Odd title, I know. But you'll begin to see what I mean as the story progresses.
Hello, I've only been making it a point to read this site recently and intend on writing a lot of my own material on it. I'm quite fond of some of the beautiful stories that are seen on here, especially on the female side of things. For now, I'll start light; not on 'first timing' in so far as first time having an orgasm, but my first time figuring out that I could use my hands.
Throughout my life, a good amount of it at that, I considered myself a very sexually orientated individual, despite the fact that my Christian upbringing dictated that I should stray as far away from sexuality as possible. What this meant was that throughout my early teens, despite being quite sexually active with my on-off boyfriend of three years, I masturbated regularly but still felt as though I was doing something wrong. In the midst of this time, I'd only made use of a shower massage or the bath faucet in order to jill properly and achieve an orgasm. Usually what I'd do is start touching my clit a little (not entirely certain of what I was doing, when I was much younger) and then immediately throw myself into the shower.
Another story for another time.
One day while I was working my dull-as-piss stupid-as-fuck tech support job, I was noticing that throughout reading a particular book about two males playing exploratively with one another was getting me incredibly wet. I kept feeling pangs of sensation along my cunt and thighs, and immediately realized that I had to do something about it. Now, given that I hated my job, I already had a ritual of taking books into the bathroom with me and simply sitting there and reading for anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes, just so I could avoid taking a metric ass-ton of soul-wrenching phonecalls that I had to rush in order to make my quota for the day (five calls every hour with full resolution to the problems presented, anyone who works tech support could tell you that this is, for the most part, a pipe dream).
So I assume the position. The bathroom is empty. I should make a point to remark: I was already quite familiar with fooling around with other people in places I shouldn't. Therefore, there was nervousness, but I've always been something of a shameless individual. Once again, more stories on that, but for later!
I open the book to the pages that contain the descriptions of the rather lewd sex acts and reach down between my legs. It's not difficult to feel my clit poking through already; I've been told that I have a larger one, and given the fact that I'm mostly a lesbian, I've had this proven time and time again. Digressions aside, I began to try and see if I could work myself off manually, without the help of any kind of water-based stimulus. I began to flick my forefinger back and forth over the slickened skin of my cleft, circling whorls around my entrance to gather lubrication and immediately returning to my clit in order to bring myself further along. I could feel my face flush the more that I worked; not out of any kind of embarrassment, but I was realizing more and more that the sensations I was bringing myself were going to inevitably throw me over the edge. Each increase in pleasure made me marvel at the fact that I could feel my clit growing harder under my ministrations, its sensitivity increasing triplefold every time there was increased bloodflow to that area. I had no idea that clits could become erect, despite being 19 and fairly knowledgeable in this area, I knew I, personally, would become more sensitive the closer I got, but I didn't quite know why, from what I remember.
Once it hit me, I must say, it was a lot more powerful than anything water-based that I'd done. The simplicity of using my own hand and being so in touch with myself (no pun intended!) was an amazing feeling. Given that I can force myself to be very quiet (yes, yes: another story for another time), it was easy to get off despite the fact that there were people filtering in and out of the bathroom throughout this time. Never mind that my orgasm wracked me utterly, creating shudders that started at my thighs and worked their way up along my abdomen.
Once I was through I could still feel the pangs along my cleft as I whipped myself off. Each step I took back towards my cubicle sent another pleasant rush of energy through my body, and I felt entirely too good about returning to my job. Needless to say, this became a very regular phenomena, and masturbating at my workplace or, in this case, my school, became a steady ritual. I know, this was rather boring for the most part, but trust me: this was light.
Happy jilling girls. Keep up the lovely stories!