Time of the Month Again

Sunday, early, early morning.

I am an early riser. I usually awaken just as Dawn stretches her fingers across the sky and today was no different. Except it was. Today, my monthly visitor arrives. I feel….hmmm how do I feel? Soft. Gentle. Exquisitely feminine. There is a slight tenderness to my boobs, but it’s more that they feel very full and hard, like they do when I am really aroused. 

I stretch in bed. It is as if my skin is hyper sensitive and I feel the thread count of my Egyptian cotton sheet underneath me, and the duvet hove me. My hands reach up and cup my boobs. I take a deep cleansing breath in. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, as I wake, Miss Brain takes me on a tour of inspection. I place my right hand low on my tummy just above my pubic bone. Deep under my hand, my uterus is preparing to bless me with a gift that only girls have. And yes, I do consider it a blessing. My period is part of a cycle preparation that one day, God willing, will lead me to pregnancy’s door. 

But for today, I feel two things. I need a pee, of course, but also I feel soft, unspeakably feminine. Even though I know my period will arrive mid morning, I dip a finger inside myself. At this time of the month, my cervix feels lower than usual. I can feel that little dimple in its centre. I withdraw my finger. It is clean apart from my own clear wetness, although the scent has changed subtly. It is stronger, more earthy. 

My clit awakens at the internal stimulation. Should I? Is it time? Miss Brain informs ms that no, it isn’t. Not yet. 

I get up and go to my bathroom. Sitting on the toilet and peeing, I notice I am sitting differently. Usually I sit on the toilet with my knees wide apart, but not today. Today my knees are clamped together, like some Virgin avoiding any sight, sound or scent of sex. Even as I pee, I feel virginal. I bad myself dry and stand in the shower. 

Big mistake. Even on its gentlest setting the droplets feel like water bombs striking me. I can imagine how I ever got pleasure from aiming that shower head fully onto my clit. I simply couldn’t bear it today. 

My shower is fast, the bare minimum. I dress unusually as well. For a start Miss Brain directs me to a bra. Even though it is little more than a trainer bra it feels comfortable to wear it. Panties next. I have a few pairs that are slightly larger than the ones I normally prefer. There is more material to their sides and they come up a little higher. Before I pull them up, I do something that takes me right back to when I was 13. I put a pad in the crotch before pulling them up tight. Next, I choose, unlike ma again, pants rather than a skirt. 

Mid morning. 

A cramp. A single, solitary cramp that seems to start very low at the from and travel around to my back. I know I have started. Still, I can’t just drop what I’m doing and run upstairs, and anyway, there is no need. So I continue to help our housekeeper prep the veg for lunch. As we chat easily across a wide range of topic, I know I have come on. My heart actually leaps with excitement and pride. I always looked on periods as something special, although I know many girls are cursed with irregular ones and very heavy ones too. Still, for me, they are special. 

Ironically, as soon as I actually start, my clit wakes up and joins the party, as does Miss Brain. She behaves differently though. Instead of flashing me an almost constant stream of erotic images, memories, and possibilities, she seems to wrap arms around me and hold me gently. I even feel like someone is kissing me softly on my neck. Miss Brain morphs these feelings, either into a man or a girl who is holding me from behind, kissing my neck and whispering to me. “I know you’re on. Let me be part of it.” 

It’s time now. I leave the kitchen and walk back to my room. This is about the only time I lock my door. I spread a towel on my bed. Not that I am heavy, I’m not, but if I squirt it will carry some colour with it. I take my pants off, but not my panties. Not yet. My t shirt comes off, but not the trainer bra. 

Once settled on the bed, I take my panties off. There is a little blood on the pad. I spread my legs wide. So wide, it almost hurts my hips. At this time, a girls instinct is to close her legs and keep her period ultra private. I have learned differently. In the animal world, this is called being ‘in season’. The female bleeds a little. It carries her scent to the males who crowd around her. I am proud of my body and what it can do. Look. Look at my vagina. I am at the peak of my femininity.

I have had sex with a man once during my period, but Alison and I do it far more. The man did it for me, but I could tell he was repulsed by the whole idea. Alison and I thoroughly celebrate each other’s time of the month. No, it’s not just sex toys and fingers either. I feel absolutely no shame or disgust in telling you I have gone down on her many, many times, as she has to me. 

I begin to masturbate. I’m not sure yet what Miss Brain will do for me in the way of fantasy. Maybe nothing. Maybe she will just have me relive a memory. What I do know is that there will be know erotic content. No gang bangs. No rape scenarios. No being peed on. So, I just simply wait, gently stimulating my clit. 

The fantasy

Miss Brain sets the scene. Me. Heather. Heather, the girl I really thought might be ‘the one’, but all it turned out to be was a girl who just wanted to experiment with another girl for a short time. Even so, I can’t and won’t say it was a bad experience, nd neither was it a bitter one. 

Heather. Here in my bed. That very first time. We had kissed for ages and slowly, so slowly undressed each other to panties only. Heather was on top of me and I could feel her whole body shaking softly. She was terrified. I remember telling her to do whatever she wanted….that the time would come when we would sit together and talk about what we liked and didn’t like, but for here, for now, I was hers to do whatever she wished. I remembered how slowly she kissed down my body and kept right on going taking my panties with her to my feet. She gently parted my legs, and I felt the first kiss on my vagina. It was the first time she had ever kissed another girl there. Her tongue found my clit and I presume she did to me what gets her off. It was working too. It worked a whole lot better when she slowly slid two fingers inside me and made me cum. 

Then? Well, then I returned the favour. Well, almost. I got to the waistband of her panties and was tugging them down. I had just exposed a little pubic hair when I felt her hands on my head and a whispered “Time of the month”. There must have been some trust there, because when I resumed taking her panties off, she didn’t stop me. Her vulva filled me with such desire. I suppose to some it would look comical. A vagina, ginger pubes, that look they get when they’ve been squished up in jeans and panties all day, and a comical little white string! 

But make no mistake. If a girl allows you to get this close to her during her period, she is giving you something special. I spent ages on her clit doing back to her exactly how she had done me. But then I kissed lower until her tampon string was in my teeth and I slowly tugged it from her, until it fell onto the towel I had spread beneath us. (To catch my squirt). 

As I relived what I did next, which is not something I want to tell you about, I became lost in that moment. My whole crotch felt the orgasm approaching and I made no move to delay it. At the precise second Heather orgasmed into my mouth, I came.

Orgasm when I am on feel so very different. They are immensely powerful, but they don’t feel erotic. Does that make any sense? It will to the women reading this. They seem to not so much explode, but roll outwards from their epicentre between my thighs. They also seem to last longer and are filled to capacity with emotion.

Which is why, even as I was cumming, I felt the tears rolling down my face. I know that for that brief time we were together, I loved Heather and she loved me too. It’s just that a lesbian relationship for life wasn’t why she needed. It’s a shame we never got to talk it over. I too need cock from time to time, and I would have had no problem with her doing the same, but I think Heather is monogamous above anything else. 

I let the last of the orgasm ebb away, and just lay there, holding Heather in the light for a while.

Finally, I rolled over to my nightstand and received a tampon. I do enjoy putting them in. It’s not really sexual…well, maybe a little…but it is uniquely feminine. 

The Now

And so I have four days. Four days of feeling much more emotional than usual. Four days of feeling everything more than usual. Towards the end of day three. More eroticism will start to creep in. One thing though, I feel deeply sexy. By that, I don’t mean I want to be screwed by the village football and rugby and  cricket teams…although there have been days like that. No. This is different. 

For example. I feel like I could go to bed with Alison and simply spend hours in her arms loving her, kissing her holding her without any sexual action at all. Sometimes, I feel like I could almost have an orgasm from that alone. I want her to use my vulnerability….not in an abusive way, but in a way that celebrates it. (Oh dear. I’m not saying this very well am I?). 

I shall undoubtedly masturbate again today…possibly two or three times. Actually, I’d like to masturbate in Alison’s arms while she just holds me. Is that selfish? 

The week after next will be Alison’s journey through her period. When that happens, I will be there for her, whatever she needs or wants me to do. 

I hope you aren’t disgusted by this contribution. I know some find periods utterly gross, but they are an integral,part of being female.