I guess you could say I was an early developer.
My tits came in, huge, when I was 12 and men never looked at me as a child after that. I lost my virginity at 13, to another 13 year old, while we were on holiday. We were both probably too young, but it was a good experience, and didn’t put me off.
At 14 I got myself my first boyfriend, he was 15 and we were each other’s first everything else. We were together for a year and we fucked every chance and every place young teens can find to fuck and every which way young teens can think of or can google. Towards the end of the year he was my first in less pleasant ways: my first abortion and my first STI. The latter led to my first heartbreak. I found out my best friend, a virgin, was fascinated by all the sex we were having and had asked him to “show her” what it was all about. At the time I was angry and hurt, but looking back I don’t really blame her, or think it was her that gave hm the STI he gave me.
I took the breakup hard and rebounded all over the place, sleeping with his friends and his enemies to get back at him, and with anyone else who was around just to feel something again. By now I was 15 and could pass for 18 so I started going to nightclubs and from there more often than not back to college boy’s campus dormitories. I started to get a bit of a reputation which led to a whole different group of people seeking me out, and while most of them were creeps and losers some of them were able to show me some things. I had my first threesomes (MMF and MFF) through friends of the college boys I’d been hooking up with and was introduced to the peripheries of the poly/kink scene in town. The serious players there and the clubs knew how old I really was and stayed well clear, but I got passed around the fringes of those circles a fair bit. A middle aged couple had their 10th wedding anniversary dinner off me as I was lashed to their dining table and then had their way with me until the table broke.
For my 16th birthday I stole my older sister’s passport and went on a Club 1830 holiday as her. I spent 7 days and 6 nights in Ibiza and fucked nine different men, none of them at the same time.
Shortly afterwards I started my first really healthy relationship, and started to learn about good sex and intimacy, and learning the way each other’s bodies work until you can play each other like a violin. We broke up, mutually and amicably, after about a year (save the odd subsequent booty call) and since then I’ve just had a couple of flings.
All this to say that despite having barely turned 18 when I left home turned up at my own university halls, I thought I knew everything that there was to know about sex, and – by now having matured into what it would be impossible to deny was a stunning young woman (and feeling the pressure of knowing that these will be my peak years – tits as big as mine can’t defy gravity forever) – I was ready to rule the roost as sexual queen of my campus.
The first couple of weeks were fun. I set out to find and seduce some of the most beautiful men on campus. None of them really knew what they were doing, but they looked nice naked while trying to do it and some of them seemed teachable. I started to flirt with some of my lecturers, because the office hours fantasy was definitely on my bucket list. I had my first lesbian experience that wasn’t for the benefit of an accompanying man, and I really enjoyed it (I still prefer men, I like that I have no idea what it feels like for them).
There was one downside though: the walls of my dorm room were very very thin and I was painfully aware that no matter how much fun I was having my next door neighbour was definitely having more.
The first time I was awoken by piercing screams I just assumed she was a yeller. The second time, realising that the screams were different I realised that she was a he, and over the next few weeks I learned that he seemed to be able to turn a variety of different women into yellers. I also learned his name. I still hadn’t seen him at this point but I did start to time my exits from my room to try and catch him, and instead caught a string of women – beautiful women – on their walk of shame.
I have to admit at that point things got quite out of hand. I’d find myself not going out, or turning in early, in the hope of listening in. I moved my bed across the floor so I could press my ear against the wall. I have to admit I didn’t learn much from this except that he clearly had stamina and technique, and that I wouldn’t be much cop as a detective listening to wiretaps.
About a month in I saw a giant of a man making pot noodles in our kitchen. I’m a fairly average height and he was considerably more than a foot taller than me. He was built like an athlete, and indeed I later found out that was what he was. He seemed slightly older, but probably not a mature student – a grad student perhaps. His arms were about as wide as my waist, his thighs about as wide as my whole body. His chest was so broad I felt I could curl up into a ball and sleep on it as it rose and fell like a cat.
“Oh hi, I think we’re neighbours, I’m…. ” Unthinkingly I finished his sentence. He didn’t show a trace of embarrassment, just said “yeah, sorry about that – thin walls huh?” and walked back down our corridor.
I was motionless for a while, and then realised I needed to change my underwear. I also realised I didn’t want another day to go by without having had him.
That didn’t seem too hard though did it? I knew where he lived, we’re both clearly single and up for it. And I know his type and I was very much it. This would surely be one of my easier seductions.
I walked back to my room and as I did so I bumped into him again, he’d grabbed a towel and his washbag and was clearly heading for the showers. He gave me a salute as he walked past and disappeared around the corner.
Right then I had an idea, and almost immediately found that my heart was in my mouth because I knew the moment I thought it that I was going to do it. My mind barely registered conscious thought again as I tried his door handle, found as I expected that he had left it unlocked, slipped into his room, wriggled out of my clothing, and dove under the covers of his regulation dorm bed.
Only then, lying naked in a stranger’s bed in what was the relative dark of a strangers’ dorm room in late autumn, curtains drawn over tiny windows, did the enormity of what I’d done hit me. And by then it was too late to go back, so I started to play with myself – partly to stave off the panic and partly because I was incredibly turned on.
He came back much sooner than I expected and I was taken by surprise by the bright light as he swept into the room, body of a god wrapped in what was probably quite a large towel but looked like a small towel on him. He saw me on the bed, and his jaw dropped open wide, but I think I saw something besides shock there – a cheeky insolence.
“I heard we had similar interests”, I said slightly lamely.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/oiq9qc/thin_walls_pt_1_mf_long
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