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As once I was. (How I came to be who I now am?)

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: Flightcrew737 Posted on: 14 Oct 2006 1 comments
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(Sorry guys. Two postings in one day. But you know how it is sometimes)Can you imagine me as once I was? Can you see, in your mind, the day the girl became a woman? I suppose I was all pigtails and crushes at one stage. But the day, ah yes, the day. Not the day of my first period, no, certainly not that. Not even the day I lost my virginity. No, not even that. The day I mean is the day I knew how my body could attract, inflame, incense, even. Not that I see myself as some sort of siren. I never had much of an opinion about myself before I came to WL. No, this day was when I was 13, just turned 13, in fact. The day after my birthday, I felt there was something special in being a teenager, and in particular, a teenage girl. I'd heard stories of how men lusted after teenage girls, and now, I was one. Not that I had much to show for it. Very small breasted at the time, and very small breasted was how I remained. No, this day perhaps for the first time, I was aware of my sex. Aware of how secret it was, tucked away between my legs. Aware of how often my mother had warned me to sit properly and not let people see up my skirt. As I sat in class that day, I was aware of my vagina, my pussy, my cunt. I remember the immediacy of thinking that such a special, hidden away thing was, in fact barely hidden at all. A skirt that could easilly ride up, and the thin cotton of my knickers. As I sat there, I let my knees fall open until I was aware of the soft breeze from the window caressing my inner thighs. I sat there luxuriating in the knowledge that my pussy was hidden behind the thinnest of veils. It was at that precise moment, that I saw him look. The teacher. He was sitting at his desk almost falling asleep to the droning studious buzz of 15 girls in the room. But now, he had raised his eyes. I saw him looking, and for the first time, I knew that he was looking between my legs. I held my breath, hardly daring to move at all incase he looked away. You see, I liked it! I liked the fact that I had something this man wanted to see. I began to imagein how he was feeling. Was he horny? Was the sight of my crotch making him hard? Would he go to the toilet after the lesson ended and wank? Would he go home and fuck his wife resolutely, thinking of me?Barely perceptibly, I opened my legs still wider. I actually felt my knickers start to move. I knew they had slipped and that one of my pussy lips was showing. Now, I felt almost dizzy. He was still looking and was bright red now. I knew the moment couldn't last, and to my sadness, he looked back at the books on his desk. I saw him shift in his chair and I smiled to myself knowing that he was not capable of standing up to address the class at THIS particular moment. When the bell rang he dismissed us from his chair. We shuffled out but then, oh but then, he called me back. "Chrissy, I would like a word." I waited until the last girl had left and walked back to his desk. He was plainly uncomfortable and blustered a lot to begin with. Finally, he got his thoughts together and said. "Chrissy, you know, you aren't a little girl any more." (Finally, recognition from another.) You should show more decorum when you sit." (Ah, decorum. A nice way of saying I could see your cunt, dear) I said I didnt understand and then to my delight he said. "I could see up your skirt today." Then there was an awkward pause. Neither of us seemed able to say what we were thinking. Eventually, I broke the silence with "Did you like what you saw?" He said that that wasnt the point, (A clear admission that he DID). It was at that precise moment that I knew, and, I think, that HE knew that he would be the one. He would be my first. It was three months later, in the run up to end of year exams that it happened. I was doing badly in maths, as I always did. He offered me extra coaching and with it, my grades rose. The particular afternoon, it was unspoken, but as clear as daylight. I wanted him. He wanted me. We worked and then I went to his stockroom to replace the books I was using. He was behind me and I felt his arms around my waist. I lent back against him and discovered the most enormous hard-on. I lay myself down on the floor and opened my legs. It was not he who tugged my knickers to one side. It was not he who undid my blouse so my pubescent breasts were free. It was not him who guided his prick to the entrance. I wanted him. I would not be denied.And so it was that, after the moment of pain, after the cathedral of my sex and bestowed the perfect benediction of my hymen that he made love to me. At the precious moment, it was not he who forced him to remain inside until the last penetential weeping of his cock had ceased. I held him to me until I felt it go limp inside me. Then, ah yes, then we looked at each other in the eye for perhaps the first time. He knew, and I knew,that this would be the once. I knew he was firghtened, he knew I was not. I kissed him then, and in that kiss told him that all would be well. I couldnt find the words then, but now, I would thank him for guiding me along the path. For sowing that first seed, (literally?) inside me that would grow and blossom into the sexual woman I now am.He made it come to pass. I wanted him to lead me along the next step on the road.