Thanks for all the brilliant feedback!
But I feel like I need to clarify something, I think I should mention (because there has been some confusion) that the first part was all in Spencer's pov, it was just slipping between streams of consciousness, as in she was having sex with a random girl and thinking about it, but her mind was also recounting and recapping on her life a little. I thought it would be interesting (and ambiguous), because you can see the similarities between Spencer and Ashley.
Hmm.

Sorry for any confusion.


Oh fuck this feels good. She's inside of me and I love the feeling. It's hardly new – I'm not a virgin, I know the feeling well – but these days I give more than I receive. And I haven't received in a while.

I have at least two one nightstands a week – and most of them time they're literally "stands". And sure they're gratifying, in one-way or another. The last couple of orgasm's I've had, have been self-inflicted, which is fine – because an orgasm is still an orgasm. However there is something about someone else moving inside of you, pushing you to your climax that is just so much better than flying solo. Plus this girl is so sexy, it's painful.

Sexy, but virginal. I'm never too sure whether I love or hate virgins. On one hand there is something so thrilling about being someone's first – whether you're being as gentle and caring as possible, trying to make their first time a beautiful memory, or whether you're violently ripping away their innocence – you'll permanently be marked in their mind as their first. Virgin's are so nervous and eager to please, you can get them to do almost anything and they'll comply, because usually they don't know any better. But on the flip side, virgins are nervous and bumbling creatures, their movements are awkward and clumsy – never too sure of what to do. They move slowly and cautiously, annoyingly so, they need you to show them what to do, they need to be taught. If you're looking for a quick fuck, virgin's arnt usually the way to go.

I picked her up in a gay bar; she was nursing a root beer looking like a deer caught in headlights. She looked so innocent and lost – such a fucking turn on. I knew it would only be a matter of time before someone else tried to pick her up – she is fucking hot after all – so I made my move, strolling up to her and starting a conversation, constantly finding reasons to touch her.

I hate pretending. I hate being charming. Laying on all the bullshit, just so I can fuck whoever in a toilet cubical or the back of a cab, or occasionally in her bed. I know I'm just spouting crap, most of the time the girls must know too. But yet I still do it, I need to. Charm 'em, fuck 'em and leave 'em. Every time. I usually end up using the same lines – like an actress going out and performing the same play every night. The same empty words spilling over my lips. I don't tire of it though. Not one bit.

So there I was in a generic gay bar, chatting up a generic baby dyke, using generic pick-up-lines. She asked me back to hers – usually I don't go home with them – but long ago I came to the conclusion that no one really wants their first time to be in a toilet stall (whether they want a "memorable" first time or not). I know I didn't want mine to be, granted a barn isn't much better. So I agreed to go back to hers. I wanted to fuck the innocence out of her.

In the taxi on the way to her place she was nervously giggling in my ear as I continued to "charm" her. Even though I didn't need to be charming anymore, we were going to fuck and that was that.

We arrived in front of a medium sized house and proceeded to make our way towards the front door. My mind was going into overdrive trying to figure the girl out – I guessed that she still lived with her parents. She must have still been in school. Excitedly she dragged me up to her room and shut the door heavily behind us. Her room was that of a typical high school student – pictures of friends, posters, the odd trophy and schoolbooks (both exercise and text) piled up on a desk.

I asked her how old she was, and she started to shift uncomfortably as she stared at her shoes, a muttered "seventeen" reached my ears. I looked her up and down and unconsciously started to compare myself to her. We were about the same height, I was her age when I had my proverbial cherry popped, well my lesbian cherry, and from what I could gather earlier on she was nervous about coming out, although she was certain about her sexuality. I guess a lot of people have that in common especially at her age. I internally shook my head; I didn't need to be thinking. I needed to be fucking.

I sat down on her bed and patted the space next to me. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before sitting down on the spot I had been tapping. I gave her an encouraging smile as once more that night I kissed her. She tasted like vanilla and root beer. She wanted to go slow – that was obvious from her kiss. Unfortunately for her, I didn't.

It didn't take long for me to get her naked and soon our clothes were on the floor and her fingers were deep inside of me, pushing me higher and higher.

I'm on my back in her bed; she's between my legs, her fingers thrusting in and out of me. She knows what she's doing surprisingly well; for a virgin. And fuck it feels good to have her moving in me. I think she shaking from nervousness, I don't care though. I urge her on, faster and deeper. My hands find her back as her fingers find my g-spot. Shit. I'm close. My hands are clawing at her back. I'm almost there, just a little further and… fuck! My nails dig into her back and rip through the tanned flesh.

I stop twitching and I want to leave. Usually I would. But I don't. I lean up and I can see her back in the mirror mounted above her dressing table – it's bleeding. Soft lines of crimson blood are streaked near her shoulder blades. I kiss her on the lips, softly. I'd usually be out of the house by now. I wonder where her parents are.

I flip us over – I'm on top, people need to learn that. My fingers find the warmth radiating from between her legs. And just like she was in me earlier, I am her.

I wanted to fuck the innocence out of her. And I did. I didn't stop. She kept cumming, over and over. I didn't stop. She was begging me to relent. I didn't. I fucked her hard and fast. I fucked her cruelly. Her first time should have been gentle and loving, it wasn't. It was cold and brutal. She cried. I still didn't stop. I don't know how many times I brought her to a climax that night. The last time I head it; her voice was raw and hoarse. I did finally stop though, at some point she blacked out – her body completely spent and exhausted, and I stopped; my own body sore.

Her beautiful face was stained with tears. Her neck had a few new bite marks and her back – which I couldn't see – had a few cuts and consequently dried blood on it. I withdrew myself from her limp body and went about putting my clothes back on.

Virgin's are fun. But she wasn't a virgin anymore.