Chapter 1

Like many other women, I read these stories on the adult web sites. It's funny that male writers think so differently than female writers. Believe me, the sight of a naked man with a little potbelly is not a sexual turn-on. Seeing the crack of any repairman's ass does not bring instant gratification to most women. Let's face it, the male body standing naked with a dangling cock or a sticking straight out hard-on is not a turn on to most women. Flashers have never figured this out. Granted, there may be women out there that just seeing a man naked is their sexual fantasy, but I personally don't know any of them.

The exception to this rule for me is that if a gal is looking for a good time and, say, goes to an all male review and watches the sweating hot bodies dancing, it could be a turn on, mainly because it's what the woman is looking for, a good time. Another, which I found out later in my young life, was if it was my man, the one I wanted to spend time with; his body could be a turn-on to me also. When I want a man, I usually let him know that I'm interested. I believe most women will back me up on this.

Most women do not want to be some guy's play toy. Women in love act differently than women who just want some sexual activity. Men need to know this. I am going to tell you my feelings toward men. Not all women feel the same way as me but this is my story. If other women want to tell their story, that's fine with me.

My name is Sarah. I now am staying in Canada but feel like I should fly back to Ohio to face my husband. The problem is I haven't talked to him for over six months and if I see him, I'm not sure exactly how either of us will react.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. I was raised in foster homes and most of the foster parents treated me really good. If it wasn't for these generous people who take in stray and troubled kids like I was, I don't know where I would be today. My parents were killed in an auto accident when I was six years old. It was kind of rough for a little kid but I survived it and became a stronger person because of it.

I think the problem was, even though these nice people took me in, it was never really my home or my family. I lived in ten different foster homes till I turned eighteen. It was rough for me always moving and never knowing how long I would be at one place. During my high school years it was even harder. I never joined in a lot of extra curricular activities because I never knew how long I would be at any one school. It did make me smarter though. Since I had all this time after school, I studied. Believe it or not, I was an all 'A' student.

I didn't date until my senior year of high school. Foster parents seem to hold a tighter rein on us kids. I did have a few friends that I could visit with permission. I was a quiet person but I was strong inside. I didn't really let anyone in. I was always afraid of being hurt.

The majority of my sexual learning came from listening to a lot of the other girls talking. Some were real sluts telling us all the things they did with their boyfriends. A few of the foster mothers did tell me some things that they thought I should know.

I wanted to know more too. I think it's just part of growing up now, but at the time every time you turned on a TV or went to the movies it was all about sex and how wonderful and glorious it was. Then on the other side there was all this cheating and divorces. It really kind of screwed up my mind.

I dated a guy name Joe in my senior year. He was a neighbor to my foster parents so they kind of trusted him. He was the first boy I ever kissed, I mean really kissed, not just those pecks you get from guys. It was okay but I really didn't feel anything really special. He took me to the prom and afterward we parked in a lover's lane. I heard all these girls saying how great sex was and the things they did. I liked Joe so I let him do his thing. I knew he was surprised when I didn't stop him from grabbing my boobs. He actually hurt them: I guess he didn't know how to be gentle.