Carrie Minberg, Female, 18

	- Narrator, high school senior

	- Beige, freckled skin, 5'6, 135lbs, curly back-length dark-red hair

Rhodes, Male, 18

	- High school senior

	- Tanned beige skin, 5'11, 160lbs, golden-blonde wavy/curly shoulder-length hair

Kona, Female, 18

	- High school senior

	- Rich brown skin, 5'9, 155lbs, dark-brown/black silken hair

I had two one-night stands with classmates during the first semester of my senior year. They both taught me lessons about which things I liked but were not so easily shared with others. Not a terribly fun lesson for a girl who, you know by now, was very sexual and liked to explore.

The summer before, I'd rediscovered something I loved when I was with Camila. She'd been the first to run her fingers around my butthole, and though at first I clenched up with the contact, eventually I started to enjoy the way it made me shiver. Camila worked a fingertip in me one night, and I had a tremendous, deep-rolling climax that way. I started to do it to her, and she loved it, wanted my finger deep inside her the first time. She came as hard as I did.

We didn't always play with each other's asses, but it was a fun change of pace that we did often. We started licking each other there, and I admit that I was turned on to find that I actually liked the flavors I sometimes licked from Camila's anus. It was dirty, and it made her squirm. I loved it.

So during my summer of masturbating celibacy, I'd started to finger my ass sometimes, got good at taking two. I learned how to clean myself out so that there were no brown streaks or overwhelming odors, though smells were usually there, even if light. It didn't necessarily arouse me to smell my own ass, but it didn't disgust me either.

I fingered both holes sometimes, but it was harder to cum for some reason. Almost too much stimulation, I guess. But I did that too, and would whip one hand or the other to my clit when the timing was right.

My first one-night stand was with Rhodes. He was a wanna-be Adonis type. Lifted weights, had golden locks to his shoulders. He had a six-pack and a nice smile, and I'd always found him attractive. We were at a party, hosted by a friend with parents out of town, sometime before Thanksgiving. He and I ended up talking a lot and got each other shots of rum the host's parents had handy.

We ended up talking in a bedroom. I suppose I'd helped steer us there, but I was drunk and I can't say for sure who lead who. But I wanted him, and I felt great. The rum had me buzzing and loose, that term again, and I had a hot guy on a bed.

I made the first move physically, locking lips with him and meeting no resistance. Rhodes took charge and I let him, his strong arms laying me back and quickly pulling down my panties. I thought he intended to eat me immediately, but he instead rose over me and pulled down the top of my dress, revealing my round, firm breasts. He sucked my nipples and caressed me, said wonderful, pleasant words as sighs, “ohh, Carrie.... these are wonderful... wonderful...”

Rhodes was a giving lover, I knew it quickly. His hands were reading my body like braille, every shudder interpreted correctly. By the time he finally slid between my legs and parted my thighs, I could feel wetness running down my crack.

He lapped at me like a gentleman. It was polite, direct, made me feel delicate without making me feel fragile. It hit all the right spots, even if it was measured and predicable. I came quickly, and he didn't stop licking. A second orgasm built suddenly, my hips rose up, I felt pressure in an odd place, but he wasn't stopping, licking, licking, tasting me, fingers slipping in, him tasting my juices, and I lost myself in a powerful climax.

I was so caught up in my orgasm that I didn't notice him quickly pull back, missed the shocked look on his face for several seconds. I opened my eyes to see Rhodes, mouth closed, a bitter expression on his face. His cheeks were dripping fluids, and his chest was soaking. I knew immediately it wasn't sweat, saliva, or my regular juices.

“You pissed on me, Carrie! What the fuck!”

“I-I...” I didn't know what to say, embarrassed, tense, horrified that I'd pissed on him. He just sat there, between my knees, staring at me in confusion.

I tried again, “Rhodes, oh god... I'm so sorry... sometimes... I do that... I'm so sorry, oh god. I'll wipe you.” I jumped to grab a towel but he beat me to the door and shut himself in the bathroom. Shame washed over me, a feeling I'd not experienced in a long time. I fixed my clothes and disappeared into the yard to collect myself.

I tried to calm down, considered what to say to Rhodes. I didn't know enough to know if it was piss or squirt, didn't know that squirt was a thing, then. I just knew it had felt good the few times I'd done it to myself, and I'd lost the concern about holding it back. I let go all over Rhodes' body, and I tried to tell myself everything would be fine.

Everything was not fine, but it could have been a lot worse. I caught a ride home not long after I returned to the party, and I didn't see Rhodes again that night.

For the rest of the weekend, I was deeply depressed, though again, the anti-depressant helped it keep from sinking deeper. When I saw Rhodes again on Monday, he pulled me aside and apologized. I had so many of my own ready to come out that I wasn't prepared for his.

“I'm sorry, Carrie... about the other night. I shouldn't have freaked like that... it just... surprised me, that's all. Didn't mean to make you leave like that.”

I was speechless, a condition I found gets better over time. Then, though, I had nothing. And for a moment, he took that to mean I hadn't accepted.

“I know, I know... It was shitty to react like that. Maybe... Maybe... if you forgive me... Maybe you wanna try again?”

I just nodded my head, unsure how to respond.

Rhodes and I were ok, after that, but the moment was just never right to take a second shot at our intimacy. The first time with him left me unwilling to risk him again, even if I know now it might have been very different, and very pleasant had I tried.

We passed beyond Thanksgiving, and we took a senior field trip a couple of weeks before the holiday break. Kona and I had been friends since my earliest weeks at Natural Law. Never lovers, not yet, but I'd found her attractive and more than once considered asking her on a date. I didn't know if she was gay or bi. The few times I'd brought up sex with her, she turned brownish-red and wanted to change the subject. She was otherwise quiet but thoughtful, and she'd been a good friend to me at times.

Kona's Pacific Islander roots made her exotic to me. Beautiful, she had warm skin, wore no makeup, was taller than most of our classmates, rounder breasts, rounder hips. She looked soft and delicious the more I got to know her, the more opportunities I had to admire her furtively.

We sat together for the busride. Michael was on, as was Rhodes, but I'd made peace with them by that point, considered them friends, and ignored the occasional moments when I thought about having sex with one of them.

Kona and I shared a two-twin bed room at a small lodge. We were spending the weekend learning some basic marine biology and had some personal time to enjoy the natural lake and trails in the reserved, locked off section of the National Park.

Friday night, we both climbed into our beds with a 'good night' and a 'good night' returned, and I curled up for sleep. I often had trouble getting to sleep. All my life, even now, it caused me to lose a lot of hours with my mind racing. That night was one of those nights.

One of my tricks that sometimes worked was to practice steady, deep breaths. I tried it then, went several minutes, relaxed, but not asleep.

Movement in the other bed drew my attention. For a moment, I thought Kona had just shifted a bit in her sleep. Instead, the softest of sighs came out, and I could see movement under the sheets with the moon shining in the two windows.

I listened, very aroused, never before had I had a chance to listen while someone masturbated nearby. My hand found my puss and I slowly touched myself as I heard Kona's bed shift in a rhythm that marked her building pleasure.

Kona let a short, soft moan escape, focused her movements tightly. I could see enough to watch her head rock slowly back and forth as she fingered herself. Her hips rose just enough to draw up and tighten the sheets before dropping back, the profile of her diddling hand visible again.

My clit was hard and I was wet. I massaged my nub to her sounds, and when her stiffled moan marked her orgasm, I dipped two fingers into my pussy. Kona grew quiet as her euphoria washed in, and I worked myself up quickly. I tried to be quiet, but later I would find out that she heard me and listened while I came.

I bucked as lightly as I could, sending drooling cum into my panties. I sucked on the hem of my pajama sleeve to try to avoid moaning, but it only partially worked as my climax sank in. I fell asleep with my hand on my bush, and I'm sure I dreamed about making love to Kona all night.

- - -

The next morning, we greeted each other normally, no sign of her awareness of our shared play on her face. We washed up, and I saw her naked for the first time. Her brown skin glistened and I felt myself growing the urge to diddle my clit. She cleaned up quickly and I only had short glances with darting eyes to admire her full, heavy boobs and the thick hair above her slit.

After she left, I rubbed one out quickly in my favorite leaning position, then washed the signs of my pleasure from my genitals and thighs.

- - -

We were out by the lake, taking a break for lunch when Kona pulled me aside and we talked quickly in the tree-line.

“Carrie... were you awake last night... uh...?”

“Ummm... what do you mean?”

“You know... I think you were...”

“Maybe... maybe... what do you mean, specifically?”

“Don't make me say it. I won't say it.”

“While you played with yourself, you mean?”

She blushed her brown skin and smiled in a way that acknowledged I was right. I said, “Yeah... yeah, I was... Sorry, didn't mean to...”

“Ok... I had to know... It's been killing me all morning... sorry, I shouldn't have, not with you there...”

“No problem... I... uh... I did it too...”

She grinned, “I know... I heard.”

“Sorry.”

Kona shook her head, said, “don't be. It's ok, really. I didn't mind.”

I felt aggressive suddenly, the slightly open door too obvious to ignore. “Didn't mind, or... or liked it?”

“God, Carrie. I dunno...”

“Well... I liked it... it felt good, right? I know that feeling.”

She nodded, said nothing, I continued, “listen... I'm not ashamed, ok? Not ashamed to do it, or to hear you do it... and... like I said... I liked it, with you... something to share with you, you know?”

Something in that broke down the Great Wall of Barriers that had kept Kona from addressing sexuality with me. She gushed forth. “I've never had sex, Carrie, never. I've just... done what I did last night... Is it true? You've... you've had sex... with girls?”

I was taken aback by that last clause. I'd already filled my mind with responses to the 'Loose Girl' propaganda, but I didn't know that my relationship with Camila had become known at Natural Law. “Uh... Y-yeah... yeah...”

“Ok... That's cool, really. I haven't...”

She just left that opening hanging there for me to take. And take it I did.

“Kona, it's really special, two girls... Tonight... you wanna?”

“Wanna...?”

“Be with me... I'd really like that...”

She hesitated, uncertainty and nerves showing through. “Uh... Yeah... Uh... Maybe... Maybe, I dunno, Carrie, you know? Maybe...”

I instinctively pulled her in for a hug, and I know that embrace sealed the deal in Kona's mind. Our breasts pressed together, and I felt her hard nipples pushing though her bra and her t-shirt. We hugged a moment, pressed my stomach into hers, and held her in my arms, her skin flushed and warm, in a way that made clear that much more was waiting for her that night, if only she had the guts to welcome it.

The rest of the day I spent with my mind on Kona. It wasn't love, I knew enough by then to recognize those tugs. But I liked her, and I was very sexually attracted to her. I wanted to taste the brown-skinned girl, to be the one to make her cum instead of her fingers. I was wet all afternoon, but I didn't give in to the urge to masturbate a second time that day.

We didn't talk more about it until we'd retired after supper and a late-night lecture. We both were tired, but I was too hungry for her to give up that easily. We both had showered and put on pajamas separately and we each sat on the edge of our beds, kicking our feet, silent, buzzing with nerves and excitement.

I saw on her face what decision she'd made, and she just waited on me to make the first move.

I did.

“Yes?” was all I said to her, my eyes and my body saying much more.

She nodded once, replied, “yes.”

I moved to Kona then, took her in my arms. I was in charge, the submissive girl unsure what to do, never before enjoyed a man or a woman consuming her body. I knew what to do, though, and I soon had her clothes off, sucking on her tight, dark nipples. Kona moaned, a bit stiff at first, but becoming more welcoming of my touch with each tickle of her stomach, every bump of my tongue on her flesh.

I worked my way down. Her legs spread on their own, and I inhaled Kona's feminine odor, her arousal, her nerves, they whirled into to me, played into my nose, and I immediately lapped her vulva.

Kona's body rose to that first touch, her nerves left behind, her reactions based on the pleasure of my tongue. I loved that feeling, that raw power which derived from making another person feel so good. Kona's body was so warm as I ran my hands on her legs, her thighs, her stomach.

Kona's vagina was small, and one finger stretched her tight hole. I felt her barrier partially covering it, so I drew back and didn't try to stretch her enough to break it. Not without asking. My tongue on her clit, my finger in her puss, Kona cried out and came on me.

I rode her as she climaxed, her writhing form trying to scoot away. I licked her slower, lapped up her cream, let her body fall back and relax.

She lay there breathing a moment, but I wasn't done with her. “Will you lick me?”

Kona didn't say anything, but she rolled up as I lay back. Her lips were already wet, her mouth agape, her eyes dilated, the girl lost in the pleasure and the exhilaration of her first sexual experience with someone else.

Her tongue was tentative, undecided, but it felt good on my pussy. It had been way too long since I'd known a woman's mouth on my puss, and I vowed not to go so long before the next. I held Kona's head, tried to help her find my rhythm. I felt the urge to squirt rising up seconds after a finger found my hole and slipped inside. I was able to push it down and my orgasm quickly built and consumed me.

I came hard on Kona despite her uncertain movements. It was enough to feel her tongue on my clit, to see the beautiful brown eighteen-year old's face between my thighs, tasting me. She stopped licking and stared at my crotch as I orgasmed, and I enjoyed the way she looked there with such interest.

I had her on her back again before long, and soon she was writhing into her second orgasm. She looked tired, but I was still horny, and got on my hands and knees.

I pulled her to her knees and guided her hand to my vagina. She slipped in a finger, I breathed back, “put in another.”

She did and it stretched me, her hand finding a better rhythm in that position. I was getting really hot, wanted her to do something only one person had ever done to me. “Put a finger in my ass.”

Kona froze even as I rocked against her. It took a few humps to notice, but when she pulled out and sat back, it was clear I'd crossed something with her.

She wore the same expression, a curious, longing look, but when she spoke, it was clear we were done. “Your butt? Ew... no... no... I don't want to do that.”

I turned around, angry at myself for asking for it. I hugged her and she held onto me lightly. I told her, “ok, no... you don't have to. I didn't mean it, just something I thought I might like... no biggie.” Another lie but one of the few that seemed to have no obvious consequences.

She didn't say anything else and I offered to help clean her up. We snuck to the shower and she let me wash her, even did the same for me.

Back our room, she climbed into bed quickly and said, “good night, Carrie... thanks...”

I wasn't clear about what 'thanks' meant, but I accepted it and went to my bed.

I was aggravated with myself, small amounts of shame and embarrassment fighting to bubble into a serious loss of confidence. I managed to catch sleep before it could build and grow worse in my mind.