This is a little tale about a young ladies mornig discovery. Enjoy
Her brain left the grogginess of slumber behind and clicked on into cognitive perception as she slowly roll onto her back, stretching her stiff muscles in her long thin legs in response to a night’s sleep. Without even opening her eyes, she knew that it was still dark by the sound and the smell of early morning. She could sense the darkness in the sanctuary called her bedroom before she could possibly see its nothingness so she didn’t bother to satisfy its pulling urge to peek.
She felt the sensation of the warm sheet around her and felt the pressure of the weight of its partnering blanket as she rolled back on her stomach and placed her hand on her between her legs. She could always count on this position with her hands so placed to cascade her back into a delightful, peaceful sleep but try as she might, the illusive feeling of unconsciousness eluded her. She tossed herself onto her back once more, trying to find that one position that would draw out the slumber that she desired, but in the end, she knew that it was a lost cause.
Her mind started to wander back to her earlier years, before her body decided to express itself into womanhood, back to the time when all she could ever do or hope for was playing and having fun. There were no responsibilities of grooming or hygiene or peer pressure that caused you to apply paint to your face or nails. There wasn’t an inane urge to impress as many members of the opposite sex as you could with all your feminine guiles and charms or other assets that you may or may not be blessed with. And if you were one of the unfortunate ones who did not yet have those assets, there was always man made substitutions.
She remembered the first time that she really took notice of her body and the changes it was about to embark upon. It was when it was mandatory for girls to humiliate themselves and attend PE, back in the seventh grade way back in ancient history. One day, as she walked towards the showers, taking care to cover herself with an oversized towel that her mother provided as a bribe to get her to attend the silly exercise in futility, she so happened to walk next to Susan, the early blossoming bombshell that strutted around naked as a “jay bird”. Seeing her well developed body including all of the mandatory pubic hair extending from between her legs and the fatty tissue that made her chest look like Susan would soon fall flat on her face, she felt a small twinge of jealousy and wanted some of what Susan had.
From that day forward, she seemed obsessed with her body and its lack of shape and development. It seemed like years and years before she could boast a fraction of the pubic hair that sprouted between her legs that she had seen that day in the shower and she just knew that life was unfair. And even to this day, the massive mammary glands that she had always hoped for did not emerge from her chest. What she was left with were two, rather puny little breasts that barely needed any support.
But as she had a itch on her nose to scratch, that early morning that had to be dealt with, she happened to brush one of those small little mounds and got the an urge to scratch that area again. It seemed funny to her that went ever you have an itch on one part of your body and you satisfy it with your fingers, it always shows up somewhere else. This was the case in point, although it wasn’t necessarily an itch that needed scratching, it was an urge to touch the area in question so she automatically tried to satisfy that urge.
Her hand was the weapon of choice sense she could easily judge the necessary pressure to apply so she moved her hand up and gently felt her mound of flesh and instantly realized that this was not the first time she had had this urge. Just like all the rest, it reminded her of an impending avalanche of emotions that could be release at any moment depending on the strength of the urge.
As she tenderly rubbed the spot of all of the desire, she started to prove her hypothesis of a roaming itch or urge, by the feeling that suddenly manifested itself deep down between her legs. She instantly knew that this urge had potential.
Her hand brushed over her teat as she tenderly started flexing her fingers on the flesh of her mound. Her hand was still on the outside of her thin flannel pajama top but it was as if she was touching her flesh directly on her sensitive place. Her fingers seemed to glide effortlessly over the bulky fabric but it got hung up and seemed to bunch it up on the very place that she wished to rub. But the feeling was so intense and it felt so good that she just couldn’t take her hand away.
The itch became stronger in her groin as she broke her outstretched leg at the knee and drew it up on the sheet that she was lying on, she received a new and thrilling sensation. Her pajama bottoms were made from the same fabric as the top but were just of a different color and the cut was loose by design so they bagged a great deal at the crotch. But when she drew up her leg, they bound up and put undo pressure directly on her itch so that all of her otherwise unwarranted movement, served her in the most delightful ways.
Her unoccupied hand found the bottom of her bulky pajama top and inserted itself down on her bare stomach, sending a slow tremor through her abdominal muscles. It was surprising when you stimulate yourself because part of the thrill of the stimulation is the unknown. But when you known where your hand is going to go before you move it, then you defeat the surprise. That seemed to be contradicted by the fact that when she touched her tummy, the tremor really did materialize down into her crotch.
Now her hand ranged up under the top and started its slow ascent up to replace the other in its rubbing and touching but this time it would not bunch up the fabric. Instead, it would gracefully and smoothly fondle her bare little mounds as they begged for their own individual attention. She felt the tightness of the sentinel stationed upon the top of each in a pointing and attention sort of way and she stopped at each to provide it with special stimulation.
As her thumb and forefinger closed on the wrinkly little areola it shrived up into a small tiny pebble with a top hat on its head to stick right out and say that it was special. It was getting the attention that it had demanded from the beginning and as it responded, she had the urge to vocalize its pleasure by opening her mouth and letting a small soft moan escape her lips. She moved her chin down her shoulder as she tried to touch to her skin but when that failed, she let it rise into the morning sky as she raised her chest up just a fraction.
Her two breasts were in conflict with each other in their demands for attention and she didn’t know how to or possibly couldn’t handle their insistent urgent cravings with her one hand. The answer was obvious so she hurried brought the top up with the other hand and started to satisfy their yearnings. Now she had both of her fists full of her fleshy breasts; squeezing, touching, manipulating them at will. They wouldn’t be satisfied at all but the other urge was demanding that it get its due
Pinching and stretching them away from their proper placement of prominence at the top of each mammary, her nipples got their joint attention for now as she released her grip on her hands and fingers to stray down to the more urgent urge; the one that had been begging to be dealt with for a long, long time. But first she had to remove this shroud of a top that she wore to hide her tender breasts so as she slid it off of her body, she allowed the softness of her sheets to caress the softness of her bare top.
Her knee was still drawn up and placed at right angles to her other one leaving her itch all ready to be scratched. She deliberately and slowly moved one hand deep between her legs and placed it right over the place the urge was emanating from and gently started to rub it.
The place was the flat little spot right at the junction of her legs; the spot that Mommy told you never to touch. It was the spot were babies come from and was not to be discussed in mixed company under any circumstances and definitely not where a boy should ever touch a true lady. It was the spot that started wars and ended relationships. It was a special place; a place that was the savior and ruin of all mankind. It was the Holy Grail of places. It was her vagina and deep down inside of your body, it gave off an uncontrollable urge that superseded all other urges.
It was a hideous urge, one that had to be satisfied at all costs and yet it emanated from what some thought throughout civilization to be unclean and nasty yet why does it demand so much attention. What is it about this particular urge that demands to be placed first in line when it comes to satisfaction? She did not the answers to these or any other questions. All she wanted to do was to meet her obligation and to satisfy, to the best of her abilities, this marvelous, demanding itch.
Her fingers were probing into her orifice of contentment where nothing other than her finger and a few years worth of sanitary items had ever been allowed to enter. She dreamed of the day when a more substantial probe would be allow to enter this orifice and breakthrough all of the myths and mysteries of copulation but for now anyway, her finger would have to do. It seemed so small and insignificant to place her measly little finger into an opening that was capable of allowing an object of far greater size to enter. But her social dorms did not allow it to happen so there was nothing that she could do about it except to apply the only thing that she had left to herself and that was her small middle finger.
She made good use of it as she stretched out the fabric of her pajama bottoms with it constant rubbing and probing of her own little pleasure zone. The harder she pressed the more that it demanded and the greater the urge became. She found herself in a peculiar situation, one that ranged on being a true paradox. If you have a spot that has an uncontrollable itch and you scratch it and it itches even more and you scratch it even harder so the harder you scratch it the more it itches and so on, how do you extricate yourself from this dilemma?
She knew the answer to that question already and all she had to do was to bring it out in all its fullness; she had to bring herself to an orgasm. She knew naturally what to do to herself to bring on the desired consequences but it sometimes didn’t work out like it was suppose to so she had to play herself like a nice ripe violin and play it slowly and sweetly until the piece ends.
She was probing with her finger into her most sacred hills and valleys, dragging her finger through her two tight little petals and pushing the fabric of her pajama bottoms up into her channel. It started to accumulate the moisture that was secrete out of her vagina and she knew that she would have to launder them sometime today before her mother did on Monday. But she continued to press and drag them through her tiny slit, over and over again, build on the urge, building herself into an orgasmic frenzy. But not yet, she had much more work to do yet.
Part of that work was to place her hand inside of her pajamas and to feel her wet junction directly with her finger so she moved it up to the draw string and gently gave it a tug. Breaking the knot and loosing it up around her middle, she managed to thrust her hand down under her bottoms to be rewarded by the fuzzy feeling of the fine soft touch of her delicate patch of pubic hair. She stopped at the beginning of the hair to run her fingers through the kicky little strands of fuzz that covered her most treasured place. She did not think that it was quite thick enough nor dark enough to stand out against her pale white skin but was satisfied that it finally came in at all.
She began to explore her channel from the top to the bottom by sliding her middle digit down between her two lips, touching briefly her pleasure button and extending her reach down to her orifice deep between her legs. She paused for a brief moment to draw out the pleasurable moment of insertion as long as possible and then she slid it into herself just as far as she could reach. It felt amazing as her hand restricted its further penetration and she had to be content with its depth. She caused no pain because she had inserted it this far on many occasions but she would never get over the thrill of having the feeling of something entering her vagina even if it was just her own finger.
She began to wiggle it around, trying to stretch out the walls of her vagina. She had heard somewhere that will make it easier for when the time comes for the real thing to go up there. She didn’t know if this was true or not but it sure felt good so she would continue with the practice. She drew it partly out and the plunged it back in as far as it would go. On one of the stretch routines, she accidently pushed her finger upward and it hit something rough feeling. It struck her like a jolt from an electrical outlet, it felt so good. What was it that she had discovered up her vaginal canal? Whatever it was, she would have to purposely touch it again.
She instinctively moved her other leg out at the hip and drew it up at the knee, spreading her legs apart completely as she opened up her wanting crotch to her eager hand probe. Her other hand was busily comforting her breasts once again as her breaths became labored with the building of her urges. She was moving her hips involuntarily as she continued to saw her finger into and out of her opening. Her head was starting to turn from one side to the other and she was starting to build up her sexual momentum.
She knew that she had to stimulate her little pleasure button in order to reach her intended goal so she reluctantly moved her other hand from her breasts down to join her other one inside of her pajamas as she tried to coax her hooded nubbin out to play. She found her legs spread wide apart and eager to find her target hidden in between her puffy little lips and as she entered them, she stuck out two fingers to massage the little source of so much pleasure. Finding it right where it should be found, she started to manipulate the skin around it and gradually it stuck its beautiful head right out to see what all the fuss was about.
She pushed the waistband of her pajamas down in front to allow both hands easy access to her crotch and her opening and with her right hand pumping into her vagina and her left rubbing her clitoris she was getting very excited. Her hips were starting to rock back and forth in time with her finger thrust and her fingers on her clitoris were also matching the rhythm of the rocking. She was feeling the build as she continued to stimulate her senses and her body because she knew that this time she was going to explode in a wild eruption.
She withdrew her hands from their assigned duties just long enough to grab her pajamas and tear them over her hips and down her legs. She ended up kicking he feet free of them and then she spread out her legs once again, drew up her knees and plunged both hands back down to play with herself in the most beautiful way. Her right hand went back to her vagina as she plunged a finger into her opening. She began to quickly saw it in and out rapidly, trying once again to build up her momentum and stimulate it into an orgasmic state. In the mean time, her left hand had found her hooded node waiting patiently to receive the attention that it demanded to bring on the wonderful clitoral orgasm. Either way, she was building to a wonderful experience and she could hardly wait until it came.
Her chin was raised and her heels were dug into the mattress as she built and built into the overwhelming sensation that was immanent. She frantically sawed with her inserted finger and rubbed her clitoris wildly as she drew out and begged her orgasm to come. She was holding her breath in an attempt to force it out of her vagina along with a flood of juices that was built up in there. The harder she strained, the closer it came until she could take it no longer and suddenly exploded in an eruption that would surely wake the dead. She could not scream out her release for fear of waking her parents so she buried her face into the pillow that was lying next to her head to muffle her cries of joy.
Over and over the orgasm racked her young tender body and over and over she silently cried out her pleasure. It shook her body for minutes that seemed like hours as she clamped her legs together, entrapping both of her hands between them. She jerked and convulsed her way into oblivion as she tried to recover from her mammoth experience; one of the most powerful orgasm of her young life, and then she rolled over with her two hands still lodged between her legs and laid there on her stomach.
She still shock occasionally but she had her hands down between her legs so she felt the sense of sleepiness overtake her, so she pulled up her covers with one hand, replaced it back between her legs and went right to sleep. It was still dark out she noted, as she drifted away into unconsciousness.