Chapter 6

I would have been fine with all of that night being lost to memory and never seeing Deanna again. Deanna thought otherwise, and I’ll have to admit that however reluctant I was to have her in my life, the girl did make me relax a bit and take life a little less seriously. Whatever my present regrets about my many months spent by Deanna’s side, there’s no doubt that life with her was life altering. Regrets, sure, but when I opened up to her about everything, she held me and supported me. Instead of accepting why I was so cynical and numb to the world, she had me shove a giant middle finger into the air and promise to love the life that was there for me to experience.

Well, it was more complicated than that, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Just the day after our unthinkable intimacy Deanna called me, just to make sure I didn’t hate her for allowing her date, Don, to fuck and fill my unprotected pussy even while her brother was doing the same down my throat. She even asked if I had an orgasm, then went on a five minute talk about her own orgasms before returning to the topic of what mine were like.

The rest of the week wasn’t much different. Deanna forced me to return to her place, sans brother or boyfriend, so that she could trim my forest and talk about what so disinterested Don when it came to screwing me. At first we were just going to make lemon bars, but she always had a hidden agenda. After putting the bars in to bake and with her mother in the back yard, I found myself getting a shave and a trim, eyes wide as Deanna yet again stuck her head between my naked thighs.

It turned out alright, the girl giving me a talk on all things feminine that many girls didn’t learn until later in life, particularly when it came to inviting a boy’s tongue between my thighs for a taste. Treyvon didn’t seem to mind, but he had joked about how thick my bush was, so I took Deanna’s comments in stride and promised myself to start paying more attention to all the “grass growing on my front lawn.”

Deanna also brought up the comment Don had thrown out, of how I must have had a lot of experience with men because of how loose I was.

“Don’s not the best built guy on the planet,” she said, “but I’ve had some good times with him. If he couldn’t get much out of taking you on last week, I’ve got to think that maybe you’ve got a lot more experience than what you admit to.”

“Hey. It’s not like I invited him in. I haven’t had any complaints before so maybe he’s the problem here. None of his business anyway.”

“Sorry, not saying there’s anything wrong when a girl’s got a long list of references on her resume, but that kind of wear and tear will have an effect on how well her future dates go. A girl’s muscles can get stretched out. You get me?”

For once I was the one who spelled it out, throwing it in my own face and giving Deanna another chance to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. Fat cocks stretch a girl out and make it hard for other guys to get off. I get it. I heard it before (from Kevin, though at the time I thought it was just spite due to my being with Treyvon) but that never kept them from coming back for more.”

Deanna laughed and pried for details. I didn’t give her the whole story, but she got enough out of me to know that I probably had more experience with older guys than most of the senior girls in her graduating class. She didn’t condemn or make fun of me. She showed an embarrassing amount of curiosity about what my orgasms were like and what my favorite position was, but she also gave me tips on how to keep a nice tight hole for any lucky guy I might invite between my legs.

I was doubtful at first, but then she did the most mind-bending thing ever, right in front of me. This tall girl, almost a foot taller than me, kneeled on the bathroom floor, pushed the slender handle of a brush into her hole, and demonstrated how she could pull the brush up and then push down at will, all with the muscles in her twat.

“You don’t want to be just another hole for a guy to fill when there’s nobody else around,” she lectured in an almost professorial manner. “You want him to remember every inch, every thrust, and every suck you give his cock with your pussy lips. Guys always think with their dicks, but they have really short memories. Make your pussy the one he remembers even three girls down the line.”

I went home that afternoon with plans to buy a good razor and a promise to do ten minutes of core/kegel exercises every morning. For her part, Deanna presented me with a joined set of kegel balls. Even had a string, not that I feared they’d get stuck up there. She offhandedly mentioned that she had some joined beads for her ass, but mostly for use when she needed the extra stimulation In later months she brought up owning and gave demonstrations with a number of things to exercise and play and get off with. I wasn’t quite as keen on all the toys, but by the time our relationship ended, I had both kegal balls and a pussy plug which I sometimes used in my butt. Never told anyone about that, even my little sister. Some things just have to be kept secret.

On the serious side, I did start practicing the kegel exercises. It was clear in my mind that Kevin’s complaints had some merit. Treyvon’s almost unnatural width, particularly that fat blunt hammer head of a hood I had problems wrapping my lips and tongue around, had stretched me out. He groaned in appreciation every time he’d levered me open, but he also made me worthless for anything but a convenient place for any random guy with a more normal cock to dump a load of sexual frustration into. Yes. Definitely time for a new kind of exercise regime.

More uncertain was who I was and if maybe I liked girls more than boys. Deanna’s displays of affection were surprisingly welcome. I didn’t get off thinking about other girls but I absolutely loved being held by Deanna. Of course the orgasm she gave me that afternoon was nice, Deanna demonstrating on me what other uses there might be for a long-handled hair brush. Yet most wonderful was remembering the feel of Deanna’s hands around me, the feel of her kisses to my neck and face, and the sound of her voice as I cried real tears of relief. After the fuck and fingering, after the electric jolt from clit to brain, after the orgasm, she held me like I’d never been held before. The following five minutes were the most peaceful I’d had since I was a baby. Or at least since I first met Gary.

After that I never went a day or night without reaching out to connect with Deanna, even if only through a smile and touch in the hallway at school. Through the spring and her graduation from high school and following hot summer months and all the way to her leaving for college, she was my most trusted friend and confidante. When she drove out of my life, I cried for a week straight.

Then I got up, set my jaw, screwed my head back on, and came to the realization that the hot tramp had used me like any pimp would make use of a girl he owned on the street. I came to hate her and became more cynical and numb than I’d ever been before meeting her. And then, of course, as time went by, I realized that Deanna had been a learning experience, and that for every example of abuse I could bring to mind, I could remember more lessons learned about who I was and how loving of myself I should be. She made me accept my past and love my present, and most importantly to take joy in life, even when the guy reaming my anus pulled back and shoved his shit-laden dick into my pussy and released a horde of screaming mercenary sperm into my uterus. Yeah, that happened once, the jerk.

In my short life, I can pick out three girls/women who befriended and made use of me. Deanna was the first. Of course she was also a real friend, a girl confidante, and loving and caring other whom I came to trust if not adore. She meant so much to me those months we were together. And although she absolutely did use me with certain unmentionable ends in mind, I believe I was also very dear and close to her own heart. In some deep way we really did love one another.

The difference was that I devoted myself to her and followed her every suggestion and she found in me a loving companion with whom she could experience all of life’s pleasures. In short, I was like a lapdog to her, a pet, and just like a dog I could see nothing wrong in anything she did. I was such a blind trusting fool, going along with everything she put before me. I think she sometimes put me in situations just to see if I’d say no, but with her there, watching, holding my hand, and sometimes even participating, I never thought of backing out. I was absolutely used by her, and yet I don’t think I’d ever want to trade those many months of being with her for anything.

I’m sure it looked like I was in love with the girl. At school there were jokes about us being lesbians because every chance we could Deanna and I could be found together. She was a senior and me just a miserable sophomore so we didn’t have any classes together, but we had our favorite places to meet and eat lunch, and every day after school I’d walk home with her, our hands often joined as I looked up at her, devoted to Deanna’s every word. I can only now see how others might think we were lesbian lovers, me being the devoted and submissive Asian slut to the tall Anglo dominatrix.

Against my parent’s wishes I wound up spending a lot of week-end nights at Deanna’s, and often in her bed, and just as often in her arms. I don’t remember the sex so much as the caring, the warm arms, the quiet voice in the dark, and the knowledge of full acceptance.

Yes, I mentioned sex there, but everything we did with each other seemed to only be in preparation for, or at least in knowledge of, what we would be doing with the men in our lives. We were surrounded by boys at school but Deanna knew of my less than satisfactory experience with high school jerks. She knew this and used this, easily steering me into Josh’s bed and the bedrooms and back seats of the young men her brother was friends with.

Many men, but the first man she steered me towards was her brother, Josh, and the other men just kind of fell into place. Deanna had her favorites, but Josh in turn had his preferences in who Deanna saw or, more importantly, who she spent an afternoon or all night with. I’m unsure of just how much Josh controlled Deanna, or maybe just how much the two siblings worked together while meeting each other’s demands and needs. Since Josh was the elder and a male with very selfish sexual demands I came to know all too well, it’s no stretch to think he at least influenced everything Deanna did or had me do.

I’m sure it was a group decision for me to become Josh’s go-to girl. After that first date with Josh and Don, Deanna saw to it that I spent an afternoon if not the entire night with Josh whenever he was home. I’m not saying I was forced into this. At the time, Deanna made it seem like Josh and I would be perfect for each other. No, not as in love forever, just good to meet each other’s physical needs. It was never put that way, but Deanna did think Josh would be a good example of what to expect from older men, particularly after what she considered my bad experience with Treyvon and Kevin the year before.

That first day I was getting pumped full by Don while Josh reamed his sister with a banana, and only a week later Deanna held my legs up and wide while watching her brother take me from on top. I may have been Deanna’s pet, but on looking back there’s no doubt I was Josh’s sex toy. He was nice about it, never slapping my ass, never verbally abusive other than some nasty racial references, and of course I never allowed him to tie me up.

Josh really did have fun with me. It really stands out in my mind is how he did have a thing about fucking my twat and ass with everything that even resembled a dick. Some nights were simple fucks, but he really got off watching me do it with a dildo or some other object. A lot like his sister, now that I think about it. Half the blow jobs I ever gave him included me riding a dildo or Josh pushing something more organic up my twat or butt while I sucked his very live cock. Just as often it was Deanna both watching and participating, getting hot while watching me get screwed by Josh. She’d watch, but just as often she would lend a hand with a toy or tongue when she thought I was in need.

This brings up one of the most personal things about Deanna and me and our many “dates” with Josh and his friends. Deanna liked to be there when I had sex. That time with Don, the first fuck by Josh, and most other times after that. She seemed to revel in watching me have sex with a guy, be it with Josh and in her bed or with another guy on his back porch or in his car. She didn’t deny this when I brought it up, but she said she most enjoyed watching me when she was having sex as well, like on a double date. It’s like she got totally turned on by watching Josh or another man fuck me into an orgasm. I even remember her having sympathetic screams as I reached my peak.

We once shared guys, two guys on the two of us, but mostly she had her date and I had mine, chosen by her of course. Just as often I’d be with Josh while Deanna was accompanied by Don or just tagged along with Josh and me.

To my knowledge, she never fucked her brother. It’s shocking to even write that. I think that was the one thing the two of them held back from me. Sure, I asked her point blank, but over all that time, all I could get her to confess to was that she and Josh did mess around with one another and that, oh, by the way, she gave him head once in a while. She didn’t think anything of it, like helping her big bro release a little pressure, but she never admitted to Josh ever slipping his dick into her voracious pussy.

A lot of times over the summer we three would share a bed. Sometimes in Josh’s room but more often the three of us squeezed into Deanna’s queen-size bed. Did that a lot over his summer break when he wasn’t off on an escapade of his own. Yeah, you read that right. Deanna had a queen bed to herself, easily shared with me, and it seemed to be no big thing for Josh to slip under the covers to share our intimate thoughts and put to practice what a young man could do for a girl. It was strange at first, having Deanna there to watch, touching me and loving me as only a girl could even as Josh fucked me hard and deep as only a man could.