Sure, even I had to agree the red birthday balloon seemed innocent enough, but that was the trigger mechanism that started me off on the disgusting fetish that I tried to hide from my closest friends and relatives.
My name is Candy and I know it sounds silly and sort of cliché because I am blonde and have blue eyes and like to wear shockingly skimpy clothing just to get boy's attention. I want to tell everyone right up front that I lost my virginity at my eighteenth birthday party. Yes, it was the party when I got the pretty red balloon tied to a great present of knee-high leather boots with delicious high heels.
Matt who had been my heart-throb for most of the time we were in high school was the stealer of my cherry but I have to admit he was not really a thief as I shamelessly dared him to break open my hymen before I was a day older. We did the dirty deed in the pantry closet right on top of cook's huge sack of long-grain rice. I hoped my juices and other liquids didn't seep down into the rice because I really loved the lovely rice pudding she made quite often. It didn't hurt very much and I remembered holding the red balloon in my hand and watched it floating in the air above me like some marker of my lost virginity. It was larger than ordinary balloons and seemed to be made of some material that was a bit sturdier than the regular thin latex. I suspected it was produced commercially for use in decorations requiring somewhat more than ordinary strength to be serviceable.
I had my fingers crammed into my pretty mouth getting lipstick all over my hand like some tramp getting "stuffed" in a handy alleyway. Matt was concentrating so hard on giving it to me good and proper that he was only grunting like a crazed animal and not whispering words of love like I expected. Still, the stretching sensation and the sense of being filled was enough to make me spray my juices in record time for a virgin and we finished off our business to mutual satisfaction in a matter of only a few minutes much to my dismay.
My knight in shining armor ran off to the bathroom without a backward glance and I wandered back to the party with his cream dripping down the insides of my legs and holding the insipid balloon like Alice in Wonderland.
Later after all the guests had departed and I was able to return to my room to take a much needed shower, I inspected the scene of the crime for any indication of new-found womanhood but it all looked drearily quite the same. I had to giggle at my own silly expectations of some visible miracle that would mark me with the "no longer a virgin" stamp of approval. I looked in the full length mirror at my slender and well- shaped teenage body thinking that I was now a full-fledged woman and ready to engage in any kinky act that popped into my fertile mind.
I noticed the red balloon floating above the bed and I pulled it down to place in front of my pussy mound like some stripper in a gentleman's club in the red-light district. The feel of the slightly giving surface intrigued me and I noticed it slid delightfully in direct contact with my still leaking slit. I turned around and bent over with the balloon between my legs and I saw the red thing peeking out like evil incarnate blooming in a field of soft female flesh.
Somehow I wound up on top of the four-poster bed with my bum pointed right at the mirror and I looked over my shoulder to watch how sinfully I humped the silly red balloon as if it were alive and making me act like a frenzied nympho alone in my bedroom and in desperate need of a quick and satisfying orgasm. The overworked thing was being put to the test by my naughty pussy and I realized it was not very likely to survive my workout much longer. In fact, it was only seconds later that the happy red balloon burst with a loud bang and shriveled into shredded wisps of rubber on my "Hunger Games" bedspread. The accusing eyes of the heroine looked up at my trembling pussy with a look of sheer disgust for my terrible silly actions.
In all honesty, it was quite exciting to me because when the sound of the bursting balloon hit my eardrums it made me spurt my uncontrollable juices and I felt the same tingle as when my dubious boyfriend Matt shot his load in my no longer virginal vagina.
The next day I was in the mall and noticed the busy "Party Time" store with its many festive products for fun and games. I went to the section that featured the party balloons and was surprised that there were so many and of different sizes and shapes. I purchased a large yellow curved one that was supposed to be a banana but looked more like an alien cock. The other one I purchased was a thick rubber ball intended to be used for party games or exercise and had handles and other appendages to make it easy to pick up or ride like a bike.
The banana was lots of fun. I found that if I lathered my entire body with soap oil, the banana balloon was difficult to control and all the excitement was in wrapping my arms and legs around it and squeezing as tight as possible. Once I had it stabilized under my naked body, I was able to slide up and down on it enjoying the slight give of the rubbery surface, if I purposely under-inflated it. I was able to arrive at a wonderful orgasm that left me shuddering in naked glory right on top of my panty-clad "Hunger Games" heroine. I noticed that it was great exercise and often made me stop to run into the bathroom and let nature take its course before I could arrive at the magic point of happy release. It was sort of a natural laxative instead of the terrible tasting concoctions or the humiliating enema that hung like a medieval torture device on back of the bathroom door.
The huge rubber ball was fantastic because I was able to find so many combinations of positions and holds that using it made my pussy and my brown eye weep with joy each time I rode it to completion. Matt saw me using it one day and insisted on "doing me" with my bum up high and ready for his insertion deep inside. We both rode the ball that time to a very happy finish. The sight of Matt's beautiful body covering my sinful flesh on top of the rubber ball was enough to make me go into a multi-orgasm of the variety that that I had read about but never experienced before.
In a way I sort of missed the excitement of the bursting red balloon and went back to the party store to get an assortment of less sturdy balloons that I could ride and hump until they popped under my rough treatment reacting like mistreated toys handled by a spoiled little brat. Several times, the unexpected explosion between my legs served to trigger my orgasm much to my depraved delight and pounding pulse.
Between the banana, the ball, and my bursting balloons; I managed to have a great time behind my closed bedroom door and even Matt didn't suspect the full extent of my obsession with the exciting balloons which were far more than a pretty toy to me.