Different Love

Wish you like reading it and comments are really welcome.
(Special thanks to Arizona1664 for helping me with the english stuff =*)
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It wasn’t the way I expected it to be, but I don’t regret it. Sometimes things happen for a reason, good things and bad things. Sometimes they just have to happen, both of them, so you can discover who you really are.


Getting older is hard. At first you are obsessed with the first kiss, and then you’re obsessed with the first time. But what happens when your friends, all of them the same age as you – 16 – have already had sex and talk insistently about blowjobs, styles, orgasms and stuff? At first you think “Damn it, I’m surrounded by whores!” But soon after that you feel out of place. You have to be there, talking about experiences you had, and for that you have to be experienced. So my next step was to find a guy to initiate me. To make me like the others and, for a girl like me, that was hard to obtain.

Something in me, maybe something my parents did to me while I grew up made me a different person. My dad a Major in the army and my mother a judge… My life had been ruled and watched until I got to high School, but when I obtained freedom I was already too “damaged” to enjoy it.

I couldn’t stand boys of my own age. They looked so… Stupid… But it didn’t stop me. I knew what I wanted.

Soon, just as we entered vacations, I dated a boy named Paul. He was a tall, slim guy, with brown hair and had the most serious look I could find.

He seemed really surprised with the clear chance he had with me, as if he wasn’t expecting a chance like that to fall into his lap that way. Everybody used to tell me I was pretty, everybody. Short (5’2″ 1/2), moody and a true brainiac, but pretty. What always made them think that I was supposed to be the first to share a bed with someone, thanks to the number of guys who already asked me out. But it wasn’t that way.

I was… weird. I couldn’t even masturbate properly. The description my friends gave of an orgasm simply didn’t match with anything I’d ever experienced.

One day I came to a friend crying, asking her if I was frigid. She said I wasn’t frigid, I was just stupid. That’s why I love my friends you know…

Anyway, we’d been together for a while, a week I guess, and I never hid where I wanted our relationship to go. Kissing and groping were more than common, and I let him do whatever he wanted, but it didn’t help. He was too respectful and I was too polite. He always kept saying sweet things, caressing, taking care of me. And eventually I started to feel bored. Even the good feeling I had while he was touching me was disappearing. All my friends were asking how was it to have sex with Paul, he was one of the most handsome guys in our class after all, and I lied, saying that we were waiting for a special moment. I couldn’t let them know that he didn’t even turn me on.

That’s when it happened. Paul had got his house to himself at the weekend and asked me to sleep with him. A big part of me, the one who accepted, wanted to go on with that and carry on. But the other part was yelling at me “Good girl! Let this bozo pop your cherry!”

And that was the predominant part when I ran away from him, leaving him half naked in that bed.

It was the weirdest moment of my life, running from a guy that, I knew, was the best option for me, like he was some kind of monster. He would never forgive me and I’d probably never forgive myself. It happened that I took my car and I drove away through the night with no destination in mind.


More than two hours after hitting the highway I had the best (worst) idea of the night. In my head I wanted desperately to do something stupid, something that could make me think more of what I was doing than what I just did. And there was a bar next to the road so I decided to make a stop, use some charm to get a beer even being underage, and drive…drinking and listening to some melodramatic music to fit my mood, just like I saw in some movies. Stupid.

But just the walk to the bar brought me a bad feeling. It was in the middle of nowhere and had a bunch of weird cars and motorcycles parked near, but “what the hell!” I thought… I said that I was stupid?

A sour smell mixed with tobacco filled my nostrils as I opened the door. The place was filled with the strangest mix of people I had ever seen. Several of them looked at me, men and women, and I automatically felt intimidated, but I gathered courage and breath and moved on, hearing the sound of a big discussion going on while crossing to the bartender, as if two gangs were starting a fight right there.

But no one seemed to care. So I wouldn’t too. The man behind the counter was a paunchy guy with a moustache, completely tattooed, who stood right in front of me soon as the guys at the bar moved to let me through.

“Hey… Uh… I want two beers please.” I said trying to sound more confident I could.

It wasn’t working. He just grinned at me, put his elbows at the counter and spoke playfully.

“Sure, Miss. Don’t you want some cigarettes too?” The guys surrounding us laughed loudly, making people near pay even more attention to me. They all leaned toward me, as if trying to sense my smell, to get closer, to see through my clothes. What was I thinking when I decided to enter this place? I was dressed the best I could! I thought I was getting my first time today! Perfume, make up, clothing, hair… Everything at their most, and I’m in the middle of a rape zone… Stupid, stupid, stupid!

I just turned around and headed to the exit. It looked like everyone was looking maliciously at me, like they were hunting dogs and I was a baby’s rubber duck about to be bitten to pieces. So just after I got through the door I heard someone following me. Three guys were chasing me to my car. I started to run, but four more guys appeared from nowhere, like they were waiting for me near the car. The others followed me very fast and surrounded me. They seemed like marginal who just left jail, licking their lips and whistling at me.

“Look at this blondie! Isn’t she a nice and sweet little cunt?” I felt my whole body shiver. They weren’t letting me go.

But the Bar’s door opened again and three guys came out, wearing spiked leather jackets and jeans, no less frightening at all.

“Hey, Dick! Our business isn’t over.” Said the fat one, with a long brown beard, unfastening the thick chain he used like a belt, twirling it in the air and slamming it in the face of the bald punk who was talking to me.

The guy fell holding his face and screaming like an animal, I leaned down with hands on my head while they rushed against each other.