Dirty White Candy, The Beginning, Book 1 (3 page)

“It’s okay, Candy.
 
This is just education.
 
No one expects you to use all this stuff.”
 
She rubbed my shoulder.
 
“It’s just the three of us and after what you just saw here an hour ago, this is a cake walk.”

I nodded.

Babs continued.
 
“Everything on the far end of the table is for anal play, bondage or S&M, so we’ll cover that some other time.
 
In the middle of the table, we have strap-on dildos.
 
This is for play with other women, or in some cases with a man who likes to receive anal penetration.
 
One woman puts the harness on with a dildo made to fit inside.
  
You see this disk here?”

I gulped and nodded as she pointed at a round flat part on the end of a dildo.

“This rubs against the clitoris of the woman wearing the harness so that she gets pleasured while she’s fucking the other woman, or man in some cases.”
 
Before I could fall off my chair, she stood up and handed me a bag.
 
“Your friend Stacy has regular parties for me and has really built up the host credits.
 
So she put them toward a gift bag for you.
 
The only thing you have to do is pick out the dildo that’s right for you and toss it in the bag.”

My mouth fell slack as I gazed at Stacy.

“What are girlfriends for?”
 
Her eyebrows were scrunched in the most hopeful and supportive way.
 
She forced a grin.
 
“If I can give you one piece of advice, get a model slightly larger than What’s-his-face.”

A nervous smile was all I could muster, drunken state starting to set in.
 
Figuring that she knew more than me, I grabbed a package containing a dildo that was the next size up from my ex and tossed it in the bag.

“I’ve had enough for one night.”

Babs started packing her toys in suitcases.

Stacy and I retreated to the patio for a smoke.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Candy?”
 
Stacy asked as she put her arm around my shoulder.
 
“I know it is a lot to take in.”

“It’s okay.
 
I sort of asked for it.
 
I guess I have a lot to learn.
 
Holy shit though!
 
Do all women do that sort of thing at a toy party?”
 
I took a long drag off the cigarette, offering the silence Stacy needed to answer.

I watched Stacy’s silky black hair whip over her shoulder as she laughed.
 
“I’m so sorry.
 
I should have warned you that my friends are very sexually evolved.”
 
She patted my leg.

She’d been doing that a lot that night – touching me.
 
She kept patting me, like her lap dog
.
 
I wonder what that’s about?

“Evolved doesn’t begin to describe what I saw tonight.”
 
I shook my head and waved off my comment.
 
“Really, I know the shock on my face was hard to hide, but thank you for inviting me tonight.
 
I’m still timid, I’ll admit.
 
But at least now I’m curious and willing to learn.”

Babs walked out onto the terrace.
 
There was no way she was done packing already.

“Here you go, darlin’.
 
This is a sex therapist friend of mine.
 
Give her a call.
 
Your first appointment is on the house.”
 
Babs didn’t wait for me to react.
 
She simply shoved the card in my hand, went back in the house, grabbing her suitcases on the way out the door.

“Funny.
 
She’s all business.
 
It’s just that her business is orgasms.”
 

Stacy’s look of admiration for the woman threw me a little.
 
I forced a smile through my drunken and shocked state.

“Look Candy, there’s a whole world out there.
 
There are people who
 
would line up to fuck you, but you really have to open yourself up and be comfortable with yourself first.
 
The more comfortable you become with yourself sexually, the easier it is to enjoy yourself with others.”

“I don’t understand.”
 
I sipped at my drink, knowing I’d already had too much.
 
My mind simply could not handle the situation without a buzz.

“Okay, people who are sexually, shall we say, knowledgeable, they’re going to get bored with someone who doesn’t know whether or not they like face, or dick, or clit play or ass play or whatever.
 
I mean, you always have your doms out there who…”

“What are doms?”

“Dominants.
 
And you are
so
not ready for that yet.
 
Look.
 
It’s hard to get you caught up on ten years of inexperienced sexual encounters.
 
Most women have their slutty college years to have new experiences.
 
You took night classes and worked during the day and took care of that douche bag.
 
Now, you have to get caught up.
 
But I promise that if you do, you’ll be so much more… “
 
she stared at the block patio searching for the right words, “just more.
 
You’ll feel more alive, more sexual, sexy, naughty, empowered.
 
You’ll feel all of those things.
 
But you have to cross the threshold first.”

My eyes struggled to focus on one point.
 
I was definitely drunk.
 
There was a slight buzzing in my ears and I was struggling to focus.

“Let me call you a cab.
 
Send me a text when you get home so that I know you made it.”

“Yeah,” I giggled, “I’m drunk.”

I woke the next morning sluggish and slow.
 
My head was pounding and I just wanted it to stop.
 
I forced a cup of coffee and toast down my throat along with a few ibuprofen.
 

Lying on the couch and wishing I would die, my memory started to return.
 
I looked over my shoulder to see the gift bag staring me in the face.
 
There were torture devices in there.
 
They were lying in wait to do terrible things to me.

I moaned and covered my head with a pillow.
 
After two more hours of sleep, the headache was gone.
 
I glanced at the clock.
 
Noon! Great!
  
I was sleeping the day away.

I climbed in the shower, which felt good.
 
I thought sobriety had finally graced me until I bent over to wrap my hair in a towel.
 
The room spun once more.
 
Ugh.

Plopping back on the couch I began looking through my text messages.
 
I did manage to send a one word text to Stacy that said, “Hominy.”
 
Hopefully she got the point.

There was a message from her waiting to be read.

Are you alive?
 
I assume Hominy meant I’m home.
 
Text a bitch and let me know you’re alive!

I smiled.
 
After a few moments, I sent a text in reply.

Alive.
 
Staring at a rather frightening looking gift bag.
 
Fighting the mother of all hangovers.

The black and blood red bag sat on the chair.
 
I stared at it.
 
I was eager to be sexually free… to be the one to
 
jump on a table, vagina at the ready to come in front of others.
 
But the bag scared me.
 
I grinned, being a Marketing Executive myself, I appreciated the gift bag that looked like red stockings with black lace.
 
It was clever packaging.
 
Not discreet, mind you, but clever.

The cell phone buzzing in my hand startled me.
 
I clicked on the screen.

Don’t bother with the bag until you feel up to it.
 
Then view the DVD before you do anything.

Clever little wench!
 
I ordered delivery and turned the TV on, flipping through channels before I decided on a cooking show.
  
My body felt heavy as I waited for the food to arrive.
 
My hair was still in a towel and the weight was pulling on my neck.

Why did I need to drink so much?
 
Oh, yeah.
 
The bag, the night, the naked lady being masturbated on the dining room table.
 
Those were the reasons for my massive alcohol consumption.

Several hours of lethargic lounging on the couch had gone by.
 
I had enough waiting.
 
Grabbing the bag off the chair, I dumped it on the coffee table.
 
The DVD Stacy had insisted I watch was a porno.
 

Knowing I’d just rolled my eyes, I unwrapped the DVD anyway and popped it in the machine.
 
While the introductions were rolling I looked at the other items.
 
There were three different vibrators, the dildo I had selected, a harness for a strap on, which consciously, or unconsciously, I’d picked a dildo that would also fit in the harness.
 
There was also a variety of lubrication.

I shuffled the items on the coffee table, noting that Stacy had the foresight to include batteries.
 
I had never used a toy on myself.
 
There was no reason for my lack of experience.
 
It wasn’t that my mind was too closed, quite the contrary.
 
The thought to purchase something like this for myself had never crossed my mind.

I opened the end of the vibrator and popped in two AAA batteries.
 
When I twisted the end, the vibration startled me at first.
 
Glancing at the screen, feeling quite embarrassed, the couple was already groping each other’s genitals.
 
The woman’s breasts were abnormally large and she was squeezing and pulling at them in a way that did not look pleasurable at all.

I skipped to the next scene.
 
The music was absurd, which made me giggle.
 
She was built a little more naturally and the guy was not very attractive, but his manhood looked like it belonged on a hooved animal.

“Ouch.”

I picked up my phone to text Stacy.

Do all porn stars suffer from elephantitis of the genitals?

With a groan I forwarded onto the next scene and had to turn the volume all the way down to avoid hearing the gagging noise the girl was making as the guy was forcing his dick down her throat.
 
She also did not look like she was having a good time.
 
My cell chimed in a message from Stacy.

You kill me.
 
It’s a good DVD because each scene is from a different kind of porn.
 
Find one you like and you’ll know what sort of porn you like.
 
Enjoy!

What a bitch.
 
Being so far behind was pissing me off.
 
I skipped to the next scene.
 
The man looked somewhat like a bad boy with a slightly large, but reasonable dick.
 
The girl’s breasts were on the larger side of a “c” cup but looked real enough.
 
Finally, I could relate.
 
They were kissing before he started spanking her.
 
Since the volume was down, I had no idea why she’d deserved the punishment, but seeing her bent over and taking it on the backside, I was intrigued.