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She had long red hair worn in a braid, was wearing knee-high black boots and cutoffs, and was brazenly slutty in that top, showing off her very nicely shaped breasts that were just a little on the small side. She was also a major bitch and her makeup made her look like a fuck-toy slut. I stuck my tongue out at her to demonstrate my true feelings.That bitch in the mirror pantomimed my actions perfectly!“Do I want to go sexy with a slutty vibe, slutty, or outright trashy whore?” I asked the provocative image in the mirror. My online friend had helped me pick out my clothes for the evening. “How about halfway between a slut and a trashy whore?”Yes! That was the perfect look.I’m getting fucking wet just seeing at how brazenly slutty I look, I thought to myself. Well, fuck me like a slut; Kiera’s rubbing off on me! I think I’ll wear my black lace thong and bralette. That will surprise him.My makeup was plastered on dark and heavy. My lips were dark-cherry red with black outlines. I went for broke on the mascara and used a dark eyeshadow. I had begun teasing out my hair to get that 1980’s look but then opted for a single braid down the back. Other than my lace thong and Shien bralette I wore a ripped-hem black cropped t-shirt. I had ripped the collar off, giving it a big wide open neck line. Factory-aged denim cutoffs covered my bottom. I had almost gone with my really ragged ones, because they showed the bottom swell of my ass, but the pair I chose had such a nice taper to the cut that I felt looked better.I did as my friend suggested. She had suggested a lace choker and it added a horny-vixen mien to my overall look. Black knee-high boots added a sexually-aggressive look. If you ever want to take a somewhat slutty outfit and push far into the realm of sluttiness, knee-high boots with shorts is a winner.As an added surprise, I had applied some temporary tattoos. I had put a tramp-stamp, done up like angels wings in tribal graphics, on the small of my back, which is much harder to do than you’d think. I also applied a rose on my left thigh and a mandala right beside my pubic hair. My pubes were a bit too wide for it to go where I wanted, so I shaved my patch super-thin, leaving just a vertical line about two fingers in width.When he drove up on his cycle to pick me up, I had just finished packing for the weekend. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. After we kissed, I turned to load my bag into his saddlebag and he went insane for me when he saw the tramp-stamp. He couldn’t keep his hands off me! I loved it.“Put this one and we can talk while we ride,” he said to me as he handed me a wireless headset. Glade was dressed in riding boots, a t-shirt, and jeans. His hair was Ataşehir Escort also tied back.He started up his old Honda Shadow, decked out with saddlebags and looking like and old Harley, as we hit the road, travelling back to my parents’ home so she could “analyze his aura.” The ride was exhilarating. The wind in my hair, the conversation, and the scenery was uplifting. The vibrating of the cycle sent shivers up and down my spine that shot straight to my pussy. I’ve heard stories about women that orgasm from riding a motorcycle. I didn’t; but a couple of hours on the back of the bike, pressing my body into his, and feeling the powerful motor vibrate my body had me in a major state of heat.Over the past week I had come to terms with both my mother and her behavior. I think I finally understood. My mother, although perverted and demented, had been looking out for me in her own way. I was finally happy once more and at peace. I realized that everything she had done over the years was to my benefit and all designed to help me stop being terrified of being myself. I hid behind insecurity and jealousy because I couldn’t embrace the fact that I was pretty much exactly like my parents, my friends, and all the others that embrace their true selves without remorse, inhibition, shame, or guilt. I felt loved and liberated.When we got to my parents’ house my mother’s friends, Marsha and Linda the High Priestess, were there. With me finally understanding why my mother threw herself at every guy I liked, I was much better prepared for her acting all slutty.We pulled up and all three women greeted us warmly. I hadn’t seen Linda or Marsha in years and we quickly caught up amidst hugs. My father ran out and started fawning over my boyfriend’s bike. True to his character, my lover immediately charmed the ladies. He “broke the ice” with them by performing some sort of precognition magic trick over whether or not mom properly guessed whether we were taking his cycle or his car.After they were all done fawning over my lover, they put him a chair inside of one of the small cabins on the land—it used to be a small campground—and asked him a multitude of questions designed to evoke emotions while they “studied his aura”.“Tell me an outright lie,” Linda said.“I do NOT find you incredibly attractive and sexy.”“What was your worst day ever?” Linda countered.“About two weeks ago a woman I was really into ended things with me and then another woman ended her connection to me immediately afterwards.”“Kryssi! You are such a stupid bitch.”“Mom!”“Are you aware that you make every woman around you horny?”“Mom! Stop.”“It’s a valid question, Kryssi.”“I do? But there’s Ataşehir Escort Bayan four of you and one of me! Challenge accepted.”Linda stared at him intently. He stared back without discomfort. “Are you aware that Samantha has her legs open and is flashing you intentionally?”“Yes, I love it.” He turned to me. “No offense, my sex-ninja.”“Sex Ninja?”“Yes, mom. He calls me these weird names all the time.”Linda never took her eyes off of him but spoke to me. “How does that make you feel, Krystal.”“I’m not happy about my slutty mother flashing him, but if she can pull him away from me, it isn’t meant to be.”“I meant the pet-names,” she retorted.“Oh. It’s an improvement over what Rick called me. ‘Bitch’ just doesn’t show the same amount of affection.”Mom spoke to him. “How do you always know exactly what to say and do?”He shrugged. “I put myself into the other’s situation and think about how I would feel and then act accordingly.”At one point my father burst through the door wearing a hockey mask and wielding a baseball bat. I screamed in fright while my lover just laughed and congratulated him on an excellent Friday the thirteenth prank.Afterwards, we all sat around the fire pit, except for my father who took Glade’s cycle for a spin and wrecked it in a ditch, and mom and her friends cross examined my lover. I won’t bore with all the esoteric things discussed, but the consensus was that he is full of life and personal power and lives life to the fullest. Under their scrutiny I learned nothing new, other than my mother’s friends also had the hots for him.My mother was her usual self, flirting and flashing and inviting him for physical activity. Having reached an understanding of her ways, I was much more permissive and laughed along with them. Her friends were almost as bad, but they seemed to stop at innuendo and requests for their chance if we didn’t work out.My boyfriend suggested that he and I go for a ride and then we all watch Friday the Thirteenth together when we got back. He had the foresight to download the movie onto his phone and to pack his projector, just in case.“Come on, Glade, let me get you away from the horny witches before I claw out their eyes.”I hugged them all and Glade promised that we’d be back. He walked behind me as we went to his cycle. He said it was just to see how sexy I looked. I gave him the benefit of exaggerating the sway of my hips. My father’s wreck on his bike had dented the gas tank and scuffed it up a bit. He laughed when he saw it and commented that he had done much worse.He took off at a leisurely pace, seemingly at random. We found ourselves in my old home town; a tiny little place Escort Ataşehir being more rural than urban with old-fashioned middle-America small town charm and tiny minds to match the smallness of the town. My parents, and myself by proxy, were the crazy outcasts. “She’s a witch, burn her,” and “Slut Witch” were my nicknames in high school.He parked the cycle near the high school and we strolled through the town. Before I knew what I was doing, I was telling him all about my childhood, my few friends, and what I did at each building we encountered. He had a way of coaxing out the fondest of my memories and I gave him my life story in babbling details. Every now and then we’d pass some other people. Mostly though, we were alone.Eventually we returned to my old high school and then into the park that borders it. I had gushed about the teachers I had liked, some of the antics, and then pointed out the spot in the park where prom was held my senior year.“During my senior year the gym was being remodeled and prom was held right there,” I pointed.“Who did you go to prom with?” he asked me.“I didn’t go. I spent the night with Jen and some other friends and we sat around talking about how stupid and childish prom is. Now I wish I would have gone; not that anyone would’ve asked me.”He checked his phone real quick, out of my line of sight, and then asked me if I knew how they had decorated. I confessed that I had dropped by multiple times to see how they set it all up and began describing it.“And the stage for crowning the prom royalty was right there,” I said pointing. “And we’re right in the middle of the area where the dancefloor was.”Suddenly the song “The Flame” by Cheap Trick played on his phone. He took a step back.“May I have this dance?” he asked me.Although I was dressed in slutty biker-slut clothes, I almost cried. He held me and we slow-danced. The entire time he started talking to me as if I were his date for the prom. He even did a good impression of tentatively moving his hands down my back to get a feel of my ass.I snickered into his chest when his hands touched my fake tattoo and I felt his thick manhood grow stiff against me. As soon as the song ended I grabbed his hand and sprinted to his bike, pulling him with me.“Take me home, now, please!” I was crying. I didn’t want him to see that.He sped us back to my parents’ place and they were getting loud and boisterous.“Who’s up for a movie?” Glade asked them.He and my father began setting up and impromptu screen and both Linda and my mother pulled me aside. “What’s wrong?”“Nothing’s wrong, I swear.”“You’ve been crying,” my mother said.“Your aura’s going crazy like a lava-lamp of emotions,” Linda added softly.I told them about what he did in a hushed voice amidst their oohs and aahs.Linda just looked at my boyfriend blankly. She then grabbed me and pulled me directly in front of her. “If you don’t keep this one, you are a stupid fool! I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s naturally like this, that’s the only answer.”

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