A Memory Stirs.

When I was 13, we had a dog called Sally. Unexpectedly, Sally got fatter and fatter and one night presented us with a little of eight gorgeous puppies. Everyone we knew wanted to come and see them, but one event stands out. Thinking about it, I believe it was the very first time I exercised the power of my body consciously and with intent. 

Everyone knows 13 year old girls can be a bit gawky…that stage before they realise they are adults, but after the stage where they are children. We sit innocently, as in if we are in an armchair, we might not have our knees together, but hey…no-one’s interested, right? 

So, the family from the next estate down came to see the pups. Mum, dad and two teenage girls both twins and 18 years old. All four of them were on the den floor around Sally who seemed very proud to show off her brood. The dad looked up….right up my skirt. I remember seeing his eyes and knowing…knowing he was looking at my panties. I remember Miss Brain tapping me on the shoulder and….hey, wait….you know, I think it’s more important than that…..I think this was the very first time Miss Brain told me to do something overtly sexual. Anyway…I opened my knees further…..far enough to feel my panties pull tight against my crotch…and I knew I was wet….and  I knew that the man next door could see my wet spot. He looked up several times. 

When they left, I absolutely flew to my bedroom and played with myself. A man! A real, live man had seen between my legs! And he’d come back for more!  

Strange how little bubbles of memories surface after so much time, isn’t it? 

As I’ve told you, during our teenage years, Alison became, if not reclusive, then certainly very private. You would never find her showing herself off, not even around the home. Where I went topless and even naked round the pool, Ali was only ever to be seen in her one-piece or, rarely a bikini, but here again, a memory and a realisation stirs. Ali would spend a long time in the pool at the edge and would sometimes talk to me for a while before seeming to lose interest and swim away. I’ve just realised that where she used to talk to me was where one of the more powerful jets were. Damn! I hadn’t realised, but she did show all the signs of sexual activity…blotchy chest and neck…faltering breath, and also only one arm on the poolside. The other? Holding her swimsuit aside would be my guess. 

Unlike sisters normally, we didn’t discuss periods or boys (or girls). Ali kept herself to herself right up to that time when she masturbated with me in the lounge during lockdown watching that crappy movie. Afterwards was very different, and the more intimate we got the more she opened up about her sexual feelings and fantasies. There is no doubt that Ali is way more adventurous than I am. She has done things that, so far at least, I haven’t, and she has explored sexual acts that hold no interest for me. 

“Way before we….did…anything, I would masturbate thinking about you,” she said one afternoon. “I envied how comfortable you were in your body and with your sexuality. Watching you masturbate in the orchard, or by the pool was such a blast!  That day…in the lounge…did you notice how much the girl in the movie looked like you?” Well, no, not at the time, but now…hmmmm! “I couldn’t not Jill myself off, and when the thought popped into my head that I’d be doing it with you in the room, I just wish I had been brave enough to make.a move on you then.” (Me too!) 

Incestuous sex is different…there’s no doubt about that at all. It seems to happen almost accidentally. Those I know who have had some kind of sexual activity ‘in the family’ tell me that it just felt like right time, right place. Take Jeremy and Christina, for example. Brother and sister. Up to the moment…the very second this happened, there hadn’t been the slightest suggestion that something might occur. “We were by the pool on loungers. We weren’t even talking. But suddenly, our hands touched. Then Christina took my hand and out it between her legs…just like that. We didn’t fuck….not then, anyway, but we did bring one another off. It was beautiful in its innocence.” (Interesting choice of words there.) 

Or Maisie and Helen, two sisters. “Oh, you know what it’s like….talking late into the night, giggling…being told to keep the bloody noise down….trying to suppress it before bursting out giggling inches from one another’s faces and then we were kissing, just like that. Next thing, we were feeling each other up and fingering each other. Before I knew it I had gone down on her and she was cumming in my mouth before returning the favour to me." 

But sometimes I’ve heard of ‘contactless' incest too. (Wow…sounds like a bank card!) When puberty comes a-calling, people’s sex drive kicks into gear, and some find the engine being revved harder than others. I also believe that if you live in close proximity to others - say on a housing estate - this type of thing doesn’t happen that much, but if they live miles from anyone else, like the homes where I live, things happen,  as Robert told me: ”When I was 15….oh fuck, Anna, watching paint dry was horny! Everything was horny! Running my hand down a polished oak bannister was horny…..looking at the bulbous legs of the snooker table was horny…well…you get the idea. Anyway….I…..(deep breath) I used to wank over my sister. Her’s was the only young female body in proximity to me, and…well…I was thinking about her one night and got wood. The next thing I knew I was wondering what she’d look like naked and I was wanking. One of the boys at school had talked about panty-sniffing and, again, she was the only girl I had access to, so I started sneaking her panties. I remember that first time….I don’t know what I was expecting, but ohhh that scent. I don’t think I had connected it exactly that it was my sister’s vagina, but maybe I had. Maybe that’s what made it all the more dirty.”

I think we are creatures of opportunity. We look around us and especially during times of emotional and hormonal upheaval, find what we need wherever it’s available. Take some friends of mine, Simone and Alicia. If ever two sisters hated one another from birth it was these two. Their mutual loathing commenced as soon as they were aware of one another and continues to this day….with one exception. Their mother died suddenly and unexpectedly from an aortic aneurism. Tig tells me this is where the layers of your aorta separate and form a big balloon full of high-pressure blood. If that balloon bursts “…sure it’s game over in seconds.” So, one moment their mum was standing in the kitchen yelling at them for some infraction or other and the next she was dead on the floor….awful thing to happen. But, and I learned this from both sister’s separately from one another, that night, and for exactly two weeks thereafter, they had frenzied sex together every single night….but….even when they were doing it, their loathing of one another was still there, and still vocal. “Just look how wet you get! No man will ever want to stick his cock in that mess,” or, “Go on, then…cum like the whore you are….God, you disgust me.”  After that fortnight, they went right back to loathing one another. Weird. 

I love the power my body radiates….I love the power all girls’ bodies radiates. The way we are designed to attract….but also the way nature has built into us the need to check one another out too…maybe not with sexual intent, but we do check one another out…be in no doubt. It might be as superficial as, “Huh…my tits are bigger than hers,” or, “That dress really doesn’t work…what was she thinking?” But there is an evaluation. 

I also think that women, being naturally more touchy-feely than men are, are more prone to homosexual experiences. A hug that lasts longer than propriety demands may become something more. A kiss….a massage……and speaking of massages, here’s something that happened to me yesterday. 

I went for a massage. At the time, I didn’t know who I’d get….it could have been a 250lb wrestler for all I knew, but it turned out to be a young girl around 20. She was slim and utterly gorgeous, and yes, I could have bedded her on her own massage table. As she worked, and she certainly knew her trade, she talked, and as she got to know me, so she began to open up more and more. Does she like this job? Most of the time, yes, but some clients are grossly overweight and they don’t shower first. They believe a massage once a week will reduce a lifetime of overeating. Do male clients misbehave? Sometimes they get erections. (Not surprised) and sometimes they might ask for a ‘happy ending’. Does she ever do them? Not often. The company would fire her instantly, and you never know who is on the table. Does she ever get turned on massaging people? “Oh yes. If the girl (girl?) is my type…yes.” She leans in close to my ear: “I shouldn’t tell you this, but sometimes I don’t wear panties under my white coat, and sometimes, I masturbate between clients.” Has she ever given a woman a 'happy ending’? I feel her fingers stop dead in their tracks. “Er…no….I haven’t…the opportunity has never….I mean…. I …how would I know?” I giggle and tell her to look for the obvious signs of arousal…the erect nipples, the sex flush, the erect clit, and vaginal wetness. “And if I find them?” Well, then you have to test the waters, go near her clit…very near it, but not actually touching it…note her response. If she tries to move away, then stop…if she tries to get you to touch her then….

I’m on my back now trying to resist the temptation to slip my hand up that clinical white coat and between her legs. I’ve bet myself that she’s not wearing panties. I just know she isn’t. I also suspect she’d love me to slip two fingers up her. No…be good now Anna. She massages my upper thighs and I catch my breath as she compresses my clit between my labia. Then she raises my right knee, keeping its foot on the table and pulls my leg outwards. My knee is between her tiny boobs now, and she bids me do the same with my left leg. 

I oblige her, and I feel….actually feel her gaze on my vulva. It feels like two laser beams and I also feel something else. I feel a drop of girl cum ooze from my hole and role down my perineum. She looks up and into my eyes. I can’t respond. She knows. She looks back and I try to squeeze internally without giving birth to the dreaded cunt fart. I manage it. Another, much larger tear drop of cunt cream oozes out and runs down over my bum hole. Well…if that doesn’t give her the message, then nothing will. 

Is it minutes or hours later when I feel two delicate, slim fingers slip inside me? I feel up her white coat with my right hand. Seconds later, I feel her part her legs to allow me access……my fingers slide inside her. Mmmm…..she’s tight. This girl hasn’t seen much action from either gender yet. Wow…her clit is very big….I wonder……I stroke a finger over her bum hole. She gasps….so I do it again, and I leave it there and press slightly. She presses back…not hard, just enough to confirm to me that she likes bum play. 

She leans forward on her way to licking my clit and I get a glimpse of her boobs under her white coat. Small…smaller even that mine, her nipples tapering away to next to nothing. Her tongue touches me and I almost cum. There’s a….a hesitancy? An uncertainty? I don’t know…something…..ohhhh now I know. She’s never actually gone down on another girl before. What an honour! I spread my thighs to allow her full access. Moments later, I’ve cum. 

I invite her to sit on my face. She has to pull her white coat up to her waist for this, but that makes her look sexier still. I’m guessing no-one has done this to her before either. At least, not another girl. I suck, lick, probe and lap before pushing a finger deep up her bum….and I mean deep. “Ooh fuck….my boyfriend won’t do that for me.” Oh really? Just as well I’m not him, then, isn’t it? My finger is as deep as I can get it, my tongue, my very long tongue is buried up her cunt and my top lip flutters over her clit. Her orgasm and the deluge that accompanies it floods my face. I do so love it when I make a girl completely lose it. 

She lies on top of me for a few moments, telling me I’m her first girl….that she’s masturbated countless times thinking about a girl doing it with her, and now one has. By the time we leave the room, she is back to 100% professional. You’d never know looking at her that just five minutes ago she’d cum so hard she’d peed over my face. 

The only thing left in the room is the scent of the essential oils, the aromatic candles, and the faint scent of girl-cum.