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My name is Yvonne. I am about a year out of high school. I thought my friends and I would be close forever. With the exception of two, we have — Tracey and Isabel had egos that got two big for the group. The main bond that brought us together was our commitment to walking the strait and narrow. All throughout school, we were straight-edger’s times four.

We were dubbed “the Mary’s” (or los Lúpes to César).

I should say *ALMOST* all through school. One-by-one, we got a little bit of dirt under our respective fingernails. Charli had several shitstorms occur in less than a year. Some family members inexplicably died in succession. Her inability to cope was made worse when she snorted her pain away. She went to jail, and our group was down to 5.

It was actually Tracey and Isabel’s respectability that separated them from the group. Being the best in their drama class, they were invited to be in a traveling play about the benefits of morality. The groups of fans got so big that we had to talk to their “people” just to say hello.

Yvonne is a different story. I am five foot four inches tall. I have reddish-brown hair and dark brown skin. I have a body built for sin. My only reason for being a goody-goody was my mother. She was just the opposite. I got my height from my father, but my body I got from Jeannine. She used her body-for-sin… …for sin. She told me horror stories about her and her friends.

I was not permitted to date until I was 16. My best friend, since I was twelve, jumped at the chance to be my first boyfriend. Although he supported and mirrored my purity efforts, it only took once to make a mistake.

So, now, it is now. We are all a year out of school; with the exception of the stars, of course. I was sitting on the couch on one of my few nights off. Frustrated with trying to find something on TV or a video I hadn’t seen a thousand times. I sat reading a magazine to just the radio. That’s when I got a call from Avante.

Avante didn’t have your typical model body. Hers was what people crassly referred to as a ghetto poker oyna booty. She asked for her boyfriend, Sean, as I was turning the radio off. From the sound of her voice, I could tell she wasn’t her normal chipper self.

I asked her what was wrong. After a number of transparent “I fine’s”, I finally got her to confess. She was nervous about letting Sean go all the way. Everyone knew they were deep in love — sickeningly so. I knew Sean before Avante and knew him to be a stand up guy. If she was going to be with anyone, I was happy it was him. I could, also, understand the apprehension that we all felt when it was our first times.

“I was sure you and Luna were going to be the ones that made it all the way to marriage.”

Luna said she wanted to be a nun. Abuse at the hands of family friend pushed her almost as far as Charli. The Marys were still the Marys and still the support group it had always been.

She said, “I know.” “But this is something I really want to do.”

I told her how I felt about her first time being with Sean.

“I’m still anxious about it, though.” “Sean being Sean, I’m sure it will be magical — as far as the planning.”

“Yeah. He is nothing if not strategic.” “But in a good way.” I added; correcting myself.

“True.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“We’ll have the right ambiance. We have the emotional feelings. But I’m still shaky on the physical feelings. That’s why I’m glad I mis-dialed. I figure you can give me some of your experience.”

“Thanks. The vast knowledge I arrived at through my *whoredom* has at last found its use.”

“Not what I meant… …and you know it.” She quipped.

“Ok, ok, ok. What do you what to know? As long as you’re there and naked he’s going to have a good time. If anyone needs advice, it’ll be Sean. And the one who needs to give it to him is you.”

“What do you mean?”

“As long as YOU are having a good time, you are both good. I know a good number of guys who get off by their ability to get their girl off. But he needs you to tell him or show canlı poker oyna him what buttons to push.”

“Again, what do you mean, ‘SHOW him’?”

“I had a boyfriend who was just as content watching me have my way with myself. If you know what turns you on, you can let him know.”

She then began to point out how much this went against the unwritten Marys handbook. The Marys included ourselves in the list of partners we were to abstain from before marriage.

“True enough. I was just looking out for Sean.” “Give yourself a hand, and you’ll be giving him a hand.”

“Oh. Ok. Ha ha. I get it. Rimshot.” In the characteristic Avante sardonic monotone.

“But seriously. If Sean is anything like Dimitry, he’ll get a kick out of it. Do it right before you two get started. Put on more baby oil than you normally would and give him a lap dance. Tell him this dance is just like the club; no touching. After a song of that butt everybody loves grinding into him, tell him he still doesn’t get to touch. That’s when the REAL show begins. Lie on the bed across from him and go through the steps you want him to take. Tell him while you’re showing him.”

“I don’t know what steps I want him to take.” Her voice came out half irritated and half in anguish.

“Calm down. I’ll tell you what I do.”

Through her “Ok.” I heard what sounded like her making herself more comfortable. I told her to slowly kiss her hand and slowly bring it to her neck.”

‘Start kissing me on my neck and work your way down.’

From then on, all I heard from her end were responsive “Uh huh’s.”

“Direct him to the center of your chest and tell him to make love to your nipples like that’s all he was going to get. You are going to wet your fingers for the instructions.”

“Uh huh.”

“Once you can’t stand him staying there anymore and NEED him to keep going, point him past the prize. The longer the pot simmers, the better the flavor.”

“Uh huh.”

“Tell him to explore you thighs for a little while. He’s probably going to take this opportunity internet casino to rub and squeeze that butt you didn’t let him have earlier. After a while of caressing and kissing your thighs, he’s going to creep up to your pussy.”

I heard nothing, but thought nothing of it.

“Once you tell him how you tell him how you want your slit licked, the rest is detail.”

I, again, heard nothing. This time I asked if she was still there. I found out the answers were “Yes” and “No”. She had been doing some pre-show warm-ups. I heard a number of squishes that let me know she was in her own world.

I should have left her alone with her thoughts of Sean. I couldn’t seem to hang up the phone. The “Uh huh’s” returned, but I knew what they meant, now.

Completely out of Mary character, I heard her say, “Fuck me, Sean.”

Images of what ‘Sean’ was doing to her made me want that same feeling. My ex’s — most of them, anyway — felt good. None of them; not even I brought sounds out of me the she was making. I could see them both. A sweaty mass of passion giving a pictorial definition of ‘The beast with two backs.’

I couldn’t be sure if listening made me a voyeur. I couldn’t be swayed by it either. I shooed that idea away as quickly as it came. I rationalized it as moral support for one of my best friends.

I began ditching clothes and making the trek up to my bedroom. ‘I should turn the radio back on. The quiet storm should be on — that’ll set the mood.’ Then I realized I didn’t need mood music. I could not have been more aroused than with what sights and sounds were dancing through my head. I discarded my bra and it seemed as though my hand was unable to wait for my panties to come off. I got it to cooperate and flung my panties off the edge of my bed. Somewhere on my journey to my bedroom, ‘Sean’ got lost. I only managed to hold on to my visuals of the one making the noise.

‘But this is your friend.’ I scolded myself. ‘Not only are you eavesdropping on & pleasuring yourself to her and her boyfriend’s sexual experience, but you’re, now, getting off to the thought of another woman who sounds like she’s about to cum.’

My conscience brought the mirror to my face. But it said it at the point of no return. I couldn’t help but cum with her.

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