Eighteen, anal virgin, breast-gasm, vag-gasm, anal-gasm,
I waited for my newly appointed probation councillor. Tapping the desk with my idle, bored fingers. At least I no longer had to wear detention centre orange.
Please don't get the wrong impression of me despite my sassy Mohawk hairstyle. Well, hair was the one thing I had control over in this custody centre.
The 'you know you want to fuck me' style took some prep. Endless backcombing and a ton of spray. It suited my sharp, sassy face, and besides otherwise, I was all, yes sir, no sir, and three bags full sir, to ensure I was released today, three months past my eighteenth birthday. No way I could stomach doing an extra stint in an adult remand facility.
I was a victim of the system, of course. Not guilty like every other girl in the centre except those who revelled in their crimes and believed in the pecking order status.
Still, I gained inside cred because my record indicated armed frickin robbery.
Well, how was I to know about the hot date and tight jeans codpiece package I was chasing that sultry late summer Saturday night? Jarred, a guy I'd only met at the skating rink an hour before, not only had a stolen car but also a stash of nose candy and a knife. When he stopped at the liquor store, I didn't know he was getting quality leg opener booze via a robbery.
I was enjoying a great grope after some top-shelf vodka, which was fast, leading to likely unprotected sex, when the cops arrived at the local lover's lane near the lighthouse point.
Orrgh, talk about real frustration.
My pussy was left aching for action that night and the six months that followed.
Absolute bummer!
To cut the story to the missing boner, some judge in the juvie court system disliked either my shoulder tattoo, piercings, or my hair, and I got sentenced to nine months as an accomplice, not a frickin accessory, after the fact.
I had a useless court-appointed public defender; my single mum couldn't afford to pay a fat-arse lawyer.
Do the crime, do the time.
Bullshit.
I did the time.
Jarred did more, as the idiot was three days over eighteen.
But today, provided I said the right things and licked the system's arse, I'd be out the tamper-proof doors and through the razor wire, and Mum would be waiting to take me home.
I had coped well with six months of incarceration and had managed early supervised release, I hoped.
Staying shrewd, I avoided regular lesbian advances inside. I craved cock.
Okay, I admit it, I'm a cock addicted nubile!
I just had to pleasure myself on a daily or more regular basis. Boy, was I going to give myself a release present on the outside tonight. Some guy at a club wouldn't believe how easy it was to screw a chick.
God, I needed a good root.
Raw as razor wire.
My probation officer arrived.
Well, fuck was he 'good-look-in'.
Fresh out of Uni, I'd say. Just appointed? Tall, blue eyes, chiselled chin, fit and cute hair. Swept back and neat.
I liked guys who looked after their hair.
Yeah, the ape drape, the flamboyant larrikin mop, had started my evening with Jarred, a rare dude who could swagger a mullet without looking a dickhead. Though he turned out to be one!
Okay, I'm a sucker for good grooming on a male.
"I'm Stewart, Stewart Parnell and well, Ms Haines, Janella," he said, looking at the front of my file in his hand; he was being sure, "I just need to have a conversation with you, and then if the responses are fine; you get released on conditions, okay?"
"Uh-uh," I said; I could tell he was slightly nervous.
He hadn't done this before.
It was nice to think I was his first.
"So, you have somewhere to stay, your mother's, correct? You don't need a halfway house?"
"No, my mum is having me back, Mr Parnell," I said across the small table as he sat down.
"Right, oh, and don't be formal. Call me Stewart. Your mother is collecting you outside the centre today; on release, so you don't you require transport to town?"
"Yeah, she's collecting me, waiting now."
Like I was hinting, let me sign, and let me go.
"Look, Janella, you have had a clean sheet inside and, frankly, no priors before the car theft and armed robbery, but I need your assurance that you will be good on the outside."
Here we went with the societal — you must be a good girl.
The detention centre's female Governess had bashed my ears for hours on model behaviour to secure my release.
Yeah, I was good on the outside. I was very good-looking on the outside, and under my clothes, I was even better when filled on my insides.
Hell, I was itching for a fuck.
Maybe some dude was getting his brains screwed out before lunchtime.
But I was polite and said, "Yes, the governess, Ms Lord, has taken me through the consequences of not behaving myself in the community."
"Right, so you will report to me weekly once you get a schedule at Technical College. I'm pleased you are enrolling in hairdressing. However, you mustn't associate with known felons, okay?"
Well, the keyword here was known.
As if I was going to ask every guy I screwed over the next few days, and I was planning on my fair share to make up for six months cock abstinence; Um, do you have a record?
Of course, I said, "I get that one. Stay away from the bad boys, yes, sure."
Bad boys. God, I was going for the most bad-arse prick I could find.
Mmm, a prick in my arse sounded really good.
"Okay, Janella. I need a few of your signatures countersigned by me, and I'll take you through admin, collect the rest of your personals, and get you to your mum, okay? You'll need to come here as I have to witness your signing, okay?"
I nodded and went around the table.
As Parnell read, I signed, and he signed.
It was a total bullshit signing: You have been treated fairly in the centre. Your rights were never violated. I wouldn't violate my parole conditions. I would meet regularly with my parole officer.
"All done," said Parnell.
And believe me, I was ready to go. I was heading into town after my mum's place — for a fuck.
I got up too quickly.
Brushed Parnell.
He dropped the pen.
We both bent to pick it up.
Our legs collided. Our torsos pushed into each other. Our faces grazed as we rose erect.
One of my hands flicked back my wavy, punk, boofy hair, which had fallen over my face.
My other hand cupped his cock package.
My tongue swept into his mouth.
His tongue twisted and curled into mine.
Put my uncontrollable lust in context, please: I was a man-starved, a young female getting out of Juvie.
So, of course, I was a goner for the first dude who touched me or I touched!
Sure, my groping unfolded ridiculously recklessly, but nothing stops the hottest sex once it gets underway.
I mean, I faced more gaol time, and Stewie would have lost his job and… Fuck getting caught…we were caught in each other's body.
His pants were down around his ankles, and his boxers followed suit. He had a cute cock. I mean, any cock looks cute to a girl who hasn't had one for six months.
I slurped his glorious flesh stick straight into my mouth.
Quaffed pecker.
Indulged my face hole.
Gulped his cock to my throat's limit.
Sloshed saliva along his shaft.
Twisted my tongue around his engorged knob.
I gobbled cock.
His back arched. He was happy. I was ecstatic, propelled by instinctive enthusiasm.
I stopped to fondle his balls and give him the message: "Just having your cock in my mouth makes me so fuckin wet."
Still, I couldn't resist licking his arse.
At this point, he represented the system!
Then, I was sucking his cock with gusto till I let him skull fuck me.
And boy, oh, boy, did a meat stick jagging into my throat activate me.
His hands cradled my head, and he pile-drove his cock through my accommodating oval-shaped lips, directly to my tonsils.
I was his instant sexual goddess.
He held my head, banging his cock into my mouth. My head was bobbing and jerking, and well, basically, was being tugged and wrenched by his manic handling of my skull.
I had to stop him before he exploded with pleasure in my mouth.
I slowed his pace by raking my nails along his perineum.
He just groaned.
I said: "I want to be your fuck slut, your skank tart, your trollop, your easy lay wench, but first, lick my pussy, spit on my pussy, slurp and lap my pussy."
Did I say slow the guy down?
He violated my clothing; he was brusque with my black thin shoulder strapped t-shirt, red bra, faded jeans and black panties.
I succumbed, uncovered and exposed.
The quickest strip search of my life.
My body craved touches everywhere. Every part of me wanted a male on it, preferably in it.
Cock lust.
My fulsome boobs got his attention as he eased me onto the meeting room desk. My paperwork was scattered on the floor.
I wasn't worried about my mum waiting outside — this afternoon — tonight — or tomorrow. My body had a guy right now.
Carnal thirst dictated my direction.
My tits and nipples were worked a treat by his hands and tongue.
"Orrgh shit yeah… that's good… that's really good…oh …my…oh yeah…mmm," as my nipples were sucked.
Sucked is a goddamn understatement!
My teats were raised like skyscrapers out from my body. Treated oh so right.
Squeezed. Licked. Lapped and basted in spit.
Pinched and nibbled.
Then, the same but faster and intensified. Then my boobs and teats were cupped and kissed.
It was like the bastard knew I was sex-starved.
Well, actually, the prick did.
He licked one nipple and massaged the other. Over and over. Near perfect equal attention to both. I got the quaky shakes through my body like an orgasm…I think I had my first breast-gasm!
I know that as the lewd bastard went down between my manicured brunette pubes, he intended to give my clit the full girly climax it so richly needed from a guy.
Everything needing his attention lay prominently spread, and so, so sensitive.
My exposed petal pink labia, my ridgy lips leading, nay, signposting my clit, where my clitty sheath was sucked up by his tongue, drawing up my engorged private personal pearl.
My little angel bud soared, and I burst with joy.
"Ooh fuck yes, ooh, fuck me, that is good, so good, yeah, so good, ooh, ooh, ooh!"
He was slow and teasing, then fast and direct. I was a swollen mound of desire.
My clit arched to his tongue tip like a pyramid to the sun.
Then he was eating me out. The whole expansive lick and slurp.
As I moaned, his tongue tip got my clit repeatedly.
Flick. Flick. Flick.
"Aah, yes, right there, fuckin stay there, for fuckin eternity, well at least the next few minutes. Ooh, yes, ooh, yes, ooh, orrgh, yes!"
Fuckin girly rapture.
Clitty explosive bliss.
I arched and pressed into his tongue tip. I wanted more. I grabbed his head.
Yeah, I was cumming.
I tensed. I screamed. I exploded.
"ORRGH!"
So loud it reverberated in my head, boomed around the small room, and made the goddamn Venetian blinds flap and the sunlight glinting on the razor wire fence outside sparkle on the sparse white walls.
Tempered after a sigh.
Oh shit, I thought we were fucked if someone in the admin corridor heard me?
The bugger Stewart was manic after my effusive, pent-up-for-the-ages orgasmic screech!
He didn't give a fuck about the outside. He was mesmerised by everything inside!
My insides!
His cock poised over my sopping pussy, and then I was fucked to pieces.
"Sweet Jesus, yes, yes, yes," I mouthed in pitched yelps as my wetness greeted erect within me.
My pussy squelched, splished- splashed excess juice, squirted cum over my bum, and girdled pecker in a muscle-squeezing daze.
I enjoyed every super penetrating thrust. Well, my legs were wrapped around his back. I delivered my frickin all, so spread — I might as well have been in birth stirrups.
Stewie wanted me to be a good, good girl. Hell, I was being an absolutely very good girl for him and myself.
Cock, beautiful cock. Fat, hard, deep cock.
Slow exploration mixed with jackhammer pounding.
Fuck, I loved cock in me.
Our carnal connection raced to complete.
Well, I was fem-sated.
I mean, I'd had a boob-gasm, experienced explosive clitty detonation and a pussy shaggin'.
I sprinted to my first vag-gasm.
"Oooh, shit, ooh hell, oooh, yes, oh yes, ooh, oohh, OOHH!"
Hey, I was utterly sex-starved of pecker for six months.
My cunt trembled and clenched his cock. Fuck it was intense. My body throbbed everywhere with spikes of pleasure.
I could crave no more.
"Aah, yes, ahh yes, aah, aah, "as I soaked every delicious after-wave additional, petite, contracting climax and embraced the euphoria retained from the zenith, verily the acme of my sexual heights.
But I got more, anyway.
Woohoo, hot-diggity-dog, kick-ass and cowabunga!
Parnell navigated me over, my arsehole exposed between my butt cheeks on the edge of the desk.
My balloon knot indulged in a super-sensory erotic encounter with his tampering tongue tip. Around and around my pucker, a perfect tossed salad. A saliva slurp slurry as he delved, up and down and all about, in and out of my tongue-punched, peachy, passionate hole.
"Oh, fuck yes…oh fuck…you dirty prick…oh fuck …yes…yes…yes…"
Well, he was poking his tongue into my gaped arsehole. He was a good half-inch in. Then, probing the limits!
"Oh shit…you bastard, you filthy bastard, but don't stop, you dirty, dirty boy."
His finger, then two, crowded together in my tight arse cavity, and their hooking and crooking had me ecstatic.
Then he blew air up my arse.
No fuckin' kidding! A filthy, riveting divine wind!
My mouth went kamikaze, "Ram, my arse, crack my fuckin' backdoor!"
He elevated my salacious and lewd impatience.
Stewie blew and cunningly interspersed daubing basting and soused licks.
So soothing. So dirty. Alternate licks and blowing. Broad, flat tongue strokes, followed by his precise delving tip.
Parnell may have been new to his job, but the savvy cunt knew girly arse satisfaction like an expert.
"Please, please, please, screw my arse… PLEEAAAASSSSEEEEE,"
Okay, I begged.
Righty-oh, I confess, my anal virginity.
I had set my sweet eighteen-year-old rilled target hole on a buggerising filling John Thomas!
Believe me; my arse flexed over prepped
Yet, yes and no.
Ready, as in, my rilled raw perfection was perfectly anointed in spit for cock.
But the addictive instance of my pink starfish expanding for pecker, no.
The burrowing push, the expansion, the clasp and the constriction fuckin sucked my breath away.
The acceptably invasive dominated my entity.
Well, actually, my flamin' pierced arse!
Parnell pushed into me. I grimaced but fuck meat, burgeoning hard, stiff, man-meat filled my aching corn-hole.
In pure tramp fixation with cock in my arse, I backed my body onto his thick schlong.
He pushed. I backed up. He bulldozed.
I jostled my buttocks into his pubic bone. He railroaded my tiny crack, hands on my hips. I flexed my rump and pegged his pecker in my rear cavern.
Anal sex catapulting to the surreal.
Surely my strained, taut arsehole would burst, but it gave and held in a staggering unreal tightness.
Fuck, my arse felt great with cock buried beyond the unseemly.
I pushed like I was pushing his dick out as he pushed in.
Internal bliss.
As I bore backwards, my inner muscles eased.
Suddenly, my winking wazoo was fully gaped and gawped, pounded by a throbbing, thrusting, triumphant cock.
"Oh fuck…that is so good …I think I'm gonna frickin pass out!"
My mind hazed. Fogged in sexual delirium. The pinnacle held breathtakingly.
My arse's fuckin divine moment.
Somehow, my cunning brain guided my fingers to squeeze my clitty. So sensitive.
But hey, I jetted beyond typical excitement.
I could feel a super powerful peaking coming, but it wasn't my fantastic sensitive clitty. It was my relaxed arse.
Tingly and clenched, beyond my control — an anal-gasm.
Fuckin incredible rear contractions.
"Orrgh, my arse, my beautiful arse, ooh yes, ooh yes, fuckin yes, Arragh!"
My arse tensed and flexed. I felt his cock stiffen, surge and jag.
Yep, he frickin creamed my butthole.
In my euphoric release, I gushed—a fem-cascade squirt.
A slosh and plash of girly juice streamed forth, raining before trickling in a splattered delta.
My thighs sparkled wet with the dribbling secretions—my liberated gratifying droplets of satisfaction.
I collapsed.
Give me a break.
My body felt like jelly.
It was a messy and challenging cleanup.
My paperwork looked like it had survived a fire sprinkler malfunction.
Watermarked with jizz and girly cum stains.
Juvie paroled me a few minutes later.
Stewie adroitly told the office lady, I cried tears of contrition over the form.
More importantly, I was fully sexually released as Stewie escorted me past the razor wire.
My mum, who had waited and waited, said to me as we drove off, "He looks too young to be a good parole officer. He's another inexperienced appointee like your court lawyer. How will you cope?"
She sighed and gripped the steering wheel, looking at the long, straight road heading back into town.
Cope with Stewie!
I knew Stewart would be the perfect parole officer, and I couldn't wait for my weekly sessions to commence.
Oh, come -on, whom was I lying to?
Stewie and I had already arranged a hook-up for tonight.