The time I realized I was a whore.

I never claimed to be in love, mostly because I didn’t believe in love. I walked the halls of highschool smiling and flashing whatever pieces of skin I could get away with, but now things were different.

My knees pinned a new guy to the mattress between my thighs, all of our clothes removed in the hallway. I arch my back over his hard stomach, placing my breasts at his angled chin, my head to the left of his, bending my neck so that my lips are at his ear. “You’ve been a bad boy.” I whispered using the most basic line ever. He jostled a little under me as if to show me he could be bad. A giggled escaped my mouth and something flicked in his eyes. Anger? Curiosity? Hunger.

“I have been bad, but no ones ever shown me anything worth being good for.” He said with an evil grin. I gave him a sultry smile and a wink as rotated my hips. I felt the little rise of his penis on my pussy. Damn. Another small one, I thought.

The movement of my hips faltered a second as I closed my eyes and glimpsed blonde hair, green-blue eyes, and sweat stained skin, pure joy. My euphoria. This guy didn’t look anything like my Nicholas. His eyes are hard steel gray, his hair a orangish red, with a dark brown red beard, a slightly bloated stomach, small dick, and his hands were soft, no calluses from manual labor or exercise. What had I done?

In this moment, red hair flipped me to bottom taking my lack of movement as a go a head. Why did he remind me of Nick? No, not Nick he reminded me of the person he caught me with. By now red hair guy had his face between my boobs squeezing on each side. They were exactly a like. They were both looking for a dirty girl. Am I a dirty girl? Just as the thought pops into my head I hear the clink of a handcuff then another. I was so zoned out I hadn’t realized he’d even moved. He tilts my head back and spreads my legs revealing wet pussy, he then picks my legs up and places them on his shoulders as he thrusts his cock into me. I am not as disappointed as I thought I’d be. I’m even a little thrilled. He runs his hands up my chest landing on my neck. These hands so soft, so wrong and uncaring.

My mind won’t shut off he is in there. The hands on my neck tighten a little and I thrash my arms so red hair tightens his grip. I’m still getting air, his face, his eyes, his hands, his lips, his body. The air is becoming less, this red hair guy is looking more like Nick. But he’s not. I need to stop. I can’t feel anything anything anymore but I can hear my own moans and the red hair guys grunts as my vision becomes spotty with white and black. I know I’m a whore. I’ve lived as one I guess I’ll die as one I thought. Then nothing.