Dirty Girlfriend - Did you ever have one?

[brummy_boy]

Originally Posted by brianwp

I hear ya, believe me. Besides my wife, some of the best tail I've ever got was from the church. Thank you, Lord!

I have just found this thread and am enjoying it and have plenty to add which I will do later, but your comments about the church are interesting.

My wife of 25 years (2nd wife) is very religious and is a very sexy woman - more later. However, she told me that when she was very young she became involved through a relation with the Cristadelfian Church. She was a virgin at the time but not for long. Apparently she learned everything she knew at their weekly meetings and was passed around several couples over 5 or 6 years.

Since then she has associated everything sexual with the Church and has never thought anything wrong in it.

[gunner]

Only one and at first I thought I was the luckiest man alive, however, if she felt randy, she would probably have fucked a dog in the street. If we were in the car she would often just start wanking, not to turn me on, just for the orgasm. At first I thought it exciting, but after a while she would probably have to come every couple of hours or so. She could make herself come in less than a minute. It ended up that I couldnt trust her when I wasnt with her, not a good basis for a relationship.

[Alvin Lucifer]

Part I. The most memorable one I had went from fun to scary to tragic. Her first name was rather uncommon, and I know people are googling and talking about the mystery of her demise, so I'll just call her Linda. When I met her, she was a 19-year-old college sophomore. I was 21 and had only been with a couple of women before her. Linda looked like a prim Italian librarian, a conservative dresser with raven black ringlets and a Mona Lisa smile. Her body wasn't bad, but she was on the skinny side, she was a recovering anorexic Mostly she was terribly shy. Our first go-around lasted about eight months. We never consummated the relationship. We just fooled around and I turned her on to mutual masturbation and mutual oral. She had tits like a pubescent maiden with rock hard ruby nipples. She had slender little shapely legs the color of alabastar and a heart-shaped ass. She had the prettiest bush you ever saw with a throbbing pink pussy aching for more, yet when we tried to fuck, my attempts at penetration made her weepy and nervous. I didn't get mad. I just held her and rocked her to sleep.

I was like a helpless puppy back then. I lived in a run-down apartment in Boston and worked at a healthfood store. I was still in the early ages of my lifelong battle with clinical depression/anxiety disorder. Left to my own devices, I would lie in bed listening to Beethoven and Mahler and think about suicide. Linda would come over and bring me some fresh bread and pasta or something. We'd watch some videos and have some laughs it cheered me up. Usually we'd end up on the heavy petting/mutual masturbation train. It wasn't optimal but it was better than nothing. It was nice to have a warm body to cling to as the weather got frigid.

The 1990 recession was on. I lost my crummy job and my crummy apartment. I was fed up. I moved back home 100 miles north in New Hampshire. Linda said she'd come visit me. I was so despondant, I just broke the whole thing off. She wept and pounded on my chest. She got over it. I knew she'd find another boyfriend. My psychiatric state was on the wane. I was in no shape for any relationship.

Part II. A year later, I went back to school. I knew Linda was at UNH, but I figured it was a big enough campus, and we could avoid each other. I kept seeing her at the library. We got together for coffee in town. We walked back to campus and necked in the woods. One thing led to another, and we wound up at her apartment the next week. We tore each other's clothes off and fucked like dogs. She didn't just have a boyfriend in the interim, she must have had a sex guru. Not so. It was all psychological change. Yeah, he popped her cherry, but she said she wished I had been the one, besides he couldn't satisfy her and he didn't really like sex. Well, we changed all that.

The one thing that pissed me off was that she said she hd broken off with this computer science dork when she was still with the poor guy. I told her she had to choose one or the other. John's heart was broken, but now he's a millionaire, and I'm a poor slob perpetually behind in his rent, c'est la vie!

Linda and I were horny kids. We'd fuck every chance we got. We'd fuck in marathons. We'd fuck until we couldn't walk straight and then we'd fuck some more. I taught her how to swallow jizz; she taught me not to be shy about doggie. Every week she had some new Victoria Secret slinky thing to tease me with.

The relationship was rocky. Outside of sex, she was the same mousey French major I knew a year before. I knew she was suffering from depression, and something else she wasn't telling me. I started to believe she was the victim of childhood sexual abuse which was buried under the Big Catholic Guilt. I still believe that was the case. I myself was prone to panic attacks, decompensation, social paranoia, and tantrums, though never directed at her.

Part III. She graduated. Grad school at Boston College. I transferred to Salem, where I could go full-time. Her studio apartment in Brookline became our love nest. She was becoming more kinky and aggressive. We just loved rocking and riding and sucking and fucking any we we could figure out how. She wouldn't let me leave even if I had an exam the next morning. She would strip down to her lingirie and flop back on the bed. I dropped my bags and it started all over again.

Then it got scary. She confided in me that she wanted to be a porn star. That did not turn me on. It scared the hell out of me because she was serious. We were watching a video and she said, "I could do that, I know I coud do that! Those girls make good money, and I wouldn't have to teach undergrads anymore, I could just study and get my Master's" Well, Boston wasn't a porn town, but there were other things she could do in a related biz. I got real nervous. She was looking all manic like somebody hooked on coke. I know she wasn't doing drugs, though. I did not understand her symptoms of hypersexuality were a sign of bipolar disorder, and she needed to seek help. I don't think she would have even if I told her to.

At the same time, I had met a high school heart throb of mine at a tiki lounge back in my hometown. There was a spark between Janine and me, and I was scared of Linda. I decided it was time to move on. Linda's heart was broken and she was then unmoored and feeling all alone in her studio apartment and broke on her teaching assistant stipend. She could kill two birds with one stone. She would take out an ad in the Boston Phoenix "seeking erotic encounters with generous gents." That's what she did. She became a call-girl, a prostitute, but I did not know that until later.

I was unhappy in my new relationship. It turned out Janine was a bitchy bisexual who lived with her man-hating mother when she wasn't off at UMass. I couldn't stand her friends. They were like the cast of a John Waters movie. Mostly I sat around reading Orwell while they cackled it up.

Part IV. One night about six weeks later in my Salem dorm, I got a call from Linda. She was telling me in a nervous giggle about her new life, all in fits and starts. Then she broke down and wept that she was being stalked by a john who raped her "savagely at knife point the week before" and she was scared for her life. She didn't want to call the cops because she was breaking the law. I told her to sit tight and I would call her back. I stumbled to the bathroom and threw up like it was Christmas. My head was spinning. I called her parents' home in New Hampshire and just blurted out to her mother, who had never met me, that Linda was selling her body for sex and now she was in serious danger and they better get their daughter out of Boston. Then I decided I was going to extract Linda myself. I called Linda and told her to stay put and I'd be there in 45 minutes. I hightailed into the city and rang her buzzer. No answer. I called her. No answer. In a panic, I called the cops. I told them I didn't know what we'd find we went in there, but that Linda had serious psychiatric problems and begged them to take her to the hospital.
"Oh, she's workin' outta the apartment, eh?" said the officer in that cop finesse they all have.

She opened the door wearing her wool bathrobe and looking like that little Catholic waif I'd always known. She fell into my arms and sobbed, "Thank you so much! I didn't answer b-b-because I was afraid it was HIM!" All I felt was humiliation and disgust. She was playing a game. I didn't think she was lying about the prostitution and rape, but my gut told me she was going to manipulate me.

I spent the all night waiting in Brigham and Women's hospital. She would appear between tests and interviews and say they were letting her go back to work, and she had a client that night. She seemed to take a perverse pleasure in my shock. She knew I wasn't going to let her go back; fuck what the hospital said. Those nurses were bitches anyway, kept telling me to sit down and be quiet.

Reports indeed confirmed vaginal and rectal trauma. I just didn't want to know anymore. I felt like it was all my fault. If only I had seen she was in trouble. If only I hadn't dumped her for that bitch Janine, if only...oh what the fuck!

No sleep all night. I brought her back to her apartment in the morning and told her to pack her belongs. She was going back to her parents in Barnstead. I told her I was going to follow her in my car, and she better not try anything funny. Neither one of us had slept and we were in no shape to drive, but we did anyway.

She and I and her parents had a long talk. She would get an AIDS test and so would I. I had no idea if she had been telling me the truth. Her parents hugged me and sobbed. I had rescued their sweet little girl, their "first-born."
"We are forever in your debt," they declared.
I wanted to tell them it was going to get worse before it got better, if it ever did. I also felt like telling her father he knew it was his fault and he had to live with it. I know he diddled her. I just nodded and and said "I wish we could have met under happier circumstances. Now, I must go. I am exhausted. Please don't let her out of your sight until she's stable." I drove 60 miles north to my father's house. Went up to my old bedroom and slept for 36 hours. I told my folks I was having a hard week and needed some time.

I went back to school, but I couldn't study. I had no interest in going to classes. Images of terrible things happening to my beloved Linda kept racing through my head. I puked up everything I tried to eat. I was sick and pale. I was a roaring stud with Linda, but I could barely fuck Janine and I was sick of her attitude. That relationship withered and died. My GPA went from 3.8 to 2.0.

I called Linda to see how she was doing but she'd just tell me stories of working as a translator for this ugly old wine dealer and fucking him in Quebec hotels because he paid her great money and bought her Godiva chocolates and fancy jewelery. I wrote letters telling her and her parents I would have absolutely no more contact with Linda and why.

I tested negative for the HIV virus. So did she.

Yeah, Linda was a dirty slut, but she was more than that, she was whip-smart, witty, sweet, and we loved each other to pieces -- when we were well. It was a Poe-like tragedy the way our mental health problems destroyed a love that would otherwise led to marriage and family. Twenty years later, I miss the great sex, sure, but I miss the only girl with whom I had that true love. This little narrative doesn't do it justice.

Part V. It got worse. A decade passed. I decided it was now safe to search for Linda again. Sure, I thought, she was likely married and had kids. I didn't really want to rekindle anything. Well, sort of, yeah, if I could have, I think so! Anyway, Internet sleuth work traced her to New York City. Then to Thousand Oaks, California. Then to Seattle. A few different names. A few different men. I found an email address for Linda....but then the bomb dropped. Her obituary appeared in her alma mater's online newsletter.

Linda committed suicide in March. I started my search in May. I was too late. Apparently, she was on the ferry returning from her boyfriend's in Victoria, BC, back to her home in Seattle, where she was working as some kind of computer programmer. Video showed her boarding the boat, but not disembarking. Her belongings were found by the crew, but no trace of Linda. Her last boyfriend emailed me and told me Linda had indeed been suffering from a bad bout of bipolar depression and her behavior was erratic. The staff on the ferry had caught her dangling above the water from a rail near the front of the boat. They ordered her to return to her seat and not to move for the remainder of the trip. She did take her seat, but then she disappeared and has never been seen again. Linda was 33 years old.

I tell the tail because sometimes a "dirty slut girlfirend" is acting out of an uncontrollable psychiatric illness and her sluttiness is a symptom of great distress. I hope nothing like this happens to any of you.

[tabler]

Originally Posted by gunner

Only one and at first I thought I was the luckiest man alive, however, if she felt randy, she would probably have fucked a dog in the street. If we were in the car she would often just start wanking, not to turn me on, just for the orgasm. At first I thought it exciting, but after a while she would probably have to come every couple of hours or so. She could make herself come in less than a minute. It ended up that I couldnt trust her when I wasnt with her, not a good basis for a relationship.

Shit man thats terrible.....whats her phone number?

[brummy_boy]

I was lucky enough to meet a complete slut and lived with her for three years between marriages. I met Kelly on a trip to Spain to play golf with three friends. I was in the process of breaking up with my first wife after seven years and she was on the brink of breaking up with her husband. She was an airline stewardess and he was a Captain. We met on the bus taking us from the airport to the Hotel. She was with three other girls and I was three guys. We all got chatting and took them out to Dinner on the first night. I teamed up with Kelly straight away. She was a very horny looking girl and was very flirtatious. We met them in the hotel lobby and Kelly was wearing a skirt with a slit right up the side and it was obvious she wasn’t wearing panties. I thought my luck was in and I wasn’t wrong.
I had certainly had no shortage of sex up to that point. I had my first experience when I was twelve with a Swiss girl who was a family friend who came to stay with us to learn English and to act as an Au Pair girl. She was about 18 at the time so I had struck lucky early on. She would sneak into my room at night under the pretext of checking that I was OK and would sit on the bed and chat for a while. One night she rested her hand on the bedclothes and felt my firm c**k and, pretending to be surprised, slipped her hand under the sheets to check me out and proceeded to jerk me off. It took about 10 seconds for me to come but over the next 6 months or so it became a nightly ritual and eventually she progressed to sucking me off and I became addicted to a soft mouth around my c**k. I learned much later from my older sister that she had been looking after my Father in the same way which caused her to be sent packing back to Switzerland when my Mother caught them at it.
I suppose she qualifies as my first slut but things went a bit slower after that until I met my first wife who was quite a lot older than I was. She was divorced and loved sex and we eventually got married. I was too young to marry really and we soon started to drift apart and the last two years were a bit acrimonious and sex was well down the agenda so when I met Kelly I was more than ready for some action.
Anyway, back to Kelly. We all sat around a big round table in the restaurant on that first night and we had not been seated for more than a few minutes when I felt her hand on my leg. She left it there while we ordered and slowly stroked up and down my thigh and didn’t take long to brush against my c**k and balls, talking and chatting all the time as if nothing was happening. After a while I slipped my hand over to her legs and was immediately met with a parting of her knees and easy access to her bare c**t which was soaking wet. My interest was suddenly no longer on the meal ahead and we soon made an excuse about being tired after the journey and slipped back to the hotel in a taxi. As soon as we were in the back of the taxi she had my c**k out and was stroking it gently with me worried about the driver looking round and kicking us out.
We rushed up to my room and as soon as we were through the door she was on her knees sucking my cock like there was no tomorrow. I soon learned that this was her absolute passion in life and she was an unashamed expert. Just the thought or mention of a hard cock would cause her c**t to stream juices and she could cum from sucking one without even being touched. I had always enjoyed having my c**k sucked even more than actually fucking and the sight of a girl doing it was as good as the actual feeling. That first time she spent most of the night between my legs leaving nothing unattended too. She would lick and suck my b***s and ass***e while she gently stroked my c**k and would keep me on the edge of cumming for ever. She was an absolute expert and it was obvious she had a lot of experience. However, I wasn’t complaining and we spent most of the week in my room. I would wake up in the morning dreaming of getting a bj to find her already down there sucking on it. My friends had also struck lucky with Kelly’s friends and we never did get much golf played.
When we got back to the UK we both went back to our spouses but within a few weeks we had set up home together. It was none stop sex and she got to know exactly what I liked and had no qualms in satisfying my every whim. She was already a stocking wearer, probably because she knew the effect it had on guys, and she always wore them to work. She would have stop overs from time to time and made no secret of her adventures when away from home. She was particularly attracted to one of my friends who used to come around the house for threesomes and often twosomes when I wasn’t there. We would often go out to pubs and restaurants or the cinema with her wearing just stockings and lingerie under her coat and have her expose herself to guys. She would be up for anything sexual and I really indulged my fantasies with her for those three years together. We would have couples parties at home just to give her the opportunity of some fresh c**k. There were no Bukkake parties in the UK in those days but she would have been up for it if there was. We used to go to Paris about once a month to visit the ‘Swingers’ Clubs there and on many occasions she would have ten or twenty guys in one evening, always on her knees surrounded by stiff c***s. One night we were invited to a private party in Paris where the French Rugby Team were invited together with six other couples. Kelly managed to take on the whole Team and still wanted more when we got back to our hotel.
She was the best c**k sucker I ever met. She could take it all the way down and used to look you in the eye when you came in her mouth and then open her mouth to show you the cum before she swallowed it. She was never in a hurry and used to spend for ever teasing it and could keep you hard for hours. She used to enjoy sharing it with another girl and it would become a bit of a competition with her showing just how much better she was.
She was always down on my cock when we were driving, even in the daylight and I was always worried that we would be seen and reported. She did it in the cinema, in restaurants under the table if there was a long table cloth and even on the train.
Eventually I met my present wife Sally at an airline staff party where I had gone with Kelly. She was much younger than Kelly and me and I hit it off with her straight away. She was great sexually but not a slut in the same way that Kelly was. She is a one man guy and indulges all my pleasures and wishes and loves to suck c**k too but enjoys many other forms of sex too. I split up from Kelly and moved in with Sally and we have been together now for over twenty five years. She knew all about Kelly’s sexual urges and told me some great stories about Kelly on long haul flights and stop overs and how popular she was with the crews. She was known by the Captains as the ‘Hoover’ for not wasting a drop and cleaning up afterwards. She is still working for the airline.

[VallesMarineris]

Originally Posted by gunner

Only one and at first I thought I was the luckiest man alive, however, if she felt randy, she would probably have fucked a dog in the street. If we were in the car she would often just start wanking, not to turn me on, just for the orgasm. At first I thought it exciting, but after a while she would probably have to come every couple of hours or so. She could make herself come in less than a minute. It ended up that I couldnt trust her when I wasnt with her, not a good basis for a relationship.

i had a handful of these types of girls over many years. after one relationship or nightmare would end, i would always find another lunatic. after a while i just figured hey, they're all the same. it became normal to me. i would always think 'if i brought a donkey into the room...'
i was convinced that any of these girls would have done him. but i had alot of fun with whichever one i would date or try to have a relationship with.
(it was never stable as i wished, and sometimes aware there were a few other guys these girls were seeing). and if you stick around them too long, obviously it gets tougher to leave and you will find out too much dirt. in some cases i did.

one was even working the door at a gentleman's club. 'i only work the door, carding people and nothing else' or so she said. i thought yeah right, like she is not doing a few guys here and there, or even more, for cash.
then one even died like in alvinlucifer's post. a year or two after i lost contact with her. shame how it happens, but some great memories and some horrible memories with some real pretty girls/crazy girls that i wouldn't trade for anything.
this was the norm for the NJ/NYC rock club scene 80s-90s as far as i could see. then again, i couldn't see that far.

[Sharkhunter]

I can't say "dirty slut" would be an accurate description of my now ex, but let's say she was up for it a lot of the time. She'd often turn up at my place after work in her short office skirt and no knickers, and then have me pin her up against the wall and have my wicked way with her with her clothes still on. She'd then suck me back to hardness and gulp the whole lot down.

The downside was that when she was not chomping on my cock she was a certifiably insane moneypit.

[Extempus]

My last gf was a dominatrix with 38K tits (no, I am not submissive, and yes, they were 100% real). What was amusing is that she complained about her back hurting (her bra really was an over the shoulder boulder holder) and said that it didn't the days she didn't wear a bra, so I told her, don't wear one then. She actually told me she didn't want people thinking she was a slut! She wasn't really slutty, but I find it amusing that, as a domme, she was actually concerned about that... she took me to the Power Exchange in SF once, I guess that was about as slutty as she got.

[martin1964]

Originally Posted by grudie

and we are still together 20 years later ...........she still f**ks other people and i watch ......... we go to swingers clubs and a great time is had by all :-)

its not every ones cup of tea but it works for us !!!

dont know how to add a pic on here ??

Look in the Help & Guides Section

[whiskymick]

I've been lucky enough to have a few in the past, now i'm 51 and single again i'm looking for some more..........please : )