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Frottage

I think my entire life has been devoted to frottage, the art of getting off by rubbing against things.

As I related in an earlier story, the first time I became aware of this practice it was at a friend's house when I caught a glimpse of my friend's sister, humping the corner of her mattress with her dress flipped up over her pantied tush. Watching her thrust and rub her mound against the mattress seam left my panties incredibly and instantly soaked and I've been rubbing myself to orgasms ever since, in public and private.

The first time I realized boys liked to do the same thing was about six months later when a bunch of us were playing tickle games in the woods near my home. This one boy, Johnny, we were about 14 at the time, caught up to me and tackled me to the ground, straddling my hips as I lay face down in the leaves and I could feel something firm poking between my ass cheeks, and it felt good.

As he kept kept tickling me, my stiff clitoris was being pushed and rubbed inside my panties against the ground. When his movements began to slow and become more rhythmic in nature, I felt his erect penis inside his tented pants sliding up and down in my ass crack. I kept my legs tightly squeezed together, concentrating all the pressure and feelings on my clitoris as I continued to feel it forced against my soft and now sopping wet cotton panties.

As my orgasm began, I tightened and loosened my anus and butt cheeks with the rapid-fire contractions which was apparently enough to make Johnny stiffen and grunt before sighing and collapsing as I felt the wetness of his semen, soak through his pants and mine.

I have masturbated to thousands of climaxes of that memory.

Later, I'll come back and talk about being rubbed against by men and women on public transportation, a habit I got into in high school.


Posted on: 2004-07-19 00:00:00 | Author: