I'm pleased to introduce the second installment of "The Story of Jo,"
Jo Kendra's exciting debut novel and first endeavor in erotic fiction.

Taking the genesis of "The Story of O," as a starting point, Jo describes her erotic coming of age in a collection of email confessions meant to seduce her lover, ZB.

 

if you missed the first intsallment click here

Lisa Ludovici,
Fiction & Poetry Editor

Dearest ZB,

I'm so glad you liked my last email. I guess I know what you're doing. I'd like to be able to see you right now. Sitting there alone with your laptop in your darkened office. I imagine you getting hard while you read my writing, stroking yourself slowly, teasing your engorged cock, trying to hold back until you can't stand it any longer, stifling your sounds so your wife doesn't hear. Faster now. Faster. Finally bringing yourself to climax with a tortured release. Oh, I wish I could see you!

All right. I'm going to tell you everything. Everything there is to tell. Why? For years now no one has been able to turn me on, or come even close to matching my passion. You're different. You truly understand me sexually. You're the kind of man who can turn me on in my body and my head. That's the wonderful thing about the cyber world. Welcome to the 21st century!

My Deflowering As I mentioned before I had loved the feeling of Gray climaxing. It was such a powerful, vigorous explosion compared to my own little feverish releases. When his penis began to throb in my mouth and then pump furiously I became so wet I thought I'd go insane. Sometimes he would come in my mouth, sometimes on my breasts. Afterwards he'd hold my head against his sweaty chest and stroke my hair. I wondered then if I could have that powerful force inside me if I might achieve the same kind of intensity with my orgasms.

Van was a sweet musician at school who turned me on. I carefully planned "accidentally" running into him in the hallways. We discussed minor chord progressions on the guitar and Led Zepplin but he was very shy. I wanted him but I felt embarrassed about my lack of experience. I wanted to be able to please him.

I had a friend in Drama class who I'll call Rob. (I can't tell you his real name as he is now a famous comic actor!). Rob was cute in a tall, gangly, dorky kind of way. A total goofball but he made me laugh. We were buddies and we often cut class and smoked pot in the desert near our high school. He was not a virgin and bragged a lot about it. I was desperate to get experience for Van so I asked Rob if he would do me the favor of deflowering me. He said he'd happily oblige and his parents just happened to be going out of town that very weekend.

On Saturday night we drank a lot of beer and smoked several joints. We watched Saturday Night Live and laughed nervously. Finally, we went into his bedroom. I took off all my clothes and lay back on the bed, ready for the big moment. Rob took off his pants. My jaw dropped. He had an ENORMOUS penis. I had not seen a lot of penises at that age. In fact, before that night I didn't know there were different sizes. But gazing at Rob I knew that this must be the jumbo version. It was huge. "You're going to put that inside me?" I asked in disbelief.

"That's the idea," he grinned.

"Will it fit?" I asked.

Rob nodded knowledgeably. "Your vagina expands," he explained.

"Not that much," I told him.

But it was too late. He had that look. He was overcome with lust.

"God, you have great tits," he murmured. I noted with horror that his penis was getting even bigger. He made a leap for me.

I guess neither of us had heard of foreplay. I didn't even want to think about blowing him. I gripped the bed sheets and stared hard at the ceiling. I tried to think of something pleasant. Extreme pain enveloped my body and I gasped.

"You'll loosen up," Rob said. "Just wait."

I did loosen up a little, but not nearly enough. I don't think he ever got all the way in. He seemed stuck: half in, half out. But he pumped away like a madman. When I did sneak a look at his face he looked like someone engaged in heavy labor. God, I thought, of all the guys in the world out there I could have deflower me I had to go and pick Long Dong Silver.

"You OK?" he asked me.

"Yes," I told him. "Just come already, will you?"

He did. Loudly.

As he drove me home he told me we could practice a few more times if I wanted. I politely passed and when he let me off I slowly hobbled to my bedroom window where I gave my sister the signal to let me in. I fell asleep hurting but with the knowledge that I had gained important knowledge for my pursuit of Van.

Things went along smoothly with Van and I. We dated, held hands at the movies. I often went to watch him play classical guitar at a local Mexican restaurant. After my first disastrous experience with Rob I wasn't jumping into anything. Then one day Van told me he'd been accepted into an exclusive music school in Boston. He would be leaving in three weeks. I was devastated but decided it was now or never. He agreed. We made a plan. I went downtown to Planned Parenthood and got on the pill.

One night after he had finished at the restaurant we drove out to a secluded spot in the desert. We spread out a blanket, opened a bottle of wine and he played "Stairway to Heaven" on his guitar. (Ok I know we all got sick of it eventually but at the time it seemed romantic) We started making out.

I was wearing one of those skimpy halter tops that tied behind my neck and a short skirt. He expertly untied my top with one hand. It fell open. I wondered where such a shy guy had gained so much skill in undressing women.

"You have beautiful breasts," he whispered. He cupped them in his hands, then he began to lick each nipple, slowly, sensuously, with the tip of his tongue. I felt faint. I got wet instantly. He smothered my breasts with kisses then started taking turns sucking each one in this sort of animalistic way, like he was trying to devour me whole. I went insane.

We wrapped ourselves around each other, began to madly kiss. Before I knew it my skirt was off, my panties were down and his finger had disappeared into the wetness of my vagina. Nobody had ever put a finger inside me. I gasped. It felt so good. He started moving inside me, deeper and deeper. I didn't want him to stop but he did. He seemed to be getting ready for something else. He unzipped his pants. I was still a little scared.

"Let me suck you first," I said. He took it out. I went down on him immediately, taking him all the way into my mouth several times. I went back to the head, grazed the opening with my tongue for a moment then I tightened my lips around his cock just beneath the head and moved my lips very quickly up and down, up and down, sucking him hard has I held his balls in my hand, cupped them, stroked them downwards. He groaned with pleasure. He repeated my name a few times, then he stopped me.

He pushed me down on my back, slowly guided his penis inside me. It felt so good. It went all the way in. I was amazed. It fit!

"Are you ok?" he asked. I nodded. Then he started thrusting. That thrusting! Oh, God. At first it was slow. I thought it was the most wonderful sensation I had ever experienced. Deep powerful thrusts. And I wanted them deeper and harder every time. Then they got faster. Then they got positively rhythmical. Van was building momentum. Building. Building. Suddenly he pushed my legs up over his shoulders. Wow! What was this? He thrust into me harder.

"You still ok?" he asked.

I nodded. I couldn't speak. He went faster and faster and I loved it. I loved it. I held on tight. I knew what people meant when they used the words "banging her" and I wanted it. I wanted to be banged! I could feel his balls hitting my butt as he fucked me. I felt like I was coming fast. I was giddy. I was feeling things in places I had never felt before. Deep inside me.

Then he stopped. He pulled out, turned me over on my stomach and went back inside me from behind. I was in shock! You can do this? It was even better. My clitoris was smack against the blanket on the ground and very time he thrust into me I had it both ways. I clung to the blanket and moaned as he rode me.

"Oh, God, fuck me," I heard myself murmuring. Then I came. I really came. I cried out. (Yes, I'm a screamer when my clit is engaged in the right way.)

Then he came. I loved those thrusts the most. Way inside me. Deep. Deep. All the way. As far as he could go. Like great, long stretches after an enormous push. Slower now but more powerful and deep. The ultimate thrust. He made sounds like he was releasing everything. Then it was over.

We lay there gasping for breath. The coyotes howled. I turned over and looked at the stars. He held me.

Over the next few weeks we did every position we could think of: side by side, doggie-style with me on my hands and knees, me on top of him, me on top of him backwards, me on his lap. At the end of all this he told me I was a fantastic lover. The best he'd ever had. I was so relieved. All the pain and disappointment I'd gone through with Rob seemed to be worth it. I never told Van the truth about my inexperience or what I'd suffered to learn about love for him. I really don't think it was my skill in bed that he was talking about. I think it must have been that I enjoyed sex more than other girls he'd been with. I am still a passionate woman.

Unfortunately, my relationship with Van ended on a strange note of irony. Before he left to go to school he confessed to me one of his most secret fantasies: that he'd always wanted to make love with a virgin.