EIGHT VIRGIN

his week, I'm still not sure who or how, I'm going to 
get number nine and be ahead of my stinky brother. 
He's got eight red dots on his dashboard, symbols of 
the eight virgins he's deflowered, although I suspect 
some of them were really sluts that lied about it. It 
doesn't matter. I just got my eighth boy, one of the 
best and I'm still a bit sore, my labia glowing with 
A&D ointment, but either Joe James or Michael Nulley 
is going to do what I demand and give me his cherry. 
I've already got both of them primed and they both 
have sizeable cocks, which is what I want and need. 
One will be nine and the other number ten. And I'm 
three years younger than my stuck-up brother and his 
big cock.

I typed number eight's info into my data base, 
estimated him at 7.5 which might be a slight 
exaggeration, and leaned back and smiled. I had been 
babysitting last night, Friday, two cooperative little 
kids, an easy ten bucks, when this tall boy came in 
the back door wearing a gray uniform, their older 
brother. I didn't know they had one.

So he saw me and stopped and blinked. That was when I 
knew I had him, right then, nailed. I know what I look 
like and how men look when they see me. He was nearly 
pretty he was so handsome, tall and lean with a close-
cropped haircut. We said hi to each other and I told 
him his folks had gone to dinner and a movie. He said 
his name was George and he went to a military school 
on the edge of town, out in the sticks, stayed there 
all week. "I just got promoted," he said proudly, 
"first sergeant. And we're free this weekend, until 
Monday morning."

I hugged him and kissed him hard and leaned back in 
his grip, our bellies mashed together, and said, 
"Congratulations." I could feel his cock hardening. 
Well I'm, let's admit it right now, pretty exiting to 
look at, jailbait my daddy calls it. I wriggled and he 
took his hands away, mouth hanging open. He let me go, 
blushed and said he was going to go take a bath and go 
to bed.

"Need any help?" I asked.

He ran up the stairs.

I straightened up the mess I'd made with the kids, 
waited a few minutes and when I heard the water stop 
running, quietly went up the stairs and waited in the 
hall, feeling my belly quivering, my pussy leaking. In 
a minute he came out naked, rubbing his hair with a 
big towel, and I squealed.

He turned toward me and dropped the towel. Obviously, 
he had been playing with it. And it was a beauty 
sticking straight out from his well-muscled body, 
prime, at least a half-foot of rigid boy member.

In the last year and a half I've become something of a 
connoisseur of cocks, and most times I can judge 
length and girth with just a glance and usually 
estimate endurance as well when I see them jump or wag 
about. I just the love the up-curved ones but the 
straight-out horns were OK too. I really can't tell 
you how many I've handled.
George's was kind of thin but it was curved and 
pointed upward, and I smiled and licked my lips, 
planning on at least three sweaty couplings, one with 
me on top. I sure hoped he was cherry. He looked it, 
shocked and embarrassed.

I walked across the rug in the dark hall, rolling my 
hips and tensing my chest muscles as he reached down 
to pick up his towel and hold it to his belly.

"You look so good, George, really good," I told him. 
And he did, thin but well-muscled, a handsome, well-
groomed kid who was about to get the thrill of his 
young life. "I just love your muscles, especially that 
long one."

He nodded and ducked into his room and closed the 
door.

I laughed and followed, then leaned back against the 
closed door and stripped off my clinging polo shirt. 
He stood there frozen so I stepped right up to him 
smiling, my boobs jiggling, my big nipples hard and 
pointed up at him. He made some funny noises in his 
throat, gulped and swallowed.

"Have you ever done it?" I asked sweetly as I grabbed 
his towel and tossed it away behind me. I always 
check. I've humped a couple of dozen guys who were not 
cherry, but right now it's virgins I want. I just love 
teaching them and breaking them in and being their 
first. It's extra exciting, the cherry on top if you 
don't mind the pun.

His mouth fell open and he shook his head; his eyes 
were riveted to my breasts, but his cock floppy 
limply. I think he might have been drooling. My tits 
are worth drooling over, especially when my fat 
nipples get excited. I lifted one and licked it. He 
whimpered and backed up. His prick was, I was glad to 
see, alive.

"Did you come in the shower, jerk off?" I asked calmly 
as I stepped toward him, reached out and grasped the 
head of his trembling penis. It was firm and warm; it 
filled my palm, and I grinned at him, twisting my 
fingers around the flange as if I were going to 
unscrew it.
He shook his head and gulped as I stroked down the 
hardening shaft and then back up a couple of times. I 
had been right, six or seven inches and decent width, 
like the handle of an aluminum bat.

"Well you don't want to come too quickly, do you, so 
let's take care of that." This was a lesson I learned 
early on. I've had virgin boys ejaculate before they 
got it all the way into me and cry like babies in my 
arms as they begged me not to tell on them so I always 
want my lovers to have come at least once recently, 
and blow jobs, while they aren't my favorite activity, 
do the important task of priming those testicles. Most 
young men are multi-orgasmic and have short recovery 
times, but one of my eager virgins rolled over and 
fell asleep after humping me just once. I kicked him 
in the balls before I gave up on him and don't even 
count him in my eight.

I held back my long, blonde hair and bent at the 
waist, giving him a first class look at my dangling 
boobs and then I licked around and sucked in his hard-
ridged glans and reached down to grasp his dangling 
scrotum and squeezed firmly. His nuts felt like golf 
balls. He squealed and arched when he came, and I 
swallowed down his jerking explosions of jism, rich 
and sticky as they were, just a bit salty but very 
generous outpourings. I swallowed and stood up 
straight, smiling, with goo on my lips.

I shook back my hair and licked my lips, getting it 
all in, and smiled at him and then kissed him and 
tongued his mouth giving a taste of his own cum. I 
could feel his cock trapped between us and getting 
hard again, fully aroused which is how I wanted him, 
eager for friction.

He looked at me dumbly, shaking his head. "I've never 
done it," he gasped as I griped his long prick firmly, 
feeling it pulse and harden, the tube on its base 
going quickly rigid, his balls tensed up tightly in a 
sack the size and shape of a baseball.

'That's Ok," I told him. "I have and it's natural, 
normal, nothing to it. And it's fun." I took his hand 
and led him to the bed. "Let's start here with you 
behind me." I faced the bed, leaned over and spread my 
long legs. "Now step right up and put it in. OK?" I 
could feel my outer labia fluttering and dripping. I 
reached between my legs and spread my lips to make it 
easier.

He made funny noises but got right up behind me and 
laid his cock in my butt crack. "Where?" he asked, his 
voice cracking. 

"Bend your knees," I told him, holding back a curse. 
He was maybe six feet tall and I'm only five-eight but 
my legs are longer than his I think.

I reached back between my legs, grasped his blood-hot 
cock and set its slick head at my dripping folds. I 
petted it a couple of times, feeling veins pulsing, 
and stroked its length. "Now push," I told him, trying 
to relax my entryway.

In it slipped smoothly and easily, and I had virgin 
number eight.
"Good boy. Now push it up and in, deeper, much deeper. 
You can do it. Hold my hips if you want or grab my 
jugs." He whimpered but he shoved it up into me and 
filled me.

"Oh, oh, oh," he sobbed as he sank up into my clinging 
depth inch by wonderful inch. I gave him a couple of 
ripples and squeezed gently, not wanting to scare him.

'Yee," he cried, but he rammed onward.

"Now back out slowly and push in again, get moving." I 
reached back and slapped his butt.

It took a few minutes, but he quickly got the idea and 
pretty soon he was smacking us together, and we were 
both grunting and heaving. His cock seemed to get 
thicker as he fucked which was nice, and I could feel 
his hard balls tensed at its base as he pressed them 
to me, but then I felt him hold it deep and his whole 
young body shook as he came and came and came, filling 
me with his hot semen. Just what I wanted.

"More, more," I demanded, but he sank to his knees and 
his big rod popped out of me.

I turned and helped his stand, kissed him and said how 
well he had done, how strong and manly he was. I 
always tell them that. Then I lay back on his bed, 
legs spread and knees raised and urged him to climb up 
and mount me. "I want to see you do it, get in between 
my legs, you're so handsome, so big and strong," I 
told him. 'This is called missionary, this position."

He nodded and clambered up, his still hard cock in his 
hand and in less than a minute he was balls deep and 
wrapped in my long legs and we really started fucking. 
George bounced me off the bed, arched up and gasped 
for breath before he climaxed again and squealed with 
pleasure or relief or something.

He pulled it out and flopped down beside me, breathing 
hard, his cock still long but rather flabby.

I hurried off the bathroom and squeezed out what I 
could, washed my groin and hurried back to praise him, 
lick his prick and suck his now much smaller balls 
until I had him tense and upright. He just laid there, 
a smile on his lips as his prong stood there all by 
itself.

"Now it's my turn," I said with determination. I 
hadn't come yet, but I was sure I could bring myself 
off with his help.

I mounted gently, easing my hot body down on is iron-
hard rod, rocking from side to side and telling him 
how strong he was, how big and hard, how good, how 
brave and manly. Then I brought his big hands up to my 
breasts, leaned forward and rode him, moving up and 
down on his loins and shoving six inches or so of his 
manhood in and out of me as I ground my clit into his 
bones and coarse hair.

"Do it sergeant! Do it, hard and deep!" It was good 
and I was close.

I felt it coming deep within me, let myself down on 
his muscular body and orgasmed twice, gasping and 
groaning and, I'm sure, scaring him as I clamped down 
and my whole body shook.

I rolled off and lay beside him, well satisfied, but 
then I felt his hand exploring my body and grasping my 
breasts and then pawing my belly and probing my well-
satisfied cunt.

"More," he sighed. "More, more!"

I felt down his hard stomach and was surprised to find 
his upright cock, standing there proudly and dripping 
with my juices.

"Don't hurt me," I whispered as he rolled over atop me 
again, rose on his elbows and after several tries, 
managed to get his cockhead into my dripping slot. He 
smiled down at me. "Here he comes," the eager boy said 
as he thrust, sighed, closed his eyes and then 
collapsed, shivering and mewling. "I can't, I can't."

I left him there, face down on his bed, pulled up the 
covers, found my clothes and went back down to wait 
for the parents to return. By the time they did, my 
breathing and color were back to normal and I told 
them their son had come home and gone to bed. I was 
sore but happy.

As I said, number eight was a good one.