Date: Tue, 3 Mar 2015 12:17:46 -0600
From: Brittany Gay <tomgirlx93@gmail.com>
Subject: Stories from the Life - That rare situation

Stories from the Life
That One Situation
Feb. 27, 2007
(Revised January 9, 2015)

	  Frankly, Frankie was like a wing of nuisance; that I willingly
flew under. Trouble equaled fun, as far as she knew, and could not allow it
any other way. Actually, I believe that was Frankie's motto. I was raised
to be an upstanding citizen, and so was Frankie herself, but where was the
enjoyment in that? In the watchful radar of those whom mattered- meaning
parents and other authority figures- my clean but boyish buddy and I were
good girls. However, any moment we had the chance mischief of all sorts had
ensued. And we were not alone with those immature endeavors. Along to coast
under the radar were my twin sister Chris, next our friends Phoenix and
Atlantis (another set of twins), and then the only actual boy amongst us-
and just as gay- Warren. There was smoking skunky marijuana out of apples,
exchanging porn amongst each other, speaking of sex when even though some
of us hadn't experienced it yet, ditching our separate schools to meet up
at someone's house, or taking the train to the city during which is where
Frankie lived. There, in certain parts of Chicago, we would window-shop the
high fashion. When seeing something we liked, needless to say we opted out
actually purchasing certain articles of clothing. We saved our allowance
for when we would sneak out at night to crash a party, or enter a club with
fake I.Ds; dressed in the stolen, and impressive merchandise. What would
become the wildest thing we had done was getting a room at a seedy motel in
the city for one weekend. Performing this stunt lead to me losing my
virginity, at the age of sixteen.

  The weather felt stale, that August sixteenth. It was about 3am, in the
morning, when the situation had occurred. We had snuck into a bar earlier
on for kicks, trouble, and whatever else adolescent irresponsibly could
bring. It was one of the few watering-holes in the city where anything
went: straight, gay, transsexual, bisexual, etc.

Despite of our young faces, the fake identity cards had gotten us into the
exclusive establishment. It was Pride weekend, and Boys' Town (Chicago's
gay area) was alive with activity; even during those latter hours. Before
working ourselves inside of the club, we had smoked a few bowls of
Blueberry Kush; which was done behind a dumpster a few alleys away. My
brain was sailing immediately after my first Appletini, and then shots of
whatever else advertised exotic had me soaring. The sheepish look, across
Frankie, Chris, Phoenix, Warren and Atlantis' faces had read that they were
feeling the same. Now though we were kids, we had a high tolerance for
inebriants. This not so flattering fact is what lead to that rather obscure
situation.

Accept for Frankie and I, the others wanted to keep the night short; to not
get too crazy because there was plenty of that to be done the following day
before the Pride parade. So, once they had reached just the veracious level
of drunkenness, my sister (as well as the other half of our clique)
retreated to the motel a few blocks away. Not ready to turn-in for the
night, Frankie and I continued dancing and sipping mixed drinks. It was not
until the club had announced last-call that Frankie and I went on to exit
the place. That was at around two in the morning. Giggling and occasionally
stumbling as we strode to the Abbott Motel, somehow along the way me and my
short-haired crony had made a wrong turn; which lead to a more secluded
part of Boys' Town.

The moment Frankie and I had realized we were no longer walking in the
intended direction, we stopped and observed our unacquainted surroundings;
hoping something familiar would direct us to the Abbott. During this
moment, I had looked over at my reflection, in the front windows of a
vintage boutique. I have always been a lipstick kind of gay girl. My
natural, sandy shaded hair was always down around my shoulders. Though
make-up was never necessary, I loved to apply a bit of: mascara, light eye
shadow, and a hint of rouge on to my olive skin. It was fun to act and to
give the impression of a model; though I only stand at five foot eight. I
am rarely dressed-down; meaning I avoid sweat clothes, unless I was working
out. That night, I went for the country-girl look complete with: a plaid
long-sleeve shirt checkered red and black, low-rise cut off shorts, and a
cute pair of black cowgirl boots. I had the shirt unbuttoned just low
enough to suggest my cleavage; which were blooming, to my excitement,
beautifully. My smooth, feminine legs shined from the Vaseline I had
applied to them earlier on. Though sure this outfit was still alluring,
even after hours of aggressive dancing, I had started to ask Frankie how it
all looked to her. The question was just coming to my lips when that merlot
painted, imported car- with ominously tinted windows- had slowly turned at
the corner we were standing on.

At first Frankie and I were not fazed by this. That is until we noticed, as
Frankie and I had begun walking again, that the car was following the speed
of our strides; rolling along with a menacing creep. Seeming very concerned
Frankie had glanced at me, then at that car, straight ahead, then back at
me. All of this before leaning over to whisper:

"Is it me, or is that car following us?"

Slightly quickening the pace of our steps, I did not want to consider of
it. Having my wing signal concern, in an unaccustomed sector of the city,
made my stomach lurch. Even with my system occupied by hard liquor, beers
that had been on tap, and my head chockfull of smoke, anxiety had still
ascended there. They must have been following us a while. I had sensed so,
a few minutes before. However, I had ignored those notions. Then the car
slowed more, came to a complete stop, and the passenger's window trolled
down. I think we both swallowed hard, as we paused our paces, looked over,
and waited.

"Are you hustlers?" the driver had asked; leaning over the lap of the
passenger.

"What?! Are you high?" fire was on Frankie's tongue.

"Coming down, unfortunately." a voice from the back seat had vocalized.

  "Ask them if they have any shit." The passenger had pushed the driver. "I
need another pill. A few more."

Frankie then looked at me, and grabbed my hand. She needed back-up, on this
one: sensing fierce come-backs, along with wittiness, was going to be
necessary here. Such was required, in instances like this, to shoo away
idiots.

  "What do we look like?" I had stated; ready for action.

  "The streets." the driver then responded.

  "Stylish, and very cute. But I'm also getting troubled, urban youth." The
passenger turned to say.

Frankie's mouth dropped. My expression also read that I was offended. Those
had to be insults. Intoxicated, foreign girls could be the root of a bad
night. This was apparent, from past experiences. They were the ones with
money. In town, from where ever they had flown from; indulging in negative
activity. Being a drunken-mess, with their equally neurotic friends. Always
straight/bi-curious, pretty, wealthy, and snotty. These girls were giving
us that vibe. Those fools laughing, after our reaction to their initial
comments, gave me the itch to find the nearest brick, and use it on those
darkened windows. I'll be coming that angry.

  "Look, I'll give you this..." the driver presented the largest hunk of
money I had ever seen, "if you fuck this whole car."

  	I had blinked, and tried to wake up; sure that I have been dreaming
this whole time. Frankie tightened her grip on my hand.

  "My friend won't stop nagging me for a fling." The pretty driver had
continued, with her thick accent; long eyelashes titillating me, even when
trying to hate her. She noticed Frankie was packing. Not a straight-girl
fondness. The bitch knew exactly what she was looking for, though, even if
she was straight. We must have been it. Something wild, hot, and kinky,
perhaps. However, girls or even people like them are trash. Considered
that, in our terms, anyway. Only trash would stop someone on the street, in
the twilight hours, and offer money for sex; while they're on hardcore
drugs, and perhaps even alcoholics.

  "Get the fuck outta here." Frankie moved to walk away, and pulled me
along.

  "Don't be scared." The driver went on to tease.

  	This made Frankie stop. They glared at each other, for a moment;
she and the driver. Frankie then pulled me close; steering me so that my
ear was at her lips.

"How crazy is this right now, Ash?" She had whispered to me.

  "Too crazy. What's going on?" I was all messed up, in the
head. Sandwiched between fear, and curiosity.

  "Let's do it."

  "What?" I snatched my hand away. "This is that kind of random moment, you
know, that we should walk away from?"

Frankie was obviously taken by the whole thing. Up for a challenge, as
always. I was doubting the idea, mentally. Also hoping she was just
speaking drunken-thoughts. This was too good to be true. These awfully
beautiful girls, pulling up, and offering us a large amount of money for
sex. It had to be a trick. Only a sucker would fall for such a thing. A
damned fool. I was sure of it. Plus, I was becoming incredibly nervous. It
was like being told you were next to play, in a crucial basketball game,
you never really practiced for.

"I got a good feeling about this, though. It`s ok." Frankie had insisted.

I was losing. Optimism was running low on my part. I was in a situation
that needed to be avoided. I needed to talk her out of this, and it was
going to be hard. However, I never objected aloud. I was thinking of other
options, to steer my friend away from that mess. I was also slowly tossing
my trust into her hands; as I always ended up doing. Before I knew it, we
were getting into that posh, foreign car; packed in the back, being driven
to a desolate place, and getting felt-up by complete strangers along the
way. When isolation was found, there was no time wasted.

The choices in sexual tastes were odd. The back-seat girls had begun the
unusual situation. One wanted to suck Frankie's strap-on, while I licked
her pussy. The other sat on Frankie's face. All this in the backseat, of a
Jaguar. It worked, somehow. The girls got off quick, and hard. Driver and
Passenger jerked each other off, while watching from the front seat. The
one I was doing spilled her cum, all over me, when she came. Orally
pleasuring her was staggering! I couldn't believe I was actually doing it,
finally- licking another girl's sex. I shivered when her sweet taste, and
smell effected my senses. I also grasped why my friends loved this so
much. It really is incredible, I had thought. Her response alone was making
my heart race. My body felt sunny, even though I wasn't being
stimulated. It couldn't have been the inebriants, making me feel that
way. This had to be how it really was.

When they caught their breath, for a moment, the back-seat girls sat
outside, for a smoke. Also to make some room. Then the passenger let her
seat all the way back.

"Fuck me in my ass." She demanded of Frankie. Her accent, made the grimy
statement sound tasteful.

My friend wore a shocked expression, for a quick second. Kneeling on the
backseat, with her Lucky Brand jeans open. Silicone-cock sticking out 12
inches, wet with saliva. Black, ribbed tee pulled behind her neck. Lips
glossy, from the one girl's wetness. I was even turned on, by the
sight. Frankie slipped on a condom, as the Passenger positioned herself on
the seat; face towards the floor, with her nicely-formed ass up. My thong
was becoming slicker, just watching. The girl's swollen pussy was
glimmering, even in the darkness of the car's interior. It was
mouth-watering, and I was picturing Frankie sinking into it; fucking her
like a boy. I started stroking myself, as The Driver slid into the back,
and then positioned my back against the door. My thong was torn off, with
one aggressive motion; before I could prepare myself.

The girl opened my shirt, and unsnapped the front clasps of my bra. My
nipples perked out when cool air, from a partially cracked window, brushed
my chest. She went about sucking on them forcefully; licking, biting, and
pulling with her teeth until they could not stretch any further. The
stirrings in my cunt amplified. Lips were touching my bare skin, for the
first time; while pleasuring and hurting me. My body went into shock. Those
feelings startled me, and I tried pushing her away. However, the girl was
much too ravenous for that. She pinned my arms behind me, and covered my
vulva with her mouth. I yelped, when a flash struck me like lightening;
hitting my brain, like a pain. Her lips wrapped around my clit sucking so
hard it hurt. The skin of my bud was sliding between her lips, and
teeth. It was abnormally gratifying, nonetheless. I was half cracked from
this new sensation carrying out in my nerves; scrambling my thoughts more
badly than an artificial remedy.

As four fingers sank into me, I watched Frankie pound the other girl. I
recalled grunts of difficulty, a few moments ago. I had heard the girl
refuse lube, when Frankie had popped open the small bottle. She had had it
in her pocket.

'How prepared', I then thought.

The girl was taking the dick so well; groaning and begging Frankie to go
harder, deeper, and faster. And Frankie did fuck her just so. My orgasm
climbed, as the driver finger-fucked, and sucked me. I was being pumped
with so much rapture, I almost could not stand it. When she came up to kiss
me in the mouth, that's when the driver had noticed additional company in
the distance. She continued forcefully fingering me, even when focusing on
the distant headlights. Then suddenly I squealed, and bounced on her digits
as I came. This was just before her sharply addressing to her friend:
"Someone's coming!"

"I am." The other girl grunted. Though it was kind of sexy, her taking it
up the ass, it appeared quite painful.

"No. I see someone driving in. Over there."

But her friend kept moaning, and receiving Frankie's thrusts ecstatically.

"It's the police, you fool!" the driver declared, climbing back into the
motorist's seat.

"Don't stop." The passenger warned, when Frankie tried pulling out. "Let me
cum. I'm almost there."

The other two had also spotted the car, slowly coming our way. We were
hidden, by stacked freight-trailers. Though the person approaching probably
could not see us, they were still zeroing in. The others jumbled to get
into the car; causing me to topple out, when they opened my door. The
passenger-girl rubbed herself vigorously, and finished. Nothing was going
to stop her from that. Then Frankie tried pulling the toy out. It was all
the way in.

  	This is where it got truly wild.

  "Shit. It's stuck." Frankie had announced.

  "What?!?" The driver looked over.

  "Open up. Stop being greedy!" One of the others shouted.

  "I can't. It won't now." the receiver of Frankie's toy had painfully
assured.

By the way Frankie was pulling back, I could see how jammed they really
were.

When trying to pull it out by her hand did not work, the other girls had
tried by pulling Frankie by her hips. The Passenger was grunting out in
absolute pain now, with each thrust rearwards. Then, somehow, they managed
to slip Frankie out of the harness; after seconds of trying the other
way. They tossed Frankie and our clothes out of the Jag, and drove away;
leaving us there to deal with that mysterious car on our own. All of this
happening, in a matter of seconds.

  	It was indeed a cop. We were able to hide, though. Frankie and I
waited until the pig was out of sight. When the sound of his wheels had
disappeared, we then dressed. Frankie lit a cigarette, as we made our way
out of the yard. I was speechless, and so was she. As Frankie went to put
the lighter into a back pocket, her hand hit something that she had not
noticed before. I had glanced over, and there was the promised wad of
money, in my friend's right hand! Both of our eyes popped out, and mouths
dropped.

"How did it get there?" I asked, never recalling Frankie taking the cash.

"One must have stuffed it there, at some point. I don't remember." She
smiled, with a coy twinkle in her eye. "I still would have done it, for
free."

"After all of that?"

  	She just laughed, and laughed. Then I laughed. That's when the pain
in my pelvis had struck me.

 "You ok?" Frankie asked. "What's wrong?"

  	It was evident, in my walk.

  "She was shoving her whole hand, into me."

  "Ouch! Bet you feel like a virgin, right now."

  "I am. Well..."

  "What?!" Frankie stopped walking, seizing my arm. "I didn't know that. I
would have never-"

  "I thought you knew."

  "I figured you were keeping it to yourself. For whatever reason."

  "Well, how come you've never asked?"

 	Frankie puffed deeply, on to the Marlboro. "Because virginity,
especially for a girl, is a very sacred thing. You are never entitled to
tell anyone, unless you want to. It's your business." She could get
poetically insightful, when answering a question.

  	I was known to be sensuous. Considered slutty even. Obviously, it
was assumed I had given it away, already. We were all overly sexed kids;
thirsty for other girls. Making ourselves look as scandalous as possible,
to attract he adermin eye of other girls, on party-nights. It was
everyone's main goal, even if they did not say so. There were some of us
that fucked, and let everyone know about it. Then there were some of us,
whom kept those intimate experiences reserved. Even if people already did
know.

The next day, I was bursting with a strange elation. My eyes felt wider,
and my body reinvigorated, and uncultivated. The whole experience had left
me renewed. Though there was not such a sweet ending, of cuddling and
kisses, I did not feel used. I had other ideas of how I would have lost my
virginity. That experience, being nothing I had ever dreamed of, served as
a congenial surprise.