Chapter 2 - Willow
I stare at the two Halloween costume choices laid out on my bed and huff at my best friend, Alice, on the phone.
“If this party is a freeuse party and I’m going to fuck a bunch of guys, why do I even need a costume?”
Alice’s soft laugh doesn’t help my anxiety, and the butterflies in my stomach swirl faster. Am I overthinking this?
She replies, “Because it’s festive. Just pick one. What’re your choices?”
I study the options. “Sexy black cat or a sexy policewoman. You were right. All the other costumes were either too weird or out of my price range.”
This is what I get for last-minute online shopping. It was slim pickings to get a costume delivered before today. My hands tremble from nervousness and I fight the urge to call off going to the party. This is a horrible idea.
Alice urges me, “Willow, just pick one!”
Grabbing the cop outfit, I sigh. “I think the cop. I’ll look like a desperate, horny woman in uniform. That’ll tempt people to fuck me.”
She snorts. “It’s called freeuse. You don’t need to tempt them.”
She has a good point. My nervousness eases a little and my core tightens with lust as I daydream about how it’ll feel to have a cock sliding inside me.
How many men are going to fuck me tonight?
I stare critically at the tight blue shorts with the fake belt.
Why didn’t I choose a costume with easy access?
Someone’ll have to pull my shorts down to fuck me.
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. I glance at the mirror hanging on the back of my closet and try to imagine what the guys at the party will think when they see me.
I’m attractive—I know I am, but I also know looks aren’t everything.
I’ve got a list of issues a mile long, and five months of therapy have barely scratched the surface.
No one is going to want to date me – not that I’m looking for a relationship – but I think I’m fuckable… or at least, I hope so.
Shit, why did I decide to do this? Oh yeah, I know exactly why I’m doing this. Today is my 25th birthday and I’m a virgin. I feel like the freak of all my friends and I continually lie to them about my sex life. Who in the hell is still a virgin at 25?
I was dating Oliver-the-Asshole for seven years, and no one would believe we didn’t have actual P-in-V sex.
Sure, lots of oral sex, but Oliver had a problem.
..specifically, a premature ejaculation problem.
Whenever his cock touched my pussy, he instantly came.
I tried to kindly suggest that maybe he should talk to a doctor, but he shut the door on those conversations quickly.
But I was blinded by love, and it’s not like I was going to toss him out of my life for his problem.
He tried to satisfy me in other ways, even though that never worked either.
It got to where it seemed as if he was trying to win by making me orgasm, and the pressure made it even less enjoyable for me.
It was pleasurable, but since he couldn’t just accept that I liked sex for the connection, I learned how to fake an orgasm.
I just don’t understand what the big deal is about sex.
It’s been six months since Oliver-the-Asswipe left me, and it’s time to become a super slut so that someday I don’t look back and regret my 20s. What better way to do it than at a freeuse party?
Alice whines again. “Willow! We both need to leave to make it there in time before the trick-or-treaters swarm the streets.”
I sigh because she’s right. I’d feel better if we were going together. But since we’re using a ride-sharing app and live across town from each other, we’re meeting up at the party. My phone alerts me that the driver is close. Eep! I better get a move on.
I grab my costume off the bed. “Okay, Alice. See you at the party. I’ll be the sexy cop wearing the tiniest pair of shorts known to man.”
She laughs. “Oh, trust me, the shorts will come right off once you get in the house. Now go, go, go! See you soon!”
She hangs up and I shimmy into my ass-hugging shorts over a pair of sexy red panties.
The shorts are so tiny, they show off my butt cheeks.
But they’re stretchy, and my ass is one of my best features.
I quickly toss on the fake uniform top. It makes my tits look fabulous, though you can see a bit of the red lace of my bra.
It only adds to my slutty vibe. Once I get the fake belt on, I look surprisingly cute.
I just hope no one expects me to act like I’m in charge tonight.
With only seconds to spare, I twist my long brown hair into a severe topknot—I’m a no-nonsense cop, after all—and slip on black combat boots. My phone pings that the car is right outside my apartment, and I hurry out the door as I shove my phone in a small clutch purse.
When I climb into the backseat, the driver smiles politely and pretends he doesn’t notice my bare legs.
Shit, these shorts are so tight, I probably have a camel toe.
My stomach flutters from a mix of apprehension and excitement as the driver makes a few attempts at small talk.
When I’m not chatty back, he falls silent.
Can I really do this? A low hum of desire makes me squirm in the seat. Even though my mind is thinking I’m crazy, my pussy is ready to board the slut bus and buy the t-shirt. I’ve been wet for days thinking just about the party. Who gives themselves up for anyone to use for their first time?
I mean, it’s not like I haven’t had fingers up there, but the real problem is that I can’t orgasm.
Oliver-the-Douche tried, and nothing happened other than a few pleasant moments.
I thought maybe it was him, but even when I was alone, I always ended up thinking about my to-do list, or my college assignments.
I read online that some women just can’t, and eventually I gave up trying.
That’s why tonight is perfect. The goal isn’t to orgasm – hell, are the guys even going to try to make the women orgasm?
I can lose my virginity without overthinking everything, and without the expectation that it’s going to be mind-blowing.
Plus, I’d really like to know what an actual cock feels like.
If my parents weren’t such assholes, I could have talked to my mom about this.
They had me late in life and they never wanted a child.
I was an accident when my mom was 41. Whenever I did something wrong as a kid, my mom would grumble and say she should have made other choices before I was born.
My therapist and I are still unpacking that.
So yeah…my childhood was fucked up. It’s probably why I stayed with Oliver-the-Asshat for way too long.
He’s the first person who loved me. Or I thought he did, until he cheated on me and was able to have sex with another woman.
He then blamed me for his years of sexual dysfunction.
I doubt my magical pussy made him come so quickly, but I guess if a bunch of guys lose it before fucking me tonight, I’ll know if I have a mystical vag.
Talk about a superpower no one wants. I can’t orgasm AND no guy can fuck me.
I snort, and the driver gives me a questioning look in the rearview mirror.
I smile sweetly at him before peering out the window at the passing houses—or rather, mansions.
Shit, this neighborhood is swanky. It makes my studio apartment in a shady part of town seem like a real dump, but it’s all I can afford right now.
I’m not exactly making the big bucks at my job as a barista, and I try not to dwell on the social services degree I’m not using—or the student loan that came with it.
When we pull up at the address, the street is crowded with cars. A rush of adrenaline makes me almost giddy. I hope Alice is already here. She’s the only person I’ll know tonight. I need moral support, or my mind might win the battle against my pussy and make me run away.
Even as I have that thought, I know it isn’t true.
I’ve been working up to this day for weeks and nothing will stop me from my ultimate plan to be a complete slut for my 25th birthday.
The fact that people are going to use me is why I’m here.
I don’t want to think or make any decisions.
I want someone to just bend me over and take me.
The driver tells me the cost of the fare, and I pay on my phone before getting out. The smell of wood smoke coming from a nearby fireplace greets me, and the sounds of laughter in the distance helps to remind me that tonight is all about good times and pleasure.
Halloween is my favorite holiday. People get to dress up in crazy costumes and eat tons of candy. It sucked as a birthday because everyone usually had plans, but it’s not like I had friends anyway. Alice has been my only friend since elementary school.
My phone beeps with a message.
Alice:
Hey, so my ride got in a fender bender and I’m going to be late. Everyone is fine, but I can’t leave yet. Don’t go too crazy without me, but if you’re busy when I get there, I won’t bug you. See you soon!
Oh fuck. I quickly text back.
Willow
Thanks bitch. I mean, see you soon!
Oh god, can I do this alone? I only hesitate for a moment. Well, it’s not like I planned to stick close to her while fucking other people. That would just be weird. We made an agreement to ditch each other as soon as we checked in.
Yep, I can do this. I square my shoulders, stand as tall as my 5 foot 3 inch frame allows, and strut towards the front door. Time to put out and take some cock.
It’s showtime.