First Times: Amber

First Times

by Natalie Deschain

***

Copyright 2014 Natalie Deschain

nataliedeschain.com

Sign up here for email updates!

This is a work of fiction, featuring consenting adults in sexual situations.

Amber

I lost my virginity while I was hitchhiking.

It was kind of a rough time in my life, as you can imagine, since, well, I was hitchhiking. I had maybe fifty dollars worth of stuff to my name and I needed to get out of town. I was stupid, but I was young, just turned nineteen. I should have gone to somebody for help. A shelter, maybe even the cops. My mother threw me out the year before, right when I enrolled in community college. She said I wasn’t her problem anymore now that I was grown. To be brutally honest, she’d never been much of a mother. I wore hand-me-downs and second hand clothes while she wore designer fashions, drove a sleek German luxury car and strutted around town like she was queen shit of fuck mountain. Me? I had to make due with what I had. So I ended up with the bad kids in school. It kinda happens naturally when you’re poor. When you’re broke all the time, even the goths don’t want you to sit at their table. I had a job, but it didn’t matter. I don’t know, maybe it’s different in big cities or something, but in the little one stoplight town I came from, there was a clear social structure and I didn’t fit in the good parts of it, even if I spent my whole paycheck on clothes, trying to fit in.

It makes me tear up a little thinking about it.

The worst part was, I didn’t even like boys. In those days, that wasn’t a thing you said. Maybe it was watching my mother primp herself up to hit the town with one of her
boyfriends
(read: johns), or maybe it’s just something about me, but I never really liked being a girl. That was a major source of friction between us. I thought dolls were stupid. I wanted a guitar. I wanted to go hunting. I do like to sew, but how is that girly? Is taking care of yourself girly? I digress.

So, I was living with my boyfriend. It wasn’t so bad at first. He was the type, you’d know him if you saw him. Lanky greasy hair, a little pudgy, but with that certain something in him that just clicks in a vulnerable, beaten down person like me and makes it easy to manipulate. I paid most of the bills, believe it or not. My job at the pharmacy in town kept me flush with cash, in a town where a studio rents for four-fifty a month. Yeah, we had a one room place, with a little galley kitchen and a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in. It was really my apartment, since half the time he lived there he didn’t have a job. His name was Brad, and Brad wanted one thing out of me. I think he believed it was just a matter of time, because he put a lot of time into it- over seven months.

Might as well get it right out in the open. I blew him. If that counts as losing my virginity I guess I lost it to him, but I hated it. I almost threw up. It became a weekly thing. He got off on the look of disgust on my face, the way I would only gingerly hold his cock in my mouth, my lips wrapped around the shaft until he pulled my hair and started fucking my face. It was enough to stay in ‘his’ apartment and keep him from pushing me any further, so I agreed. I never swallowed it, though. No matter how many times he tried to talk me into it, he never tried that.

My last night living there, he tried for more. I wouldn’t have it. There was an… altercation. I think I came out better. I just got a black eye. He got a kick to the balls with steel-toed boots that left him gibbering on the floor while I packed my shit into my old backpack and rushed out of there with all my worldly goods in a straining cheap bag and my entire savings, less than a hundred bucks, stuffed down my pockets. If I wasn’t so luck I’d have been leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire. It was August, pretty warm, not so cold at night. I started walking. I was out of town by midnight, and by the time the sun came up in the distance and made the highway shimmer, it was far enough behind me to grow small when I looked back over my shoulder. Like I said, not much of a plan.

It was about the point I squatted in a ditch to take my first piss that I realized this wasn’t much of a plan. The next town was almost fifty miles over. I thought I’d walked maybe ten. If I walked at about three miles an hour, it should only take me a day to get there, but I didn’t even have a bottle of water, and what was I going to do when I arrived? None of that mattered when I was jogging away from the only home I’d ever known, in the middle of the night, trying to erase the memory of spitting out maybe fifty loads of semen from a guy that only cared about training me into a fuck doll. I spent most of that time beating myself up and going over and over how worthless I had to be to let that happen to me. I should have told him no the first time, not let him wear me down.

Oh honey, it’s not that big of a deal. Come on, you won’t sleep with me, just the one time…
fucker told me he’d warn me before he popped. The first time I had to fight between rinsing my mouth and trying not to puke, and he smacked my ass and said
good girl
.

Standing out there in the middle of nowhere, in utter despair, I realized how much I hated him. So fuck you, Brad.

You know what the really funny part is? I didn’t even stick out my thumb. You know, like a cartoon? I was just walking down the road when I hear a horn beep and look over my shoulder, and her comes the camper from hell.

This thing didn’t look like it would make it another five feet. The sides were covered with rust, and it was a model made before Richard Nixon took office, I think. Where it wasn’t speckled with a patina of rust, it was painted in a riot of colors- spray painted some places, painted with a roller in others, with, like, house paint. This thing came rolling up and I danced off the road, down the sloping shoulder as it comes to a stop next to me and the door on the side swings open. Out leans a girl not much older than me, maybe five years at the oldest. She was dressed a lot like me, ripped jeans and a t-shirt, and she had pink hair. The sides of her head were shaved clean, like some kind of ancient Egyptian warrior. She was smoking, and it wasn’t a cigarette. I knew the smell rolling out of the rusty contraption well enough.

“Hey,” she shouted. “You need a ride?”

“I’m fine. I’m walking.”

She took a deep puff and held the cigarette in her hands.

“Come on, it’s like five hundred fuckin’ miles to the next town. You’re gonna get eat by a coyote or some shit. Get in the van.”

For all my bravado, I didn’t feel like the bad girl. I shuffled on my feet a little, and then, without saying anything, trudged over and peered inside.

The camper was pretty big, and it was old. They had a couch, on which two other girls my age sat. One had a completely shaved head, but it didn’t detract from her looks at
all
. I mean, she was stunning, like model stunning, with olive skin and big, slightly tilted green eyes. The one sitting next to her had long flowing locks, but her hair was sky blue, and she was topless. Her hair covered her big breasts but I don’t think she was doing it on purpose, it was just how it fell across her body. I stared at her chest way too long, watching the subtle way her chest moved when she breathed.

“Hey,” a voice called, “She coming, or what? We can’t sit here too long. I don’t wanna get pulled over.”

The driver was another girl. I didn’t get a good look at her.

The one who’d opened the door motioned me in.

“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” she said, and took another puff on her joint. “Get in.”

For some reason I still can’t quite understand, I climbed up those steps and she slammed the door shut. I leaned on the wall as the camper started moving. The driver had black hair in a tight bob, pale skin, and she was wearing only a long shirt that covered her to the knee and was about five sizes too big.

“Uh, Hi,” I said.

The pink-haired girl stood next to me, swaying a little with the motion of the camper, grinning.

“Hi yourself. I’m Chastity.”

The topless one with the blue hair snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“This is Melody,” said Chastity, batting her azure-coifed head. The clean shaven one scooted to the side and patted the middle of the couch.

“I’m Razor,” she said, in a voice like honeysuckle.

“Sarah,” said the driver.

I sat down in the middle of the couch. Chastity offered me her joint and I waved it away. I held my bag between my legs, trying not to invade Melody’s personal space. She didn’t seem to care. The couch bounced me in the way that couches with bad springs do as she shifted in her seat and turned to face me, casually brushing her hair over her shoulder. Which exposed her breasts. I felt my throat tighten and heat creep up my cheeks. Look, it’s expect that a girl spend some time naked or barely clothed around other girls, and my mother was not shy about her body, as you can imagine, but Melody had the most beautiful breasts I have ever see. Calling them nice tits or a good rack or something would be insulting, unworthy of their magnificence, two perfectly rounded, perky mounds of soft flesh too big to cup in a single hand, tipped with pale pink nipples, hard from the chill in the camper. I realized I was staring and caught her eyes. Grinning like the cat that caught the canary, she shifted in her seat again and stretched out a little, so the outer curve of her breast pressed against the bare skin of my arm. It was so soft, and smooth.

Chastity sat down in front of the couch in the lotus position. I jumped when I felt hot breath on my ear. Razor liked to lean in to talk.

“So, where are you headed?”

“Anywhere but here,” I said.

She touched my cheek, where the bruise was still throbbing from where Brad hit me. I winced.

“Somebody hit you?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“At least you didn’t try to say you fell down some stairs,” said Chastity. She tapped ashes in a cereal bowl and handed the joint over to Melody, who took a long draw. I watched the way her chest heaved as she breathed the intoxicating smoke into her lungs, and again the way they shuddered as she breathed out a long breath and her shoulders hitched. Once more I waved off the joint, and Razor took it for her puff, and leaned back into the seat.

She put her hand on my seat and rubbed.

“Tell us everything,” she said.

Her voice was unbelievable, like some sort of auditory chocolate. There was a hint of an accent I couldn’t place, and I noticed the subtle tattoo on her cheeks, a matching pattern in blue inked lines. She had long eyelashes, and her eyes were amazing. I looked away and tucked my shoulders in, and looked down at my boots.

I gave them the short version. They finished the joint, listening intently, not asking questions, they just let me talk. I never smoked any, but I was tempted. Some bad girl I was.

Melody leaned back against the wall.

“So where are you going to go now?” said Razor.

That’s when I started crying. It was one of those really pathetic cries, that started out with me just sitting there, tears streaming down my cheeks, and only later started sobbing. Melody put her arm around me and pulled me to her chest, and I buried my face in her soft breasts and sobbed. I put my arms around her and she just let me cry, until I finished and sat up, my face burning red. Razor slipped her fingers through my hair, teasing my scalp with her long nails, and a shivery feeling flooded through my body.

“You can ride with us for as long as you want,” said Melody.

“We should give her drugs,” said Sarah, from the front seat. She didn’t talk much.

“I don’t want any drugs,” I said.

“You don’t have to have any drugs,” said Melody. “So you pretty much have no idea where you’re going?”

“No,” I confessed.

“So, come with us,” said Chastity. “We’re going to a music festival.”

“Oh. You guys like festivals?”

“Like them? We’re a band.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, all that shit’s in the back,” said Melody. “We’re the Steel Sisters.”

“Oh.”

“You can be our roadie,” said Chastity.

“Hey,” said Sarah. “Gas, grass, or ass. Nobody rides for free.”

“She’s not going to take up too much space, right?” said Melody, eyeing me.

“We’re gonna pull in for the night at the next town,” said Sarah. “I don’t want to be on the road too late.”

“Yeah. Get us some food.”

When Sarah pulled the camper through a drive-through, I tried to chip in what I had, but Melody stopped me. The smell of cheap burgers and chicken nuggets filled the camper. I sat on the floor and ate and sucked on an orange soda.

The weirdest thing happened. Melody sat down behind me after she finished her burger, and started brushing my hair. I froze at first, not sure how to process it, but relaxed as she hummed quietly to herself and ran the brush through my locks.

“You feel any better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“You’re bunking with me,” she said.

I swallowed, and almost choked on a chicken nugget. It made sense. There were only so many places to sleep. Sarah drove to another parking lot and closed the curtains over the front windows, and climbed out from the driver’s seat. She was a very tall woman, powerfully muscled with a big bust. Even her legs were corded with muscle. There was a bunk over the front seats. Melody took off her jeans and climbed up there, exposing long, pale legs and, well, granny panties. I mean they were completely conservative. Chastity actually put on more clothes to sleep. She, Sarah, and Razor slept on the folded out couch while I climbed up into the bunk. It was a double bed but it was a tight fit. Melody laid on her side, facing me. I tried to lay on top of the blankets but she threw them over me, trapping our heat together.