Posted by: Author: Age: 27 Posted on: 0 comments
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The first time I jilled brought about the most intense feeling I had ever experienced.

I felt like a real adult: my parents gave me new responsibilities like checking the mail every day and doing more chores around the house. Although most sixth graders would begrudge the thought, I embraced the new steps forward. Every day after my March birthday I woke up thinking, 'I AM A WOMAN!' However, it wasn't until my first orgasm on a lazy Sunday afternoon that I accessed feelings deeper than those of childhood. I'd stumbled on a couple porn sites before, but none could have prepared me for my first time.

It was the weekend after my first period that I felt a strange urge. By then, I had been wearing a sports bra for a whole year and my breasts had grown quickly, although I thought of them as little more than two fleshy orbs of distraction and discomfort. But that day, for no clear reason, I began exploring my body: first rubbing my breasts and then sticking my fingers in all of the crevices I discovered under my clothes on the way down. When I got to the curly mass of dark hair that covers my labia, I felt even more adventurous; I decided to explore the untouched, mysterious area behind the jungle. I shifted the comforter to cover my legs (lest my parents catch me plying at this illicit task). I felt nothing when I first touched my clit, nor did I feel anything when my finger found its way down to the vaginal entrance. I remember thinking, 'Hmph, that's interesting' and getting out of bed to catch a 'Cosby Show ' rerun on the big TV in the family room.

Strangely enough, it was during that show that I had my first experience. Usually, I would place a pillow between my thighs to keep them from getting sweaty and hot when I layed down on the couch. As I squirmed and shifted to find just the right position on the couch, the edge of the pillow mashed against my clit. A disabling feeling shot up my leg and right to my brain. While, on TV, Rudy was busy figuring out what to do with her tacky, expensive sweater, I was busy rotating my hips and trying to get that same sensation. I plowed the pillow against my clit until I felt something build up. I lost control of the movement of my hips and kept humping the pillow until a warm, overpowering sensation gripped my pussy and wouldn't let go until my arms were sore from flattening the pillow.

Since then, I have jilled hundreds of times, and, on any given Sunday afternoon, I'll ride a pillow for old times' sake.



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