A slut is born

Every inch of Mark knew what the only appropriate response to that question was, as the naked girl slid herself past them, tying her hair up, with a condom in her teeth. Every instinct in his blood, every whisper in his head, every god damn male role model in any movie he’d seen. All of them demanded that he bend that cruelly beautiful creature over, right this very instant, and throw himself into her.

But… she wasn’t just some Hollywood starlet, playing a stripper on the silver screen. She wasn't a cheekily smiling pornstar or an all-about-business hooker propositioning him in the street. She was Stacy! One of his precious few allies in all the world. One of the only two people he truly believed would have his back no matter what… was it truly alright to just take so much more from her?

“Stace… Are you sure about this? Are you sure we aren't all going a bit too… fast? Last week you were upset when we even...”

The girl spun round upon him like a skin-coloured flash of returning fury. In an instant she was pressed right up against his chest, her exposed form pinned to him while one accusing finger was prodded against his throat. Yet her voice was calm. Precise. Almost medical in her evaluation of their relationship.

“Stop that! Just stop it! I’m a girl that has fully admitted to you I get turned on by you jizzing all over me, again and again. I’m a girl who has already swallowed two loads of cum from you, in public and right under your fucking mom’s nose. I’m a girl who you’ve watched masturbate. Who has been perfectly happy to let you slide fingers inside her for hours on bloody end. I’m a fucking slut, Mark, and it's only thanks to you guys that I’ve been able to work that out! It's not an insult or a phase or a sign I’ve started losing my little mind. It's just who I am! After years of being told I’m a frigid bitch or a crazy dyke or even worse: daddy's perfect little grade A student!”

That finger still waved threateningly in front of his nose, but her other hand had unbuttoned his pants and worked its way into his boxers. She grabbed hold of what was waiting for her there and began groping and massaging it.

“I. Love. This. I love playing with your cocks. I love sucking on them and tugging on them and watching them rise up to meet me every time I say hello. I love throwing my clothes off in the sunshine, and running through town without any underwear, and all the dirty looks you both give me when I bend over and stretch. I love the idea that you go home at night still thinking about my cum-splattered body and play with yourselves some more! I want to be the place where you can happily pour out every twisted, horny fantasy you can think of and I cannot wait until you stuff this stupid fucking thing inside of me!”

Stacy glared straight up into Mark’s eyes and threw his pants down to the floor. At last he finally got it. He grabbed hold of her and kissed her long, hard and deep, bowling her over backwards. They stumbled back one, two, three steps, then tumbled to the floor, fortunately onto one of the various forgotten blankets. Mark threw off his shirt and was on top of her, pinning Stacy to the ground. She opened her legs wide for him and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down to continue kissing. Down below she could feel them aligning, the boy’s erection lining up with the groove at her center. That rigid shaft met wet and waiting folds and began ingratiating itself among them, rubbed shards of lightning straight into her spine. She was ready and eager, bucking her hips up to prove the point, kissing those lips up to him as she would with any others. They both could feel the hunger for this in the very fibres of each other's body. Stacy’s pink gates were gushing fluids, coating the ram that knocked against them. Mark’s shaft slipped and slid upon that doorstep, the head brushing and brushing and catching against a certain hollow, widening down below. He felt a quick tap on his shoulder though, Pete was holding out the condom which Stacy had dropped, watching their progression towards a goal from the sidelines. The girl grabbed that boy by the collar, pulling him in for a snog of his own while the friend between her legs worked out which end was which of the rolled up rubber disk. They were truly all in this together, for better or worse, a team of teenage debauchery.

Mark managed to slide into his protective covering. He lined himself up with her entrance. The self-declared slut broke off from her kiss, but kept an arm around Peter, holding him close. She gazed up at the boy about to claim her virginity with nothing but determined desire. He pushed up to her, and against her… and into her.