Diary of a Loose Girl
Chapter 4: Hole

Copyright© 2015 by Chase Shivers

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4: Hole - Diary of a Loose Girl follows a woman named Carrie. From her earliest sexual experiences through her adult life, her first time, her kinks, the men and women she fucked and loved, she recorded it all in her Diary. Follow Carrie's retelling of those personal notes as she details what she tried and liked, what she tried and hated, the people she loved and lost, and what turns her on beyond imagination. Note - This story is open-ended with 28 chapters so far.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Tear Jerker   Interracial   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Teacher/Student  

Chapter Cast:

Carrie, Female, 15
- Narrator, high school freshman
- Beige, freckled skin, 5'4, 135lbs, curly back-length dark-red hair
Henri ('on-REE') LaBlount, Male, 23
- Substitute Spanish teacher
- Medium-brown skin, 5'4, 145lbs, short, straight black hair

If you've read this far, I don't need to tell you things didn't end well with Henri. No, he was never arrested, I never got pregnant, and for several years, I'm pretty sure he and I were the only ones who knew.

After our long night together, Henri woke the next morning with a different approach to our relationship. He didn't tell me anything had changed, but I felt it. There was no kiss as he rose, no soft hands over my body, he didn't even tell me 'good morning' until I said it first. He averted his gaze at times, just enough for me to know something had changed. I couldn't read his expression, but it wasn't the kind lover I'd known the previous day.

He fixed me a quick breakfast and then insisted on driving me home immediately. On the ride home, I asked him, "everything Ok, Henri? With us? When can I see you again?"

He hesitated, lied, said, "sure, all ok, Honey. Just great. Uh ... Yeah, we're great. I don't know ... uh ... maybe in a couple of weeks ... maybe then ... gonna be busy, really..."

I felt crushed. I wouldn't see my love, my lover, for a couple of weeks? That was an eternity to someone who had fallen so deeply into the relationship, who needed the reassurances that came with seeing Henri. I mumbled, "oh ... k."

"Yeah ... uh ... maybe then ... Look, Carrie ... You know I like you a lot ... but ... we gotta be careful, ok? We can't do what we did last night, not again. I'm scared to death right now that I've gotten you pregnant. Scared that you'll tell someone. Scared that I'll be put in prison. That's what they'll do, you know? Put me in prison. Can you believe that?"

I didn't reply, the swirling emotions in my head left me feeling thick. I hated what he said. I'd already told him I wouldn't tell anyone, and I meant it ... as much as any fifteen-year old girl could. I felt like he didn't trust me, that he was worried for nothing.

He continued when I didn't speak. "They will. They'll put me in prison if you tell. They will. Don't tell anyone, Ok? Please, don't tell anyone."

"I already promised you that. I promised to not tell anyone, ok? I won't. I'm not stupid."

He leaned back in his seat as he drove, then said quietly, "if you get pregnant ... I ... uh ... what will you do?"

Like I had any fucking clue what I would do. "I dunno."

"Find out first, ok? I'll give you cash, buy a couple of tests, ok? Follow the directions ... and when you find out, either way, tell me first, ok? I ... We'll have to figure something out, ok?"

I know now that 'figure something out' meant find a way for me to have an abortion without my parents finding out. Then, I just worried that I'd destroyed my life by letting my lover cum inside me. I managed a weak "ok" just before he dropped me off outside my neighborhood.

He said nothing as I opened the door and stepped out. I took a deep breath, reached for the door to close it behind me.

Henri called out, "Carrie ... I'm sorry."

And that was all.

'I'm sorry!?' What the hell was that? Sorry for what? I'd had a fantastic night with him, scary moments aside. It was a life-changing night with the man I loved, how could he be sorry for that? How could he apologize for being the first man to bring me to orgasm, the first man to fuck me so that I could enjoy it, the first person to taste my pussy, the first man to cum inside me? What on Earth was he sorry for?

That morning, I couldn't think of those responses. Only after a few days of reflection later in my life would those unspoken replies become regrets. I closed the door and started walking home. Henri sat in the car as I strolled away, eventually I heard the vehicle rev and move off and away.

It was a long walk home. The emotional confusion, not the distance. I walked slowly, my mind turning over in chaos, powerful feelings of love and hurt tore at me. He was sorry, and I didn't know why. I felt betrayed after he repeated his pleas to not tell anyone, felt horrified that he thought saying sorry was the last thing he should say to me after such a night. It had been so high and so low and then high again, I wanted to walk home on a high, but what I felt was a low.

My parents were out of the house when I came in, and I was thankful for that. I locked myself inside my room and cried for no reason and all reasons. It hurt to love Henri. I didn't know why.


It would be four very long weeks before I heard from him again. I called his number several times and got his voicemail. I didn't leave a message, just as he'd asked the first time he gave me his number. I got only his voice, in a generic greeting that did nothing to calm my nervous stomach, though toward the end of those four weeks, I started to look forward to the twenty-eight word message. Yes, I counted. I had nothing else from my lover, and sometimes I called just to hear his recorded voice.

I'd taken two pregnancy tests and both came back negative. I was dying to share the good news with him, and I felt hollow without him knowing.

I didn't know where things stood. I loved him, desperately, and looking back, I find that I have no shame over those feelings. I didn't know better, and I reacted to a man who seemed to love me, who touched me gently, who made me cum. I loved him, and for those long weeks, it only grew stronger from missing him.

School was horrible for me. My closest friends no longer hung around me or waited for me after school. The 'Loose Girl' was a pariah without direction, and I hated being around my fellow classmates. I became very withdrawn, more so to my family. My mom tried to get me to talk, but how could I tell her what I was going through? She surely believed I was a virgin, and talking to her about Henri was out of the question.

So I muddled through my life, barely getting by emotionally, my grades passable but falling. I began to hate myself, thought I'd driven Henri and my friends away. Not thought, knew I had. No one cared, not even my parents, not that I acknowledged, at any rate. I didn't masturbate, I didn't let go of my fairy tale lover coming to take me with him somewhere safe and pleasant.

I had my own phone line in the house, a blessing that I never failed to value. It rang on a Saturday afternoon, waking me from another depressive nap. I'd put on weight over that time, could feel it in my stomach. My boobs had swelled, which wasn't a bad thing, but the extra pounds left me feeling very sorry for myself, wondering if any man would ever find me attractive.

Henri's voice soothed my heartache and my self-doubt in just a few words. "Hey, Carrie ... Good to hear your voice."

I melted, shook a bit in excitement to hear from my love. I knew he'd call when he could. I excused him without a word for whatever had kept him from my life. The sound of his voice threw water on that fire. "Henri ... oh, Henri ... thanks for calling ... I've missed you so much."

"I know, Hon ... I know ... I've missed you too. Just ... just couldn't risk it lately. I've ... I've had someone staying with me for a few weeks ... couldn't risk it ... But they're gone now ... and ... can you get away for a little bit tonight? I'd love to see you."

 
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