Domestic Bliss

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It was some years ago, when I first found that a certain spot between my legs felt good. I grew up in a really rural area in the 1960s, but my daddy was fairly wealthy for our area, and so we were one of the first people in town to have an electric washer and dryer.



The washer and dryer were in the pantry, next to a large sink we used. One day, I had to get something off a shelf over the washer (I think some rock salt), so I stretched my body up and leaned onto the running washer. The smooth corner pressed into my privates through the dress and undergarments I was wearing. The washer was not balanced very well, and so it shook a lot. Well, I don't have to tell you, that felt a little funny. I kept jumping up and sliding down to get the salt, and that felt even better.



I kind of forgot about that for a few years, until one day, I was leaning over the washer in boredom, waiting for the spin cycle to finish. The vibrations made my emerging breasts feel a little funny, and then I remembered reaching for the salt. I was taller now, but I cautiously leaned against the corner. My heart raced and I felt very good, but I felt I could only go so far before it just got sore.



I knew nothing about masturbation back then. They didn't tell us girls nothing except how to raise a family. I knew that my privates were somehow 'dirty,' but I don't blame my mom for telling me to keep that area clean and not to touch it or I would get sick.



From time to time, I'd go back to the washer.



I got my first swimsuit, it was a one-piece with yellow flowers on it. I wore that stupid thing all summer with a pair of shorts and a large hat. It felt cooler, I said. One night, when it was hot as hell, I went down to the pantry again because it was cooler down there. I leaned against the washing machine and rubbed that spot I liked so much.



I started thinking about some of the boys in school, and I got feeling hornier and hornier. Without knowing what I was doing, I was grinding myself against the edge of the washing machine, even though it wasn't on. It had a nice, smooth edge to it.



A few weeks later, I did the same thing when it was running. My swimsuit was wet from playing with the hosepipe, and so that whole area was better lubricated. When I leaned against it, and thought about boys again, my butt cheeks clenched and suddenly I had this amazing pulsing sensation.



I had no idea what happened. I tried to make it happen again, but I was sore. The next day, I tried again, and had another orgasm. I soon learned that this 'funny tickling' could be done up to three times a day. But shortly afterwards, I discovered my fingers were even better.



When I went to college, I learned what had happened to me. I was very embarrassed for a while, but got over it. In 1987, after my father had a heart attack, the house went up for sale, and I was one of the kids that had to stay there and sell it.



Late one night, I saw the washing machine. It had been moved and replaced by a newer one, but for old time's sake, I ground against it. It really wasn't the same.



But I have fond memories.

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