Hi, my name Stacy and I never understood what my girlfriends raved about.
After college I was offered a job as an administrator at a religious all-girls' school. Of course, I had to keep my sex life discreet. To be honest, the school may have been religious, but I wasn't. I only went to church when the school had some mandatory event.
The school was in a suburb of a major city, and when I had a date; especially an overnight date, I insisted we go to the city where the chances of being recognized were slim.
These dates were just as disappointing as they'd been with those college boys. There were no fireworks, and I still didn't see the big deal.
One Friday night, home alone, I was searching for a movie and came across one that seemed interesting. I was shocked when it appeared that in bed, under the covers, the female lead seemed to be masturbating.
To be honest, this wasn't something I ever did. As a child my mother always cautioned me about touching myself. As an adult, until now it wasn't something I ever thought about.
I wasn't naïve; I knew this was an actress, but the sounds she made, the expressions on her face were nothing like what I experienced when I was getting fucked.
I finished watching the movie and went to bed. I thought about the scene over and over again, but it wasn't until morning that I more than thought about it.
Unless I was with a guy, I always wore a long nightgown and panties to bed.
That morning after using the bathroom, I took off the nightgown and my panties, and went back to bed. Under the covers, I let my fingers wander. First to my breasts until my nipples were hard. My fingers played with both nipples: squeezing and massaging them between my thumbs and forefingers.
I daydreamed of a man making love to me; making love to me in a way none of my lovers ever had. Almost aloud I whispered, "do my pussy, please do my pussy."
My right hand slid down my belly. Slowly, I played with my pubic hair. I'm blonde; my pubic hair is fine and light brown.
In the locker rooms in high school and college, I'd peeked at the other girls. Some had a massive bush; others were like me and others didn't have any hair at all. In high school, I thought they hadn't gone through puberty yet. In college, I learned that some girls shaved it all off.
I also looked at other girls' breasts. I thought of my mine as like Goldilocks: not too small, not too big; just right.
Call me stupid or whatever, but I didn't know how. I mean guys had fingered me; it wasn't all that great. None had done my clitoris. Maybe it was them.
I knew about my clitoris, but I wasn't sure exactly where it was. I slowly slid my index finger inside; one knuckle at a time until it was all the way in.
I guess playing with my nipples made my pussy wet. My finger went in easily. It wasn't uncomfortable, and it was better than what those boys did with their finger.
Then I started moving my finger: first just wiggling it, and then in and out; finger fucking myself. It didn't really do anything for me, but I must have kept it up for twenty minutes; maybe a half hour. I mean I wasn't making noises like that actress.
I stopped and took a shower. I'd planned to go shopping today.
I did the usual things in the shower, washed my hair, etc. I always used a washcloth. I did today, but when I got to my pussy, I hung the washcloth up and used my soapy hand; really just one finger like before.
With the other hand I was feeling up my soapy tits. It didn't feel any better than when I was in bed, but I continued and then continued some more. I only stopped because I ran out of hot water.
I did go shopping; I wasn't looking for anything but ended up buying a sexy bright red negligee. It came to mid-thigh. Perhaps it would spur on my next date to fuck me good.
I didn't spend as much time as I'd planned shopping; I was anxious to get home re-watch that movie and play some more.
I changed into my new lingerie, no panties. That's how I spent the afternoon and evening, letting my finger explore my pussy. It didn't get any better; I didn't make noises or have the expressions on my face that the actress did.
There had to be more. I opened my laptop and Googled ‘female masturbation.' It was a disappointment. There were links to sites which proclaimed masturbation healthy, and others which proclaimed it sinful, but no ‘how-to's.'
There must be something. I'd never looked at pornography; never thought about it, but on a whim, I Googled ‘female masturbation adult movies.'
It was a gold mine. I found link after link of girls masturbating. I'd been doing it all wrong.
A half hour later, I was sitting up in bed, my laptop between my legs, mimicking the girl on the screen. I discovered my clitoris. What I mean is I discovered the joy of my clitoris.
For the first time in my life, I had an orgasm. It was the greatest thing ever. That actress in the first movie I watched had nothing on me: I made the same noises she made, and I could only guess, but I'm sure the expressions on my face were just like hers.
It got better the second time, and even better the third time. I was certain that I was more animated than that actress. I rolled around on my bed; my fingers glued to my pussy. I didn't get much sleep, and I didn't need to look at my laptop. I wore my hand and fingers out.
I must have fallen asleep. In the morning, I was drenched in sweat and that negligee was on the floor.
I took a shower. No washcloth this time and spent much of the time with my soapy hand playing. I brought myself to an orgasm and then another.
After drying my hair, I put on a robe made breakfast and while I had coffee and ate, I watched another adult female masturbation movies.
Then I spent Sunday in bed. My fingers found my clitoris time and time again. I barely made it to work Monday morning on time, and I wasn't able to concentrate on my work.
All I thought of was getting home, getting undressed, and masturbating. Three of four times I came that afternoon and evening.
It was more of the same Tuesday, but I did something else. I played with my pussy, but for the longest time didn't make myself come. I was becoming familiar with my pussy; playing with my inner labia; sticking two, sometimes three fingers up my pussy, and of course, learning exactly how my clitoris reacted to the way I touched it.
On Wednesday I hurried home from school, undressed, placed a towel on the floor in front of my full-length mirror, spread my legs and for the first time looked at my pussy. A view only my gynecologist had ever seen.
I played and played, opening my labia as wide as possible. I saw my clitoris, and I touched it the way I'd found that it sent orgasmic shock waves through me. I loved the way my open pussy glistened and felt so slick.
Every day was the same. At work, I went through the motions; doing enough not to raise questions, anxious to get home to enjoy an evening with my pussy.
Then it happened, I had a date. A real date, with a real guy. I always stopped at the same coffee shop every morning, and frequently ran into the same people. One of them was Leon. He was kind of cute, and we often made small talk. This morning, he asked me out.
He invited me to a play. The city had a large theatre district, but there were also numerous small, very small theatre groups trying to breakthrough to the big time. Call it off, off, off Broadway. That's where Leon took me.
I brought an oversized bag with my new red negligee inside along with a toothbrush. Yes, I was hoping.
The theatre was in an old store front and sat less than a hundred people. We waited in line for the doors to open. I couldn't help but see the store next door.
It was an adult bookstore; promptly displaying a variety of dildoes. My roommate in college used one and on occasion I'd hear her during the night. I never thought about it until now. Never.
After the play and getting something to eat, Leon asked me to go home with him. Like I said, I was hoping.
Like many of my dates, it was a disappointment. Even the enticing sexy, red lingerie didn't help. It was over way too soon, and the morning fuck was just as bad.
Frankly, I was thinking of what it might be like with one of those vibrators.
I thanked Leon for a wonderful evening; went home, showered and dressed. Yes, I was going back to the city to that adult bookstore. I wore sunglasses, and put my hair up under a baseball cap.
The train stop was less than a block from the store. Looking around, I thought I'd found what I was looking for. Like my breasts, the dildo was like Goldilocks: not too small, and not too big; just right. I bought enough batteries to last a lifetime; or so I thought.
I was anxious to get home, and my pussy was wet on the train home.
TO BE CONTINUED
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