My Story Ch. 02

What's wrong with me? I've never really felt this way before. A permanent sense of horniness, a permanent tingle in my pussy. I've felt something like this before, but always only after a few tequilas or vodkas, when the music's loud and his hands are all over my body. But it's barely past lunch, I'm as sober as our senior minister Lee Kuan Yew and there's neither guy nor music. And yet I've never felt hornier. Is it the window, with its curtains drawn open, the afternoon sunlight streaming through, my naked body on the couch in full view for anybody passing by on the corridor? I stroke my clit lazily, planning the rest of the afternoon. I want to go downstairs to the food center for lunch. I want to be bold and daring and wear something skimpy and flashy. I want to go downstairs naked in public, but I'm not ready. I dare not.

I decide on a loose blouse and skirt with no panties or bra. My skirt is plaited and short, reaching only to mid-thigh. My blouse is tucked out, with only 2 buttons done up, my cleavage on display and if you're looking from the right angle, you might catch a glimpse of my nipples.

I go downstairs, walking the four floors. My skirt bounces as I move – I wonder if my pussy can be seen? It's only two hundred meters through a car park and another couple blocks of flats and I'm at the food center – a hawker center we call it here in Singapore. It's open air and damp and a bit dirty but the food is fantastic – over thirty stalls and really crowded. I feel stares from the menagerie of people in the hawker center. What is this siao zha bo (crazy woman in hokkien, a dialect) doing here dressed like that? So shameful! Like a prostitute like that. My flip-flops flip and flop as I look for a stall that I like. I walk a full round of the hawker center, making my presence known. Oh God. I'm so damn horny. I'm such a slut. What am I doing? What am I doing? Oh shit.

I find the noodle stall – I haven't eaten here for some time, so why not? I order a bowl of noodles, and sit at a table nearby. A table away, six teenage gangster wannabes "Ah-bengs" we call them – sit and eat and swear loudly in dialect and English. I shift around on the stool I'm sitting on so that my butt flesh is on the seat, feeling the dirty plastic. Oh shit – I'll have to bathe later. My pussy drips in anticipation. I cross and uncross my legs under the table a couple of times then finally leave them wide open. Knees far apart. I make eye contact with one of the boys, and then immediately gaze away. But a moment is all I need. I suddenly feel six stares on me and the loud swearing softens. They've made me. From the corner of my eye, I see them stare at my naked pussy underneath the table. I'm red now, but I don't cross my legs. I'm blushing like mad but my pussy's really going now, dripping wet. My clit is yearning to be rubbed and I do it, surreptitiously, but the boys see everything. Oh shit. I'm such a slut. I'm such a slut. I wonder if any of them has had sex before. Are they virgins? How big are their dicks? I'm crazy.

My noodles arrive. I pay the man, who takes his time counting the change because he can see down my blouse. I shift a bit and I think he can see my right nipple because suddenly he drops some coins on the floor, which roll underneath the table, and then his face is only feet away from my pussy. Oh shit. Oh shit. I'm crazy. I'm a crazy slut. Why am I doing this? Why? I'm going crazy. The man bumps his head on the underside of the table as he gets up. He hands me my change and grins stupidly, mouth slightly agape. He leaves, and I see one of the teenagers at the other table wipe drool from his chin. I finish the noodles, not too quickly, though, and then I stand up to leave. That's a cue for one of the boys to come over to me. He can't be more than 18, with his bleached hair and tight shirt. And a bulge in his pants.

"Eh, ah, Miss...ah. We ah. We enjoyed the. Ah. Show. Yah. I mean, you very pretty one. Yah. So eh. Can I have your phone number. Ah. Yah. Just to call and chat ah." He stutters – English is not his best subject in school. I force a smile, dying inside, knowing that he's seen all my secrets and I'm blushing like mad. I put on my best lawyer face, and say. "No. Lick my ass, cock sucker, and I might consider. But for now, you gotta be 18 and above to ride." Then I wink and sashay away, burning up inside because I'm dying of embarrassment. I hope nobody I knew saw me. That's one thing living in blocks and blocks of impersonal flats – sometimes, nobody knows anybody else. I feel the boys' stare on me until I get out of sight.

I get back to my block, and walk up the five floors. There's no one around today, and the corridor that leads to my flat is devoid of people. I'm all tingling with excitement and shame at what I've done at the hawker center – I hope the boys don't forget it too quickly. I'm a slut. Oh god what's wrong with me? Along the corridor, I slip out of my blouse and skirt, and pray no one sees me. Which is weird because I want people to see me naked like this. What am I doing? What? At the door, I struggle with my keys. I can't seem to get them to fit into the keyhole because I'm shaking all over. I'm trembling with fear. I can hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and the sound the lift makes when it arrives on the floor. I'm not sure if it's just my imagination, but I drop the keys because I'm so bloody scared. Oh god. I'm naked with my clothes under my arm and I can't get my door to work. The pussy juices are flowing down my inner thighs now, my nipples at full attention. The hot Singaporean air feels cool on my skin.

Footsteps turn the corner and my lock turns, my naked body tumbling into my flat. Was I seen? Was I seen? I don't know. Oh crap. Why am I doing this? Indoors, I rub myself to a fantastic, fantastic orgasm. So fantastic. I can't stop myself from making those groans and moans loud and long. I hope no one calls an ambulance by mistake.

The afternoon flies past in a haze – I'm expected for dinner at my parent's place. I dress up, the first time I've put on clothes since yesterday. It feels strange, constricting and yet familiar. I plan to go clubbing later, dancing at the nightclubs with some friends, so I pick out a black tube dress that my 34C- 24- 33 body can slip into easily. It's a modest sort, reaching to my knees. I wear a pink camisole over to cover my bare shoulders, then put on moderate heels which are comfortable enough to dance in.

Dinner at my parent's place is a routine, greetings to them both and my elder sister, who lives with her husband and two really cute children there, then a meal followed by some television and chit chat about the neighbours and school. Then the kids file off to bed, and I excuse myself to go clubbing. My friends are waiting for me at Clarke Quay, one of the busy strips of bars and nightclubs next to the Singapore River.

"Sue, you quite fast tonight ah. Only kept us waiting 15 minutes this time. See lah, because of you we might miss the ladies night promotion at Zephyr."

"Sorry...my parents kept me busy." I replied. All six of my close friends, all girls, ready to paint the town red. Tube tops, handkerchief tops, halters, micro skirts, mini skirts, hot pants. Not quite slutty. But we had fun, and that was the most important bit. I folded the top of my tube in, so that it was shortened and now the skirt reached slightly above mid-thigh, good for showing off leg, which I know I have, and the occasional thong flash.

We pay a low rate of $15 to get into the nightclub, teasing the bouncers, and it's not long before we're hitting the tequilas and vodka limes, and dancing our skirts off. I'm sweaty from gyrating to the pulse poundingly loud music. My camisole is in my handbag kept at the bag counter, and I know the men like what they see when they look at me. I sit at the bar for a rest, sipping my 3rd vodka lime. My chest is heaving, my pretty firm tits unsupported by any bra or wire.

"Hola."

I turn around, in direction of the greetings. It's a good-looking guy, with a goatee. Looks kinda dashing, confident. The suave sort. I'm bought. "Alone tonight?"

"With friends."

"Ah. Jason." He sticks out a hand, his voiced controlled and smooth, raised over the loud music.

"Sue. Nice to meet you."

We chat a bit – he's an engineer working with the Defense Science and Technology Agency, DSTA, slightly older than me and is currently single. He wants to have sex and so do I, but not just yet. So we trade handphone numbers and business cards.

2 AM.

I stumble into my flat, tired and reeking of alcohol and smoke. I close the door behind me and then.

The door flies open.

Rough hands grab me.

Faces masked in shadows.

Dialect. Swearing.

More hands. Over my mouth.

Trying to scream.

Cold steel on the skin of my neck.

"Try and scream ah, and I'll cut your throat, bitch." A familiar voice. He can't be more than 18, with his bleached hair and tight shirt. And a bulge in his pants. The boy from the hawker center. And his friends. I nod. Beginning to tear a bit. Scared. Scared. Scared. But I want what's coming next. I want it but I'm scared. So I plead. "No...please. No..."

"Damn slut. Wah lau, we saw you naked on the corridor ah. Fuck lah fucking slut. Fuck. You dare tell me to lick your ass you bitch. Tonight you lick mine. Damn slut. Fucking slut." The boy says, knowing his power over me and his friends holding me down. Six of them in all. Four hold my arms and legs and my tube is now bunched around my waist. My thong ripped off, so my tits and pussy are exposed. I'm held, bent forward at my waist by two of the boys. I can't move. I see the other four take off their pants. Take off their underwear, showing me their dicks. Not big but I'm frightened because I don't want to die and I'm horny because I want to get fucked. The leader turns his ass to me and I'm forced to lick it, a couple of times. Smells like shit, but not too bad. Tolerable. The boys are laughing, merry with excitement.

Soon their cocks are plunging into my pussy and mouth. They don't try my ass, and I'm thankful because I've never done it there before. They take turns, 4 holding me onto the floor and 2 fucking me, one in my mouth, and the other in my pussy. They aren't virgins, they know what they're doing. They actually succeed in bringing me to climax. So scared. So scared. Please let them not kill me when they're done with me. I don't want to die. And yet, I cum. And cum again. They shoot their loads as many times as they can, in my mouth and pussy and over my body when they miss. I keep whispering "No...no more, please. No..." But I know differently. They know it too. I'm covered with cum, my pussy leaking cum and it coats my mouth and tits. They enjoyed straddling my waist and fucking the space between my tits, kneading them together and trapping their guy flesh in between them. Oh god. I've become such a slut. How? Why? What's happening to me?

I'm in a haze, dazed from the fucking. But when camera flashes go off, and more laughing, and I get scared. My picture's been taken. Now they're going to kill me. But they don't. They just take pictures of me naked and cum-coated, and then warn me to never tell the police. Then they leave like they came, with the camera and pictures. Leaving me on the floor, dropping off to sleep. Oh god. What a slut I've become. This mustn't happen again. It mustn't. It won't...

It probably will.