The Wicked Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

But I was still embarrassed and when a friendly associate accosted me, I tried to shrink into myself, to disappear. No such luck.

“Hi, I’m Marie,” she chirped. “Anything I can help you find?”

“Um … um … what is that?” I said, gesturing vaguely to my right. I was too embarrassed to even pick up any of toys, my shyness overwhelming. But the clerk was really nice, a clean-cut blonde about my age with glasses and a friendly smile.

“Oh that!” she said merrily. “That’s a pocket rocket, perfect for a woman’s pleasure. You put this part on you,” she said, picking up the toy, “and then flick this little switch, and ta-da! Feels like heaven!”

I flushed again but was intrigued. Reaching out a tentative hand, I took the rocket from her and closed my palm around it, feeling its weight, its heft, the soft, sculpted rubber.

“And see, you can turn up the speed,” added Marie helpfully as her finger twitched on the controls. And just like that the pocket rocket went from a gentle hum to throbbing vibrations. Holy cow! That would feel amazing against my pussy and with a flaming red face, I mumbled, “I’ll take it.”

“Sure!” chirped Marie cheerfully. “Anything else? Let me ring this up for you.”

And just like that, it was done. Marie packed up my purchase in a brown paper bag, logo-less, totally discreet, and I hid it in my book bag, eager to get home and try it out.

And it was pure heaven. I loved it, coming on my own over and over again, moaning, squealing and gasping as I played with the controls, rubbing my clit with the little vibrator. But that experience lit a fire in me, opened up a yawning chasm and I found myself back at the Pink Cherry again and again, becoming friendly with Marie.

“How about this one?” the sales associate asked, holding up a glass shaft. Oh my god, it was so big, so commanding, and I’d never be able to use it, I was a virgin still and too scared to pop my own cherry. But I nodded wordlessly and the glass rod joined my growing collection, ten and then twenty sex toys, at my disposal for lonely nights at home.

It’s just that I’m rarely at home now. I work so much and then go to school, only dropping into bed at eleven p.m., dead tired from the combination of work, school, and commute. So I’ve moved most of my toy collection from home to work. Sitting alone in the basement of Luxor Corp. with nothing to do and no one around, I figure I’m not hurting anyone and no one will ever know. It’s my wicked little secret and the toys have provided me with some much-needed entertainment and relief. I use the Women’s Restroom a couple times a day now, exploring myself, playing with myself, and it’s been amazing. The hours go so much faster and I’m able to concentrate on my chemistry homework after it’s done, the orgasms clearing my mind, my body relaxed and sated.

And now, after Barry’s disgusting interlude in the bus, I found myself curiously horny. Oh no, it wasn’t the thought of Barry, no way. It was the thought of sex with a handsome man, his hands touching me, stroking my folds, making me wet, and letting me touch him in return. And oh god … but I was hungry.



It’s another day at Luxor Corp. Or, to be more precise, another busy, jam-packed day managing my real estate empire. I’m a mogul on par with none other in New York City, at the helm of a company that has controlling stakes in the Empire State Building, Madison Square Garden, and countless office buildings all over Manhattan. Construction and development, not to mention building management, is my forte and at the grand old age of forty-five I’m literally worth billions, my portfolio is enough to make a lesser man gasp and go green with envy.

But it’s not like the money makes itself. I’m still up at 6 a.m. every morning working like a madman, whether going over spreadsheets, reviewing proposals, or touring the buildings themselves.

That’s right, even though I’ve got thousands of people working for me, there’s nothing like walking the site itself, evaluating the construction, the maintenance, making sure the crews are using the right screws, the right type of window frames, keeping everything gleaming and in tip-top shape. Because when they know the boss is going to do a random drop-in, they’re on their toes and do a better job. I’m not just an invisible figure at the top, I’m the man himself come to life, with encyclopedic knowledge of this industry and a sharp eye that can pick up the smallest details, nothing gets by me.

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