I Am Seriously Fucked Up..Lovely, Isn't It?

Now, bear with me. I’ll get to the point, I promise. 

“My body.” “My arm.” “My leg” we use these expressions all the time, but then we also say things like “my house”, “my car”, my garden”. They are statements of ownership. It’s like something  is saying “This is my arm. I possess it’” So just what, I sometimes wonder, is this ‘my’. Do I inhabit this bundle of cells? Am I it’s owner? In which case, what, exactly am I? 

Ok? Now, hold that thought, and picture me on a packed train coming home from London. It had been a really tough day and there wasn’t a seat to be had, so I had wedged myself it to a corner and was just half asleep. Semi dozing. I am superb at this thing called twilight sleep. I love it. You are slightly conscious of what’s happening around you, but at the same time, you’re in this warm, fuzzy state of half sleep. 

When I suddenly became aware of my vagina. I wasn’t feeling especially horny….well….no more than usual…and yet, there it was, front and centre in my mind. This tube…this thing that is capable of gripping a penis tightly, or allowing the passage of a 10lb baby. This self-lubricating, self-cleaning thing. Ribbed, designed for pleasure, and I have one. Lucky me! 

My eyes opened and I gazed around at my fellow travellers men, women, boys, girls. Men with cocks of various sizes and thicknesses no doubt. Some in regular use, some neglected. Some not yet in use for anything other than peeing through. 

Vaginas, then? Pretty much the same story come to think of it. Some tight, some less so. Some widened by the ravages of birth, some virginal and tight, unfucked, unfingered.

And my attention went back to mine. I actually felt it widen. It became….open…and when that happens, it’s wetness increases markedly.

So, I stood in this train, now fully awake, gently wetting my panties. Oh, how I love that! Whether it’s my own lubrication, or my own pee, or a combination of both….to me, and I know this isn’t to every woman’s liking, wet panties are a statement of sexual power.

Various phrases rolled through my mind. Cunt cream. Panty pudding, pussy grease….and many more that I’d heard from other girls at school. My eyes alighted on a girl in the carriage. Still having to wear a school uniform, so what…maybe 15…16? She would be sitting there after a day at school, the panties she put on this morning no longer pristine and clean. Between her legs would be a coating of her vaginal secretions. Immediately, I wondered how she might taste…what her sex life was like. Would it be confined to her own fingers and imagination, or had she maybe branched out into a little girl/girl action? Or perhaps she was an early starter and a lucky boy had already discovered what it was to lie between her legs? 

The flood between mine was gathering pace now. I took a breath and squeezed my internal muscles. I’ve practised this movement and The Lovely Chris describes it as “fucking sensational”, a compliment indeed, since I know firsthand that my sister can do it even better than I can. I actually felt the gush such a movement caused. I also felt the warm wetness spread as my panties fought, probably in vain, to contain the flood. 

The girl turned her head. Isn’t it strange, how we know when someone is staring at us. We exchanged smiles and broke eye contact. She has no idea what is happening between my legs. 

But then my spider sense started tingling. Someone was looking at me. Without making it obvious, or moving my head in the least, I let my eyes flick round. A man. Older…much older. Maybe mid 60s, but don’t take that as gospel. I am not good at pitching ages. Silver-haired though, and age has lined his face at the corners of his eyes. This man smiles a lot.,I feel his eyes roving over my body as an almost physical sensation. Oh, how I wish I could hop into his mind! I try to imagine what he’s thinking.

“She’s attractive!”

She looks like she is a very sexual girl. I’d love to get her into bed. Imagine sliding my cock into a young girl like her. Hooking my hands under her shoulders and pulling myself deeper inside her. I bet she shaves. Hmm, flat chested too…fuck…naked she’d look about 13! Still….maybe she takes it up the arse? Imagine pushing it up her tightest hole. Fuck!” 

I love being the centre of someone’s sexual fantasies. If only he knew what I’m capable of, and enjoy! I would, you know. In fact, having sex with a much older man is on my bucket list….or is it a fuckit list? I’d easily have sex with someone his age….I wouldn’t even mind if he had a daddy/daughter fantasy. 

My clit wakes up and joins the party. She stretches out from her hood, and begins to jump up and down doing her ‘donkey from Shrek’ impersonation. “Oh..Me! Pick me! Pick me!” Don’t worry sweetie, I have a surprise for you on the way home. 

There’s no station in my village. There was, but the Beeching cuts killed the branch line off. The platforms and station buildings still exist but are now private homes. I’d love to live there! 

In town, I walk, squelching quietly to Pete’s. Pete is a jovial guy in his 30s with no area of his body that isn’t tattooed. He also does piercings. Which is why I have just laid down on his table and slowly tugged my panties to my ankles getting a quick look at the devastation in the crotch as I do so. I catch Pete’s eyes as they flick towards the ruined material and he gulps. Back to business. He pulls on a pair of black latex gloves and asks if he can examine my clit. (Please. Knock yourself out….although I’m so aroused now, I may well cum.)

He looks. Then he takes a magnifying glass and bends in close. From this distance he can smell me…no doubt. He asks if he can touch it? Oh, yes! Please! I feel his fingers take my bean between them and there’s some delicious rolling around down there. Jokingly, I say, “Much more of that and you’ll make me cum!” Pete says, “You’d be surprised how often that happens. Especially during the piercing itself.” No, I really wouldn’t. In fact if he doesn’t stop right now, I’ll……fuck…too late. 

I try to disguise it, but he isn’t fooled. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “although it looked like you needed that!” Can’t argue with him. I did. He tells me I’m lucky, anatomically speaking, and I’m suited for any type of clitoral piercing. VHC, a ring, anything I choose. I ask which of them cause the most orgasms. He doesn’t know, but he thinks a ring would do it. Hmmmm. 

I tug my now cold panties up and when I hop off his couch, I feel warm wetness flow from my vagina again. 

Back home, I can’t even wait to get upstairs. I throw myself down onto the couch, jam a hand into my panties and bring myself off to a loud and squirt climax, my brain making a conjoining of everything I’d seen and thought  from the train ride on. The old man screwing the schoolgirl who is, in fact, his granddaughter, me sucking her off his dick before licking her out, and all three of us making each other cum. 

Afterwards, I lay on the couch unable to move, panties round my knees, which is where Dani finds me. She glances at my swollen labia, slick with wetness. She doesn’t look away. I don’t move. Finally she takes a breath. “I can see why someone would want to kiss you there.” She says it thoughtfully….carefully…and….is that desire, or am I merely wishing it. 

I look deeply into her blue eyes. “Dani, any time. Any time you think you’d like to even try. Even if it doesn’t work out. It would be my pleasure. My honour.” 

She stands motionless. In fact, I wonder if she’s even breathing. 

Then, she slowly kneels on the floor and slips my panties down my legs and off. As I feel her breath on my wetness, I close my eyes in anticipation.