Being a virgin at 20 didn't make Chelsea a prude, but she was definitely in the minority amongst her peers.
She was sitting in her room, musing on why "it" hadn't happened yet and could definitely come up with a few reasons, none of which were the traditional ones. No, she wasn't saving herself for marriage - god that could be years from now -- or never! Neither was she waiting for just the right guy -- at 20 she was pretty sure he didn't exist.
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They'd been our neighbors for over 9 years. We'd both moved into the community when it was first built, and watched as it filled out and grew, as did our children, moving up from elementary school through middle school and into high school.
We were as close as most neighbors could be, easily at home with each other, free to come and go in each other's yards and garages, and even into the house. Our only child and their youngest, Cory, were only a year apart.
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18 year olds, Phillip mused, were much easier to talk into sexual experimentation than any other legal age. Perhaps once they turned 19 they'd had enough perverse encounters with dirty old men (by which he meant 35, which wasn't all that old -- unless, of course, you were 18) to be slightly more jaded. But 18... ah luscious, innocent 18 with all it's bend-a-bility and flexibility in both mind and body.
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It was just a bit of fun. When younger the girls had set up a virginity tontine. Last virgin standing would win the biggest box of chocolate they could find.
It would have stayed that way, just a bit of fun, but for Judy. The girls were all around nineteen or twenty now, and there were two remaining contenders for the prize.
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"Student ID?"
I fumbled around my jeans for my student ID. The Indian security guard at the gate nodded as I found it and flashed it at him. "Long night at the library?" he asked casually, leaning backwards in his chair as his eyes flicked down and up again.
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Conner's rough wind worn lips pressed to her soft ones once more and she was glad for it. Somewhere inside her head a voice cried out for her to deny this monster and his desires and hers. You can't give yourself to a pirate. You can't become a pirate yourself. This has gone too far stop it while you can. The voice was small and weak and wrong. She had less of a problem letting herself be taken by a pirate then she would have giving herself over to the dirty old men in her Father's social circle.
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Jenna realized when Kat's boyfriend drove off she was alone with her friend, which made her feel slightly uncomfortable for a brief moment. At almost five foot four, Jenna was average height, blonde and buxom. Despite not being a California native, many people assumed she was a stereotypical surfer girl when they met her.
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Something very traumatic happened to me recently - something that could have killed me. Since then, I have been reliving all of the major events in my life. Fortunately, I have plenty of college friends and family to discuss things with. However, there is one event I must keep secret and anonymous.
During my senior year in high school, I was a determined, albeit slow, member of my school's track & field team.
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I lurched into my dorm room and sat heavily on my bed. Natalie looked up from her studying, and raised an eyebrow. We had only been in school for three weeks, but living together 24/7 we had already bonded as friends. She knew I was upset.
"You're back early, Emma" Natalie commented. "It's not even midnight. Did Jimmy get drunk?"
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I met Lynne for a drink after work. She said she wanted to talk to me about something which means that she more than likely has a match for me. Lynne runs a lesbian match making service. As long as both parties pay the fee for the match it is not legally prostitution. I pay a very small fee and my matches almost always pay a very hefty fee which Lynne and I split 50—50. That comes really close to prostitution and when you factor in the tips that I get, well . . . .
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