Stories | 2016

Context: this happened almost two years ago, when I had just turned eighteen. My friend’s mother (let’s call her Melissa) had been dropping some not so subtle hints that she wanted to fuck me since the first day she learned I was of age. My friend John was already doing her roommate, Anna, on a daily basis. He was my age, she was about almost thirty. At one point, he began staying over at Melissa’s house for well over a week straight while her husband was out of town, dropping acid, snorting xanax, smoking weed, and drinking alcohol everyday while screwing Anna’s incredible petite body.

The ciders started going down to ease the nerves for something that had been planned for just under a week, then came the knock on the door. I nervously opened the door, but excited for what was ahead. We sat down, each on a recliner, started talking, a little bit of flirting here and there. My partner was in and out of the room, joining in the conversations when he was there. After an hour and a half, nerves were high, excitement levels were high, but still nothing had happened yet. I was wearing a skirt, no underwear, legs half open and I was facing him.