by Selena Kitt
Selena Kitt
Confessions: Roommate
Confessions: Babysitter
Confessions: First Blowjob
Confessions: Joy of Sex
Confessions: Separated
Confessions: Student Teacher
Confessions: Neighbors
Confessions: Union Station
Confessions: Watching Him Masturbate
Confessions: Key West
Confessions: Back Seat
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Selena Kitt
Confessions
Confessions: Roommate
My second college roommate was as exciting and adventurous as my first one was dull and introverted. I was actually glad my first roommate decided to ask for a room change halfway through my freshman year. She and I had never really gotten along. My new roommate, Carrie, was a petite blonde, and I knew the minute I walked into the room, seeing her laying with her head hanging backwards off the side of the bed watching Chuck Woolery hosting Scrabble, that we were going to be great friends. I was half right.
We were wonderful friends-but we also became much more than that. It wasn't my first experimentation with another girl. I'd had plenty of sexual play time with other girls as a teenager. I think it's more common today than it was then, or at least, it's more talked about and accepted, now. I had a boyfriend back home-1,000 miles away.
Carrie didn't have a steady boyfriend, but she dated-a lot. And she talked about her dates. She liked to give me detailed accounts after we turned the lights out and snuggled under covers in our narrow twin beds.
She never failed to turn me on. Carrie had a knack for story-telling. Especially sexual story-telling. Her favorite thing in the world was cunnilingus. She called it by its technical name, as if she was saying something exotic and exciting. If a guy wouldn't go down on her, she cut him loose faster than Donald could bark, "You're fired!" She wasn't averse to returning the favor. She loved cock as much as I did.
But it was Carrie who really taught me all about pussy worship. And she had one of the most lovely, amazing pussies I've ever had the occasion to adore. Carrie was a tiny girl, only about five feet tall. She had high, perky breasts with dark, fat nipples, and the tinest, pinkest, sweetest pussy in the world. Her hair there was blonde-this was in the days before shaving was in fashion. Blonde and curly. We liked to rub our pussies together, my dark red hair meshing with her light pubes, the wet slip and smack of our flesh filling the room as we played with each other's nipples.
But Carrie loved most to be licked. She taught me just how, just where. She taught me, also, to ask for what I wanted, to direct with a moan and a shift of my hips, to not be afraid to whisper, "Yes, there! Keep doing that, just like that!"
We spent hours-literally hours-licking each other at night in the dark, making each other come so hard our ears rang, our pussies and mouths smeared with juices. It wasn't every night, of course. We were usually drinking, and it almost always began with Carrie telling me a story about some dating escapade. I remember the first time, we just masturbated together.
"Are you as hot as I am?" she whispered.
"Yeah."
"Are you touching yourself?"
"Are you?"
"Yeah."
"Me, too."
"Feel good?"
"God, yeah."
"Do you want to come?"
"Yessss…"
"Come with me… come on… oh… god…"
We did that for a while. Then one night she decided to slip into my bed. We'd been drinking a lot. Even now, the details are fuzzy to me. We were kissing and touching each other in the dark, my heavy breasts rubbing against her little ones, her thigh sliding up between mine. We tumbled and rolled on the little bed, and before I knew it, she was on top of me, turning herself around and burying her face between my legs.
There was no way to say no to that sweet, lapping tongue, no way to ignore the heat of her pussy against my cheek, the way her hips rocked as she begged me, "Lick it, please. Lick it, lick it, lick it!" I licked. And licked, and licked. I licked her until my tongue ached and my face was smeared with her come. I licked her until my own hips rocked with my climax and she sucked on my clit like a tiny little cock as if milking it for all she was worth.
She always knew when I wanted her, because I'd whisper in the dark, "Carrie?…
Tell me a story…" And we would begin. I hated for that year to end. I ended up leaving school and moving back to go to school closer to home-closer to the boyfriend. Who I later married. He never knew about Carrie. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd stayed…
Confessions: Babysitter
When I was sixteen, I started babysitting for a young couple who lived in the apartment upstairs from us. They went bowling every Friday night, and I'd watch their nine-month-old. It was one of the easiest babysitting jobs I've ever had. Their baby was already asleep when I got there, and never peeped once, although I did go check on him now and then, just to make sure. They were a very nice couple, they paid well, and they always said I could use the phone or watch what I wanted or eat whatever was in the fridge. Still, it's strange, being in someone else's house, watching someone else's television, eating someone else's food. It's easy to get bored while you're babysitting, and it's actually a little lonely, sitting there by yourself all night.
I babysat for them for years. The husband and I used to sit in the living room while the wife got ready-she was never ready when I showed up. He was cute, and I liked to imagine he was attracted to me. He liked to flirt and ask me about school, and always inquired whether I had a boyfriend. One night when I was in college, he told me they'd rented a few movies, and I was welcome to watch them. He left them on the top of the entertainment center, and made a point of reminding me before they left, giving me a wink on the way out the door.
When I checked out the movies, I was surprised to find that two of them were porn movies! And this wasn't soft core stuff. How did I know? Well, I put them in, of course. I knew when they'd be home, and I knew I had a few hours before then, so I put the tape in the VCR and started to watch.
It was even more of a turn on, knowing he wanted me to watch, imagining him thinking about me, my jeans crumpled in a ball on the floor, my panties down to my knees, my legs spread and my fingers working my hot little clit as I watched women putting their asses in the air, begging to be fucked, watching huge, hard cocks sliding into wet, open pussies. I came once, fast and hard, but feeling guilty, I turned off the movie and quickly got dressed.
I tried to distract myself. I checked on the baby. He was fine. I ate some of their ice cream and watched MTV. But my eyes kept going to those cases on top of the entertainment center, and the ache between my legs just grew… and grew… Until I couldn't resist, and I put the movie back in again.
I wasn't going to touch myself. That's what I insisted when I put the movie in and sat on the couch. I just wanted to see… but as I watched, I felt myself getting wetter, my whole pussy throbbing.
I rubbed my hand over my jeans, lying back on the couch pillows, twisting with lust as I watched the blonde on the screen sucking his cock, his fingers playing with her hard nipples. I touched my own nipples, making them hard, watching as he bent her over and began to lick her pussy from behind. I couldn't help it.
I unzipped my jeans and slipped my hand inside, my pussy incredibly hot and wet under my fingers as I began to touch myself. He stood behind her, sliding his cock up and down her wet slit, and I wondered what it would feel like. At sixteen, I still hadn't had a cock inside of me yet, although I'd had one in my hand and in my mouth. What would it feel like to be fucked, I wondered?
I shoved my jeans and panties down my hips, spreading my legs wide on the couch and slipped two fingers into my pussy. I
fucked myself as I watched him fuck her, fingering my pussy and rubbing my clit with my thumb. I wondered if he was thinking about me-the husband-out bowling with his wife, imagining the babysitter sprawled on his couch and getting herself off?
The thought was both exciting and embarrassing, and it made my whole body feel hot. My god, he was fucking her so hard, and she moaned and twisted and fucked him back, her breasts swaying beneath her, her hair falling over her face. He was close to coming, I could hear it in his voice, and then he whispered it, "Fuck! I'm gonna come!"
and he pulled out of her pussy, leaving it wet and gaping as he began to shoot hot, white spurts of cum all over her ass.
She moaned and rolled her hips like she liked the feel of it running down the crack of her ass, through the wet, pink cleft of her pussy, and I couldn't hold back anymore, hearing him cum, watching waves of it erupting from the thick head of his cock, and I was coming, too, right there on the couch, my hips bucking and twisting, my whole body trembling.
Feeling guilty again, I quickly pulled my jeans up and turned off the movie. I watched MTV and fell asleep on the couch until they got home. I couldn't even look at him when they paid me. But I do remember, the next week when I went to babysit, he asked me, "Did you like the movies we rented last week?" I froze and blinked at him and he winked. "I noticed you didn't rewind them." Ah, the days before DVDs. VCR tapes told tales.
Meekly, I apologized, but my whole body flushed at the hot look in his eyes. He was about to say something, but his wife came in and he didn't have the opportunity. I knew, then, that he'd imagined me doing just what I did on his couch that night, and the thought made me wet. They didn't leave any porn this time, but I didn't need it. I stretched out on the couch and touched myself again that night, remembering the way he looked at me…
Confessions: First Blowjob
I got myself into a lot of trouble while I was babysitting. That's probably where the idea for Babysitting the Baumgartners came from in the first place. I actually had an affair with a married man while I was babysitting for his kids. He drove me home every weekend after I babysat for him and his wife's two kids. It was innocent and fun at first.
Just simple flirting, his hand on my knee.
Was I attracted to him? Yes. Very. He made my stomach fill with butterflies. It grew, this feeling, this thing. We started parking down the block from my house and kissing. That progressed to touching. I ached every time I stopped him and we drove the rest of the way to my house so he could drop me off. I inevitably ended up in my bed those nights, rubbing my soaking wet pussy to a delicious, mind-blowing orgasm, imagining just what happened one night soon after in the front seat of his car.
It was the first time I'd ever had a cock in my mouth. I'd had plenty of them in my hand or rubbing up against me in the dark. But I'd never been brave enough and the boys I'd been with had never been bold enough, and so I'd never actually tasted the thick length of a cock before. Until that night. This man-let's call him David-parked the car down the block, like we'd been doing. We proceeded to kiss and touch and do all those things we'd been doing for the past few weeks.
I had his cock in my hand, stroking it fast and hard, making him moan as he shoved my skirt up and pulled my panties aside. I'd learned quickly to wear skirts instead of jeans, giving his probing fingers easy access to my aching pussy. He almost inevitably made me come within a few minutes, shuddering against him, squeezing his dick in my hand until pre-cum leaked from the tip.
That night, he didn't stop after that first one. He grabbed me, my hair in his hand, pulling my head back so he could kiss me-hard-his tongue probing deep into my mouth. His fingers kept pistoning in and out of my flesh, his thumb rubbing my throbbing little clit, and I twisted and arched against him, aching for that second come, working for it, rocking on his hand and begging, please, please, please.
That's when he lowered my mouth slowly to his lap. I remember understanding what he wanted, but being afraid. Afraid I'd do it wrong, or not know how. It really didn't matter, though. He was good at guiding me, sliding my mouth down onto his cock. I remember gagging a little, feeling him back off, catching my breath. So this is how it was done. Up and down with my mouth, the same motion I'd been making with my hand.
It was sloppy and uncontrolled, but I don't think he cared. My ass was in the air, my panties pulled down around my knees, my skirt up, and if a passing car had gone by and looked in, they might have gotten quite a view. He distracted me with his hand, fingering me as I sucked him, my pussy already on fire from his earlier attention. It didn't take me long to catch back up and I ground my hips, sometimes forgetting about the throbbing cock in my mouth altogether.
The sound of his breath, his words, filled my ears. "Good girl, god yeah, such a good girl, suck it, baby, that's it, god that's so good…" My whole body filled with warmth and I sucked him harder, faster, making him buck and moan. I wanted something from him, I just didn't know what. I wanted something for myself, too. His fingers worked expertly in my pussy, finding my clit and rubbing, making me moan around his cock. I was so close to exploding I thought I would die.
I couldn't say anything-my mouth was too full of him-but I felt my climax coming and it made me suck him even harder. I was going crazy all over his cock, sucking and slurping, the noises obscene and thick in the front seat of the car, the windows fogging with our panting breath. I was coming with his cock buried in my throat, gagging on it at the same time as I rocked with my orgasm, fucking his hand, wanting more, more, more.
He cried out then… and it happened. I cried out, too, in surprise, as thick, hot jets of cum flooded my tongue. I didn't know what to do but swallow it, wincing as the acrid taste slid down my throat. It just kept coming, and he shuddered and grabbed my head, keeping me there, filling my mouth to overflowing again, so I had to swallow, and again, god, so much of it, hot, pulsing waves of it as he cried, "Oh fuck, oh god, oh yeahhhh baby yeah!"
He kissed me when it was over. Pulled my mouth to his and kissed me-hard. He thanked me, too, and whispered into my ear what a good girl I was. I wanted to do it again. He was soft, now, cock and balls just a fleshy mass at the base of his zipper, and when I reached for him, he stopped me. Still, the longing in me didn't stop. I wanted more.
We had sessions after that-and I learned a great deal about how to suck his cock, how to make him wait for it, how to tease him and take him to the edge. But I'll never forget that first time, the sweet surprise of it, and the longing to suck, and suck, and suck… for that sweet good girl reward.
Confessions: Joy of Sex
It’s no secret that I’ve been with women before. I was with girls long before I was with boys, actually. My first real sexual experiences were experimenting with girlfriends,
“practicing” how to kiss, first on pillows, then using our tongues. My best friend, Shawn, was a year old than I was, and her mother was divorced and had some interesting things for us to explore in her bedroom. The first was a huge illustrated copy of the “Joy of Sex.” We read about how to touch ourselves, how to suck a cock. We lay on the bed together, flipping pages, our faces burning, our hearts racing, our sweet pussies aching.
After a few times of doing this, Shawn decided to show me what was in her mother’s top drawer. I hadn’t seen one yet, although I would later discover my mother’s, too. It was the standard issue white vibrator, circa 1970-something, the kind that took two D-or was it C? — batteries and got incredibly hot after it had been turned on a while. That first time, I just watched her. Shawn was absolutely shameless about her body and her desires. She pulled her shorts and panties down to her knees — it was the middle of summer — and spread her legs wide. The hair between her legs was dark and thick, and the inside of her pussy was shockingly pink as she spread her lips and began to rub her clit with the humming end of the vibrator.
She watched me watching her through half-closed eyes for a while, until her hips starting moving all by themselves, and her eyes finally closed, and
I might as well have not even been there for all the attention she paid me. She was completely lost in the sensation, and I cupped my own pussy over the satin of my shorts, pressing hard against the ache as I watched her breasts rise and fall, her nipples harden under her t-shirt. It didn’t take her long to get off. She made these high, squeaky noises just before she was going to come, and then her whole body trembled with it, her back arching, her face flushing, her soft moans growing louder. We were both breathless when she was done, and then she handed the vibrator to me, still wet with her juices, and said, “Your turn.”
I felt shy, embarrassed, but my whole crotch was on fire, and the hum of the vibrator in my hands drove me on. I had to know if it felt as good as it looked like it did.
So I slid my shorts down over my hips and spread my legs, closing my eyes so I wouldn’t see her watching me. The first touch of the vibrator to my clit made me cry out in surprise and my eyes opened wide. Shawn smiled and nodded. “I know. Keep going.” I did.
Oh, god, I did. The delicious buzz against my young, tender clit drove me wild and I rubbed and rubbed the tip against that sweet nub. It was still slick from Shawn’s pussy and growing wetter as I worked it through my wet slit.
“Oh god, Shawnie, oh my god it’s so good. I can’t stand it. I can’t…”
“Come on,” she whispered, and I saw her through half-closed eyed, rubbing herself again as she watched me, her t-shirt up over her breasts now, her nipples poking straight out. “That’s it, come on, come on.” I couldn’t hold out anymore, although I wanted it to last forever. My hips pressed up as I came, my legs spreading wide, wider.
My climax shook me, the bed, Shawn, too, her fingers buried in the thick dark hair between her legs, working hard and fast as she rubbed herself as she watched me, both of us panting and crying out as we came.
