Dear Journal

Dear Journal:

Hi.

First entry is always the hardest, especially since I hate the ideas of diary-things, but whatever. About myself…well, I’m a girl. Technically speaking anyways. My birth certificate and basic math skills would point out that I am 16 years old with some months thrown in just to fuck with an even number. Got that blue eye, blond hair thing going on and I have a slight obsession with all things Australian, mainly because the guy of my DREAMS lives there! Anybody would be obsessed with the country a guy with a hot 8 pack and 17 inch biceps lived in, just saying.

To take care of the whole virgin issue, my hymen is clearly visible. If you don’t know what a hymen is, Google works wonders. That, and sex ed classes! Gronks…

I’m a virgin, yeah, but I love to masturbate. No interest in sex, though. Tons of interest in grammar and punctuation, but absolutely none in sex. It sort of goes with my medical conditions: I have a thyroid condition which makes all my hormones go wonky and I have bipolar disorder. Lack of sex interest and lack of period are part of both conditions so the fact that both are sort of caused by my absolute LOVE of having my clit teased is easily explained.

The only things that really get me off nowadays are sex stories. Always. I can’t get enough of them. I’m seriously thinking that I have a slight addiction sometimes, but every time I think that, I realize that I don’t care. What person would find a problem with a 16-year-old girl masturbating to a sex story on the internet? Absolutely no one.

Most of the stories I read are incest; I just love the taboo of it. I can’t ever participate in incest since I’m adopted, but there’s nothing better than yelling out to daddy that you’re coming all over his cock! Add my love for incestuous stories and my love for writing, and you’ll see that it wasn’t long before I started writing erotica. For the past year or so I’ve been writing erotic stories under a false name and age, and surprisingly, I’ve been getting pretty good reviews! Not to mention that my ratings are descent, my average percentage just a little higher than 70%. For a virgin, that’s pretty damn good!

Obviously, it’s illegal for me to be on the sex site, but I keep under the raider fairly well. I just want to write and get some feedback on my work. Of course, I did let it slip a few times that I was really underage, but it just seemed to drive the men I told wild! It just made their cocks harder than ever. The amount of joy they got when I cooed the word “daddy” into their ear was a complete turn-on; it was when I started sexting, cybering, and audio chat that I learned about how much I loved to hear people moan. Of course, to hear their moans, I had to moan myself.

Well, that’s not all true. I learned that I only had to do that with guys. With girls, I can take over the entire situation and listen to them moan without me having to make a single sound for them.

My first kiss was my best friend, Erica. We had been friends since middle school, keeping our bond strong through social networks on the web and founded on the principals of Harry Potter.

Her black hair was long, her breasts and ass extremely large for a white girl, and she wore glasses or else she would be legally blind. All in all, not a catch, nor was she my type, but I was comfortable with her and I knew she hated penis. Actually, she still does.

Anyways, I was spending the night at Erica’s one Friday night in March. She and I were sharing a bed like we always had, laying next to each other as we watched her tiny television screen. She had been planting kisses on my cheek and forehead all night—for what reason, I do not remember, but I’m not complaining!—and with each kiss, I imagined her lips landing on my own. The soft smack of her lips, a thing she did to add to the drama of her fake affection, oddly enough struck a note with the depths of my pussy.

With her cuddled next to my body and her smacking lips kissing my cheek, it wasn’t long before my pussy was wet. I made some smart-ass comment that I knew would get her to show me some of her fake affection. When she turned her head to plant the over-acted kiss, I turned my head: now my lips were in the exact same spot she had kissed multiple times before that night.

I don’t know if she realized that I had turned my head, but Erica ended up pecking my mouth with some force. It made me think of how chubby my face was in the cheeks, but I stopped thinking about my puffy cheeks while we were staring at each other.

She was in shock, I was in shock; we were both just staring at each other for a few, bland seconds before our mouths melted against each other once more. I hate to say it, but she was shit at kissing. Granted, she was better at French kissing, she was absolutely horribly at the whole thing. Ok, maybe it wasn’t absolutely horrible, but it was pretty bad. She even thought she was bad.

We didn’t realize the shows change, or the hour getting later because we mostly had our eyes closed, our tongues dancing in each other’s mouths while my fingers pulled at her hair.

As my pulls progressed, her small gasps of air turned into squeaks. Yes, you read correctly, my friend squeaked instead of moaned. As any true friend would do, I laughed in her face and pulled her hair as hard as I could.

While I pulled her hair, laughing at her squeaks, I climbed on top of her. As I straddled her waist, I began to suck and lick on the flesh of her neck, her hand grabbing into my hair. It was obvious that her body was writhing for my traveling tongue; I knew that her squeals were begging me to go farther down her neck and into her shirt.

Whether her squeaks begged me on or I begged the noises to urge me on, I let my mouth glide down to her large breasts. I knew by now that she liked pain, so I let my teeth sink into her soft flesh, my tongue licking around the angry red dents I had just pressed into her skin.

I got lost track in time as I continued to suck her boob, my hand pulling on her hair as my other was used to keep me from laying on her. We would switch off positions, but I whined about my ribs hurting so that I could be on top again; Erica didn’t mind that she had to be on the bottom.

Once more, I was on top of her and sucking on the mounds of skin on her chest. I knew that I was close to her hard nipple, but my sadistic side took over and pulled me away. Erica whimpered at me. “You’re a bitch,” she had said right before she yawned ferociously at me.

The clock next to her television was saying that it was almost a quarter to 3 in the morning. I had to stop and think back to the last time I saw the clock and figured out that we had been making out and teasing each other for two and a half hours. We turned off the T.V. and closed our eyes, our backs turned to the other.

I never asked her what she thought about before she drifted to sleep. I didn’t want to ask her. All I knew when I woke up was that I was tired and that I had had an orgasm during the night. We didn’t speak of the incident until a few months later, just days before I got my first boyfriend. I’ll tell you about him next entry…

Until then,
Anna