Read Dirty White Candy, The Beginning, Book 1 Online
Authors: Anita Cox
Dirty White Candy, The Beginning, Book 1
Dirty White Candy
Book 1: The Beginning
ANITA COX
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2012 Anita Cox
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
**WARNING**
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.
DEDICATION
Dedicated to my husband, who came up with my very naughty pen name.
Also dedicated to those who have the bravery to live out loud.
Sex was never anything I had craved in the past.
I had cravings, don’t get me wrong, but they were generally for ice cream, pizza or a cigarette.
Sex just had always seemed like a natural addition in a relationship, like having cream with your coffee.
But after my douche bag husband up and traded me off for a younger version, I found myself alone and craving something.
At first, I wasn’t sure what it was.
I thought I was just lonely.
I began to wonder if I missed human contact or simple interaction.
Masturbation was suitable for a while.
It had become a necessity during my marriage so I was fine continuing on in my single life.
But it began to take longer and longer to climax, adding to my frustration.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that sex was what I craved.
Fantasies began taking up most of my spare time as I imagined others touching me, kissing me and caressing my body.
But I didn’t want a relationship.
I didn’t want love, flowers, teddy bears and heartache.
I just wanted to fuck.
While that may be crude, it’s also true.
But girls who had one night stands were whores.
I didn’t want to be a whore.
After all, I had a reputation to maintain and a family to consider.
One night over drinks, I confided in my friend Stacy.
I needed sex, just not a relationship.
“Why is that anything to be ashamed of?” she said with a giggle.
“Everyone needs a good pounding every now and again.”
My face flushed.
“To be truthful, sex wasn’t something I had ever discussed with anyone before, not even my now ex-husband.
He just did what he wanted and I accepted it.
But that relationship had always left me wanting more.
I wanted pleasure.
I just don’t want to be a whore or a bar fly.
I don’t need that sort of reputation.”
I took a long, hard drink through my straw, hoping to get enough of a buzz to help me relax.
Stacy swirled the straw in her glass, looking at the bottom of it as if she were deep in thought.
“We’ve been friends for a long time.
But you’re one of my stuffiest friends.”
“I’m not stuffy!” I protested.
“You’re an uptight prude, Candy.
You are as conservative as it gets.”
She raised her eyebrow.
“I’ve never heard you talk about doing anything naughty at all.
There is no adventure in your life, no risk.”
Witty come-backs evading me, I began to pout while I sucked down the remainder of my drink.
“So, what if I don’t want to be uptight?”
I asked before shaking my empty glass at the bartender.
“Candy?”
“What?”
I eyed her as I paid for my drink.
“Say something naughty.”
Stacy leaned in toward me, her eyes dancing as she smiled.
“Say something raunchy.”
“Here?”
I leaned back in my chair away from her.
“Yes.
Now.
Do it.”
“I will not!
What if someone hears me?”
My heart began thumping in my chest.
What was she playing at?
“Prude.”
There she sat, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed, firmly making her point.
Stacy knew me better than anyone and she was convinced I was a prude.
I was not a prude, just inexperienced and easily embarrassed.
My face burned red, but this time with anger.
I was not a prude and I was going to prove it.
Unbuttoning my shirt to show a little more cleavage, I leaned in toward her.
“I’m so fucking horny; I could fuck every guy in this place dry and still beg for more.”
The shock on Stacy’s face only lasted a fraction of a second as it turned into a mischievous smile.
“Well done.
Now, come to my place tomorrow night around eight.
Nick is out of town and I’m having a toy party?”
“Toy party?”
“You know . . . sex toys.
A woman comes and sets up different toys and explains how to use them.
Sometimes she does a demonstration at certain parties,”
Stacy grinned like a Cheshire cat, “usually
my
parties.”
“And you do this when your husband is out of town?”
Was she cheating on him?
What did she mean by demonstration?
How does one demonstrate sex toys?
“Yes, but only because he’s bashful.
He loves it when I have these parties.”
“I didn’t know you were such a harlot,” I teased.
“You have no idea!”
Stacy slammed back her drink and ordered another round.
My mind was reeling.
I’d never used a toy.
How did I get to be thirty-four years old and never use a toy?
I felt
my heart race a little at the thought of it.
I didn’t want to embarrass my friend, but I didn’t want to be over dressed either.
“What should I wear?”
Stacy laughed at me again.
“I love you.”
“Don’t tease!
What do I wear?”
“You’re coming to my house.
Wear what you want.
I can’t believe the look of shock on your face when I mentioned toys and your first question is what to wear.”
She shook her head.
“Stacy, please have some pity.
I’ve never been to anything like this and I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.
You’re my friend.
Help me!”
“Fine.
Wear something that makes you feel sexy.
The main thing is to be comfortable.
Some girls come in running suits, some come in what they wore to the office and some like to dress like hookers.
Just be comfy.
And leave the attitude at home.
If you give someone a snotty look, I’ll kick your ass!”
I refused to protest again.
She was always the brave and brazen one and I was a little on the shy side.
Maybe I had come off as being a prude.
Whatever the case, I was excited.
After spending most of the day ripping my closet apart, I realized I didn’t have one solitary thing in my possession that made me feel sexy.
A trip to the mall and a couple of hundred dollars later, I was in my bathroom, freshly showered wearing lace panties and a matching bra that did little to hide or support anything.
I put my eye makeup on a little darker than normal and rolled my light brown hair in rollers to give it some volume.
I took a deep breath before slipping into the little black dress I bought.
It was shorter than anything I had worn in a long time.
I would have to be mindful of how I sat.