/biograph/ - daily experiences

I groaned slightly as my head reminded me that I had gotten way too drunk last night. I cracked an eye open. Judging by the lack of light, it was still last night, or rather early morning.

My balls started to itch, so I scratched them for a good two minutes, and then sighed as I realized that my shaft was standing up and demanding attention. I started to shift so that I could get a better grip, but then noticed that there was a body in bed with me.

From what I could see, this was my room. The party had been at my house, thrown by my older brother while our parents were gone for the weekend. I searched my memory in vain, trying to recall what had happened. Was there a specific reason that someone was in bed with me?

There was a soft murmuring, and I could tell that the person was female. She apparently talked in her sleep. I snuggled up to her a bit, and inhaled her scent. She smelled strongly of alcohol, but also floral and feminine. Plus, there was something that was probably uniquely her.

We were now spooning – me behind her – and I realized that while I was completely naked, she had a tiny tight-fitting tank top and a pair of panties on. Sliding my hand between us, I probed her with a finger. She was so warm and wet, and the thought of being inside her made me dizzy.

I shifted her panties to the side, and moved the blankets and sheets out of the way so that I had clear and unfettered access to her. Sliding into her was surprisingly easy, and I wondered again if we’d had sex before passing out. Pulling her leg back and up over mine, I reached my hand around her body, down her stomach, and located her soft pubic hair.

It took me a moment, but I finally found her clit, and rubbed it as I thrust in and out of her. Her breathing got a bit faster, but otherwise, she was still asleep. I took my time, finding it fascinating the way her inner muscles tightened around my shaft.

She felt so good! If I had my way, we’d do this all day!

I started kissing and biting the back of her neck, and she began to moan softly in response. Her entire body got tight, and her breathing was erratic. The pressure on my shaft was intense, and I suddenly knew that I couldn’t hold back much longer.

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it all started when i was around 10. my not-all-that-present father was & still is an adamant sexist, & it was always quite obvious that my brother was his favourite. to dad, all women are "bimbos", & while he invited my brother for special "father-son" time, it was rare that he wanted the equivalent with me. i became ashamed of being a girl. i would cry & yell at my mum, blaming her because i wasn't born a boy. i felt that i was somehow less important because of what i had (or didn't have) between my legs, & felt that i lacked something (pun somewhat intended). one day my mum just turned around & yelled back "there's nothing i can do brooke! you're a girl & you're just going to have to accept it!" - luckily i did eventually.

when i was in high school i became terrified of boys. i think it was partially because they were so foreign to me - i had always gone to an all-girls school, & my dad lived over-seas & wasn't around all too much. on top of this, my mother was also fairly sexist. i picked up that all boys were "pigs" & "only had one thing on my mind" - they were sexual predators & whenever one approached me it would be with the intent of taking advantage of me. this even included my friend's dads - i couldn't be around them alone without being terrified. i used to trekk almost an hour with a heavy backpack from school, because i was scared of catching the bus - my school was next to an all-boys school, so it was usually full of boys. it was crazy.

it was when i was about 16 that i picked up all this feminist bullshit. i was a victim of men - their prey. all any man wanted to do was to use me as a sex toy, & rule over me - they expected women to be submissive. men considered me inferior because i was a woman, & i had to do everything i could to prove that i was just as capable. they didn't consider me a person, & they would only spend their time on me if they thought getting into my pants would be the outcome.

then one night, over a dinner conversation, my brother said to me "you know what brooke, for someone who claims to be so against sexism, you're pretty sexist". i found that strange - i only ever considered sexism in regards to women. the idea that it could apply to men was so foreign to Post too long. Click here to view the full text.