I knew there were a group of guys back there. Apparently, my new position with my nearly bare butt now visible had their attention.He softly mused, “I suppose it is a balance between getting more and not seeming like you’d jump on every boner you create.”I took the chance to glance behind me. Three guys in their mid-20’s watching me while making comments among themselves.I nodded. I looked into his eyes, though mine were shielded by the dark glasses I wore. Was this man just a font of understanding words of guidance or was he looking to jump my body, again. After the last time, I had no doubt he would be eager to do it, again. And, the idea had crossed my mind, already. I had very much enjoyed him, too.He was right. That was what I was struggling with. “Exactly.” I smiled. How is it that my main confidant about this is a man who could be my father? Not that I could ever discuss anything like this with my father. But since this relationship has formed, “It isn’t like these guys should. The next day Paul's apartment was empty. I was unsurprised that he hadn't bothered to say goodbye. In all honesty I was pleased he had gone. I had no interest in him now, I had used him up, discarded him, no matter what he thought. The rest of the holiday passed uneventfully, only I had changed. I was twenty years old, but I had already been three different people.Jo the slut was born. Call it overcompensation, say something in my mind had broken, think what you will. I don't care about anyone or anything, not anymore. I experimented, built up a new wardrobe in weeks. Fishnet tights, short rubber skirts, corsets, peephole bras, thongs, stockings, basques, bustiers, knee-length boots, g-strings, bright red lipstick, heavy mascara, flavoured condoms, quick shag behind the nightclub, heavy drinking, heavy hangovers. This was my world now. I tormented my family, wandered around the house in skimpy satin chemises, brought boys home to spend the night.On one occasion I took one of my.
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