Leather is the way to go

Flashback Three

The first time I ever had sex was in a taxi. We were living in New York and I was fourteen. I'd been visiting my boyfriend (yes, I had once been capable of an actual relationship. More on that later) and thought I'd catch a cab home. It couldn't be too hard; everyone did it. However, I forgot to make sure that I had money. The cab driver had pulled over and I was digging through my pockets, finding nothing. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but obviously there was nothing he could do.

"Kids! You think we're just mom and dad, don't you? Ready to run around at your beck and call. I'm of half a mind to take you to the police station and see whether mommy comes to pick you up from there." I really didn't want to end up in the police station, because I wasn't entirely sure my parents would come and pick me up, so I copied something I'd seen in the movies.

"I fuck you and you don't take me to the police station." He looked me over. I wore a white tank top, and the black bra that guarded breasts that were well developed even then was scanty and easily visible. My legs were long and slender, sticking out from a grey pleated miniskirt. I reached my hand out to touch the lump in his pants and he surrendered, driving into the carpark beneath the building, and into the darkest corner. He turned off the taxi sign as I climbed into the backseat. I wasn't as experienced then as I am now, but I did my best, kissing him and rubbing myself against him. He seemed to be having fun anyway, moaning and gasping. I remember finding the sight of his erection quite absurd; huge and purple, sticking up from that great tuft of hair.

He did most of the work that day. I lay still while he was shoving himself inside of me forcefully and when he was done just climbed out of the car and went on my way. However, I had never been able to get the feeling out of my head. I'd loved it; I'd finally felt powerful for once in my life. Wanted. And I had to feel it again.

I screwed my boyfriend the next day and then arranged for him to catch me cheating on him. I wanted sex now, not relationships, and I wanted the thrill of doing something wrong and being caught at it. The school reported me to my parents and, ashamed, they moved us to a small town where it seemed they hoped my lust would dissipate. However, all that happened was that I went after the principal first and got him on my side. Then I was free to do what I liked. This school has more sex than any school in the world, and it was because of me.