Oh God, PW Kink Meme. :| Stop making me write HORRIBLE HORRIBLE THINGS.

I don't even know what's going on. Het? WTF.

Vera is a kind-hearted person who likes to make people happy. But she is also very repressed and lonely, yearning for love and attention. She also has no idea what intimate relationships are supposed to be like.

Long story short: Vera fucks anyone and anything she can wrap her legs around because she wants to love/be loved, and unknowingly leaves a trail of broken hearts.

She had little to no contact with the outside world. With the recent death of her father, Vera Misham needed love more than ever.

Shortly before her father had died, he'd bought a computer for their apartment. In her moment of need for some kind of interaction, she turned to the internet. To begin with, she was completely lost and unsure, as she was in all social situations. She started by searching for the magician troupe she'd loved so much, Troupe Gramarye, Ace Magicians. Quite quickly, she came across a Troupe Gramarye message board and signed up immediately after finding it. She wasn't sure what to do. A "Welcome thread" caught her eye.

"Hello, sirs and madams.
I hope you will welcome me into your community. I am very lonely and really want to know people.
I love Troupe Gramarye. I saw them once when I was younger and I was asked to make things to help Mr Zak when he was in trouble.
I have long dark hair and I love to draw.
Thank you very much in advance for all your kindness.
Yours faithfully,
Miss Magic Shy Girl

Her father had taught her well in the art of letter writing, she thought as she pressed "Submit". She'd surely fit into the community. Or at least that was her theory.

lol ur a laff. wnna b frnds??????/////?/?/??

The message was in her inbox within minutes. She stared at it for a few moments, mostly trying to decipher it. "Lol"? Wasn't that when something sort of flopped about? And what did a/s/l mean? Unless it was just a pattern.

I am new at this, so, please help me understand the vocabulary.
What do "lol" and "a/s/l" mean?
Yours faithfully/sincerely
Miss Magic Shy Girl

lololololol ur funny
lol means laff out loud. a/s/l stands 4 age sex location

Oh. Lol. I am nineteen years old and three quarters. I live in an apartment in Los Angeles. And sex? I don't know much about it.

lol well im 19 macho in la too. babe im guessin ur a girl by ur user. i no a bit bout sex if you want tips ;)

Vera was baffled. She wasn't sure about her specific reasons for joining the community to begin with and now, it appeared she was being propositioned for something she knew very little about. All she knew was that her father used to turn off the television if the word sex was even mentioned.

do u no were ppl park is??????????

It took her a few moments to translate what he'd said this time.

Is sex good?

oh hunny cakes wiv me its ALLLLLLLLWAAAAAAYYYSSS sweet as hunny

That didn't really answer her question. She wasn't really sure what was going on at all now. She could just stop replying but for some reason, she didn't want to.

I think I live near the People Park. I don't leave the house very often though.

omg y?

The conversation continued in a similar vein. "gangstabizzoiyo" kept making odd statements with positively infantile spelling while Vera posed curious questions, mostly on the topic of sex. Eventually, she gave him her address. The way he put it, this sex thing sounded very interesting and she was curious to try it out.

A week or so after their first online meeting, Vera waited by the door of her apartment for her new companion. He turned up. He was about half an hour late, but he turned up regardless and that was what mattered.
'Dizzayum, girl, you'se got a bangin' rack!!!" was the first thing he shouted.
"A... banging... what?" she asked quietly, raising her sketchbook to her chest.
"Your hooters!" he reiterated.
She simply blinked in response.
"Your jugs! Titties? Knockers? Funbags?"
She carried on staring blankly.
To explain his point, he reached out and grabbed hold of one of her breasts. Her eyes wideneded in surprise.
"My... breasts?" she mumbled.
"Yeah, sugar-dumplin'!" he replied, removing his hand to give a thumbs up, "They're awesome!"
"Oh... thank you..." she almost smiled, a faint blush rising across her cheeks.
"Dayum, shortie, you'se fine!"
"Shortie? I'm taller than you," she pointed out.
"Let's be gettin' inside, G?"
She led him through into her bedroom.

"Wow, I can't really believe this is happenin', baby doll!"
"By the way," she started, closing the door behind them, "My name doesn't begin with G. It's Vera."
"Yeah, you told me, honey pot!" the young man chuckled, twisting his oddly styled hair. "An' I told you my g-man handle is Wocky, right?"
"Yes. Now, that sex thing. Can we do it now?" she asked, putting her sketchbook on the bedside table.
"Whoah!" he exclaimed, blushing, "You'se pretty forward for a V to the Irgin, baby girl!"
"The way you described it," she carried on, still speaking in a calm, collect manner. "It's a simple act... but it produces some kind of dizzying high."
"Uh... yeah, um, that's it an' a... Dizzayum, girl, you got me so hard!"
"So, first we take our clothes off?" she asked, starting to unbutton her dungarees anyway.
"Giiiiiiiiiirrrrrl, I swear, you'se a mysterious girl an' I wanna get close to you!" he gulped, staring at her as she pulled of her shirt. "Dizzayum girl, those really are some fiiiiiiine-ass titties!"
She blinked and prodded lightly at the strap of her polka-dot bra.
"You really like breasts, don't you?" she asked.
"Whooo, bizzoi, do I!"
"I don't know, I asked you," she replied, pulling down the dungarees to reveal white cotton panties. "But I quite like them too. They feel really soft and they have a nice weight to them."
Wocky practically tore his own clothes off.

"So, I lie down and you take over. That's the idea, right?" she asked, climbing onto her double bed and lying back luxuriously.
"You s-s-s-sure, baby cakes?" he stammered, suddenly coming across nervously.
"Yes. I've gone almost twenty years without being touched and I want to know how it feels."
Within seconds, he'd removed all of their respective underwear.
Vera looked him up and down then giggled.
"Watchu laughin' at, giiiiiiirl?" he pouted, rolling on a condom.
"It's quite a funny looking thing, isn't it?" she laughed, "As far of my understanding of sex goes, it's not very sexy, is it?"
"That's a little below the belt, sweetie pie..." he frowned.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I mean nothing by it!" she smiled, "Please continue!"
He practically jumped on her. His hands clumsily groped for her breasts and he gyrated his hips against hers.

The feeling of another person's hands and body on her felt so... different. Nice different. There was a certain warmth she never felt when touching her own skin. This was the feeling of love she'd been searching for...
Without warning, she felt something force it's way inside her, between her legs. She let out a pained squeal.
"You okay, sweet cheeks?" he panted.
"It... it hurts..." she whispered, "I didn't expect..."
He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to the new sensation.
"It'll be okay, honey pie!" he comforted.
"Just..." she winced, "Just... carry on... Carry on... I think it's okay now..."
He started to thrust clumsily.
She wrapped her arms around his neck so to feel closer to him.
"Baby girl..." he panted, trying to move faster.
"Starting to feel nice..." she whispered in his ear.

Something inside Vera felt as if it had melted. Or something similar anyway. She felt incredibly hot but she liked it. As he pushed into her, something was getting pressed that made her gasp. Before long, she felt too tired to take any more.
"That's... Enough please..." she panted.
"Huh...?" he gasped, not really with it.
He pulled out and blinked, still breathing heavily.
"I'm quite tired. I'd like to rest now. Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon though," she smiled.
"Huh... huh?!"
She got up off the bed and started redressing. Wocky stared on, completely baffled.
"Sorry, if you wouldn't mind leaving. I'm not used to having people around, so I would quite like to be alone now."
Slowly, he got redressed and left the apartment without saying a word.
Vera felt truly happy.

Alone, Vera started thinking of the possibilities of sex. With no basis of comparison, she had no way of telling if Wocky was either an absolute love god or a bumbling moron. But she was quite keen on finding out. That warm feeling she'd felt was comparable to the feeling she had when watching magic performances.
Back on the internet, she did a google search on the subject. It turned out to be a rather bad idea as she was just left baffled by the many advertisements for "XXX HARDCORE". This dead end brought her to the conclusion that maybe she needed to experiment. Which may involve leaving the house.

After standing at the front door of her apartment for about an hour, she finally took a deep breath then took her first step outside in quite a while.
She strode stiffly out of the building and soon found herself in a park. She clung to her sketchbook and sat on a bench beside a lake. She watched, intrigued, as couples walked past, holding hands. She wondered if they'd ever had sex. As she pondered this, she started sketching, two bodies entwined in a lover's tryst.

These trips to the park became a daily event. Often, she'd meet various gentlemen and invite them back to her apartment. The "research" solved her previous question and she'd come to the conclusion that Wocky had been a mediocre lover.

Within a few months, she'd become somewhat of a sexpert and found herself teaching others.
During one particular trip to the park, she had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. She had a look around and soon found a strange tall man, hiding in the bushes.
"Have you been watching me?" she asked.
"I may have been observing but I can promise you that my intentions were of the noblest reasoning!"
"I'm not sure that makes complete sense, but I like you," she smiled.
"Why thank you, Miss..." he blushed.
"Are you watching me for sexual gratification?" she asked.
He practically screamed in response.
"Is that a yes?"
"It's... well, to say that I was watching for sexual gratification is somewhat incorrect as, being a scholar, I believe that there are far more important things which is why I refuse to pursue sexual activity in an active manner as such though, if it were to occur-"
"I've seen you here before. Running away with a pair of girls panties."
He started busying himself with a book he was holding.
"Okay, I confess... I, Wesley Stickler, a gentleman and a scholar, do entertain such fantasies revolving around ladies, their panties and the contents thereof, but possibly due to my social standing and demeanour, I have never found myself in a situation where sex may occur."
"Well, I would say this is a situation," she said, putting a hand over the book and closing it.
"You... mean..." he mumbled, finally at a loss for words.
"We're two people. I fully enjoy sex and make a living from it and you want to try it, so... yes, I'd say so."
"Wait, madam, a living? Are you a jezebel? A lady of the night?" he gasped.
"Oh, no no no... Sex inspires me! It helps me paint... beautiful pictures... I sell them and they go for quite nice prices," she smiled proudly.
And within the hour, before Mr Stickler even had the chance to learn her name, they were on her bed with her legs wrapped around him.

By her twentieth birthday, Vera started to notice problems with her new lifestyle. Each day, her door was littered with love letters, gifts and desperate visitors. Wocky regularly appeared, begging her to be his number one girl. She had no further interest in any of her callers.
What she started to find was that the only person she had any interest in was a figure from her past. She somehow felt that maybe she'd been building up to this one man. To please him. He was the first man to try and reach out to her. True, he also tried to murder her, but that possibly added to the appeal.
She wasn't even sure why she suddenly thought of him. But when she did, she couldn't stop thinking about him. The man was in prison, rightfully so, but she still wasn't deterred. She wanted to meet him again and love him until neither of them could move. For now though, she only had the luxury of her imagination...

She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. One of her hands circled her breast in feather light strokes and the other trailed down her stomach and for a moment rested in between her legs. She took a deep breath and pictured his face. Slowly, she started to rub at the softness of her clitoris.
The man she was imagining would rub it. He'd give her a soft kiss on the lips then move down to caress the clit with his tongue. He'd lick so softly to start with... then faster and faster and faster... Then when she didn't think she could take any more, he'd stop then move back up to kiss her breasts. He'd take his time, lavishing each breast with equal attention. And not until they'd both been shown ample affection, he'd finally go to penetrate her. He'd love her like a gentleman, a deadly gentleman, but he'd love her so gently and muffle her climactic screams with soft kisses. When it was over, he held her and stroked her hair, whispering the sweetest of nothings in her ear.
On her own, she found that there was no one to care for her in such a way. She panted and cried out then drifted to sleep.

This dream theatre performed daily until Vera couldn't take it any more. One day, she surrendered and made a phone call to that prison, requesting a visit. It was granted and within a week, she found herself being led through the hallways of the prison.
"Mr Gavin, you've got a visitor," the guard called as they approached the cell.
"Is it my dreadful little brother? Because, to be honest, I'd rather not see him again," a stern voice replied. As cold as the voice was, it set a fire within Vera.
"No, sir! It's a Miss Misham, sir. Vera Misham."
"What?!?!" he barked, coming into view through the bars. Vera's heart leapt.
"She says it's a conjugal visit."
"Conjugal? I'm not married, so that would be impossible," he growled. "Mr..." she stammered, returning to her former nervous innocent self.
"Vera... it's been a while..." he sneered at her, staring into her eyes, baring through to her soul, "Was it the trial where you had me put in here for a second life sentance?"
"Well... to be fair... Mr Gavin... Kristoph..." she blushed wildly, "You had... murdered... and tried..."
"So... This visit then?" he sighed, waving the subject away.
"Yes..." she whispered.
"Did you want to be alone?" the guard asked.
"Please..." she replied, holding onto one of the bars. She inadvertently found herself rubbing it up and down.
"Okay, just let me... I'll lock the main door while I open the bars for you. Miss," he said, doing as he said.
"Do you not trust me?" Kristoph smirked.
"There you go, Miss Misham," the guard offered, ignoring Kristoph. She slipped into the cell then the guard shut it behind her. "How long would you like?"
"Ha..." he laughed.
"A night?" she asked.
"Hm... well, there's an alarm button on the wall here..." he pointed out, before leaving the room.

The two people stood face to face in silence.
"So, you came here to have sex with me?" Kristoph sneered.
"I..." she mumbled.
"Well, to be fair, it has been quite a while since I've had a good sexual conquest," he smiled, walking her towards the cell cot.
She leant up to kiss him, remembering the soft luxurious kisses the fantasy Kristoph had blessed her with.
The real Kristoph gave her a short, biting kiss and pushed her onto the cot.
On her back, she slowly started to undress. Imaginary Kristoph had taken hold of her hand and slowly taken over the task of undressing her. Then he'd undress himself and fold their clothes up in a pile on the floor beside them.
The real Kristoph tore off her clothes and threw them across the room and pulled his pants and underwear a little. Then, he pinned her down, biting at her neck.
The fantasy she'd long entertained remained the same while the reality grew increasingly brutal. The attentive lapping of his tongue on her body was dismissed completely as he went straight for the act of penetration. And he didn't love gently either. In fact, he thrusted furiously, his palms pressed against the wall, her legs pulled up over his shoulders. It was like nothing she'd had with any other lover. She felt like she was being torn in half. Her fantasy was being torn apart as well.
When Kristoph came, he pulled out and pulled his pants back up. Licking at the sweat on the fingers of one hand, he pressed the alarm on the wall with the other. Soon, the guard returned to see a naked Vera, spread eagled and crying desperately. Horrified, he wrapped her in a blanket and called for back-up.

A year later, a broken woman stared out of her apartment window as she nursed a beautiful blonde baby.