The Trouble with Virgins (Daughters of Venus 2)

“Oh fuck!” Kent said and leaned back.

He pulled his fingers out of me, gripped his cock, and gave in to himself. Suddenly I was only a spectator. He vigorously pumped himself.

“Oh Jessica!” he said as he suddenly winced and cum shot out of the end of his cock.

I watched in awe as he kept repeating my name while cum splashed onto the floor. Then it was dripping out slower and running over his knuckles. I realized I’d taken over playing with my clit.

Finally, Kent reached the end of his climax and came out of his trance-like state. He looked embarrassed to be sitting there in front of me, naked with his cock in his hand. Or was it shame?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For?”

“For pleasing myself instead of pleasing you,” he said.

And that was the correct answer.

I stood up from the bed and kicked his clothes over to him.

“Yes, we won’t let that happen again will we?”

“No…”

“No what?”

“No, my Dove.”

Once finished with Kent, I shoved him out the window, hopped in the shower, and was on my way out the door.

And that was the morning I turned eighteen.

***

Outside, our little town was quite alive for being so early in the morning. That was typical in our mountain community. With no TV to keep people up late hours surfing channels like zombies, everyone was able to get a good night’s sleep and wake up early enough to be active members of society.

I loved the vibrant energy of our people. For the most part, everyone was always in good spirits. Sure, even Doves got into arguments with their men, or fellows, but because the Doves were ultimately right in all situations, the disputes never lasted long. Usually they ended in delicious make-up sex, with the fellow doing all he could to prove he was still worthy of his Dove’s affections. Or so I’d heard.

The kids were already out running around. School had been canceled for today. The day a Dove came of age was a town holiday and I was the equivalent of Santa Claus or The Easter Bunny from days of old.

How odd. I was an eighteen year old virgin starting out on her new life and to the town I was something like a rock star. I was surprised kids weren’t running up and asking for my autograph. If they did I’d have to sign it: “Live life to its wildest. Love Jessica.”

Or maybe: “Spank the good and whip the bad. Love Jessica.”

I kind of liked giving spankings.

As I strolled the narrow walkways built to take us from home to home without having to walk through the grass, I spotted my favorite empty bench and decided to sit for a spell. I was feeling too overwhelmed. People were looking at me. I think. It seemed they were.

From my perch, I watched boys playing tag while two girls sat together and scooped dirt up with shovels. The boys seemed to want nothing to do with the girls and I thought of how that would change soon enough. They were so innocent playing together with their dirt. One day the boys would be chasing after them and it would be a whole different kind of dirty.

Rachel, a middle-aged Dove, approached the two girls and squatted down next to them. She was the mom of one of the girls. I tried to remember my mom. I’d never met my dad. But my mom I’d known till I was four years old. She’d brought me up the mountain because she knew I’d be treated like gold in the community. Where we’d come from I was always in danger.

But

my mom was bad. She was strung out on drugs and swore if she stayed with me people would come after us. She needed to go back. So she left me here. I remember it was snowing. And I was so cold. And I was standing in the church, my hand on the window, as she went to the brown pickup truck outside and climbed in. She waved back at me once and then she was gone forever.

And I’d been alone. Sure I’d met lots of great people and made lots of friends in the community, but inside I was cold as ice. I’d never been loved. I remember asking my mom about my dad, once, and she’d said he was a bastard and I’d never meet him.

As I watched the little girls playing in the dirt I felt happy for them. They seemed so warm in the sun. They were laughing and having a great time. I’m sure I laughed a lot as a kid too. I’d played in the same area, I’d chased boys and had been chased by them, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember giggling the way they were. I couldn’t remember feeling so carefree and joyous.