Why do girls fuck?
It was a question that seemed obvious when Paula and I first thought about it.
"Sure, we do cause it's fun!" she laughed. "I'd rather fuck than eat!"
But we talked about it and found out screwing isn't so obvious after all. There are thousands of reasons why girls spread their legs to a man, and out of curiosity Paula and I made a little list. We talked to some of the girls in school to get their opinions and you'd be surprised why virginity is a thing of the past. Naturally our list isn't complete but I thought you might like to see some of the reasons why a female exposes her cunt.
First of all we found out that a girl really thinks about fucking. All the time. No matter what else she does a girl is aware of her own sexuality. And if you opened her skull you'd find a million peckers dancing in there.
"I did it the first time because I wanted to find out what it'd feel like,"
Andrea Tate told us. "All my life I heard about screwing, and it's in the movies and the books and everything, so I just wanted to find out about it. Now I do it because I love it!"
Audrey Andrews does it because she loves her boy friend and he expects sex with her.
Temple Domer does it to spite her parents.
Phoebe Allen does it because she's fat and ugly, and fucking gives her a measure of popularity. Even handsome boys date Phoebe just to "dip their wick" as she calls it.
Sonia Bedowill screws because she likes the demolition derby. Anybody who'll take her, can have some pussy.
Thelma Rutmon fucks every time there is a big exam coming up. She trades pussy for good grades.
Shirley Peterson and Barbara Blader get gang fucked all the time, because they like to hitchhike around the valley. When some guys pick them up they know they have to pay with pussy.
Wanda Handrax let three boys fuck her a couple years ago, because they saw her steal candy from the market. They promised not to tell if they could all have a little sex.
Dolores Del Rio gives it to her stepfather so he'll pay the rent and they won't get kicked out of that old house.
Maijorie Turner screws a bunch of guys, because her gang roller-skates all the time and she doesn't want to be a party poop.
Mary Madman lets other females suck her cunt, because she doesn't like boys.
The list goes on and on, yet I've discovered one thing in common for all of us.
No matter what excuse we give for our first screw, or the reasons why we go right on doing it, the truth is we like to fuck!
"What else can we do?" Paula shrugged as we checked our findings. "Everything else is dumb, or isn't very important, and it always comes back to sex. I'd get bored as hell if we couldn't do it."
Me too.
So I took Paula with me to Susan Lovely's mansion, and she promised to give me half the two-hundred if she could take all that monster cock.
"I don't want you girls fucking things up!" Susan Lovely was angry when I brought a friend.
"I see horny little bitches like you at my clinic every day, and I don't want you to fuck around with my guests. You understand?"
She had a pretty face but her anger made her ugly, and I still got the impression she was unhappy in spite of all that money. Still she had to let Paula stay because very few girls would sit for the wicked bitch. She treated us like furniture anyway, or like the worms that were necessary in her lawn to keep the grass healthy.
This party was a repeat of the last one, so it seemed that Susan Lovely was in a rut. There were some different people this night, and some of the same ones as before, and everybody appeared to be having a good time. Lots of alcohol and food, loud music, dancing and swimming, till it reminded me of a picture I saw once in a book. The picture was a scene from hell.
"I'd sure like to have one of those gowns," Paula told me as we watched the socialites.
"Yeah, they must cost plenty all right."
"Wouldn't it be swell to be rich, Angie?"
"You damn right. One of these days I'm gonna have all that money, too."
"How you gonna do that?"
"Open a whorehouse."
"Aw, you wouldn't, really!"
"Like hell I wouldn't. You think I wanna go through life pinching pennies the way my folks do? Not on your life! I don't care what I have to do, one of these days I'm gonna have plenty."
"Money won't make you happy, Angie."
"That's what they say. But I don't see too many people laughing when they're hungry, either."
"Yeah, I guess that's true."
"Sure it's true. How many people do we know that got divorced because they were broke? All that love and roses goes sour real quick when the bills pile up. Yet look at Susan Lovely and her husband over there by the pool having a gay old time. They hate each other's guts but they can still have fun together. If you have enough money you can buy a lot of smiles."
"You really gonna sell yourself, Angie?"
"Sure hope I can, Paula. I got the idea when that banker paid me. The one who's gonna fuck you tonight."
"Maybe he won't want to do it to me?"
"Sure he will. Older men love young stuff. They'll pay plenty. That's what I'm counting on, really. To get a nice bank account while I have something of value. Criminey, every housewife in the country thinks she could make a million bucks if she turned professional. But you know what, Paula?"
"What?"
"There ain't a housewife in the world could get more than about twenty bucks for it. So all that talk about purity and keeping yourself for one man is a lot of bull. When a woman ain't worth more than twenty bucks for everything she's got, no wonder they have to take all that crap from a husband."
"You sound cynical, Angie."
"Maybe so. But I'm saying the truth. How many men do you think are true to their wives? I mean, true for their whole lives?"
"None at all, I guess."
"Well, there must be a few of them around somewhere. But even those guys dream of strange pussy. And they get all worked up if they see a girl bend over, or catch a glimpse of a bare tit in the movies."
"That's just natural, Angie."
"Sure it is. And it's natural for people to want strange sex. Everybody needs a change. That's what I'm banking on."
"You really are gonna be a professional?"
"Maybe. I'd sure like to. You know how much I like to screw. But there's more to it than that. Lots of women would sell their pussy if they could get rich.
It ain't that easy. Lots of husbands would help their wives to sell it if it would give 'em a big bank account, too. Once you've lost your cherry, what's the difference? You can't wear it out."
"How you gonna do it, Angie? How you gonna make money with your body?"
"Damned if I know, Paula. Guess I'll just have to feel my way along. There's so much free stuff any more a guy has to be crazy to pay for it."
"Yeah, I know. Most of the girls in school would be eager to screw for that banker you told me about. And he wouldn't have to pay very much, either."
"That's him over there. Pouring another drink."
Alfred DeMarco wasn't such a bad-looking man after all, because he had a distinguished air about him as I watched the way he moved around. And when I imagined the huge cock he had in his pants I was sorry Paula came along. Maybe I wouldn't be able to take all that cock, yet it would sure be fun to try again! There was something fascinating, something terrifying, about a giant prick. Sex and death were so intertwined in my mind at that time, like pain and birth, that I wanted Alfred to make me scream with sexual agony. I didn't realize it then but now I understand that a woman needs pain. Even the soaring glory of an orgasm s the echo of female torment.
We didn't get Alfred DeMarco alone until almost eleven o'clock, and then he didn't want Paula.
"I offered to pay you, Angie," he said. "I could give the money to the girls at the bank if sex was that important. I really like you."
"Paula's the same age as me, Mr. DeMarco. You said you wanted somebody young."
"Yes, that's true. But you satisfied my curiosity. And there are any number of women, mature women, who have more beauty than an undeveloped teenager."
"Hey, I'm developed!" Paula was angry. "I got titties almost as big as Angie!"
"I wasn't referring to physical attributes, young lady. Certainly a young girl has a natural beauty that is quite incomparable. Still there are other qualities that tempt a man."
"You mean a grown woman is sexier than a young girl?" Paula frowned.
"In the long run that is certainly true," Alfred told her. "A woman develops charisma with years until she is able to satisfy a man on equal terms. There's a lot more to love than flesh and bones."
"We ain't talking about love," I reminded Alfred. "I just thought you might like to try my friend."
"Perhaps I would, Angie. Yet I would much prefer you. Any man would like to make love to you."
I was flattered but it still made me mad when Alfred wouldn't give any sex to Paula. Under different circumstances that old banker would get a hard-on just looking at her sweet beauty. The alcohol must have mellowed his glands enough to relax him just then, so I took advantage of visual aids.
"Don't you think this looks nice?" I said as I lifted Paula's skirt to expose her pink panties.
"Oh, don't do that, Angie!" Paula yanked her skirt down again, and she was embarrassed.
Alfred DeMarco set his drink on a table, while his face got flushed.
"Perhaps I was hasty." His voice was husky. "Paula is a very pretty girl."
He was hooked and I knew it. Once a man gets a bone-on he forgets about lots of things. Once his mind gets focused on pussy, he forgets the pale arguments of sanity.
"You can fuck her," I tempted as Alfred stared at her lush young' body. "We came here so you could fuck her, Alfred."
He didn't even know I was standing there and he didn't even hear my voice.
After visions of her tender thighs, the soft under things, were dancing in his brain until the effect was interpreted in his loins. I could see the massive prick swell in his trousers while his face got all blotchy with passion.
"I'll pay you good, honey," he panted. "I'll give you fifty bucks if you want."
"Two hundred," I reminded.
"Yes. Oh yes. That's fair. Whatever you want. Ooohh, you're such a pretty girl!
What'd you say your name is?"
Alfred could hardly walk as I took the two of them upstairs to one of the many bedrooms. His cock was so big it was like walking on three legs, and Paula kept giving me nervous little smiles.
"Please don't come in, Angie!" she begged when I started into the bedroom with them.
"But I wanted to watch, Paula! It was my idea after all, and I wanted to watch!"
"Please!"
She was frightened, like a girl with a boy's hand in her crotch for the first time, so I left them alone. It wasn't easy because I had visions of that beautiful abnormal cock. All swollen and deadly. Ready to penetrate her body.
It got me so hot and bothered I went back down to sneak a cocktail. Nobody paid much attention to me since there were so many guests at the house. I got the drink Alfred DeMarco left on the table, and it tasted good. Cool and tangy, with a taste of mint. It wasn't the first time I tasted alcohol and I expected there would be plenty of the good stuff in my future.
After I drank the cocktail I went upstairs to check the children and they were sleeping peacefully, then I tiptoed past the bedroom where Paula was getting done. Silence.
Alfred must be kissing her breasts, I figured, or toying with her juicy young cunt. He would do that now that he had a youngster alone in the bedroom, where he could take all the time he wanted to enjoy the sweet luxury of- her youthful body.
Lucky Paula!
I needed sex too.
But Susan Lovely told me not to fuck around with her guests. She was bitch enough to kick me out of the house if she caught me, so I had to be careful. I found another drink on a vase-stand, only this one was sour. Still it went down easy and I was feeling good, so I walked right out to the pool area. Maybe they thought I was a servant or something because even out here among the party nobody paid attention to me. I got another drink from a tray and sat down to watch the merrymakers. They were really having fun, laughing and dancing and carrying on like there wasn't a care in the world. I envied them for sure, and hoped my plans for the future really would include riches. It would be hell to get stuck in a crummy little house without cash enough to pay the bills. The mere thought terrified me. Life would be so much brighter, and filled with laughter, if a girl had money I paid close attention to a woman I recognized. Her photo was in the papers often and her name was told with a sort of awe around town. Cora Truffinger. A powerfully rich old dowager. Homely as a mud fence. Wrinkled. Worn out. Still the guests kowtowed to the old bag. They hung around her like maggots on a dead carcass, screeching with laughter every time she uttered a word.
Power.
Money.
When you were rich, it didn't matter if your body was dried as a prune. You were still somebody. And I vowed again to do whatever I had to do for cash.
It was then I learned another thing about sex, too. One of the guests was a very fat female, so bulky that her tits were like udders on a cow. Still she had sex appeal. To some of the men at the party. Just because she had a cunt they had never seen before, ugly or not, they were caught by her sexual exhibition. The woman was stripping at the pool, ready to dive or jump into the water. When she got down to her underwear I almost puked. Her buttocks were so huge they hung out of her ridiculously small black bikini panties and when she bent over to take off her shoes I could see her cunt hairs. The panties had slipped right into the liver lips of her huge twat and that gaping hole looked big enough to drive a truck in. It made me sick but some of the men got all excited.
"Man, look a' that pussy!"
"Wheow, ain't that purty"
"Shit, I think I'll fuck it!"
One of them did. He flopped out his cock and walked over to the fat matron, stuck his cock between the cheeks of her ass and started fucking her right there at the edge of the pool.
"Eeeeeeee, that tickles!" the fatso giggled.
I guess it did, because her cunt was so big the guy could have put his arm in there. Still she got screwed. She was better off than me.
All I got was hard up.
I tried to strike up a conversation with a guy who was standing next to me, then I saw Susan Lovely throw me a dagger look from across the pool, so I got the hell away from her friends. If she caught me now, and caught Paula upstairs there would be hell to pay.
I went back up the stairs. Maybe I could peek in to see what Alfred DeMarco was doing with my friend.
You could hear them clear down in the foyer.
Even before I ran up the steps. I could hear Paula and that banker in the bedroom.
There should have been shrieks of joy, happy little sounds that women make when they're having fun.
All I could hear was screaming.
Paula was busting her tonsils with excruciating screams, and I could imagine what was happening to her young cunt.