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When I tell people where I grew up, and they know anything about the city, they assume that I was born into an underprivileged family, and that I am in some way tainted by my upbringing. Yes, Denmark is a very socially liberal country, but people still have their prejudice. It’s true that I grew up in one of the larger cities of Denmark, in an area some would describe as an immigrant ghetto, even though at that time Danish and foreign born were evenly split in numbers in that area.
As a matter of fact, my family was comparatively well off, my father working at a bank and my mother as a nurse. We lived in a part of the city that was technically part of, but just bordering, ‘the wrong side of the tracks’, as they say. But it was effectively a well off neighbourhood with houses instead of apartment buildings and gardens instead of concrete lots.
I describe myself as growing up in that particular part of the city instead of where I actually grew up, because of the danish municipal public school system. Unless your parents choose otherwise you will be sent to the nearest public school to where you live.
Because my parents felt it would be good for me to grow up with a mixed population of friends, I went to school with almost exclusively children of immigrants, refugees and the unemployed since the parents of the other children living around me did not have an equally open view on child rearing.
In the early days of my school years, this caused me to have few friends outside of school, even though I did spend some time with the children who lived around me I did not really feel that I belonged with them, both because they knew each other much better than I knew them and because, as I have later learned, I was born with a mild condition that causes me to not fully understand social interaction. So I kept mostly to myself when not at school.
Throughout my formative years and teens, I never had many female friends and developed into something of a tomboy. I didn’t have many girl-friends because most immigrant families in that area did not consider it proper for their daughters to be out late into the evening, and because I spent my afternoons running and training at the local athletics club. So after training I preferred to hang out with the guys at a local youth club, set up by the municipality to keep kids off the street in the evenings, instead of just heading home to my parents after training.
As we grew older, we began hanging out at each other’s houses after the club closed around 10pm, doing different things. Watching movies, listening to music, or just talking about sports. Whenever the talk hit on girls, I simply kept quiet and listened to them talk about how this girl had big breasts, or that girl had a big butt.
I lacked both, and even if I had had them, I tended to prefer either baggy clothes or track suits after working out, and because I have always practiced sports I never really gained much weight and by the time I was 18 I stood a little under 5 feet one inch tall, and weighed just under 115 pounds, with small but perky B-cup breasts sitting high on my chest above a firm well toned stomach, a small but firm butt above toned thighs.
Whenever the guys began talking about girls, and those girls seemed to me to be the exact opposite of me, I figured that I had little chance with any of my friends, and was satisfied with it staying like that since sex and boys didn’t really interested me. Don’t misunderstand me. I did not think that I was ugly or undesirable, and I knew that that my shoulder length, blonde hair, brown eyes and slim athletic build attracted some guys, but I figured that my quite small breasts and tiny behind made me unattractive, at least to the guys I hung out with.
On the other hand, I had a very vivid fantasy life, sexual and non-sexual both. Since none of the guys seemed interested in me, I was happy or at least satisfied, to use my imagination and manga books when I was aroused. Typically, I would spend an hour or two before I went to sleep, in bed with a romance manga or a book of the same sort, and put myself in the role of the heroine. Imagining I was the one who the hero was seducing or fighting for while the story went along.
These late night reading sessions usually ended up with me stroking myself to an orgasm with two fingers pressing into my clit, circling it rapidly while my other hand was massaging my small pink nipples, imagining the heroes of the story in bed with me. Even though I had never experienced sex, I thought I had a very good idea about what it would be like for the first time.
It turned out I was wrong.
What I am going to tell you, happened during a time when I did little other than hang out with the guys and run track at the athletics club. I had chosen not to attend our equivalent of High School, and had not been able to find a job yet either. So my days were pretty poker oyna monotonous and I usually just went from home to practice, on to the club and then home to one of my friend’s houses, and then back home again to sleep, and I became fairly familiar with the families of each of my friends because we spent as much time there as we did at home.
My friends preferred staying at my house because I had the basement all to myself, arranged into a flat with even a small kitchen nook and a separate toilet, though with no bathing area. But I preferred to stay at the my friends’ homes, since that was not at my home where there was the danger of the ever embarrassing encounter, between parents and friends, that every teenage girl dreads.
We of course spoke mostly danish to each other, but my friends spoke a mix of danish, bosnian and arabic among themselves. Over the years I picked up enough to understand most of what they said, but sometimes I was at a loss to what they were talking about. In this re-telling I will translate most of what was said into english so that it makes sense to the reader, but in the cases when I did not understand I will of course not be able to translate exactly what was said.
One evening, after practice I went over to my classmate and his older brother who was one year older than us’s apartment, where they lived with their parents, to watch some TV with them and another friend. When I arrived I was wearing my usual get up after an afternoon of practice, red tracksuit pants and a white t-shirt, after hanging the shirt at the door. As usual I had bathed at the track before leaving, and my hair was still a little wet after the shower. Back then I did not usually wear a bra, because I found them uncomfortable and my t-shirts were usually thick enough that they were not see through against my tanned skin and and only slightly darker nipples.
As usual the guys, Amar and Tarik and a third of our other friends named Sead, were already there when I arrived, having gone there from the club early and were about to put on a movie they had picked out earlier.
Their parents’ living room was a fairly standard setup in the early 2000s; a corner couch with two reclining chairs facing the house altar on each side of the couch and a low wooden coffee table in between. Amar and Tarik always called dibs on the reclining chairs when we watched TV at their place. I think that was traditionally the seat of their dad and their older brother when they were having family time, so they saw them as places of authority. I sat down in one end of the couch but quickly decided that it would be better to lay down and rest my head on the armrest with my feet towards the center, and Sead did the same in the opposite side.
Tarik started the film immediately as we sat down and it turned out to be “Top Gun” with Tom Cruise. I did not object too much, yes it was an action drama, but I had seen it before and it had a decent romantic plot for one of those, and I never expected the guys to cater to my tastes since I was the only girl in the group. And in truth I didn’t want to be seen as trying to be a girly girl. I’ve always done my best to be a social chameleon.
After we started the film, the brothers’ mother came into the living room from their dining room to say hi, something she did almost every time we were there, before going back to her husband. I think they spent most of their time in the kitchen anyway, but they were always in there when their sons had company over. After a minute, she returned and smiled to me as she handed me a towel. “Janni would you mind wearing this for a while? The couch might get stained by your wet hair.”
I answered with a little smile as well and a nod. “Of course, I am sorry.” Took the towel and wrapped it around my hair before laying my head down on the armrest again and watched the movie with the guys.
Five minutes into the movie, the door to the kitchen opened again and the older brother of Tarik and Amar came into the living room and waved to us all. His name was Zlatan and he was much older than his brothers, 28 I think. At around 6 foot, he was taller than his brothers who were both about 5’6″. He had moved out a few years back, so I kind of knew him, he moved out because he was getting married to the daughter of one of their parents’ friends from back home. When he lived at home he was in fairly good shape, but I think he had let himself go after he moved, because he had put on quite a few pounds and now he weighed what looked like close to 230 pounds.
As I said, he waved to us as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. “Hello guys. You mind if I join you? Mom, dad and I had to have a talk but we are done now and I don’t feel like going home yet.” Tarik was distracted by the movie and just shook his head, and Amar pointed back to the couch, indicating that he could sit back there with me and Sead.
Zlatan shrugged and stepped over the table carefully before he sat down in the corner of the couch between canlı poker oyna Sead’s feet and mine, and slung his legs up on the oak table. I was short enough that I didn’t have to crouch up to make room for him but Sead had to make room for him by curling up on his part of the couch.
As we watched the movie, I was starting to get a little drowsy. I had seen the movie before, and it wasn’t really my cup of tea. Yes, there were some decent romantic parts to the movie, but most of it was just male grandstanding and chest thumping, which never really grabbed my interest. Except the beach volley scene, which was great.
It wasn’t long before Sead got up and said that he was leaving. I am guessing that he was tired of having to curl up to make room for Zlatan, but he said that he had to get up early the next day to do some stuff with his parents. So we all waved said goodbye and after he left, continued to watch the movie.
As the movie progressed, I nodded off and started to dream. I found myself naked in a large bed covered with feather pillows and sheets. Lt. Pete Mitchell. Callsign Maverick was slowly kissing and licking my lips and tongue while his hands were holding mine firmly above my head. For a long time, he continued to kiss me and I yearned to kiss him back when he pulled away teasingly. His lips then began tracing love bites down my chest and over my stomach, small moans escaping my lips as he caressed my skin with his lips, and my back arching a little to try and increase the contact between his lips and my skin.
Moving lower and lower, Maverick’s lips quickly found the junction where my legs met, his love bites continuing to caress my inner thighs before his tongue slowly traced in between my small outer labia and the warm wet feeling of his saliva spread inside me as it mixed with the juices of my slowly increasing excitement. His tongue continued gently caressing my sex for minutes, building my excitement as it stroked my tiny clit and sending shivers all the way up through my spine and down into my toes, making them curl as I felt the orgasm slowly approaching.
Suddenly, Maverick stopped kissing my clit, and again started kissing his way up my body, this time stopping at my chest and wrapped his lips around my hard nipple, and his tongue began circling around it in slow firm strokes. I felt a pressure between my legs as he pressed his groin against mine, running his length along my soaking entrance, slowly grinding his warm member into my clit and inner lips. As I felt the pleasure spreading again, I arched my back and let out a loud gasp which was abruptly broken off with a hand across my lips, stifling any sound threatening to escape, and I felt his shaft pressing into my clit hard making another surge of pleasure shoot through my body bringing me close to the edge.
That woke me up from my sleep.
I found myself lying on my side, still facing the TV. Tom Cruise was in his cockpit, fighting some MIGs, and Tarik and Amar’s eyes were glued to the screen. Zlatan however had moved. He was no longer sitting in the corner of the couch, but had lain down behind me on the sofa, one hand holding the towel against my mouth, while the other was down my track suit pants and inside my panties, pressing me against his body. He had his thumb pressing against my clit while three fingers were exploring my inner lips which were very wet already. He was stroking them slowly, and I could feel something hard poking against my butt as he pressed it back into his groin.
I tried to speak to tell him to stop, but the towel muffled any sound that came from me enough that no one except Zlatan could hear, and I don’t think he understood what did come out. I decided that I wasn’t going to fight harder, I didn’t want my two friends to turn around and see what was happening to me. Instead I closed my eyes and shook my head a little to try to get him to understand that I wanted him to stop. But as he continued stroking me, and I felt the feelings and emotions from the dream begin to reassert themselves on my mind, I began to relax.
Zlatan continued to massage my clit with his thumb and pressing two of his fingers against my inner lips while his middle finger began exploring my entrance without entering me but putting a constant pressure against it as he did. My breath quickly increased in pace as I tried to breathe despite the damp towel covering my mouth. After what must have been less than a minute like that, I suddenly felt a warmth run through my core and up my spine that I had only ever felt by myself and nothing close to this intense before, and I arched my back as I came, my body shaking heavily as my orgasm continued while I felt Zlatan move behind me.
As my orgasm fogged my thoughts and weakened my limbs, Zlatan sat up and moved me on top of him facing the TV and with my legs on the outside of his so that I could not close them easily. He discarded the towel, putting his lips to my ear and making a shushing sound as he lifted my t-shirt above internet casino my head, covering my face and exposing my breasts, as well as trapping my arms above my head .
I felt paralyzed as his fingers returned to my sex and resumed caressing my clit and inner lips while his other hand, now freed from pressing the towel against my mouth, began exploring my small breasts. He alternated between pinching my nipples and squeezing the mounds between his thick fingers. Quickly, I felt my passions begin to rise again and my breath started to quicken as he again brought me closer to another orgasm. I tried to keep my mouth closed tightly so Tarik and Amar would not hear me and turn around and see what was the commotion was, and more importantly see my naked breasts and Zlatan’s hand inside my sweatpants.
I could not see anything except the outline of the TV through my t-shirt covering my eyes, so I was terrified that the guys were watching me, but at the same time I began feeling desperate for another orgasm, and I heard him whisper into my ear very quietly. “Sit still and do not move.” I must have hesitated, because he repeated, a little harder in his tone. “Sit still.”
I nodded a little and Zlatan put a hand in my panties under my butt and lifted before he slipped my pants and panties down over my butt and as far down my thighs as they would go without me being able to close my legs, in one quick move as he bounced me up. He adjusted his hand behind me for a moment and then bounced again, and suddenly I felt something warm and strangely hard yet soft at the same time press against my pelvis. I was not completely naïve so I knew what had been pressing into my back all evening and what was now between my legs, and for a brief moment I thought he was going to press inside me then and there. But his dick bounced off my pelvis and slipped in front of me, making it slide over my clit as I came down to rest on his groin straddling his penis. And my legs spread around the outside of Zlatan’s legs.
I shook my head again more vigorously, I did not want to loose my virginity like that, to him, there on my friend’s parents’ couch. I tried to speak quietly so the other two would not hear, but it was hard because of the shock of what was now happening. “No, Zlatan please. I don’t want..”
I could not see, because of my shirt still covering my face, but Amar heard my plea, and turned to see what was happening, and I am sure his eyes must have bulged when he saw me sitting there on his oldest brother’s lap with my breasts out and my pants down to my thighs. He would not have been able to see his brothers penis out of his pants because of my sweats covering his line of sight and my body hiding it under me. Today I know that Zlatan was not terribly impressive when it comes to penis size, but at that moment, his penis pressing into the crevice of my sex felt huge and threatening.
Eyes bulging, Amar tapped his brother on the arm, and Tarik asked what he wanted when he looked at him and caught me out of the corner of his eye and let out a Bosnian expletive that they usually reserved for something completely unbelievable. I could hear Zlatan sigh behind me and say something under his breath that I did not understand, before he shifted under me, and retracted his penis back into his pants.
I tried to pull the shirt down to free my hands and cover my chest, but Zlatan grabbed a hold of my hands and held them behind my head so my arms were forced to stay raised and pulled back. He spoke to his brothers in Bosnian. “Do either of you know how to treat a girl?”
The two responded that sure, they did, but it was clear that they were inflating themselves from their tones, and I knew only Tarik had had a girlfriend, and not one that I thought would have let him touch her sexually.
“It is alright. We all have to start somewhere. You have to know what to do once you get married to a good Bosnian girl. The Danish ones are good for practicing. They are easy to get to have sex, and once you are married it is important that you know how to make your wives happy. Come over here.”
As he spoke, I sat very still while his free hand traced circles on my lower tummy. I had a lot of trouble focusing my thoughts as I felt his fingers caressing my tummy and then slide down between my legs and hold my sex as he talked to his brothers. I understood about half of what was said even though they spoke to each other in Bosnian but I will relay as best as I can.
“Have you seen her breasts before?”
Amar answered that they hadn’t seen them naked before but that I sometimes wore thin t-shirts so they had seen some.
“She hangs around you all the time. Proper girls don’t hang out alone with boys at night. This slut wants you to do her.” I was about to object and tell him that it wasn’t true when he pushed his middle finger inside my warm wet sex and slid it over my clit at the same time, turning my protest into a moan. He didn’t move his finger any more than that, just keeping it inside me. “They are small compared to most girls’ but not the smallest, and her nipples fit them well. I don’t like it when breasts have large nipples, but men are different with what they like and these can still grow.”
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