Diary of the 15yr-old school slut: 1

Look, I’m Katie. I’m writing this because I have to tell someone who won’t judge. Or even if you do I won’t know about it. Like thousands of others I’m a nymphomaniac but probably where I differ from the standard nympho is that I’m 15 years old. Another difference is I don’t care really, I like being a slut, and I LOVE sex.

The feelings I get when I’m fucking, I don’t know if everyone gets them like I do, but it’s the best rush I’ve ever felt. I’m still in school, I’m in my 10th year. I suppose I should help you picture me better so here goes;
I’m 5”6, I spend every Monday night performing with a dance troupe so I stay slim, I have blonde straight hair that’s fairly long and deep green eyes. Although I’m a little slutty I don’t dress like one and if I wasn’t in my (ordinary, not pornstar) school uniform I’d probably be in tight jeans and a cleavage showing shirt. I developed early, and to my credit I’m packing a pair of 32Ds that I get from my mom, but there’s no way she can pull it off as well as I can.

I don’t have a boyfriend, they’re too regular. I have a big group of friends though, with plenty of boys in it. Sometimes the urge, or rather the itch will just strike me in the middle of a lesson and I’ll have no choice but to sneak a finger into my panties and rub my clit whilst trying to concentrate on Mr. Daplin’s double maths, which is hard enough, ‘cause he’s pretty hot. Sometimes that’s not even enough, sometimes I have to fuck. I lost my virginity 2 years ago to a boy I knew through friends at a drunken party. I knew I loved masturbating before then, loved the feeling of my fingers brushing over my clit and something in my pussy; fingers, one of my mom’s dildos and even cock-shaped vegetables. Nothing can compare to the feeling of someone inside me though, so when I get the urge in the middle of class, or in the break, or at lunch. I long for sex, wherever it might be.

It was on one such day that I first had sex at school. It was 3rd period and I was stuck in English bored. I was trying to focus on the nuance in onomatopoeia between hamlet and midsummer nights dream when I felt an itch in my panties. The kind of itch of desire that demands to be scratched. I resisted for a while, but it was pulling my mind out of focus so I subtly looked around to see if no one was watching and eased my hand into my panties. I was wearing a red thong that day, more like anal floss than underwear, but it was all that I had that wasn’t dirty and man did it make me feel sexy.