Diary of an Ex-Pussy

It's strange and funny: even though it's only a few years old, I look back and I don't identify with that curious, sex-hungry teenager. Not that I regret what I did and felt or that I don't want pleasure these days... but it's different. In adolescence sex occupied more than half of my thoughts. The curiosity of a first kiss and a first fuck is something that gets lost in time; it seems to have a "period of validity". At the age of fourteen, I think, I began to become more sexually attached. Certainly my sexuality had already emerged before, but it was only then that I began to pay more attention to the subject. In front of the mirror of my room I felt great pleasure in seeing myself naked or in my underpants. My body was already curved; my breasts, grown and hard, could no longer be free under the blouse, because my pointed nipples marked the fabric and drew the attention of men to my tiny nipples; my big lips had swollen and my clitoris began to lose its wonderful pink color before being replaced by a darker color, closer to the grey or purple taste. Strange sensation! At that time I mainly felt the desire to masturbate, the warmth of the body, between the legs and the beaks of the pure breast; my body was shivering. In these lonely moments of ultra-pure self-purification, I could no longer be free under the blouse, because my pointed nipples marked the fabric and attracted the attention of men to my tiny nipples; my big lips had swollen and my clitoris had become swollen, and my clitoris began to lose its pink color before it was replaced by a darker color, closer to the grey or purple taste of gray or purple. The beaches, however, showed me other beauties. Discreetly aroused, I began to notice more closely the bodies and hairpieces of men. Under the beds of the boys I began to admire rolls of different sizes, thicknesses and shapes: some were concentrated in the middle, together with the bag, which indicated very possibly a small bench and bag; others seemed more elastic, more delicate, and they began to be pressed to the left or to the right, passing through the male body. Despite the fact that there were always thin muscles, I liked faces, I liked smiles and beautiful eyes. The beaches, however, showed me other beauties. At the time of my childhood, I could not appreciate the fact that my hair was so thick, and the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thick, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so thin, and sometimes the hair was so fine. My first boyfriend, however, was Robson, a handsome playboy from the South who went to the same school as me. A year older, Robson was really a kitten. Intelligent, he started studying with me a few days a week. At that time, however, my mother, who was already noticing changes in my behavior, did not let Robson and I be completely at ease. Mother forced us to study in the classroom, so that we could not be seen. There, despite the most intense traffic of people, I could touch and be touched by a <unk> man<unk> for the first time. Under the table I could sometimes, quickly, feel Robson's melon between my fingers. Thin and relatively small (the African reference was still there), my boy's dick crawled into my wrists, stiffening and smoothing each finger. My little fingers and toes were pressed together. Apart from these "almost masturbations" on my ex-boyfriend, I had no other sexual experiences with men until the following year. Before that, however, I enjoyed a half-crazy trip with Raissa, an older friend from school. A grandmother from the southern zone, Raissa was no longer a virgin and loved to suck cock. To the extreme, the sixteen-year-old "patrician" used to pay kisses to the boys who were swimming in our club (according to her, the smell of the men's wardrobe was so exciting that she sometimes went without a bath after jumping training). At the end of the afternoon, she frequented the athletes' wardrobe to please them with warm "fists" and beautiful boobs. Only after a long time, the boy would kneel on the benches and begin to suck cock. Every afternoon, we would find about the same amount of droplets of the same size and intensity from the eight different sticks of her hair. We would wait for the same amount of time to come back. With Raissa, I locked myself in the room, because my mother felt more confident in her (Oh, my naive mother!). Eager to hear her stories, I was extremely excited by every detail that jumped out of those beautiful and delicate red lips. One beautiful day, my excitement was so great that I ended up licking a warm, wet kiss on Raissa. Correspondingly, I felt a little confused but did not hesitate to give way to my immediate desires. Emboldened in my bachelor walk, the pyre and I fondled each other intensely. Raissa, smelling the chlorine, rubbed her icy hand on my skirt while I felt the upper part of her jersey and enjoyed feeling, for the first time, her pink lips and lipstick between my body. I turned to the side of the infirmary: after so many years of kissing, Raissa continued to suck my head with a warm, wet kiss. After so many seconds of kissing, I felt a little confused but I did not hesitate to give way to my immediate desires. Emboldened in my bachelor walk, the pyre and I fondled each other intensely. Raissa, smelling the chlorine, rubbed her icy hand on my arm while I felt the upper part of her top of her jersey and enjoyed it, for the first time, her pink nippets and her pink lips, her pink and her pink lips, and her pink nippets and her pink lips. Large enough to get around the city on my own, I began to do without my mother to go to French classes, held two days a week in the center of Rio. Even though I had money for the taxi, I began to use buses, because that way I could save some more for my personal use. In the late afternoon, on Wednesdays and Fridays, the buses that went from the center to the zone used to get quite full from the Flamengo, when workers and students from the public network got into the driving. Angry with that commotion, I used to dodge the passengers until I was able to get down at a point, in my Leblon. On a beautiful day, however, I did not have a place to sit and I felt that I had to go on high during the whole trip. Gradually I got stuck between those bad-ass bodies, completely immobile from the old baggage. I sat down in front of the shopping mall, in a very uncomfortable way, just a few seconds later, and I began to be dragged away from the situation by a nervous band of black gangsters, even more nervously than my colleagues, by a small band of students, who had been dragged into the back of the bus. With a wry smile on his face, the poor man was hitting me with a certain violence, making the most of a middle-class bundle that she had probably never experienced. Initially uncomfortable with that situation, I was really surprised when my disgust for that slum began to turn into a hard-on. At that moment, flashes of thought began to invade my head: various images of pikes and slugs came to the surface. I imagined myself being invaded by a thick black pipe! Without looking back, I gradually relaxed and became more comfortable with the pressure exerted by that poor man on my cheek. The bad guy denied my excitement and began to rub himself in the most discreet way: he lowered himself discreetly and then slipped to slide up into my tail. Before he could have completely closed the rod, I was sitting in my room with my hand in my pocket, and I was afraid of my evil will: I was so full of pleasure that I could sit on the floor with my evil will! Despite the bewilderment caused by that situation, I decided to invest in the adventure. During the school days I wore short badges and lace panties, dug into the tail. On the nipples I put sticky tops, which marked well the nipples, or leather blouses, which used to give a glimpse of the bikini. Anxious for new saros, I was frustrated for a few weeks, because I did not have the luck to find the skinny cocksucker. At home, I lay under the shower thinking about that black room stuck in my juvenile doll. I told Raissa what had happened. The bitch was full of passion but did not miss the opportunity to try to meet me: - The bitch, <unk>patrician <unk>, ran away from the table with a goat with a goat's head?! Despite the fact that she was a vagabond, I hadn't even tried to sign up for the adventure until that moment, with the support of my ex-girlfriend, a white tramp from the middle class. Friday, September 14th, I finally found my hot nigger. Before I got on the bus, the bastard started smiling at me indicating that he was going to repeat the dose from the previous time. Wet with excitement, I didn't stop looking back until the nigger's son of a bitch approached me to fit his bulky dick. Squirming, he shouted with a low-pitched parachute that decided to stop behind me: - Oh, oh, parachute, bitch! Go ahead, I'm the guy! I don't really know what I had in mind! That little guy was very rude, very slum-like, and on top of that, he was full of crap. But at those times you only think about dick (as men only think about pussy). Covered by a little dress of light fabric, I was really begging to be teased that day. Under the dress was clearly noticeable the mark of a little underwear that drew a small <unk>V<unk> on my cute ass. That's right, dear reader, at sixteen years old I already had a bundle of envy to give to a very shallow woman. On top of that, I loved a dental floss nailed into my cheek. Slowly, the creole leaned forward and began to rub his semi-hard stick on my butt. The thin fabric allowed the contact to be greater, almost total. His cock just didn't point immediately to the ceiling because of the panties, which locked his erection a little, and because of my tail, because the butt got stuck under it. Pushing me towards the benches, the black bastard managed to rub the tip of the pyroconon at the entrance of my xoxota. I felt a great pressure between my legs and I realized that at any moment he and I could have fun there. Before that happened, however, I turned to him and asked: - You could sit? (One of the benches in front of our two roaming places). He answered that I would end up in a locker room. He was just fine (Peleto, more obviously, was staring at me, because the butt got stuck under it). When we got to the bench, the black bastard was able to rub the tip of the pyroconon at the entrance of my xoxota. I felt a great pressure between my legs and I realized that at any moment he and I could have fun there. Before that happened, however, I turned to him and asked: - Could you sit? (One of the benches in front of our two locker seats). He replied that I would not end up and that I was fine (Peleto the pyroconon was more obviously sticking my tail), and I was trapped under it). After a few weeks of talking on the phone, we came up with a scheme so that I could go to the funk dance that I used to go to on the weekends. Excited by the idea, I would rehearse at home, in front of the mirror, the sensual movements of the funk rhythm. With my hands on my knees, I would push my butt and start to roll sensuously. Only in my underwear, I saw myself in the mirror as a little whore who was ready to be skinned. I couldn't wait to feel that mass of flesh between my hands, in my mouth, tearing my hymen ... I felt my own little band, a little outsider with the condition of a little daddy's girl. I couldn't stand that playboy world anymore. I wanted to feel pleasure and relate to the <unk>front of those <unk>bandits. On D-Day, Raissa and I and two other friends invented for my mother that we were going to a party at the club and that we would be under the responsibility of Fabiola's brother, who was already an adult. Armed scheme, we headed to Botafogo to climb the hill and enjoy the dance. Arriving there, we found a lively atmosphere, full of men and women beautiful, hot and sexy (impressive, but I think the funk dance is the place that can gather the largest number of middle class whores per square meter). Eager to meet Leonardo, I was surprised with a hug from behind and a kiss on the neck. As usual, my brother-in-law threw me from behind rubbing his cock on my ass. Dressed in white, I was really more than gorgeous that day. Without much difficulty, everyone could see my tiny panties under the almost transparent dress; my nipples seemed to want to jump off so steeply; my nipples were indiscretely exposed under that thin layer of fabric. Dazzled by my beauty, Leo was initially a bit clumsy, but soon recovered. To the sound of the funk beat, we began to dance together in the crowd, and once again his cock petrified as it rubbed against my smooth, big, beautiful beard. Lost in his erection, we kissed passionately right there in the middle of the gallery. I don't think you'll believe it, but that was the first kiss that made me laugh! Leo had a rough and fast tongue. His kiss of cock sucked my delicate lips so firmly, so manly, that I even gave him a good laugh! After a few hugs, we moved away to a dark corner of the favela to be more at ease. If that black, skinny tara against the wall of a company of my fingers, forcing you to lift your fingers; his hands were covered in smoke! Leonardo put his hands behind my little dress and began to smell a bunch of perfumes. Before continuing, I quickly open parentheses to tell what I saw in the distance while enjoying a good joke with Leo: across the street, Raisa decided to face two little guys she met at the dance. Soon after I learned that the guys were from the "movement". Crazy was Raisa! I think she was jealous of me and decided to get two black guys to taste it. According to her account, one of them was really fucked up; his roll looked like another 300ml bottle of coke. I tried to imagine ... it was really big! But my creole didn't lose anything to those little shit dealers. Over my pants I willingly squeezed a tube of meat that must have been about 17 cm long by three fingers in diameter. Before long I was beating a handkerchief for denial and listening to their whispers: "Gossstosa! Little bitch! It was crazy to feel the power of a black cock, isn't it?! Stupid with excitement, I stooped down to let that licking go free! I pulled my fur back and caressed that purple head that was beating before my eyes for a while. At first I was only on the pacifier. I stuck my lips in my head as if I were tasting a meat lollipop! A little later, more excited, I opened my mouth more to feel half of that roll spraying on the sky of my mouth, on the walls of my cheek and in my throat. In my throat I could not stand it very well, because I felt the urge to vomit. Imagine, readers: that beautiful little face, with blond hair running back and forth, pounding a black stick. One of them shouted at Leo: "Coe, Leo, drag this bitch to your grandmother's house and beat her up!" Frightened by those words, I told Leo that I didn't want to leave. He, realizing my fear, asked me to be calm and said that we would only leave if I wanted to. He added that his grandmother's house was in the next street and that we could be more quiet, without being disturbed by the madmen of the <unk>movement<unk>. Agreeing with the suggestion, we went to the house of the lady, who was sleeping. And that's right, dear readers, I was dumped inside a favela, on top of the slab of an almost hut! Up there we continued for a while with the delicious sarcasm. Leonardo put his hand inside my panties and rubbed his thick fingers hard on the entrance of my skirt. Kissing me from the mouth to the neck, he came down a little more after releasing one of the straps of my white dress. Ahhh.... I get all wet just remembering those big kisses kissing my pink nipples; my little tit was all inside that mouth; his rough tongue surrounded the nipple tastefully; the cracked nipples did not stop on my left nipple while the right one was sucked vigorously. My hands slid from the bag to the peeler of that cute male. After all the teasing, I couldn't wait to feel the coal chest inside me. Leonardo asked if I wanted to lie down on some old cloths thrown on the floor. I preferred to stand and be deflowered in the same position in which I had met Leo. I leaned over the slate wall and pushed my tail so that that roll finally fulfilled its mission. Leonardo lifted the dress with a certain dazzle, pulled the panties back slowly (the fabric was with difficulty separating from my chin) and began to unroll the sweater on his wonderful spike. I looked back and could see the difficulty of wrapping that spike! So he tucked his head into the back of his shirt and asked: "Put it down, nice little tear! Attentive to my request (Leo showed more politeness than usual), he pulled my thighs to the sides to facilitate the opening of the zipper. At the tips of my feet, I was already beginning to lean fully on that black cock, hooked like a piece of meat in the refrigerator. Bending over me, Leonardo poked me slowly until that tube was almost all inside me. I confess to having felt a little pain, but nothing that surpassed the pleasure provided at that moment. To the sound of those pornographic funk songs, heard from a distance, I bounced in his buttocks that went in and out of the scene lapped with my joyful virgoal position: <unk>Toma, toma, toma, cap! Leo found me by the waist and sounded his red cock with a violent intensity that left me lonely. We were all crazy. Now Leo was behaving like crazy. His head was moving over his head, Leonardo poked me slowly until it was almost all inside me. I confess to having felt a little pain, but nothing that surpassed the pleasure provided at that moment. To the sound of those pornographic funk songs, heard from a distance, I bounced in his buttocks that went in and out of the scene lapped with my joyful virgoal position: <unk>Toma, toma, toma, toma, cap! Yes, dear readers, today I have a degree in medicine and a beautiful gynecology practice in the southern part of Rio. Married, I don't dare to do this craziness anymore. I don't deny, however, that I still get quite excited when I see a legion of black slum dwellers walking down the street, making the noise that only they know how to make. Send me pictures of their pearls (black or white)! In my office I will enjoy each one of them, playing a nice siren at the end of the afternoon. Who knows until I change my mind and end up awarding a gifted one again?! ♪ You're the one that I love ♪