But I'm Still a Virgin

Ashley Adams waited in her modest home, Bible pressed tight against her chest. The knock startled her. She opened the door and found Jane Wilde standing there—young, lost, cheeks already flushing pink. “My dad told me to come here,” Jane stammered. “He said you could talk to me about… something.” Shame colored every word. She admitted a boy had touched her; rumors were already circling the church youth group. All lies, of course. It had only been a handjob. Ashley’s voice stayed gentle, almost priestly. “If he didn’t put anything inside your pussy, there’s no sin.” Jane twisted her fingers together. “Everybody always told me any kind of sex makes you dirty. I’m not dirty—I just feel stuff. I don’t know what to do with it.” Ashley smiled. “I can teach you ways to ease that itch without ever breaking your hymen.” The older woman’s eyes glittered. “I’ve been taking it in the ass for years. A tongue or two fingers on your clit never touched any virgin’s cherry either.” Jane’s mouth fell open. Her gaze flicked from Ashley’s calm smile to the Bible still clutched in her hands. Ashley stepped closer. “Wouldn’t you rather know how to take care of yourself?” “Is it really okay?” Jane whispered. “Does the Bible actually say that?” Ashley didn’t answer. She only plucked the book from Jane’s grasp, set it aside, and slid Jane’s top off. Cool fingers cupped small, firm tits; thumbs brushed stiff nipples. Jane’s breath caught, then frayed into tiny gasps. The scripture search was forgotten. Ashley guided her to the couch, peeled away the rest of her clothes, and pressed slow kisses between Jane’s legs. Her tongue flicked in confident strokes until Jane’s thighs trembled. When the girl was dripping, Ashley slicked lube over her own finger and eased it inside Jane’s tight, untouched ass. The shock of pressure drew a raw cry, followed by a low, filthy moan. Jane rocked back, greedy, shameless, every nerve singing. Sin or not, it burned like one—and the heat drove her straight over the edge.