I was never the brightest candle in the box. In today’s world, I would be diagnosed with some sort of ism, but in the 1950s, there were no such understandings. I was just considered to be dim and stupid. So, teachers did not bother with me, as in their ‘supportive’ words of the time, 'you will never amount to anything'. In addition, I was shunned by the other girls in school who did not want to associate with a simpleton. To compound this, I was plain and unattractive and a turnoff for boys. So, even at eighteen, I was on my own.

My situation changed when Peter, one of the boys in my class, began giving me attention. At first, he just made some cute comments and engaged in small talk with me, but by the second day, we were chatting like long-lost friends. Finally, he held my hand as we walked home from school that day.

I was obviously surprised and flattered to suddenly be the centre of Peter’s attention. However, although slow on the uptake, I was not naive. I straightaway understood the reasons for this unexpected interest. Like all lust-filled lads of his age, Peter was desperate to score with a girl and frustrated that none would put out for him. At that time, girls were required to remain pure until they married; having a boyfriend was permissible, but sexual intimacy was an absolute no-no.

Peter twigged that, as a loner, I might be an easier mark. One who might more readily succumb to his charms and let him inside her knickers. Once I sussed this out, as a properly brought-up girl, I should have given him short shrift. However, I was just happy to have some company and attention, so I decided to play along with him. This is, in fact, a significant understatement. I was so desperate for friendship and affection that I knew from the get-go that I would give him what he wanted.

Peter and I met at lunchtime on the third day and sneaked away into a thicket near the school. Once in the middle and well hidden, Mother Nature kicked in, and we began petting like it was the most normal thing for us. I went into a sensual daze as I cuddled and snogged with Peter. I was then taken to further delight as his wandering hands slid up inside my blouse and onto my breasts. Sadly, while the intent was there, my bra was a complete mystery. He had no idea how to undo it, so he settled for clasping and massaging the cups. This was enough to get my boobs tingling and me sighing with joy, which excited Peter no end.

I was so fixated on the captivating sensations coming from my boobs that I did not notice Peter remove his right hand and slip it under my skirt. I only sensed its presence when his fingers slid off the top of my sock and onto my bare thigh. I did not flinch. Instead, I now savoured the new thrill of his fingers working their way towards their goal. I sighed as they first touched my knickers and again as they moved into my crotch. My pussy lips quivered, and I meowed with delight as his fingers ran over them. Peter’s fingers became highly agitated, and his breathing became ragged when he realised how close he was to his target; only the cloth of my panties was in his way.

Peter quickly moved to rectify this. His fingers worked their way back until they found the leg elastic and then slid underneath it. I could hardly contain myself as they now moved towards my already excited pussy lips. Sadly, just as his finger first touched lip, we heard the school bell ringing. That immediately broke the spell. We could not afford to be late, so we quickly separated, tidied up, and headed back to school by separate routes. Luck was with us, for there were queues of girls and boys at the appropriate doors waiting to get in, so we joined them, leaving no one any the wiser.

I thoroughly enjoyed this first liaison with Peter, but in the rush at the end, I failed to appreciate just how much. Only when I went to the loo after the first afternoon class did I see a distinct damp spot on the gusset of my knickers and beads of moisture in the fuzz around my pussy lips. Ever the innocent, I had no idea this could happen when my fud became excited. For, in keeping with the strict ethos of the day, I had been taught next to nothing about my body and its functions, except for a vague talk about periods that was impossible to avoid.

My head was in a spin. While I was pleased to discover about my pussy’s responsiveness, which I guessed put me a big step in knowledge ahead of my bullying classmates, I was also frustrated that the action had been cut short; for if this was the result of anticipation, just what would have happened had we gone all the way?

I did not have to wait long to find out. Peter was also frustrated and passed me a note later in the day.

‘Meet me amongst the bushes, after the last class. We should continue our lesson in practical biology.’

I must admit the afternoon seemed to drag out forever, but eventually the bell signalled the end of the day. I waited in the girls’ restroom until everyone had gone, and only then discreetly made my way to the coppice. My heart fluttered when I found Peter waiting for me.

Peter did not dawdle. Right away, he took me in his arms, and we slipped into a deep snog. Soon, we were sitting on the ground, and he was unbuttoning my blouse. All was going well, as he pulled my blouse off and began kissing my chest, but once again, my bra stymied him. However, this time I was ready. I reached around, unhooked the bra’s back strap and slid out of it. Peter was immediately transfixed; his eyes were out on stalks as he ogled my small but pert boobs. I sighed as he cupped them in his quivering hands, and I was cooing with delight as his fingers worked their magic. He soon latched onto and began suckling each nipple in turn. I was purring with delight as enchanting sensations surged through my breasts in response to every powerful pull of his lips on my nipples.

I next felt Peter’s hand touch my leg and begin to move inside my skirt. He looked extremely disappointed when I stopped him, but then smiled with glee when I took my knickers off; we both knew where this was going, so there was no need to impede the process. As soon as I lay back on the ground, I folded my skirt back over my belly. Peter’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he got his first view of my fuzzy beaver. In a flash, his quivering fingers were on my mound and working their way down to my eager pussy lips. They became hot and excited with this attention, even more so when, by chance, his fingers uncovered and caressed a particularly sensitive button. Although this was our first time, we both immediately understood the thrilling message coming from my fud: ‘I am ready.’

I now watched in awe as Peter took down his trousers and drawers and revealed his penis. Oh, my goodness, he was well-endowed, if you know what I mean. He peacocked with glee when I gasped loudly and said, “Oh, what a monster. I do not know if I can cope with that.”

Nevertheless, my already moist pussy lips trembled with expectation as the tip of Peter’s cock nuzzled them, and I gasped with delight as its head forced its way between them and then proceeded to plough into my vagina. I moaned steadily as my frantic fud squirmed around Peter’s throbbing shaft in a desperate effort to accommodate the invader.

Peter’s balls kissing my inner thighs triggered a fantastic reaction. Now that my fanny was fully skewered by his throbbing cock, it now firmly clasped and formed a tight sheath around the shaft. This move was a mystery at the time. But, I later figured out that it was Mother Nature’s way of ensuring Peter’s penis was trapped until it completed its reproductive duty. Entrancing sensations began radiating from my fud as it now relished every twitch, pulse and ripple of Peter's shlong. These sweet feelings went through the roof once it started lighting up my fud’s sweet spots as it ploughed back and forth inside me.

Suddenly, Peter unleashed two quick-fire full-length thrusts. As the second reached the depths of my pussy, Peter howled as his cock went berserk and spasmed like mad. I screamed and groaned as my twat to all intents turned to jelly. Despite this, I could still sense a building hot spot in the depths of my fud where Peter’s semen was gathering. I was shocked to find that this region was reacting with absolute joy to this pool of little swimmers. Was this one of Mother Nature’s special rewards for getting this far in the female imperative? I'm not sure, but it certainly contributed to my sense of well-being.

I was ecstatic as my now used-for-purpose pussy continued to send out waves of pleasurable sensations. According to the dogma, I should have been ashamed to have lost my virginity, but I was not. In fact, I felt on top of the world. I believed that my loss of innocence was a price worth paying to no longer be alone and have Peter as my friend.

Obviously, I was naive and looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses. My sense of well-being quickly disappeared when Peter, still grinning like a Cheshire cat, got up, redressed, and then headed off without saying a single word. My heart sank, and I began to cry, for I knew that I had just fallen for the oldest male trick in the book. I had put out to Peter to prove my friendship, but now that he had scored, I was of no more interest. What made me feel even worse was knowing it was my own fault. I had cast aside any reservations and willingly participated in his game in the silly belief that we would be a long-term couple. I realised I was not the first, nor likely to be the last, gullible girl to end up being no more than a number on a boy’s sexual scorecard, but that did not help; it was a bitter lesson in the pitfalls of being female.

I was therefore dejected and angry when I finally got up, redressed, and set off home. Soon, I began to experience another unsettling result of intercourse; the generous deposit left in my fanny began succumbing to gravity. Fortunately, my school knickers soaked up the leakage that occurred on my way home. Once there, I put on a sanitary belt and towel; a horrible but necessary contraption for use during periods, but one that would also absorb Peter’s generous fluid legacy. I had several unnerving gush moments during the evening, but thankfully, the pad did its job.

Mum spotted me changing the pad before going to bed. “Has your period come early this month?"

I just nodded and told a white lie. “It has, but I have caught it in time.”

After all, I could hardly tell my Puritan Mum the real reasons.

I was unable to get to sleep because the afternoon’s events played out in a continuous loop in my head; from the sheer joy of intercourse to the despair of realising I was just the first gold star on Peter’s sexual scorecard. I was in turmoil for my pussy was not the only thing to lose its innocence that day. My self-esteem and self-confidence were also shattered. Intercourse with Peter was natural and straightforward, but the callous way in which he discarded me like an old ragdoll once he had taken his pleasure taught me so much about the place of girls in a male-dominated world. I eventually fell asleep, still in utter confusion, except for the clear resolution never to see Peter again.

I was still in a daze when I got up the following morning, washed, and got dressed for school. I kept the sanitary belt on and fitted a fresh pad. Although there were no signs of residual outflow, I wanted to ensure that Mum did not become suspicious. Indeed, as I was about to head off to school, Mum put four fresh pads in my bag.

“Just in case it is a heavy one, dear.”

Having to cope with the bulky pad inside my knickers was only one of the challenges I had to deal with that day. On several occasions, I saw groups of girls chatting excitedly together while pointing in my direction. The situation was the same with the boys' gatherings, except that Peter’s classmates were giving him a hard time. I soon twigged that, boys being boys, Peter had blabbed and boasted to his mates that he had screwed me. This assertion was fodder for the rumour mill, and of course, no one believed a word.         

I was therefore shocked when Peter came to talk to me at lunchtime.

“I am sorry I dashed off last night; can we meet again after school so that I can make it up to you?"

Under the gaze of Peter’s withering blue eyes, my overnight resolve melted away. Green as ever, I decided I had been wrong about him and immediately reverted to my desperate simpering best, eager to have him as my friend and lover.

 My voice quivered as I said, “Okay, let us continue with what we started yesterday.”  

The remainder of the school day seemed to drag out forever, but eventually the final bell rang. First, I went to the bathroom and removed the sanitary belt and pad because I didn't want to gross Peter out, and then I headed out to meet him. My heart skipped a beat when I spotted him at our place amongst the bushes. We began making out straightaway and calling on his recently acquired knowledge and skills, he soon had me undressed, hot and bothered, and almost begging for cock. Still, I gasped when he penetrated me and moaned along to the rhythm of his steady thrusts as he screwed my pussy into a frenzy.

This time, Peter was in complete control of his cock, so he was able to ride me nonstop for about five minutes, until I was close to the point of thinking I could take no more. But then, he took me to a whole new breathtaking level with a set of fast, powerful thrusts. I knew that his eager dick was now close to the point of no return, but I was still unprepared for the explosion that followed. I screamed and shrieked as his schlong spasmed wildly and shot a massive load into the depths of my ravished fanny. Again, it reacted with sheer joy to the pool of eager swimmers now gathered near my cervix.

Sadly, this was the height of my pleasure, because, as on the previous day, Peter now got up, tidied himself down, and walked away without saying a word. My heart sank, and I cursed myself for being so stupid as to have again succumbed to his devilish spell. However, this disgust paled into insignificance as I was then gripped in absolute horror. Hidden amongst the surrounding bushes, I spotted all the other lads from my class, as well as at least three of the girls. They were obviously there to witness our carnal performance, so that there could be no further arguments over Peter’s claims. I felt sick to my stomach when I realised what they had just seen; I certainly now had few female secrets left. How cold-hearted was Peter that he could treat me that way?

I remained on the ground and did not move until I was sure that the whole audience had moved away. Then, although shaking, I managed to struggle to my feet and began redressing. I was sufficiently compos mentis to remember about the backflow of Peter’s fluids. So, I took out the sanitary belt and a fresh pad from my schoolbag and put them on before covering them with my navy-blue school knickers.     

I made my way home, albeit slowly and unsteadily. Fortunately, my journey went okay, other than a couple of unsettling occasions when cum seeped out with no warning. Thankfully, the pad did its job.

The conversation over dinner was very stilted, and Mum made no comment when I went off to bed early in the evening. She probably thought I was going through an awful period. As the night before, I tossed and turned while the day’s events played out in my mind. Yes, I was upset with Peter, but that was nothing compared to my anger with myself. With everything I learned during the first time, how could I have been such a simpering fool as to let him have his wicked way with me once more? Was I really that desperate for affection? There, and then, I decided that I would never allow him to use me like that again. However, even as I made this choice, in my subconscious I had the sense that if I again fell under the gaze of his come-hither blue eyes, my resolve would disappear like snow in summer, and I would be his once more.

I finally fell asleep, but it was a restless slumber, and I jolted awake in the middle of the night when a stark image appeared in my mind. The picture was of Peter’s face, as he rode me; his eyes were closed. I then remembered a maxim oft spouted by boys that ‘beautiful and ugly girls all look the same with a bag on their head’ and now understood that Peter was adopting this principle with me. He knew that the below-the-neck sexual vitals were essentially the same for all girls. So, by blocking out my face, he could replace it with an image of his choice and believe he was making out with and riding the girl of his dreams, good and proper. No wonder he was so enthusiastic.

This revelation pushed me over the edge, and I began to cry. I had reluctantly accepted that Peter just used me to satisfy his lusts. Still, I was shattered to now realise that in his head, he was not really riding me at all. My body was just a substitute for the girl he really wanted to shag. I couldn't help but wonder who it was: a movie star, a family friend, a girl at school, or maybe even the girl in our class who attracts boys like bees to a honey pot. To my surprise, thinking about who his dream girl might be was therapeutic and helped me get through my distress.

I now had the astounding revelation that was to change me forever. For the first time, I realised that my lack of good looks and slowness did not have to define me or mean I had to remain alone. I had something that boys wanted, and if their beautiful girlfriends kept their resolve to stay pure until marriage, then I was sure they would readily overlook my flaws if they thought my lady parts were available. I was both horrified and intrigued by the implications. I had no desire to be a sex object, but then, as I mulled the situation over, I realised deep down that I was willing to pay that price to have friends, albeit sexual ones. Moreover, since all the other boys in class had witnessed me and Peter romping, I knew they were now likely to consider me an easy lay and would certainly try their luck. I knew I would have to be very strong-willed and determined to keep the boys at bay. But to my utter astonishment, I had already accepted that it was unlikely.

Indeed, within a couple of days of returning to school, I was propositioned by John.

“What say you and I get together. I will show you what it is like to be with a real man.”

Naturally, I quickly rebuffed him, but that did not stop boy after boy from having a go. This stand-off persisted until the class hunk made his move, and my resolve just melted away. I knew that Tom only wanted to use my pussy, but this situation was different. He was the charming and unbelievably fit lad that the girls in our class and beyond drooled over. Just like them, I had often fantasised about getting up close and personal with him, and now he was offering me the opportunity to fulfil that dream. The choice was a no-brainer. I knew I would probably never get the chance to do the horizontal tango with him again. Additionally, the opportunity to get one over on the girls who despised me so much was too good to pass up.

So, I blushed and said, “Okay, after school today.”

I had no intention of providing free entertainment for others, so I changed the meeting point. “Come alone to the empty barn on Menzie’s farm. It is remote enough that no one will disturb us, and there will be a roof over our heads.”

Tom and I met there after school and quickly began kissing. Despite his macho image, Tom was hesitant and unsure what to do. However, I had learnt many lessons from my time with Peter and knew how to ensure things went smoothly. After some intense smooching, I stripped down to the buff and then began undressing Tom. He could not take his eyes off my pert little boobs as I removed his shirt and vest, and he became almost incoherent when I rubbed them against his bare chest.

I did not linger. I quickly unfastened Tom's belt and lowered his trousers. Tom’s excitement was evident because his drawers were well-tented. I carefully lifted their waistband over the head of his erect cock and then pulled his underpants down. As Tom now stepped out of his trousers and drawers, his rampant cock was level with my head, and I could not resist kissing its tip, which sent it all a quiver and made Tom gasp and sigh with delight.

I then took Tom by the hand and led him to a stall I had set up with hay bedding. I lay down on my back and invited him to join me. There was no uncertainty now. He quickly got on top, and an enchanting hands-everywhere fest ensued. I was gasping and moaning as his fingers and voracious lips took my tits to bliss. As his dick lay between my thighs, they instinctively clamped around it, and the shaft wriggled and squirmed with delight in its new tight cocoon. A further surprise was that my lower lips became moist as they caressed Tom’s shaft. An unmistakable sign that my fanny was ready and wanted to be taken.

Tom got the message and soon his six-inch dick was screwing my fud into a frenzy. I was moaning and groaning in delighted synch with every stroke, when all too soon and just as in Peter’s first time, Tom got overexcited, his cock suddenly went berserk and shot out a seemingly endless stream of cum. Again, my fanny reacted with intense joy as the spunk gathered near my cervix.

I was delighted to find that Tom, unlike Peter, did not then just walk away and leave me. He took me in his arms; we cuddled and smooched together and then fell into that special sleep of the just after. However, our slumbers did not last long. Tom was still horny, and less than an hour later, he awakened me most wonderfully by suckling on my nipples. Every sexual sense in my being immediately switched to full on, and from the get-go, Tom’s ride took me to cloud nine. My hungry twat was pleasured for around ten minutes before Tom’s cock went wild and delivered another, albeit slightly smaller, load of jizz.

Tom and I cuddled and snogged for a few minutes afterwards before he got up and redressed.

Any disappointment I felt soon disappeared when he said, "Same time tomorrow?”

I smiled, and probably a bit too happily said, “Yes, I am already looking forward to it.”

I watched contentedly as Tom went off in the distance, before redressing and almost floating my way home. I slept well that night.

A big surprise the following day was that, unlike after Peter, there was no giggly chatter amongst my classmates. I realised Tom was so assured that he felt no need to boast or boost his ego. What he and I did together was between us and us alone. True to his word, he arrived at the barn soon after school. He must have been saving his energy during the day because he gave me two prolonged, breathtaking rides that evening. Those vigorous workouts left me soaked in perspiration and delirious, but flying on cloud nine. I could not say a word, but nodded vigorously when he again said, "Same time tomorrow?” before he went home. I lay on the hay and rested for around half an hour before I got up and redressed. I was unsteady on my feet and had to walk slowly, but eventually I reached home safely. To Mum's surprise, I went straight to bed.   

I felt on top of the world the following morning, eager for the day ahead. Everything went as usual during the day, but I had a big surprise after school, as it was not Tom who turned up, but his best mate, Harry. He explained that Tom had sent him, and he must have been well schooled by Tom, for Harry began stripping off straightaway. I was taken slightly aback, but it was a mark of how far I had come that, without a word, I also got down to my birthday suit and began making out with him. Soon, I was laid out in the stall, and he was off to the races. I sighed and moaned as his cock drilled my pussy like there was no tomorrow. Harry’s first time lasted a little longer than those of Peter or Tom, before his cock went over the edge and doused my fud with lashings of hot soothing spunk.

I was satisfied and happy, but Harry was disappointed and sad. “I am sorry I got carried away and came too soon. I should have done better for you.”

I cuddled up to him and kissed his lips. “You should be proud. You have satisfied me. That is all that matters. Rest for a while.”

Harry and I woke up much later in each other’s arms and excitedly began to make out. We were both horny, but his dick did not seem to be interested. It was unwilling to stir from its slumbers, leaving Harry disappointed and embarrassed. To my amazement, a way to help him suddenly came to my mind. I scooted around and kissed the tip of Harry’s dick. Previously unknown impulses and instincts then took over. My lips parted, slid down over the nub of Harry’s cock, and then clamped around it. My tongue then began to caress and tease the head of his cock, and it slowly but surely awakened and grew and expanded into my mouth. I started bobbing my head to further encourage it. Harry was soon sighing as his cock engorged and began to twitch and pulse in my mouth.

I was so captivated by this new experience that I almost forgot its real purpose. So, I quickly released Harry’s now erect dick, got on top of him and then guided his shaft towards my, by now, eager vulva. I then steadily pushed backwards so that my fanny lips engulfed the tip of his cock and then slowly but surely engulfed the whole of his throbbing shaft. This simple act was an experience like no other. For I was in complete control, and able to enjoy and savour every sweet sensation rather than having to worry about the lad turning Neanderthal.

Once Harry’s balls were touching my thighs, I began flexing my hips so that his dong was ploughing back and forth inside my slick pussy. Being in charge was not only beguiling for me, but hopefully also educational for Harry. As we coupled, there were two occasions when I realised his cock was close to climax. Instead of letting his cock do its final thing, I slowed down and allowed it to draw back from the edge. His cock and my fanny were taken to unbelievable levels of frenzy each time I sped up again. We were both moaning and groaning as his dick was reaching the point of no return for a third time. On this occasion, I just sped up the action, and screamed as Harry’s cock erupted like a volcano, turned my fud to mush, and filled it with cum. We were exhausted but on an unbelievable high, and then we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I was awoken when Harry got up and redressed.

“Sorry, I must dash. Mum will be furious that I am so late. Same time tomorrow?" I was still elated and enthusiastically agreed. As I lay in the stall still in my sensual dwam, I recalled that during the late stages of my ride of Harry’s rampant cock I felt a build-up of strange, but enchanting feelings in the lower reaches of my fanny. Sadly, these sensations disappeared the moment his dick went wild and shot its load.

No one talked about what sex should be like for girls in those dark days, other than to say it was all about the boys. So, I had no idea what this mysterious response was. Only later, when I eventually had my first climax, did I appreciate how close I had come to experiencing that ultimate female joy while riding Harry.

True to his word, Harry turned up at the barn the following day. I winced as he undressed, for his bottom was dark red, obviously his Mum’s reward for being late.

“I am so sorry you were thrashed because of me.”

“Do not worry. You can help me forget about it.”

“If anything, the spanking made him even more enthusiastic, for he rode me like a thing possessed. He took my breath away and I was completely gaga when my pussy supped on its second large load of spunk. As on the previous day, we slept together for a brief time before he headed off home with the words, “See you on Monday, then?” I couldn't utter a coherent word, but I nodded happily. Eventually, I became sufficiently compos mentis to get up, dress and slowly make my way home. I slept very well that night.

As things turned out, I met Harry by chance in town on Saturday while I was shopping. He looked very crestfallen and miserable, so I asked him what was wrong.

“Mum thrashed me last night for being late again.”

 I winced. The agonies of a harsh beating on an already tender bum did not bear thinking about. But it was not an uncommon occurrence in those dark times. No wonder Harry was despondent.

“I am so sorry you were beaten again because of me. Can I do anything to help you?”

“Do not worry, it was my fault, not yours. We both know what would be good for me just now, but that is not possible given we are in town.”

“I do feel guilty, but you are correct, there are no options for us at present.” However, the moment I said these words, an erotic idea came into my head, and I knew how to take Harry's mind off his pains. I led him by the hand to a small, nearby park and found a cluster of tall bushes that we could hide among. Once there, I took off my coat, placed it on the ground, and told Harry to sit on it. I realised how tender his bum was when I saw how gingerly he sat down.

Once Harry was settled, I then spread his legs and got down on my knees between them. He brusquely asked, “What are you doing?”

Harry went silent as I undid his belt, opened the fly of his trousers, unbuttoned the front of his drawers and uncovered his junk. He did not object and just purred with joy when I then clasped his slumbering cock between my lips and began to lick and tease its head with my tongue. Straightaway, it started to grow and swell up in my mouth, particularly when I began bobbing my head.

Soon came a magical moment when the skin covering the penis tip pulled back to fully reveal its supersensitive bulbous head, which started to quiver with joy as it explored its new wet and tight cocoon. Incredible sensations now swept throughout my mouth as the whole shaft flexed and pulsed in response. Harry’s engorged cock was deep into my mouth when, to my shock, he cupped his hands behind my head so that I was unable to pull back. Then, in a croaky voice, he said, "Get ready, old faithful is about to blow.”

I almost passed out when Harry’s cock suddenly went berserk and splattered masses of jizz onto the back of my mouth. I was momentarily unable to breathe, but thankfully Mother Nature was on my side. A twitch of my tongue disturbed the spunk, and it began to slide down my throat. As I swallowed, I was able to resume breathing through my nose. Harry’s cock did not stop immediately. Instead, it continued to pulse and defile my mouth while endeavouring to deliver every last drop of spunk. My mouth was therefore quite sore before I was allowed to pull free. However, these oral agonies were quickly washed away by waves of sweet sensations flowing from every corner of my mouth as my oral twat revelled in the joys of a job well done. My sense of inner well-being was further lifted when I saw that Harry was no longer frowning. He had the Cheshire cat of all Cheshire cat smiles on his face.

“Gee whiz, that has done the trick. The pains in my bum are now only a bad memory.”   

Harry now closed the fly of his undies, hiding his now quiescent dong from view. Then, he did up his trousers and belt before unsteadily getting to his feet. In the meantime, I drank some water to wash away the last residues of the cack still coating my mouth. Together, we then made our way back to where we originally met before going our separate ways.

Harry was now happy and cheerful, and dare I say it, so was I. Not only had I repaid my dues to him, but in doing so, my long-held suspicions about boys were confirmed. They are not all-powerful. In fact, each one is a slave to his cock, with satisfying its needs and desires a priority whenever the slightest opportunity arises. So, males have a significant weakness. However, this fact is only helpful if Mother Nature has not added to her usual unfairness to girls by subordinating them to their vaginas, as part of the all-consuming female imperative. I am uncertain whether this is the case, but judging by my own limited experience, I fear it may be. For no matter how firm my resolve to avoid a particular boy, it dissolved the moment I knew that cock action was on the cards. Maybe my pussy does control me. Does that mean I will succumb to any well-hung boy?

One aspect of the last few days still bothered me. In addition to traditional missionary-position intercourse, I had now carried out two extraordinary sexual acts with Harry; I had orally teased his cock back to life before getting on top and pussy riding his revived penis to orgasm. I had also orally pleasured his dick to full climax and swallowed its copious output. I had no complaints with this because each act was enthralling and gave me pleasure. However, the problematic issue for me was how I unhesitatingly knew to do these things, given I had no prior knowledge of them, even from schoolyard sex talk. Could it be that these sexual skills were hot-wired in me? If so, why, and what other sensual gems are still hidden in my mental locker? I was slightly shocked to find that I was now keen to find out.  

My sexual meanderings took a further turn that day. After lunch, Mum asked me to follow her through to the living room, where she told me to sit beside her on the sofa. Once we were settled side by side, she gently clasped my hands.

“I have a delicate but essential question to ask you.”

I was stunned, as I did not think I had done anything to upset her of late. So, I nervously replied, “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“I believe you are sexually active; am I correct?”

As to be expected, I was dumbfounded. I had tried my best not to give the game away, but obviously not well enough. How did Mum know? How does a now not-so-pure daughter respond to her mother when she asks this most intimate of feminine questions? Of course, she knew the answer straightaway when I went bright red. I struggled to even mumble a single word before eventually saying, “Oh Mum, I am so sorry, but yes, I am.”

I waited anxiously for the inevitable explosion of anger that this revelation would spark. Still, I was gobsmacked when she just smiled and said, “Naturally, I am disappointed. I hoped you would wait until you were older, but this is the reality of life. Young women are expected to remain pure and innocent. At the same time, they are very curious about sex and surrounded by randy boys, only too keen to help them find out. I know I should be scolding you, but how can I when I did the exact same thing at your age?

“Yes, I know that I am a straight-laced fogey to you, but back in the day, I was considered a goer. I cannot recall how many lads had their way with me, but it was a lot. Do I regret it? Not at all. For girls, there were no discussions or teachings about sex, not a word about even the basic act. The situation was no better for boys, except that they were given a clear message that once they married, their wife would be their property. She was left with few, if any, rights but had an absolute duty to obey him and to serve his every need, including satisfying his sexual demands, no matter how frequent and challenging they were. That was just how the Puritans wanted it. By breaking their rules with my illicit liaisons and romps, I learnt many secrets, both good and bad, about relationships with boys and was able to use that knowledge to guide my boyfriend and then husband into the most wonderful, loving and sharing partnership. I cannot prevent you from doing the same."

“Things are hardly any better now. Why did you not talk to me about this?”

“I am sorry about that, but the moralists are still strongly against any teaching about female issues and will come down like a ton of bricks on anyone who tries to do so. But for me, that is only an excuse. In truth, I did not know how to teach you. It was one thing to learn about sex for myself, but I couldn't broach the subject with you. I could and should have taught you the basics, but the reality is that the only effective way for a girl to learn about sex is to do the practical.

“I had many heartbreaks, but my premarital adventures awakened me to the many sensual wiles, techniques, and skills we females have at our disposal to get males to act as we want. My pussy took many a pounding before I figured them out by trial and error. But it was worth it. Thereafter, no lad that I took in hand and schooled in the unmatched pleasures of equal and freely shared sex ever considered going over to the dark side when they got married. Many a girl has me to thank for that.”

“Wow, I am almost lost for words. I know this is going to sound ridiculous, and please don't be offended. I have difficulty imagining my straight-laced Mum having sex, let alone being promiscuous.”

“Do not fret. I know what you mean. Illogical as it may seem, teenagers often find it difficult to imagine their prim and proper parents doing the deed. Certainly, I could never picture my grumpy Mum getting deep down and personal with Dad. That just made it impossible for me to talk to her about boys; after all, what would she know? However, matters came to a head when my first boyfriend started suggesting I sleep with him to prove my love. In a dither, I blurted this out to my Mum, and that broke the ice for both of us. From then on, in private, we talked freely about female matters, even embarrassing toe-curling ones, and she guided me through the sexual maze.

“I should tell you to avoid randy lads until you are ready to marry, but I will not. There is so much you need to learn about boys before you take the marital plunge. If you like him, follow your heart. Just take care, but do what you think best.

“I was a teenager and thought I was in love, so stupidly I proved it to him. However, after sharing his bed for three exhausting nights, he shagged me one last time as the sun rose on the fourth morning before telling me it was over and to get out. I was just another name on his scoresheet, used and then discarded when another innocent target emerged. Mum found me in floods of tears and eventually coaxed the story out of me.”

“Why did you not warn me?”

“This will sound harsh, but would you have believed me? I realised that you were infatuated by the lad and would never listen to anything negative I had to say about him. So, I had no choice but to let you learn the truth for yourself.”

“Yes, you are right. I so wanted the lad to be the one that nothing would have stopped me. In fact, I would have been determined to prove you wrong.”  

“Well, now you have learnt a harsh but valuable truth: boys are not always the angels they appear to be. However, do not be put off; you must continue meeting interesting lads. Like me, you will make more mistakes along the way, but the knowledge, both positive and negative, you gain about boys will serve you well in the future. It did for me.”

“Oh my, now I see you in a new light. Will you help guide me through the sexual morass?”

“Yes, of course. Intimacy and intercourse are the most difficult and embarrassing subjects for any mother and daughter to discuss, so they are usually avoided. However, events have taken us beyond that hurdle. Not only are we now free to have those special conversations, but for both our sakes, we must have them. My Mum was always there when I needed support and advice, and for comfort when I was in floods of tears. I will do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“Oh my, I have just realised there is something my Mum did for me that I must do for you straightaway. I am still embarrassed to admit that at the time, I did not know intercourse could lead to pregnancy. But, given the strict ethos of never teaching girls anything about themselves, that ignorance was to be expected. Fortunately, luck was on my side. I was not pregnant, but I still shiver when I think of the risks I unknowingly took. We must get you fitted with a contraceptive as soon as possible and hope that it is not too late.”

Mum’s words shook me to the core. I was vaguely aware of the links between sex and pregnancy. But in the sheer thrill of having eager boyfriends and my desperation to please them, I had not given that matter any thought. What was done was done, and all I could now do was hope that Mother Nature’s revenge came at the usual time.

That evening, Mum took me to see a friend who was a qualified nurse. Mum explained the situation to her, and the nurse took me through to a treatment room. What followed entrenched my abhorrence of intimate, albeit essential, examinations. I soon found myself on an examination table, my legs held akimbo in its stirrups, and my vulva on full display. I could not understand why this made me feel so ill at ease, since several boys had already ogled and used my fanny. However, it was the fact that two mature ladies, one being my Mum, were viewing and critically commenting upon my young mimsy as though I was not there that made me cringe.

Fortunately, the nurse soon inserted a long device where only boys’ cocks had gone before. After a few minutes of discomfort, she withdrew it and said, “There now, you now have a contraceptive coil in place, so you are now not at risk of pregnancy.”

The nurse smirked and could not help herself from making a final snide comment. “Unfortunately, you will have to abstain for the next three days to let things settle down, but then your eager beaver can get back to getting what it obviously wants.” Later, I realised these were the bitter words of one who was not getting any.

Mum and I headed off home, and I went to bed straight away. I eventually fell asleep, but by morning, I felt pretty uncomfortable down there. With plenty of rest over the next couple of days, this unpleasantness disappeared. However, just when I was getting back to normal, my period kicked in, and good grief, it was a doozy, by far the most debilitating to date. I was completely out of it for three more days, but finally it passed. I was comfortable by midday on Sunday and ready to face the world again. Naturally, I was immensely relieved it was over, but more so, because I now knew I had somehow dodged the many sperm bullets. However, I could not help but wonder if my particularly heavy menses was Mother Nature taking her revenge for stymying the reasons for her monthly nest building. If so, her anger was intense, for I had several very bad monthlies before they calmed to more tolerable levels.

I returned to school on Monday, but everyone left me alone, presumably unsure how I would be after a week off with some undefined illness. But, boys being boys, this situation did not last. On Tuesday, Harry introduced me to his friend Simon, and we did the deed after school. Harry must have coached him beforehand, because he never hesitated. Even as it lost its virginity, Simon's cock screwed my fanny into a frenzy. It was equally beguiling the second time around. So, I was gasping and away with the fairies when he shot his second load of spunk into me. However, after its previous traumatic week, my fud was delighted to be used for purpose, and I sighed steadily as I was engulfed in the waves of pleasurable sensations radiating from it.

Simon and I repeated our sexual antics the following day, and they were just as enthusiastic and pleasurable as the first time around. Then, on Thursday, Simon introduced me to his friend Paul, and inevitably, he and I then shared two days of intimate action after school.

I admit I was slow to catch on. However, my introduction to Simon and then to Paul confirmed the notion that I was now being passed from boy to boy in our class, so that they have the chance to take that key carnal step on the road to manhood.

I know that girls of today will scream blue murder if they are accosted or intimately touched by a boy, let alone being used in this way. However, this was still in the dark macho ages when girls had no voice. Any complaints would be brushed off as fantasies or lies and could even result in girls' bottoms having a painful acquaintance with the tawse. So, I had little choice but to go with the flow.

Mind you, I was not complaining. After so many years alone, I was no longer a no-friend. Boys were buzzing around me like flies, and it did not matter to me that my fanny was the main attraction. If putting out to them was the price of companionship, then so be it. After all, intercourse is a perfectly natural male-female act, with the bonus that it provides great pleasure.

Therefore, over the weeks that followed, I became the class bike: every boy had a ride, in fact, several. Twelve cocks, all unique in their enchanting length, girth, and contour. Big was good, but not the be-all and end-all. A smaller penis could be equally breathtaking when thrust with strength and enthusiasm; all boys have powerful hips, but sadly do not always know how to use them to full advantage.

The lads mostly visited me one by one, but there were occasions when they came in pairs. The first time was when Tom returned for relief and brought his friend Stephan, the smallest and shiest boy in the class, who was mercilessly tormented by almost everyone, with him.

“Stephan is keen to lose his cherry but has no idea what is involved and is too shy to ask you himself. So, I have brought him to watch a biology lesson for the future. Is that okay with you?”

Naturally, I was startled by this, but finally said, “Yes, that is fine.”

Stephan was like a rabbit looking into headlights as he watched Tom and me get down to the buff, make out, and enthusiastically do the deed. On the surface, Stephan seemed unaffected by this scene. However, his cock gave the game away. Once the fog in my head began to clear, I saw that his trousers were tented, almost fit to burst. That was when my ever-willing fanny sent an instant message to my brain. ‘Stephan is supposed to be for another day, but he is already aroused. Why delay? Give him what he wants now.'

I got up, went over to Stephan, kissed him on the lips and began undressing him. He was all a dither, and his eyes were out on stalks as he ogled my tits. He then gasped and sighed when I rubbed them against his bare chest. Mind you, I was the next to gasp in surprise, for when I took down Stephan’s trousers and underpants, I found that Mother Nature had more than compensated for Stephan’s small stature. His cock was two inches longer and twice the girth of that of any boy who had ridden me.

 I shivered with trepidation at this first sight of Stephan’s eye-watering junk. Nonetheless, this anxiety was quickly swept aside when, to my utter shock, I realised that my pussy had no such doubts. It was quivering not in fear but in eager anticipation of battle with Stephan’s massive schlong.

I now followed my fud’s bidding, lay down on the hay bedding, pulled Stephan on top of me and directed the tip of his rampant cock to my vulva. Any uncertainty or shyness holding Stephan back disappeared in an instant once his penis was at the moist entrance to the promised land. He began driving his mighty shaft into me straightaway. Although my fanny was still slick from Tom’s attentions, it still struggled to cope, and I moaned steadily as Stephen’s large tool stretched it in all ways. I was therefore relieved when his massive balls finally kissed my thighs. This respite, however, was short-lived for this previously shy boy now went Neanderthal. He screwed me with gusto, and I groaned and moaned in rhythm with each rapid thrust of his cock, which was driven home with all the power his mighty hips could muster.  

My fanny was already engulfed in a sensual maelstrom when a vaguely familiar and enthralling sensation began to build in its depths. These captivating feelings then spread throughout my vagina, which then went frantic as my whole body tensed up. I then screamed and howled with shock and sheer delight when my pussy began spasming like mad and the dam burst, flooding my fanny with love juices. All the while, wave after wave of all-consuming pleasure surged through me. These responses excited Stephan even more. He went into overdrive and drilled my fud faster and harder until he shot a massive load. I shrieked like a banshee, as his tremoring cock doused my ravished fud with spunk. I could hardly believe I had just been taken to seventh heaven by the shyest boy in class. But as they say, it is the quiet ones you must watch out for.

I watched Stephan’s now receding cock in awe as he got up and began to redress. My vital signs were returning to near normal when it finally disappeared from my view. Then, to my shock, I got an urgent prompt from my still hungry pussy. So, I turned to Tom, kissed him on the lips, and said, “Are you ready for some more?”

Tom did not linger, and his rampant cock was soon enthralling my demanding fanny once more. He must have learnt from watching Stephan because for the first time, he unleashed the full power of his hips. He had me moaning and groaning loudly in synch with his rampant cock as it pillaged my fanny to nirvana. As with Stephan, my body became stiff and my fud frantic, just before I was consumed in pleasure as it went wild and flooded with my juices. I was still relishing this bliss when Tom took me to an even greater high by shooting his load.

As I lay under Tom, gasping for air but also floating in the clouds, I naively asked him, “What has just happened?"

Tom grinned. “I believe that you have just orgasmed. Girls are never told they can climax, much like boys; that would never do. However, I by chance overheard my married sister describe one. You reacted to a ride in the same way she portrayed. Congratulations. You have just gone through the very special feminine joy that sadly, if my understanding is correct, most girls and women never experience in their lifetime.”

Both lads beamed as I said, “Oh wow, and twice in one night. No wonder I am over the moon and exhausted at the same time.”

I then kissed Tom and Stephan on the lips. “You should go now. I need to rest for a while before I go home. You naughty boys have tired me out, but I am happy you did so. Let us do it again soon.” Tom and Stephan were both grinning with sheer delight when they headed off.

I have no idea how long I slept, but it was dark before I got up, redressed and headed home.

I expected Mum to be angry about my tardiness, but she was not. I just nodded sheepishly when she smiled and said, “You look like you have had a good time. I still remember coming home looking that dishevelled but over the moon after a vigorous session with a very fit boyfriend. Enjoy the afterglow and get a good night’s sleep.” I did, even as long-lasting tingles of climax continued to radiate from my pussy.

I am doubly thankful to Tom and Stephan not only for taking me to climax that day, but also for unlocking my pussy's tremendous potential; thereafter, it was highly responsive to enthusiastic cock action. I did not climax on every occasion, but I usually did whenever a lad spent plenty of time getting me really horny before riding me for all he was worth.

The lads must have had a timetable for their ongoing practical biology lessons because they visited me in a well-defined order. At first, as singles, but then as time passed, they came more often as best-friend pairs. In that case, I was never approached for intercourse the following day; that was my rest period, so to speak. After all, the boys did not want to overdo things and risk losing the opportunity for regular sex.

One could say the boys in my class exploited me and my loneliness. However, while that was true in the beginning, once each had lost their virginity, they took things to an exquisite and invigorating level. They became gentle, caring, and enthusiastic lovers, keen to experiment and share in the many delights of male-female coupling. Through sex, we became the closest of friends in every sense. Together, we uncovered and experienced many well-hidden but valuable secrets about boys, girls, sex and relationships that we would put to good use later in life. In the short term, their girlfriends soon found that they now had almost perfect boyfriends; kind, gentle and entertaining, all without the regular hassle of having to fend off the usual demands that they prove their love for them, since the boys' carnal needs were already being met.

I was a shy, lonely, and not too bright girl, drifting along in no meaningful direction, when I became an easy mark for the boys. They changed me forever and for the better. Over time, the introverted, would-not-say-boo-to-a goose girl steadily became more confident, organised, and decisive, and was no longer a pushover. I even began to excel in classwork, particularly in the biological subjects, much to the surprise of my teachers. These remarkable improvements in my demeanour and abilities only occurred because I was ridden to maturity and assured young womanhood by those eager and enthusiastic boys.