More Early Memories.

I noticed early on that my panties were stained each and every day, in a heavier manner than I was used to. The girls had various names for this from cunt cream (we did so enjoy our vulgarities) to panty-pudding. 

I must admit that while I knew this was due to advancing puberty, my jury was out on this gunk that appeared in the crotch of my undies every day. I mean, what the actual fuck? Then again, I did feel ‘grown up’. 

I had explored it, touched it, smelled it, even tasted it, and even to my laser-like sense of smell it didn’t really have much of a scent at all. In fact, pretty much the only thing I could smell on my panties was that inevitable faint hint of pee. No matter how carefully you wipe, you simply can’t avoid it, it seems. 

But then it changed. One day I had the usual stuff, but the next, it seemed it had become more liquid, whiter and more there was a musky scent to it. And unmistakable musky scent. My hormones were adding that attractant which is prevalent in all sexually available mammals. 

Sexually available? Hardly. Sexually interested….definitely. I knew where everything was down there, and I had begun to see what my clit could do for me. The answer to that was not very much initially. Oh it would make me feel good, but the big ‘O’ was a long way off. Still, from age 13 or so, it was nice to rub myself, especially as I listened to my parents fucking next door. 

So, it came as a real shock the night I started my routine of hand in panties and start masturbating, getting my usual buzz and then, suddenly what-the-actual-fuck? This….this rush like the arrival of that bullet train in Japan….that whoosh…it made me stop instantly and clamp my legs together, convinced I was about to pee the bed. I remember getting up and tentatively putting on the light and pulling the duvet off and being relieved that the bed wasn’t soaked. 

No doubt, that feeling was good!. Equally no doubt it was scary. Hmmmm.

Naturally the next night I tried again..and got the same rush of a feeling. Equally naturally I tried to go further, but my sense of …what…self preservation (?)…stopped me. 

They say third time’s the charm though, and anyway, I was getting fucking annoyed with it! It was a chance conversation I overheard at school between two older girls. It went something like this.

“…..feels amazing when he fucks me, but I kept getting this feeling like I was going to pee myself.” (Cue Anna to stop, put her bag down and fuck around with her shoelaces, then rummage in her bag.)

“I got so fucked off with it that last night, I actually tried to pee and guess what….I came! I thought I’d peed too, but I hadn’t.” 

I walked away in awe that I’d been in the presence of a girl who had ‘done it’, but also armed with information I could use. 

That night, I covered my bed with towels, and waited for the rush to come. When it did, I actually tried to pee and……wham….suddenly I was gasping, and cumming like crazy. I suppose the previous nights count as edging. 

So, confident Anna couldn’t wait for the next night! No towels this time. A really juicy fantasy based in part on the girl I’d heard talking. I’d seen her again at lunchtime, and she was very attractive. It was no problem to imagine her naked, and with her legs spread. I suppose I was thinking partly of her being fucked, and partly of me between her thighs, either way, the orgasm rushed upon me…..and I peed the bed! 

But while it was embarrassing as fuck, I learned something. It feels really nice when something comes out of you. The following afternoon I put my theory to the test by rubbing one out in an old flint barn. I took my panties off and squatted down. On a compacted dirt floor it didn’t matter what happened. I came, and peed and it felt wonderful…..but not as wonderful as my first squirt. They are different. Very, very different. 

I know girls who peed when they came for the first time and gave up for years, being way too scared to try again. I know a few who took it as part of the deal - if it happens, it happens - and one or two who, like me, turned it into something special. 

But I also remember how frightened I was of my own vagina. My hole. I felt….annoyed….frustrated! Here was something that was designed to admit a cock and pass a baby for fucks sake, and yet it was protected by a hymen. God’s sense of humour again! I learned to finger myself very carefully through the hole in my hymen, but all that did was teach me I really wanted something substantial up there when I came. Any girl will tell you it’s different cumming when something’s inside you and you have something to contract around….carrot…banana….candle….cock….two or even three fingers. Doesn’t matter. But that bloody hymen….the fucker. 

Again, snatched overheard conversations at school helped, and yet they didn’t. “….hurt like fuck….never doing that again…” Didn’t hurt at all…” “Bled like crazy” confusing and contradictory. I ended the debate in much the same way I make business decisions. I decided I wanted it gone, and that I wanted to deal with the problem myself. Hence a candle, some baby oil, a sanitary towel and a dollop of courage. 

I guess all girls are different. For me it stung well, like a cunt I suppose, and there was some blood but far less that I’d heard from others. That candle in me did feel good though.  I’d forgotten this, but I left things well alone for about a week I guess, relying on clitoral and anal stimulation. I’d learned that I liked my bum hole touched…tickled, and yes, penetrated too.) 

Then came the night when I was going to literally fuck myself. I’d felt horny all day, and damn near masturbated at school…and on the way home, but resisted the temptation. Oh, how time seemed to crawl past. 7:00pm….7:05…..every time I looked after what felt like an hour, the clock had crept forward three fucking minutes! Eventually though 10:00pm came and as casually as I could, I announced I was going to bed. I think mum suspected something, because she had a cheeky grin and said, “Enjoy your…sleep, hunny.” That little pause! 

In my room I stripped down to my panties, but Miss Brain advised me to keep them on. She gave me a lovely slow seduction fantasy, and when it came to it, she had me pull my panties aside…something I always find incredibly sexy. My right hand on my clit, my left slowly pushing the fat end of the candle inside. The rush of the orgasm and then the way consciousness shattered as gripping that candle with every contraction amplified the cum 1000 fold. I know I cried out and made a lot of noise, and only afterwards worked it out that if I can hear mum and dad, then they can hear me. Ooops! 

Every girl’s journey into becoming sexually active is personal, intense and if you are invited to be part of it, it is a position of supreme trust. 

But then so, I imagine, it is for a guy too.