Story 2, Part 2 - I am a Whore

There are still a few cheerleaders who remain intimate friends with me. They always ask about Wallie but never give them the answer they want. Even back in high school, they thought he was cute since the bruises never touched where they could be seen. Now, he’s the mysterious recluse that intrigues them.

If he had any interest, he could have a threesome with a couple of former cheerleaders any time he wished. They all still look hot, but even if they let themselves go, it’s still a threesome with former cheerleaders. I told him my friends would take care of everything. All he has to do is ask me, but he never has and never will.

All the people I’ve had that I’ve known, I’ve loved them all in my own way. Even those known just briefly, like the married couple celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. They told me they both fantasized about having a threesome but never carried through with it until me. I think the only reason they went through it with me is they said I looked just like their daughter.

I’ve been called a lot of names, including some less-than-flattering ones, but I never heard anyone call me by their daughter’s name. It was an exciting moment that I’ve never been able to recapture. They weren’t intoxicated in the least, which made it so much better knowing I was giving them something truly special on that day.

I do love orgies, especially the kind I find myself at now. The masks with the dimmed lights tell me politicians and judges are here. The pleasant moans started long before I got here, and it’s all real. The anticipation is as thick as the sex-filled air. Bodies of all kinds can be seen nearby as people let everything go.

Condoms are in every room, but it’s not required. All that’s required is the masks stay on, the lights remain dim, no one’s forced, and there’s a lack of clothes.

Two men start to kiss in front of me, which isn’t my first experience seeing it, but it is the first where it’s tentative for the both of them. Neither have done this before. I do hope they let themselves go. With the sights, sounds, erotic tension, and scents in the air, I don’t think they’ll have a choice, but not everyone can let themselves go, even in a place like this.

There’s a gentle touch on my elbow, which causes my eyes to move to a man wearing a black mask. A pleasant smile touches his face, but the lights are too dim to see much more, including the color of his eyes. I start to fall to my knees, but he stops me before I can get close to his hardened state. I can feel the condom in the hand that didn’t touch my elbow, which tells me he wants something else, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

I’m expecting him to bend me over or lower me to the floor, but he takes my hand with a strange touch. There’s no rush for him to do anything. It’s as if everything happening around us doesn’t affect him.