Date: Fri, 9 Mar 2012 08:24:23 +0100
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Magenta. Part One

  This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments, good
or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

  Part One

 I have been called many names in the past ranging from being precocious to
a slut. I will leave you to decide which of the many epithets or
appellations to my name and into which category I fit. But beware, because
what is in these pages are the dreams and wishes of many women and thus you
could very well be labelled from your dreams as well as your actions.

   That I chose voluntary to act out my dreams should be taken into account
before I am given any kind of label that a lot of them may have been your
secret wish too, so don't judge me out of hand but think, and think well
that the name you wish to put to me is not one that can also be attached to
you for your own thoughts.

   The name, appellation or whatever you decide to give me is of no
consequence, and quite frankly, I don't give a shit. I am me!  I am
Magenta! A free loving spirit that lives out her dreams and to hell what
other people think for I enjoy life and live it to the full. The pox on all
these do gooders who tell us what we should do and say as long as it
doesn't offend some pulpit, bible thumping person who, if the truth be
known, is probably a pederast anyway. Those who have most to hide are the
worst offenders in decrying what does happen in this world.

   My hypothesis is that you are only here on earth for a short speck of
time, so enjoy it. I do not mean or condone it to be violence to others but
more the opposite, to love and be loved. Love can take many forms and I
intend to give as much love as I can to other people and take what love
they offer me in return.

   Nymphomania is another name that has been ascribed for my predilections,
and I suppose in some ways it is true, but the word itself is not enough to
describe exactly what goes on in the mind and bodies of those who they say
are afflicted by this...what? Where do you draw the line of enjoying sex?
The bottom line is abstinence where one doesn't have sex at all in any
shape or form. How frustrating, but there are people who do this and I pity
them for what they have missed in life. They are not to be praised but
pitied. We are like all animals and to survive you must copulate with
another to ensure the survival of your species. Christ! We'd be extinct if
we didn't have sex.

   So sex is and should only be used for procreation as we are told. The
bitch will only mate with a dog when she is in heat the same as bovine
animals, but a bull is ready to cover any female of his specie if he has
the chance. It is this cycle that the female controls that she only mates
when it is time to produce and that she can care for her offspring.

    This is where we differ from the animal kingdom that we do not have sex
just to this end. We have come to find that it is enjoyable without having
to give birth at the end of it, though it does happen. That is the fault of
the individual because we have the means to enjoy sex and not procreate and
have the concomitant of keeping our sex life to once a year, giving the
female the time to recover from her last birthing.

   I'm not going to go into all the birthing cycles of various animals
because a rabbit produces more off spring than an elephant and God help us
if elephants could produce as fast as rabbits. It is the size of the animal
that determines how and when it is time to reproduce and the smaller the
animal, the more they produce because that is part of nature's way as they
become the food for the larger ones. That basically is the way of nature,
but we as humans, differ because we have sex for pleasure as well.

   So going from abstinence, how far do you go before it becomes
nymphomania? The definition in the dictionary is an excessive sexual desire
in women! How banal a statement. Where's the finishing post in this
race. One furlong, two or a mile and a half. In a man he is called a sex
maniac but this conjurers up a brutal man forcing himself upon women for
his gratification but what of the man who likes sex from the pleasure it
brings to both sides of the equation.

   But it is the word excess in terms of the woman that drives me mad, for
it does not state where that line is, so I have chased that line and not
had excessive sex though I have it as often where and when I can, so how
can I have a label as to my proclivity to how many times I have a male
organ inside me.

   This is why I asked you at the beginning to think before you judge on
what name should be applied to me. For the woman who has furtive sex once a
week under the bedclothes believing it to be her conjugal duty would class
me as a slut. A woman who gets less than I do would say I'm a slut, but
what of you others who have sex for the pure enjoyment and pleasure you
derive from it and probably get more than me. Do you call yourselves sluts
or just say that you are entitled to enjoy yourselves as I do? Let each
individual who reads this come to their own conclusions based on their own
appetite for having sex albeit with a man or another woman.

   Enough pontificating as it is time to tell you about myself and what I
like most in life. At the time of writing this I am just over twenty years
of age, healthy and have never felt better as I am now. I'm of Caucasian
blood and not averse to mixing with people of other races, neither has
religion ever entered my thoughts and hate to read of these so called race
riots. We are all men and women and that's it as far as I'm concerned. A
circumcised prick gives me the same joy and pleasure as one that hasn't
been cut, so that argument, if thrown up holds no water. Though it has been
said that there is a difference in the man's enjoyment if he has or hasn't
had the operation, but that is not an argument I will get into.

   I'm about five six in height and weigh around nine and a half stone. I
think I am beautiful but that is in the eye of the beholder as it is well
known. My eyes, both of them, are of a light blue in colour but have been
told, for I cannot see them at the time, that they go very dark when I am
angry. My nose is proportional as befit's the structure of my bones and is
above a wide and generous mouth that more than once I've been told is of a
size that is equivalent of the size down below, but it's big enough to take
the largest cock head I've ever seen and still have room to give it
pleasure. My teeth are still the originals and are straight and even and
keep a lovely white colour for I don't smoke.

   My breasts are somewhat out of proportion as they are a little bit on
the heavy side for my height, but men drool over them, especially when the
nipples rise up to their full potential when aroused, big enough for their
teeth to grasp and nibble on. That is a drawback sometimes because more
than once I've had some bastard really try to chew them off. I'm not giving
you the size of my tits except to say that they are big, as it might upset
some and others wouldn't believe it.

   My waist is trim and I will say that it is still at twenty three inches
and has been for quite some time now. My hips are generous and have been
used as handles to help the male bring more pressure of my body upon his
own as he has been making love to me. The thighs are, well I think they are
normal and that they taper down to two shapely calves with trim ankles that
end in my feet which fit into a size five shoes. Oh my hair? That is a deep
auburn colour and I'll tell you now that the collar and cuffs match.

   So let's get down to my story which I should really start from when I
was born, but that is rather difficult. I was there, but I cannot remember
a thing about it as you can no doubt gather. My mother was unmarried and I
never did find out who my father was and I have a distinct feeling that she
didn't know his name either. So I was born a bastard and remained one
though I have had extra names added, such as bolshie when I was at
school. This was part due to my nature to question everything and be most
belligerent and got the nickname of Red because of my deep auburn hair and
of being named Magenta.

   It was in biology classes that I came to the fore, learning all about
the difference between males and females though this was all through words
and badly drawn pictures in our text books. I then began to get practical
lessons behind the cycle shed which no doubt many others of you learned
about it the same way. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.

   The boys were only too eager to pull out their little willies for me to
see as long as they could see what I had hidden in my school knickers. It
got to the point where I began to leave them off as they were always too
big and got in the way. I got to handle all different shapes and sizes of
pricks as well as try to guess the weight of the balls beneath, and they in
turn, could touch me and I would tell them exactly what they were
touching. I like to think that the boys in my class learned more from me
than from the teacher with all his books.

   I encouraged them to finger my almost invisible clitoris and would even
let them insert two fingers inside me while I played with their small
little penises. It wasn't until their last two years did they start getting
erections in my hand and then I would jerk them off if they would kiss my
lower lips. This put some of the boys off but the most daring who would do
so had the pleasure of my hand bringing them to the brink of ejaculation
before I would demand my payment for the service I was rendering.

   To some it was the insertion of their tongue into the entrance of my
vagina, or a good strong lick down amongst the folds of my sex or just a
straight forward kiss on the mouth. It depended at how I felt about that
particular boy or the shape and size of his organ.

   It was only in the last year that I began to let the boys put the head
of their cocks inside me, but only the head because I had learnt that with
my hymen intact I would still be a virgin, but I would let a couple of the
boys put themselves inside me till I felt them reach that point and that
was as far as I would let them go. Mind you, they all, after a couple of
prods would pull out and come all over the now growing hairs around my sex.

   There was only one boy I took a fancy to and that was because he had the
biggest cock of them all. He was a Nigerian by the name of Basil, black as
the ace of spades and he did have a big one by comparison to the others. In
a private one to one session, I worked on his tool and brought it fully
erect and I bent down and took him into my mouth and carried on jerking him
off till he came.

   So at only fifteen I sucked on my first cock and took all that he sent
out and swallowed it, licking his cock after he'd finished. I met him later
on in life as you will find out and...well, we'll leave that till the right
time. But it was at this time that with having so many suitors after my
favours, be it being able to touch my quim or having me play with their
cocks did I realise the power that a woman could have over a man and that
he could be led by his penis.

   To prove this, I set out to lose my virginity to the sports master of
the school. He was about fifteen years older than me, but I could see that
he definitely had something worth investigating inside his shorts when he
took us for P.T. My breasts had now almost fully developed and I found that
by wearing one of my oldest and now too small T shirt tops, made my breasts
look even bigger and it didn't take much for me to get the nipples to stand
out firm enough to be seen through the thin material.

   With these T shirts, we also wore a short navy blue pleated skirt and I
went so far as to go into his classes without my knickers on. So with the
boys at one end of the gymnasium using the net for basket ball practice, we
would, at the other end be using ours for netball.

   Of course, jumping up and down as I did, he soon noticed that he could
see my bum quite clearly and if I was facing him, the hair of my muff. When
this was spotted, he spent most of his time down at our end of the gym,
encouraging us to jump higher to get the most from our leap and get the
ball high up and into the net. I wasn't stupid for I knew that when I leapt
up, my skirt flared enough to give him a hard on inside his shorts. It was
at the end of this session that I lost my virginity.

   The school bell rang for the end of the lesson and as it was our last
one, that was it for the day.

   `Magenta,' he called out as the others began to scurry off to the
changing rooms. `Help me with the balls,' he said, as everybody had dropped
everything at the sound of the bell so there were lots of balls still
bouncing around the gym.

   `Don't you mean your balls?' I muttered under my breath, my pulse racing
at the thought that the time was nigh because he had noticed. I began
gathering up the loose balls as he did and then carried them through to the
small room where they were kept. I made sure I went in first and threw the
balls into a kind of net basket there for the purpose and slightly hitched
my skirt higher and then dropped a brooch inside the basket.

   `Ooh my brooch. I've dropped it,' I said quite loudly, knowing he was
behind me, and then leaned over to try and retrieve it, knowing that my
skirt would rise up and give him a clear sight of my bare bum, and possibly
what was beneath it. He came right up behind me and leaned over me, his
erection I could clearly feel pressing tight to my backside.

   `What have you lost?' he asked. His voice somewhat strained as were his
shorts.

   `Nothing yet,' I panted, `but if you keep sticking your dick where it
is, who knows.' He moved back ever so slightly.

   `What do you mean?' he asked, his voice now almost as strangled as I'm
sure his cock was inside those shorts.

   `My virginity,' I gasped, my legs trembling in anticipating at having
said that to him, hoping that he would let me have what was supposed to be
the ultimate for a woman. Here I was, hanging over the edge of this basket,
my bum up in the air and an erection waiting to be used behind me. `Do you
want it or not?' The answer was a slight rustle of clothes and then I felt
the head of his cock nuzzle against my sex. I prayed that it wouldn't hurt
because having the other boys only put the heads of theirs inside me, I was
wondering if I could accept that of a fully grown man.

   Then I felt the head of his cock enter me and I held on tight to the
strings of the ball cage as one hand came to my hip and he surged forward
up against me. I felt the head come inside and then reach the barrier of my
hymen and then a sharp pain as he went through it and for the first time
had a man fully enter me, filling me with a kind of power that I'd been
able to make him do this.

   Not only did I revel in having him slide right up till his thighs
reached my bum, but I was having sex in all its glory, I was being
fucked. He gasped as he entered as far as he could inside and I could feel
the twitching and throbbing of his tool right up inside me and I loved
it. I realised then that I had muscles there inside me and began to flex
them along the length of his cock and he gave another gasp and quickly
began to move because I realised later that he couldn't hold himself back
from fucking one of the best looking girls of the school.

   His arse must have been moving like a fiddlers elbow as he moved swiftly
in and out of me, his cock sliding very smoothly from my inside juices but
still had enough muscle to grip him as he shafted me.

   Too soon he pulled me tight back to him as his hips jerked and I knew he
was coming but didn't feel it as I thought I would have done. I think I was
too excited myself to notice as he heaved and pumped himself into me,
almost lifting my feet from the floor as he did so. With a final heave, he
held me tight for a moment or two before letting go of me and pulled out,
and that I found was the worst part of sex, that withdrawal. The feeling of
being bereft of what had filled a vacuum, the loss of what had almost been
a part of me, that throbbing piece of flesh that for a few moments had been
mine and mine alone. Now it was gone and I felt like crying, and I did
actually begin to sob and he thought I was crying for all the wrong reasons
and he held me tight and said that he was sorry for what he had just
done. The temptation had been so great and so forth and I realised that he
thought he had engineered this and so this guilt feeling of the male was
carefully filed away for future reference. He kissed me while he held me as
he also apologised and asked me to forgive him and not tell anyone what had
just happened. I calmed down and assured him that I wouldn't tell a soul as
long as I got an A for my efforts.

   What about the fear of getting pregnant I might hear some of you say,
well I had taken care of that by stealing half of my mother's supply of
birth control pills for the past year and took one daily in anticipation of
this event of losing my virginity.

   I finally fled from his arms and went into the girls showers and almost
sang under the cold spray as I knew now that I was really a woman. No
longer a girl, a child, but a fully grown sexually aware woman and I loved
the feeling as I danced by myself under the spraying water.

   There was no holding me back after that. I had my next cock within the
hour, and that was the black one of Basil. I collared him as he came out of
his class and led him round to the back of the cycle shed and pulled his
now erect penis out of his trousers for he knew that something was about to
happen. It did for the both of us, standing up against the wall, I gave him
a knee trembler. It was his first time at full penetration of a woman and
it was the first one I had standing up, well standing until I lifted my
legs up and let him carry my whole weight. You can take it in deeper this
way if the man's got the strength to hold you up with his cock deep up
inside as his was and he came, boy did he come. He shuddered and shook as
his load burst up inside me and then he sagged, much to my dismay as I
hadn't had enough but he was still a boy and this was his first time so I
forgave him for us finishing up in a heap on the floor when his legs gave
way.

   Over the next three months, my last at school, I think I initiated most
of the boys in their final year and when the cry went up to rally round, it
was more a play on words for the name of a certain bicycle as they got onto
my saddle and rode me. Then it was leaving time and our exam results posted
up and I came top in my class both for biology and P.T., for the last, I
gave the teacher a blow job on the cushions in that small room off the gym.

   But now I was free! Free from the restraints of school, free from being
the prisoner of my sex by being a virgin, I was free to fuck all and
everyone. My mother didn't give two shits what I did as we were virtually
two strangers living in the same house but did insist that I now paid my
own way by bringing some food into the house. This I understood, having
been fed and clothed, not the best, but what she had been able to afford,
and it was my duty to give something back by way of recompense.

   I didn't rush out to find a job because I knew that the town would now
be flooded with school leavers eager for work and would take anything that
was available. The employers knew this and offered the lowest possible wage
to all that applied for work. I let this rush go past and waited, knowing
that the right job would come up in its own good time. But we still had to
live in the meantime and I took on the task of doing the weekly shopping
for which my mother gave me the money and I found that I could save some of
this in various ways.

   To the greengrocer I gave him a hand job out back for a large basket of
vegetables. The butcher had a blow job that gave us enough meat for a month
though I didn't fuck any of them. They couldn't give me enough for what I
had between my legs and I wasn't about to become a whore and sell the whole
(pun) of my body for pennies. When I would give up my body it would be for
more than a carrot or pork sausage. I'm sure there's a pun in that too
somewhere.

   With the money I had saved on the housekeeping, I bought myself a slinky
dress and a cosmetic set, to learn how to do make up properly and not look
a frowsy queen as my mother did sometimes. But even having the goods
doesn't mean you can use them properly, so I took a job on a temporary
basis, though they didn't know this, in a beauty parlour and spent nearly
three months there, but I learned how to use and apply make up
properly. This was just the beginning for I needed to know much more before
I could hit the big time.

   I did let myself get picked up by, of all things, a straight
hairdresser. Nearly all those that I had seen before wore tight trousers
and coloured blouses and would have looked more at home in a dress and in
front of an oven than waving their hands about in the air saying the most
impossible things.

   They couldn't even speak properly in saying the word darling without
putting aitches in the wrong place, darhling being just one example, but
this Nigel was straight, well as straight as you can get a hair grip. I
think he did curve a bit but he was enough for me at the time. I'd gone
into the salon where he worked for a long overdue cut and blow dry and he
asked me to go out with him. As he didn't mince about like the others I had
seen, and knowing that he could give me some good tips on hairstyles,
agreed.

   I'll gloss over the ineptitudes that I had to overcome to have the final
satisfaction of having a cock up inside me, but fuck we finally did. He was
over the moon and totally in love with me and he was now malleable to do as
I wanted. I got him to show me how and what to use in getting the best out
of my hair and he was most disappointed when I dumped him six months
later. He cried and I felt like kicking him for sinking so low as to cry
over me and I told him that he should only cry when I leave the earth to be
put underneath it.

   He hadn't been bad in bed but I knew that there were better men out
there with bigger cocks to give me the satisfaction that I needed. I made a
mistake with the next man I took up with and took some beatings before I
knew what was what and managed to rise above it. They say violence begets
violence and so it came about.

   His name was Errol and he was nothing like Flynn because he was a
Jamaican and he threw his weight around. Six feet tall and weighed about a
hundred and eighty pounds and nearly all of that was muscle. I didn't know
that he was a small part time member of a gang at the time he picked me
up. He was a smooth talker, wore good quality clothes and handled quite a
bit of ladies fashions which was what I wanted to know about.

   It was him who hustled me up into his flat and when he stripped off
without so much as asking if I was willing to have sex, it was his
truncheon that stopped me from objecting. It was the biggest cock when
fully erect that I'd seen up to that time, so my protests died within my
throat and gladly accepted that big black fucker to do just that and fuck
me.

   It was another three months that was glorious in having this black
fucker ream me night after night in between me sucking on that black thick
tool. I got to know the garment industry and really found out that he was
ripping off the local stores and selling the stolen goods in the market.

   When I began to object to this was when he started to knock me around,
calling me white trash and kicking me saying that I was only a black man's
whore. It was this that got up my nose and didn't care if he hit me if I'd
done something wrong, but he began to like doing it and was most surprised
when I knifed him.

   Somewhere in the back of my mind I must have guessed that a situation
like this would develop, for I had bought a knife and kept in concealed on
my person. The day I used it was when we were out at one of the markets
where he'd off loaded some of his wares and when I said that I had wanted
one dress for myself was when he hit me.

   You know the saying of the last straw and the camel, well that was it
for me. I pulled the knife and stabbed him straight up into the stomach,
twisting it as it went in and twisted it on the way out. We were between
racks of clothes as I did this and he fell to the ground and writhed about
for a moment before becoming very still. I was surprised at how calm I felt
and after putting the knife away, took the dress that I had wanted and as I
passed out of the stall told them that someone had attacked Errol and he
was in a bad way at the back.

   I heard later that the stall holder and a friend had dragged his body
out and then down into an alley off the market where he was found next
day. A gang killing it was reported and that's as far as it went, though I
must say that I was treated with the utmost respect whenever I visited that
market stall again. Mind you, it was a harrowing three months I went
through afterwards. Many of the stallholders had been questioned, and even
I was asked for a statement as I'd been seen with him a few times, but I
wasn't grassed up and the terror of being found out dissipated.

   I was approaching seventeen years of age and now knew a lot about
clothes, hair dressing styles and cosmetics but it all amounted to nothing
if you didn't know how to use them properly. It was now time to learn how
to be a lady which I laugh at now because it turns out that most of them
were more promiscuous than I was.

   But it was a case of looking and learning, to watch how they behaved in
public, which I knew from books was in an entirely different way that they
would act in private, but I hadn't reached that stage yet. I managed to get
a job in the best hotel as a waitress and there I could then study those
that had money, in the way they disported themselves in a restaurant and
learn which fork to use with what meal and so forth.

   I don't know how hotels and restaurants achieve it, but the uniforms
provided are always too small, especially at the top half, but I wore what
I was given and looked a right tart and was taken for one quite often. I
got more propositions than tips and some I accepted, especially if a good
tip was given. But these were all one night stands and I did love looking
up at a ceiling when it was a big man on top trying to tell me that he was
the world's greatest lover. To me it was a passing cock for which I was
grateful but didn't get involved with any of them.

   I took all this in, in more ways than one until I was eighteen and knew
then that I could legitimately go into any club and not be thrown out
unless I was drunk and incapable. Now was the time to start putting all I
had learned into practice. I'd bought a slinky low cut black dress with
matching shoes and a blonde wig to cover my almost red hair and as I wanted
to be comfortable in what I was wearing, I left off my bra and panties.

                                                             *