Diary of a Loose Girl
Chapter 20: Donnie

Copyright© 2015 by Chase Shivers

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 20: Donnie - 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 Minberg, Female, 21
- Narrator, Bitterwood graduate
- Beige, freckled skin, 5'6, 140lbs, curly back-length dark-red or blue hair
Julens, Female, 21
- Junior at Harvard, Bitterwood graduate, French
- Light olive skin, 5'8, 140lbs, long silky black hair
Donnie, Male, 23
- Senior at Harvard
- Beige skin, 5'10, 180lbs, short blonde hair

When I woke up again, I instinctively reached for whatever bottle or cup of alcohol I'd left half-full on the bedside table. Instead of pulling back a delicious first sip of liquor, I knocked over a lamp and sent it to shatter its bulb on the tile floor. Not a pleasant sound when so hungover.

I tried to open my eyes, was able to see that no one slept in the other bed. I didn't know if Julens had been there earlier or not. I didn't care. I wanted a drink.

I crept into the kitchen, seeing no one, and searched for alcohol. Nothing obvious, I checked where I thought I'd had wine the night before. Nothing there.

Julens came out of the bathroom wearing a towel. "No booze. Not today."

I grunted and kept pawing through various cabinets.

"You won't find any, Carrie. I mean it, no booze!"

I turned to her, pain on my face, tried to will her to show me a bottle.

"Take these, better than booze."

"What is it."

"Tylenol. Take them both. With water."

She handed me the pills and I downed them when she also offered the water.

I sat heavily on the couch and tried to figure out what the fuck I was doing in Julens' apartment. I remembered a bit about the night before, crying on the sidewalk, drinking wine, showering. My eyes continued to search for the wine while I worked up the energy to give a fuck about anything at all.

"Its Saturday, Carrie. No classes for me, today. I'm going to keep an eye on you. Someone ... asked me to ... someone who loves you..."

"Someone? Who?"

She didn't say it, but I knew she meant Elise. "She shouldn't love me. I don't deserve it."

"You may be right." Ouch. "But she loves you even if ... even if things aren't ok. She's called me six times since I found you yesterday. She wants you to be ok, you know."

I grunted and sat back, my head pounding. "If I can't have booze, got any weed?"

"No, though ... I could probably get some ... better than liquor for you right now ... I'll see..."

I nodded, kept looking for the wine. "So ... now what."

"Now we talk."

"Sounds lovely."

"I'm serious."

"Me too." I was a sarcastic bitch to her, I know it. Hungover, no booze, no pot, no Elise ... It's amazing I could construct sentences without a blazing 'fuck you!' attached to each one.

Julens grabbed a towel, wet it in the sink, and stuck it to my head. "There, that will help the headache. Keep it on until it's no longer cool."

It stayed on my forehead quite well without my help, so I didn't need to give a fuck about whether I would hold it or just let it fall on my lap.

I slept at some point, remember waking up to Julens talking on the phone. She was speaking in a low voice, but I made out her end of the conversation.

"I know, Elise ... Yeah, I know ... I know ... She's ... doing better. Not had a drink yet today ... Yeah, I know ... Please, come see her ... I think it would help ... I know ... not even ... yeah, I know ... She made a bad mistake, Elise, no one blames you ... well, no, I don't think so. Carrie blamed herself, when I said you still loved her, she said she didn't deserve it ... pretty sure she blames herself ... right ... I know ... I know..."

And on like that for some time. I had a hard time following the one-side of the conversation I could hear, but I knew it was Elise, that she wasn't coming to visit me, and she thought I blamed her. After half a day without alcohol, the day wasn't getting any better. Julens hung up, and sat next to me.

I grumbled, "that went well."

"I'm trying, Carrie, I'm trying to help. This is hard. I'm friends with both of you, I'm hurting for you, Carrie. I'm hurting for Elise."

For the first time in days, I think some of my reality sank in and settled, stopped kicking around in my gut. A few hours without alcohol didn't hurt, but a few strands of coherent thoughts made me look again at what I'd done to my life.

I hated what I saw.

What I'd done to Elise, the days I'd spent drinking and spending Mom's money, the lack of sleep and showers and courtesy.

I hated myself.

And I cried. I let it go, I let it out, Julens pulled me to her and hugged me. I cried hard, held Julens tight, wished I could run back to Elise and hold her, even just one more time. I hurt, everywhere and nowhere, every bit of me feeling the misery of my stupid sexual mistake.


For two weeks, I crashed with Julens and Khepri, mostly on their couch. The Egyptian girl stayed with her boyfriend a couple of times, let me use her bed. I stayed numb, moped. They kept me fed, calm, sober. I mostly sat with the television on something I didn't care to watch, but couldn't bother to turn off.

They put no serious pressures on me, and didn't mention Elise at all. At some point, one of them retrieved the rest of my things from Elise's apartment, including my mail. One letter told me I'd been suspended from school due to missing classes. The next made it clear I'd been expelled. It had been about a month since I'd last gone, so it was not a surprise. It really just closed the door on anything left for me at Harvard, and to some extent, Boston itself.

I took a job in a bookstore. Julens had become friends with a woman who worked there on weekends and when a position opened up, Julens stuck her neck out for me. It was only a few hours a week, but I started going to work on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays, and it got me out of the rut I was in.

I started jogging with Julens and Khepri. Mostly, I hated it. But it did relieve stress and made me feel much better about things.

I knew I was overstaying my welcome after a month living with them. They didn't outright say I needed to move out, but the longer I was there, the more I got asked if I'd found an apartment or was planning to return to Texas. I hadn't done much toward either end, but as things turned around, with the job, with the exercise and sobriety and the slow, miserable distance I was gaining on my relationship with Elise, I tried to find something.

The semester ended and Julens and Khepri went home to France and Egypt, respectively, leaving me all alone over the holidays. Mom, who I'd only barely kept updated on my status, was traveling to Thailand with her boyfriend, talking of marrying the man. I had no one to go home to, so I stayed in Boston.

My work schedule had picked up over the last month of the year, holiday time was a bit of a rush in the bookstore. I started getting a lot of hours, and when one of the full-timers was fired, I was offered the opportunity to step into the role. I did, and slowly, I was able to save some cash and looked seriously for my own place.

By that point, I was doing ok, compared to where things had been for a couple of months. I was sober, showed up for work on time, jogged, and had even paid Julens a bit to cover some rent and some of the food I was eating. Sober, and chaste, over that time. Except for Evan, I'd been with no one else since Elise. I had very little sex drive, and I knew that was my reaction to fucking Evan and to fucking up my relationship with my blonde lover. I had scarred that part of my life for a while, and for once, I felt no urges to get laid. I rarely masturbated, and even then, it wasn't fantasy or even particularly sexual, just a quick rub once or twice a month to release a little pressure.

I met Donnie on New Years Eve. I'd worked all day at the bookstore, and toward the end of the night, a guy walked in, smiled at me behind the counter, and moved off to the section where we kept the classic fiction. I checked out a customer or two, then he walked up and slapped a stack of great novels down. I eyed him, smiling, said, "great taste. Dickens ... Shelly ... Lawrence ... nice."

"Bit of light reading. One more semester and they tell me I'll graduate and actually have to do something other than read and write for a living. Can you imagine? Guess I better take advantage of it while I can."

I chuckled and rang him up, told him that I'd read all of the books he was buying and suggested a couple of others. He leaned on the counter as I counted his change, said, "reader, are you? What's your major?"

I shook my head, said, "was Lit. I'm not in classes right now."

"Ah." He grabbed the bag of books, paused, said, "hey ... shot in the dark. You doing anything tonight? I'm supposed to go to a New Years party but I'd actually prefer to sit and read. But ... you know ... if you wanted to go with me, maybe we could talk about how Dickens healed his family and friends by mesmerizing them..."

"You mean, how he failed to heal them with magic tricks?"

He smiled broadly, said, "Yes, exactly."

I pursed my lips and thought a moment, hesitated, but it had been a long time since I'd gone out to do anything fun, and I finally nodded, "sure. Yeah, ok."

He looked pleased. "Donnie," he said, extending his hand.

"Carrie."

"I know, it's on your tag."

"Oh. Right."

He jotted down the address and it wasn't too far from Julens' apartment, so I agreed to meet Donnie there around 10 that night. He thanked me and headed out of the store. I took stock of him then. He was reasonably tall, though it was always hard to judge hight from the raised checkout area. Donnie seemed to be in shape, a few extra pounds, tan beige skin, dirty blonde hair that was just long enough to fall over in arcs.

I don't think I was sexually attracted to him. The old 'fuck anybody' hormones were still far down the chain of things controlling my emotions at that point. He was a good looking guy, was obviously a senior or grad student. I'm not sure I'd just accepted a date, either. Just a friendly offer to talk books and spend a few hours with someone new.

It had been a long time since I'd done that. Other than Julens and Khepri, I rarely talked to anyone outside of work, and never enough to get to know them. It was a protective shell I wore carefully, and I wasn't interested in letting anyone break through it yet.

But New Years Eve is always a time for trying new things, for looking forward to the future, putting the past in perspective. My past still hung around, and I knew that one night, a few hours at a party with a nice guy, wasn't going to wash away all my demons. But, for the first time in months, I felt a spark of happiness start to ignite, an anticipation for just getting out of the apartment and doing something. Anything. The old me finally started to fight back that night.


I was actually nervous as I walked slowly in the cold breeze. The apartment was all mine, so I tried on a couple of different perfumes before settling on the one I liked, even put on a simple blue dress that I thought might still look good on me. I'd lost weight since Elise, not too much, but I knew it showed, and the dress that used to be tight on me hung easily from my sides.

Wrapped in a coat and trying not to freeze as the snow started, I wondered what kind of party I'd arrive to find. The only person I was certain to know was Donnie, 'know' used very loosely there, and otherwise, I didn't know if it would be students or family or drunken frat boys looking for quickies and shots.

I didn't think about sex consciously, but I'd prepared for it nonetheless. I'd put on makeup, perfume, and specifically, I'd shaved my pubes, left a thin happy trail a few inches long, removed the rest. I'd always been pretty fortunate when it came to shaving my puss. My skin was sensitive to touches and licks, but not to the razor. I'd run my hand over myself a couple of times and enjoyed the smooth skin I found there, my clit even rising and saying 'hello.'

I found the tall, thin house easily, could hear music pumping inside, the distinctive sounds of muffled, excited chatter mixed with a base line that vibrated the windows. I climbed the steps and debated whether I should ring the doorbell or just go inside.

"Nasty habit, I know. I'd hoped to finish before you arrived" Donnie was leaning near the far corner of the porch in shadow, smoking a cigarette.

I turned toward him and he took another drag, spotted an ashtray and reached to put it out. I snagged the lit cigarette and puffed. "I like the taste and smell of it sometimes, not a habit, just sometimes." I took another drag, passed it back to him. "Besides, I'd have smelled it on you. No hiding that smell once it soaks into your clothes."

"Too true. Hey, I'm really glad you came, I ... I'm not really much for these types of things, but one of my close buds invited me and once you agreed to join me, I figured, what the hell."

"This his place?"

"Nah, his parents. They're off to some other party, left him a well-stocked bar if you're interested."

I hesitated, "Uh ... I..."

"Don't drink? That's ok. I'm a lightweight, myself. Still sipping a bit of rum and pineapple, probably last me all night."

"Ah. I drink, just ... not in a few months." I considered my options. "I'd take a rum and pineapple. Light on the rum, show me where?"

"Gladly."


I was at the party a couple of hours before I started feel really warm around Donnie. He was polite, didn't pressure me to drink more than the one, barely alcoholic concoction he made me. We talked about his upcoming graduation from Harvard and why I wasn't in school. The latter issue I glossed over, lied and told him it was a medical condition and that I might start up classes again in January.

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.