy kept on relentlessly finger-fucking me hard and fast for I don't know how long. All I know is that Freddy's finger-fucking lasted long enough for me to experience at least one or two more very strong orgasms with their accompanying pussy-cum ejaculations (to be honest, I wasn't really keeping track of how many orgasms I was having, because I was way too busy enjoying "the ride"). And then all of the sudden, Freddy just quit finger-fucking me and pulled his cum-soaked fingers completely out of my sopping-wet vagina.
That's when I finally opened my eyes and looked at Freddy for a moment. And when I saw him look down at his own penis, I immediately realized that, due to the fact that I was too busy orgasming my ass off, I hadn't been playing with his dick (actively squeezing it and moving the loose outer skin all around), like he had wanted me to do. Instead, I had been firmly hanging onto Freddy's erect dick like it was some kind of handle, and I was actually using it to help me keep my balance during my strong orgasms while I was getting finger-fucked by Freddy.
I looked down at Freddy's huge blood-engorged "thing," and I could see that the very tip of his dick was wet with a transparent fluid that was obviously oozing out of his piss-hole slit. And that didn't alarm or shock me at all. At the time, I simply assumed that this transparent fluid was some of Freddy's urine.
So naturally, I began squeezing Freddy's dick again. But this time Freddy stopped me by grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling my hand away from his dick. He placed my hand directly onto my own pussy before he let go of my wrist and said, "Now open it up and show it to me."
At that moment I realized that Freddy hadn't actually seen what my pussy really looked like. So I reached down into my crotch with my other hand and placed one hand on each side of my mound. I dug my fingers into the front of my crack, inserting my fingertips between my two inner pussy lips, and I pulled the crack of my pussy wide apart, while also pulling upward on my fleshy outer labia at the same time. This automatically caused my long clitoris to prominently jut out at the very front of my crack, and I could see the small reddish-pink glistening head of it peeking out from under its hood. While holding my hands in that position, I tilted my pelvis back to let Freddy get a good look at my wide-open pussy.
But Freddy's response was not the one that I was expecting. It turned out that Freddy didn't really care about trying to get a good look at my now-wide-open pussy crack. Instead, he reached down and grabbed the shaft of his own dick. I was staring at his "gigantic" leaky dick as he quickly moved in very close to me. Then he bent his knees a little bit and buried the head of his fully erect penis into the front of my wide-open crack, as I watched the tip of his dick disappear down between my legs. I could hardly believe what I was witnessing with my own eyes.
Freddy guided his dick with his hand as he deliberately rubbed the head of it back and forth along the front part of my crack and against my clit. And it didn't take long at all for me to realize that the large, firm, velvety head of Freddy's dick felt wonderful inside the crack of my now-sopping-wet pussy. I guess that I instinctively sensed that an erect penis just felt RIGHT somehow. It felt like it BELONGED in the crack of my pussy.
Then Freddy inserted the freshly-lubricated head of his dick up into my vagina. He just left it there for a moment, and I felt his dick-head drastically pulsate one time. That surprised me, but it also made me giggle nervously in response to the strange sensation I was experiencing down between my legs.
I looked up at Freddy's face, and he wasn't smiling or laughing at all. Instead, he had this very serious, intense look on his face that I will never forget. I quickly stopped my giggling and looked down at our two touching genitals. And I focused on making sure that I kept holding my pussy-crack wide-open for Freddy's dick.
Once he had his dick-head up inside of my vagina, Freddy let go of his dick-shaft and placed his hands on my hips, one on each side. And he firmly held onto my pelvis. Then he began rocking his hips back and forth, very slowly at first, and then steadily speeding up.
Ironically, I didn't even know what "fucking" was. I was very naive and innocent for my age. Back in those days, there were no sex education classes in the elementary or junior high (middle) schools where I lived. So a young person was left to learn about sex on his or her own, from wherever he or she could find that information. Thanks to my strict Spanish Roman-Catholic upbringing--in conjunction with my two parents, who steadfastly refused to discuss things like "the birds and the bees" with me--I lived a very sheltered life, and therefore didn't have much access to that kind of information. And so, I honestly believed at the time that all Freddy was doing to me that Sunday afternoon in the bathroom was just rubbing his dick against my pussy.
You see, at that time in my life, I viewed my vagina as being simply another part of my pussy; just like my clitoris, my labia and my urethra were. I didn't really view my vagina as having any special significance in relation to the other parts of my pussy--other than the fact that it always made me cum real good whenever I stuck my fingers up inside of my vagina and moved them around during my late-night masturbations. Of course, it also felt great to me whenever I diddled my own clit or massaged my own piss-hole.
So, in other words, I knew that my little piss-hole was where my urine came out of whenever I peed, and that my butt-hole was where my poop came out of whenever I took a dump. But I truly had no idea what purpose that large, gaping hole at the very rear of my pussy (just in front of my butt-hole) was supposed to serve--other than for me to have to put up with it bleeding once a month. And even though I was always sticking my fingers up into that "special hole" of mine whenever I was masturbating, I had a hard time believing that my vagina only existed for the main purpose of making me cum real good, which was the only thing that I had used it for up until now.
There was also another reason why I thought that Freddy was just rubbing his dick against my pussy, and that was because he really WAS rubbing his dick against my pussy. Due to the fact that Freddy was much taller than me (as well as the fact that we were in a standing up, face-to-face position), even with his knees bent and my pelvis tilted forward, Freddy was still having a hard time getting his penis underneath my pussy. So although the head of Freddy's dick was entering my vagina, the shaft of his dick was almost parallel to the bathroom floor. This meant that the topside of his dick-shaft was pressed snugly along the crack of my pussy and firmly rubbing up against my clit the whole time that he was thrusting away at my vagina.
Of course, at this point, what Freddy was REALLY doing with his dick was performing a specific style of sexual intercourse that I would eventually (as an adult) end up referring to as "shallow-fucking." In other words, Freddy was repeatedly penetrating my vaginal entrance with his dick-head--and only with the HEAD of his dick--during each forward thrust of his hips.
At any rate, what Freddy was doing to my pussy with his dick sure felt awesome to me! And of course, I was more than willing to let Freddy keep rubbing his dick against my pussy for as long as he wanted to do it.
As Freddy's thrusting gradually got faster and faster, he reach around and grabbed hold of my butt cheeks with his hands. He pulled my whole pelvis towards his as he pressed his own hips forward towards mine. At some point, the head of his dick finally worked its way far enough inside me that it simply moved back and forth while remaining inside my vagina, instead of repeatedly penetrating my vaginal entrance. Freddy was now fucking me in the way that a guy would normally fuck a girl, except that we were both still standing up, face-to-face. And that wonderful protruding ridge that surrounded the rear of Freddy's dick-head (his corona) was being rubbed back and forth directly against the G-spot area inside my vagina. And that felt nothing less than incredible to me!
Freddy squeezed my butt over and over again while he was humping away at my young virgin vagina at a moderate pace. My hands were still in between our two pubic bones as I tried as best as I could to keep holding my pussy-crack wide-open for Freddy, but that was quickly turning into a losing battle.
Freddy all of the sudden shoved his dick even deeper into my vagina, without any warning. And naturally, that shocked and surprised me. I instantly reacted by taking in a very quick and loud gasp of air, and Freddy immediately began thrusting his piston-like dick in and out of my pussy like a madman. I was glad I was leaning back against the wall, because I had to struggle to keep my balance and stay on my feet. This super-energetic humping on Freddy's part only lasted for maybe 20 to 30 seconds or so, before he made one final very strong deep thrust, which actually lifted me up onto the balls of my feet.
Then Freddy kept his hips pressed forward as he simply held his penis very still inside of my vagina. My hands were squeezed flat in between our two tightly-pressed-together pubic bones, and I remember the feeling of having Freddy's coarse thick pubic hair against the back of my hands.
I heard Freddy let out that unique-sounding telltale "cum-grunt" that guys tend to make right before they start to ejaculate. Of course, at the time, I had never heard a guy's cum-grunt before, and therefore had absolutely no idea what it meant.
Then all of the sudden, it felt like the firm ballooned-out head of Freddy's dick literally exploded inside my vagina. I felt Freddy's dick begin to pulsate down between my legs. I had previously felt Freddy's dick throb a few times--both in my hand and against my pussy--but this particular "throbbing" of Freddy's penis was totally different from what I had experienced so far during our sexual encounter.
As Freddy's "thing" was rhythmically pulsating inside my abdomen, and repeatedly throbbing up against the walls of my vagina and along my crack at the same time, I could tell that his dick was doing something unusual and unique. It seemed like his penis had taken on a life of its own. And Freddy's pulsating dick felt incredibly erotic and sexy to me!
And of course, I could immediately feel the warmth and the drastically-increased wetness inside my already-sopping-wet pussy that was being caused by Freddy's sperm ejaculation, but I simply assumed that what Freddy was doing with his orgasmically-pulsating dick was urinating (in small spurts) inside my vagina. Keep in mind that I didn't know what "sperm" WAS at the time. So of course, I didn't realize that Freddy's dick was in the process of coating my totally-unprotected virgin birth-canal with his whole wad of semen.
Then it caught me totally off-guard--and, at the same time, pleasantly surprised me--when I began to spontaneously orgasm right along with Freddy while he was still "peeing" inside my vagina with his out-of-control dick. Mind you, this orgasm wasn't a strong earth-shaking mind-blowing gusher type of orgasm, like the ones that I had just experienced while Freddy was finger-fucking the crap out of me. Instead, even though my spontaneous orgasm was only moderately strong, it was nevertheless an unusually-satisfying orgasm.
By the way, although Freddy and I were both orgasming at the same time, the only "oohs" and "ahhs" were coming out of MY mouth--not HIS. Looking back on it all, Freddy was very stoic throughout his entire sperm-release. So in other words, he didn't outwardly behave as if he were even experiencing an orgasm--other than the fact that he was kneading my butt-cheeks with his hands, just like a cat does on a scratching post.
After Freddy's dick had finally stopped pulsating, we continued to stay coupled-up like that (with Freddy's dick much deeper inside of my vagina) for what felt to me like several minutes. My hands were still squished flat between our two pressed-together pubic bones throughout this whole time.
Meanwhile, Freddy kept kneading away at my butt-cheeks with his hands. I could also feel his fingers dart in and out of my "butt-cleavage" as he was copping quick feels of my ass-hole sphincter with his fingertips while he was busy kneading my butt cheeks. And normally that kind of thing would have really bothered me, but I was so mentally and emotionally preoccupied with reveling in my own unusually-long-lasting orgasmic afterglow, that I didn't even care what Freddy was doing to my ass with his hands and fingers.
Then Freddy finally let go of my butt cheeks and rested his hands back on the sides of my hips, and he slowly backed away from me just a little bit. This finally freed up my squished hands. I automatically reached back down into my crotch and pulled open my pussy-crack again for Freddy, so that he could continue rubbing his "thing" against mine. And that's exactly what he did.
He grabbed hold of his dick with his hand and began rubbing his dick-head back and forth along my crack, just like he had done when he had first stuck his dick in my crack. He was repeatedly squeezing his dick and moving the skin up and down the shaft of it while he was rubbing the head of it against my pussy.
Of course, I now realize that by doing this, Freddy was intentionally "milking out" any remaining semen that was still inside of his urethra directly into the sopping-wet crack of my freshly-fertilized pussy. We must have stayed in that position for at least another two or three minutes. Freddy didn't say a word to me the entire time as he just kept milking his dick. And of course, I couldn't take my eyes off his dick. And I noticed that Freddy's penis seemed to be getting softer and shrinking in his hand while he was milking it.
Freddy abruptly stepped back away from me and removed the head of his dick from my pussy altogether. He then took another small step back. At that point, he was still standing about a foot away from me, facing me with the back of his legs just in front of the toilet bowl. I couldn't help but keep staring at his dick and his sexy-looking balls. And I saw that his penis was no longer erect. It was soft and pliable and had shrunk all the way back down to about half the size that it was when Freddy had first exposed himself to me. Freddy's penis was also soaked with our combined sexual juices--and so was the stretched-out crotch material of my panties, which had managed to catch most of the "sexual drippings" from my pussy.
Freddy reached down and pulled his pants and underwear back up. He zipped up his pants, turned towards the bathroom doorway and sauntered away as if nothing special had just happened. I heard Freddy's footsteps as he walked out the front door of the small house and then closed the door behind him.
I just stood there for quite a while, still leaning back against the wall with my pants down and my legs still spread apart--and with my hands still holding my pussy-crack wide-open. My whole body was shaky and my legs were trembling as I was trying--but miserably failing--to make some sense out of what had just taken place. Looking back on everything, I'm sure that--on a deep-down, purely-instinctive level--my body sensed that Freddy had just finished mating with me, even though I didn't consciously know what "mating" was at the time.
Of course, I eventually managed to regain my composure enough to take my hands off my pussy, and pull my pants and panties back up. Then I ran out of the little backyard guest house and headed straight to my bedroom.
I threw myself down on my bed and I cried for a long time. I was dazed and confused. I was also scared about the ramifications of what Freddy and I had just done together. I knew that what we had just done together was very naughty. And I was worried that my family might find out what happened, and that I would no longer be considered a "nice girl." I just lay on my bed and cried my heart out for quite a long while.
Believe it or not, I wasn't really that upset about Freddy's having coerced me into having sex with him. But I was extremely upset--I felt very guilty and ashamed--about the fact that I had thoroughly enjoyed the sex itself (especially the "getting my pussy finger-fucked" part). I knew I had acted like a little whore. And that was a lot to handle for a twelve-year-old girl.
As I was lying in my bed and crying my heart out, I was also very worried that Freddy might try to have sex with me again. After all, he lived in the little guest house right behind my house. And I realized that if he tried to have sex with me again, I knew that I would definitely cooperate with him, just like I had done that very first time.
In fact, looking back on everything, I now realize that deep down inside, I was actually WANTING Freddy to come back and have sex with me again. You could say that I had taken a bite of the "forbidden fruit" (which in this case was Freddy's awesome-feeling penis being up inside of my vagina), and there was no turning back now. I would never again be the innocent young girl that I had been before Freddy "took me" and "had his way with me" in the bathroom that afternoon.
Freddy never did come back for seconds though, despite the fact that he was around me on daily basis for several months after our sexual encounter took place. Naturally, I tried my best to avoid him as much as possible. And as you can imagine, I felt very relieved when Freddy and his mother finally moved out into their own apartment. But the fact that Freddy never did come back for seconds didn't stop him from playing an integral part in my sexual fantasies--and in my life--for many years to come.
And, just in case you were wondering, it wasn't until AFTER I had finished crying on my bed that Sunday afternoon that I finally took off my wet gooey panties, rinsed them out under the bathroom faucet and threw them into the laundry hamper. Then I jumped into the shower to quickly wash off my equally-wet and gooey pussy, before getting dressed again. Of course, I was totally unaware of the fact that there were still millions and millions of Freddy's sperm cells actively swimming around inside my vagina, trying their best to work their way up through my uterus and into my fallopian tubes.
I went to bed that night, intending to get some much-needed sleep after such a stressful-but-exciting afternoon--but that didn't happen. Instead, I kept on waking up over and over again to play with myself (masturbate) throughout the entire night, and well into the morning hours. My sperm-coated vagina felt very strange to me, and yet it also felt wonderful at the same time. And God, I had never felt so horny in my entire life!
After that first "mega-masturbation night," I played with myself at least once or twice every night for a good week or so. I just couldn't help myself. I would wake up with my hand in my crotch, already diddling away on auto-pilot.
After that fateful Sunday afternoon--and after my week-long, late night "masturbation marathon" was finally over with--I tried my best to forget about what took place between Freddy and me. I just wanted to move on with my life, and keep my "dirty little secret" to myself, so that no one would ever know about the 15-to-20 minutes' worth of pure hardcore sex that took place between Freddy and me in that small bathroom.
However, throughout my middle school and teenage years, I would automatically end up having erotic dreams about Freddy from time to time, only to wake up late at night so that I could masturbate myself from one glorious orgasm to another, all the while fantasizing about various aspects of the taboo sexual encounter that had taken place between Freddy and me in the bathroom that Sunday afternoon. The bottom line was that, whether I liked it or not, my mental re-living of my sexual encounter with Freddy always made me cum real good during my late-night masturbations.
In my freshman year of high school I took my first-ever health class and finally learned the very basics about what "fucking" was, and about what "sperm" was, and about how a guy's sperm cells are designed to swim up through a woman's uterus and impregnate an egg cell that the woman releases into one of her fallopian tubes on a monthly basis. I have to admit that I was literally fascinated and intrigued by everything I learned in that health class about sperm cells and pregnancy.
Of course, all of this new sexual knowledge only served to make boys' balls turn me on even more than they already did. In fact, to this very day, I tend to view a guy's penis as primarily being a fancy delivery mechanism for his sperm. It goes without saying that a guy would naturally view his own penis as being much more important than that (because it serves as the focal point of his sexuality, as well as being the trigger mechanism for his orgasms). But as far as I'm concerned, a guy's balls are his TRUE sex organ, because that's where his precious sperm is manufactured and stored.
And, just in case you have figured it out yet, it's a guy's SPERM that really turns me on the most. After all, there's no other substance on the face of this planet that can get a woman pregnant. And there's nothing more erotic and exciting to me than taking a chance on the possibility of getting pregnant--which is exactly what we women do each and every time that we have sexual intercourse with a guy (during our pre-menopause years, that is)--because as far as I know, there is still no non-permanent birth control method that is 100% effective at preventing pregnancy. I mean, even perfectly good condoms can break from time to time.
And speaking of condoms, as you may have already guessed, I absolutely hate using condoms for birth control during intercourse, because a huge part the turn-on for me is feeling my lover's warm wet gooey sperm being ejaculated inside of me. In fact, it's the feeling of the ejaculating sperm that inevitably makes me spontaneously orgasm whenever my lover is actively fertilizing my vagina.
By the way, thanks to my health class in high school, I finally did manage to put two and two together to realize that Freddy actually fucked me and took my virginity that Sunday afternoon in the bathroom. Of course, this realization only served to turn me on even more whenever I would fantasize about Freddy.
During my late-night masturbations as a teenager, all I had to do was think about how easily my sopping-wet twelve-year-old virgin pussy had played host to Freddy's "gigantic" dark-skinned penis, and that would never fail to drastically increase my level of mental sexual excitement. And just thinking about the fact that I actually had a whole wad of Freddy's living, swimming sperm cells up inside of my fertile totally-unprotected womb for at least three to four days after Freddy fucked me...well,...all I can say is: That thought turned me on--and still does turn me on--so much that I can't even begin to put it into words!
And of course, to this day, I still have no idea whether I ovulated or not during those critical three to four days, while Freddy's sperm was swimming around inside my fallopian tubes. All I DO know is that I was a very lucky young girl, because Freddy didn't get me pregnant when he took my virginity in the bathroom that day. And, as I already said, Freddy also never did come back for a second helping of my "pussy pie" later on down the line, which of course would have only put me at an even higher risk of getting impregnated by him.
Despite the fact that I was merely cute-looking, and definitely not gorgeous, I went on to have a string of boyfriends throughout high school and during my first year at college. And I wasn't a "goody two-shoes" either. I did my fair share of French-kissing, body-groping and mutual masturbation. But outwardly, I always played the role of the "nice girl" who had a reputation to keep. I let every one of my boyfriends know up-front that I was a virgin, and that I wanted to avoid having sexual intercourse until I got married and let my groom fuck me on my wedding night.
However, the REAL truth was that, once I became sexually excited enough while making out in the back seat of a car, my rational mind would go right out the window to be quickly replaced by my living-in-the-moment state-of-mind, where it really didn't matter to me how "far" my boyfriends went with me. In fact, thanks to my adolescent sexual encounter with Freddy, I yearned to feel a guy's dick--and especially his sperm--in my pussy so bad that I could hardly stand it. Ironically, none of my boyfriends ever "took advantage of me" (had sexual intercourse with me) during a date--but it wasn't because I ever did anything to try to stop any of them from fucking me. Instead, it was simply because I always fell hard for the "really nice guys" (the ones that made you proud to take them home with you to meet your family). In other words, they were the kind of guys who don't date-rape their girlfriends in the back seat of a car.
I became a college sophomore in the fall of 1972. At the very beginning of the fall semester I met the love of my life. In this story I'll be calling him "Ray," which is not his real name. Ray was a freckled red-headed Scotch-Irish man who would become my husband many years later. Within a month, Ray and I started dating, and we quickly fell in love.
However, about a year or so into our relationship, my parents tried to stop me from dating Ray. They didn't like his long hair, and the fact that he played in a rock band. My mother especially didn't like the fact that Ray and I were getting very serious (he had already given me a promise ring, which I was proud to wear). And worst of all, from my mother's point-of-view, Ray wasn't Hispanic. The last thing my mother wanted was for me to be head-over-heels in love with a non-Hispanic guy, which is exactly what had ended up happening.
So I did the only thing logical thing that I could think of. I ran away from home. I snuck out of my house late that same night (the night that my mother told me that she was forbidding me from dating Ray ever again). I walked to Ray's house, which was a little over a mile and a half away from mine. I unexpectedly showed up on his doorstep at around 2 A.M., knocked on his front door and woke him up from a sound sleep. I asked if I could spend the night--and I never left. And that's how Ray and I ended up living together.
For several months, Ray continued to "honor my wishes" and avoid having sexual intercourse with me, despite the fact that we were sleeping in the same twin-size bed together and having sex at least four or five times a week. And although Ray's penis never actually penetrated my vagina during that time period, our lovemaking continued to get bolder and bolder, as Ray brought his dick into direct contact with my pussy more and more often. Of course, I was always more-than-happy to cooperate with him during sex.
Then one afternoon, after Ray had finally gotten so sexually frustrated that he just couldn't wait any longer, he went ahead and fucked me--which is exactly what I had been waiting for him to do ever since I had moved in with him. Of course, Ray assumed that he was taking my virginity that afternoon. And so I acted as if he had, even though I knew the REAL truth. By the way, Ray was wearing a condom when he fucked me that very first time.
From that day forward--and at MY insistence--Ray and I began having sexual intercourse as an integral part of our lovemaking. We naturally became more and more intimate with each other once we had begun fucking like rabbits. We talked about each other's private sexual fantasies, our earlier romantic relationships with other people, our sexual preferences, and various other sexually-related topics. We did this usually as a prelude to our lovemaking. During this period, Ray and I experimented freely during sex as we both tried new things. We also coached each other on how each of us could become better sex partners for the other person.
Through this extensive sexual coaching, Ray discovered that I had some very unique sexual tastes and desires. As Ray and I kept experimenting and coaching each other, our lovemaking quickly transformed into something that had little resemblance to what it had been when Ray and I first began having sex together. At one point, Ray admitted to me that my unique sexuality really baffled him. He couldn't believe that we both had so much in common when it came to our sexual preferences and desires--and for that matter, neither could I.
One day, Ray and I were lying naked in bed together in the late afternoon, talking and fondling each other's genitals like we always did during the earliest stages of our foreplay. We started talking about our ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends, and about how "far" (sexually) we had gone with each of them during out past relationships. And that's when Ray decided to share his own "dirty little secret" with me.
Ray's "dirty little secret" turned out to be that the first person he ever had sex with was another boy. Ray told me about how he had reached puberty at a very young age (he was only ten and a half), and about how he had to masturbate at least twice a day, just to keep his raging hormones in check. Then he went on to admit to me that he was nearly twelve years old when his close long-time friend, Chris, who was a year older than him, seduced Ray into having sex by offering to suck his dick. Ray also admitted to me that, after Chris had finished sucking his dick, he had ended up sucking Chris's dick too. Ray then described exactly how everything happened between him and his friend that evening.
I was intrigued and blown away by Ray's confession. Needless to say, I found it to be both exciting and erotic that my husband-to-be had actually jacked off and sucked another boy's dick. And I admired Ray for his having been completely honest and candid with me about his sexual past. I knew that I needed to do the same thing (to tell Ray all about Freddy). But I was scared that Ray would get angry and break up with me when I told him that I had been lying to him all along about my being a virgin when we first met.
Two more weeks went by as I continued to struggle with my own dilemma of not knowing when or how I should bring up the subject of "Freddy" to Ray. And then one day Ray and I were lying naked in bed together, talking and fondling each other's genitals just like we always did during foreplay. And that's when something came over me, and I decided that this was the right time to finally share my "dirty little secret" with Ray.
So I asked Ray point-blank how he would feel if he found out that I wasn't a virgin when we first met. And then I went on to eventually tell him all about Freddy.
And Ray just kept on asking me questions, and I kept on answering them as best as I could, until I was finally finished telling him my story about Freddy.
"So how do you feel about everything that I've just told you? Come on, be honest with me," I asked Ray.
And Ray told me that the whole thing turned him on a lot. And he said that if I would let him fuck me, he would prove to me just how much my telling him about Freddy had turned him on.
I was giggling away in anticipation as I spread my legs wide apart so that Ray could mount me in a missionary position. He eased the head of his rock-hard penis into my sopping-wet honey pot, all the way up to the hilt in one slow smooth thrust. And then he just left his dick in place, without moving it around at all. At Ray's suggestion, I had my eyes closed the whole time, and I was pretending that Ray's dick was Freddy's dick. And that was pretty easy for me to do, because as fate would have it, Ray's erect penis just happened to be about the same size as Freddy's was.
I felt Ray's dick throb one time, and I knew exactly what that single strong throb meant. I had seen it happen before, right in front of my own eyes. So I knew that a little thick white glob of Ray's sperm had just oozed out of his piss-hole slit and into my vagina. Actually, I was pretending that the sperm was Freddy's, instead of Ray's. And that taboo thought quickly took me right over the top mentally, and made me cum hard.
Within a few seconds Ray's dick started pulsating like crazy, and he began orgasming, right along with me. However, there was no passionate kissing or hugging or body-groping going on between us--only the pure raw sexual act of copulation that was taking place down between our legs. It was an incredibly erotic experience!
This experience also helped me realize that my confession to Ray about Freddy had been the right thing to do. In fact, I felt bad that I hadn't been honest with Ray much sooner in our relationship. Here I had been worrying all this time that Ray might get mad and break up with me if I told him about Freddy, only to discover that Ray gets really turned-on by the whole Freddy thing, just like I do.
Over the course of the next few weeks, every time that Ray and I made love, either he or I would bring up the subject of "Freddy" during our foreplay (and sometimes, we would also talk about "Chris" too). And of course, that would inevitably raise our level of mental sexual excitement, and it only made the sex that much more enjoyable for both of us. So sharing my "dirty little secret" with Ray turned out to be a very good thing indeed.
Even though I love my husband dearly, throughout my adult life I still found myself fantasizing about Freddy quite frequently, although I have to admit that I do it much less nowadays than I used to when I wOh my God! Freddy doesn't care about seeing my panties. He wants to see my pussy! And I just know he's not gonna let me leave unless I show him my pussy. So I guess I'd better just go ahead and get it over with...as a younger woman. But I find that I just can't help myself. I am who I am. And whether I like it or not, Freddy was--and will always be--the first guy who ever had sex with me. And he will always be that special guy who took my virginity when he fucked me and fertilized my pussy in the bathroom that Sunday afternoon.
Whenever I'm fondling my husband's balls during our foreplay, I'll sometimes just close my eyes and fantasize that I've got Freddy's sexy balls in my hand, and that thought will inevitably make my crack get wet really fast. And whenever Ray is fucking me, sometimes I'll close my eyes and pretend that it's Freddy's dark-skinned dick that I've got thrusting away at my baby-making hole, and that thought never ceases to make me orgasm strongly.
Looking back on everything, I can honestly say that without Freddy, I know I wouldn't be the person that I am today. For instance, before my experience with Freddy, I used to fantasize about the usual type of stuff that young girls tend to fantasize about. After my experience with Freddy, the only types of fantasies that really turned me on a lot were sexual assault/rape fantasies. And that's still the way that things are for me nowadays when it comes to my sexual fantasies.
The point I am trying to make here is that my single sexual encounter with Freddy in the bathroom that Sunday afternoon ended up drastically changing the very core of my sexuality, and it permanently altered my sexual desires and preferences to this very day. Thanks to my sexual experience with Freddy, I still prefer to wear very plain-looking solid-color cotton panties, and I'm not a big fan of having sex in the dark. And thanks to my sexual experience with Freddy, in order for sex with a partner to be satisfying for me, I find that I have to play a submissive and cooperative role throughout the sexual encounter. And of course, I also have Freddy to thank for the fact that I absolutely love getting my pussy energetically finger-fucked by my husband, Ray.
By the way, there is something extremely ironic about my sexual encounter with Freddy. You see, Freddy, never got married, and he is now paralyzed from the waist down, and has been that way for many many years (ever since he was in his late teens). I know that Freddy continued to live with his mother until she finally passed away a few years ago. And now he's finally living by himself in the family home (far away in a different state from where my husband and I live). And of course, the irony in all this is that it's quite possible that I may have been the only girl that Freddy ever got to fuck in his entire life.
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One final note:
This is the first story that I have ever posted to an X-rated adult website. I can only hope that you found it worth reading. I also need to mention here that I am forever indebted to my husband for his having helped me to edit my "Freddy story" and tweak it in such a way so that it will hopefully appeal to both men and women. Also, I would love to hear back from some of you women readers out there who were sexually molested in your younger years, and either never told anyone else about it, or kept it secret for a long time before finally telling someone else about it.
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