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Ch. 02: An Interlude
We all piled off the bus into the cold night air, stumbling wearily down the steps into a crowd of waiting parents. A cloud of mist from our steamy breath formed over us as we all gathered at the side of the bus waiting for the driver to unload our bags and all the kit from the luggage compartment. We were quiet now, and sleepy after the ride. Greetings were cautious, displays of affection not too obvious – a quick discreet hug maybe. Even though most of us were older now we were still at that awkward age where love shown by or to our parents in public was an embarrassment.
Janey’s mum and my mum were both there and commiserated with us about the lost game. To be honest I’d completely forgotten about the result. My mind was in a turmoil, full of images of Janey and Carmel snogging around the back of the changing rooms, of the flash of Carmel’s breasts as Janey pulled them out from under her bra, and the look of ecstasy on Carmel’s face when she came with Janey’s hand inside her knickers; and the look of wonder in her cool blue eyes as they flicked open and looked straight into mine from where her head rested on Janey’s shoulder as she came down from her orgasm.
And more images from in the bus on the way back after the game – the fresh apple scent of Janey’s hair in my nostrils still slightly damp from the showers as I snuggled my head against hers in the darkness of the bus on the way back. I felt the memory of Janey’s breasts in my hand, the size and weight and warm softness of them, and the sharp stiffness of her nipples against my palm.
I had reluctantly agreed to fondle her in the darkness of the bus while she masturbated quietly under the cover of my big puffy anorak. I had to admit to myself that my reluctance was not complete; and I also had to admit that I had felt a certain pride when I brought silent gasps of pleasure from Janey when I squeezed and tugged on her breasts and gently pulled and twisted her nipples.
But my feelings were a mixture of disgust and fascinated curiosity. There was a sort of fashion for trivial lesbianism going round. It was not unknown to see girl’s kissing girls and such at parties and in the odd nightclub we were allowed into – usually for a dare or a bet, almost always egged on by the boys. I suppose it was mostly after Madonna and Britney Spears had snogged on that video. But if anybody thought you were a real “lezzy” they would slaughter you in school and what Janey had done went much further. Even I was kind of grossed out by what I had watched my best friend do – girls just didn’t do that to other girls.
Maybe I should confess that even at eighteen I’m not very sexually experienced – certainly not compared to Janey who claims she had “done it” with at least two boys before her sixteenth birthday and with others since. But then Janey is a bit of a “wild child”, anything güvenilir bahis to push the boundaries, to shock. All the other girls were very wary around Janey; you never could be sure just how far she would go.
Back home and into my cosy bed with a drink of milk and a biscuit. Despite my desperate tiredness I found it difficult to sleep that night. I was still ashamed by what I had done with Janey but all girls do that at some point don’t they. Or do they? Maybe not at eighteen though. I don’t know. I had assumed they did. It seemed ok at the time; but now?
Mixed with the shame was arousal. I was getting horny just thinking about it and much as I tried to keep the images out of my mind I couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to let somebody feel me up properly, to have somebody else’s hands – another girl’s hands – on my tits and private parts. I was still very much a virgin as far as my… cunt – there, I’ve said it… as far as my cunt was concerned.
Cunt, cunt, now I kept thinking about it – about the word. We used it far more often as an obscenity than as a word to describe our vaginas. We called people “cunts” when we were upset or angry with them, boys especially – strange that, we called girls “bitches” mostly, and boys were “cunts”.
Cunt, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I had a cunt, not a vagina, not a pussy – I had a cunt. Under the bedclothes, up under my pyjama top and down inside my pyjama panties, my hand wandered down my belly almost of it’s own accord and I found my “cunt”. I lifted the covers and raised my head off the pillow to look down at myself. I pulled the waistband of my pyjama bottoms away from my belly. Hello cunt, I thought to myself, though all I could see was my pubic hair.
I was soooo horny I had to do something. My head fell back and I closed my eyes, letting the covers fall but my hand remained on my bush.
I pressed against the tangle of my pubic hairs, reached further and grasped with all my fingers and squeezed and pulled upwards at the bit down below, where my tampax went in, between my labia. I knew all the names from our sex education lessons. I explored my cunt lips, probing between them – where was my clitoris? I knew I was supposed to have one, and it did magic things when you rubbed it. I didn’t get that entirely from my sex education lessons but that’s what some of the girls said.
Had Graham found it when I let him touch me up a bit last summer? I don’t think so because there was nothing magic about that incident. It started to hurt when he tried to push a finger up me and I stopped him and let him go back to feeling my tits. It was all a bit mechanical.
I don’t masturbate very often, maybe once a month – usually when Janey stays over or I go to her house. Janey seems to do it all the time. I like it best when I rub just at the top of my cunt, mostly on the türkçe bahis outside just occasionally rubbing down over the softness of my labia and maybe slipping my middle finger just into my vagina. Janey likes to stick a finger right up, and once – to my eternal shame – she persuaded me to do it for her a couple of years ago, just to “finish her off”, she said. She loved it, just lay back with her eyes closed and legs wide open with her knees up, arms on the pillow above her head, occasionally bringing her hands down rubbing her tits under her tee shirt, then down to rub her cunt a bit, just above my knuckles, above where my finger went in. She kept holding onto my hand, making me push my finger in and out.
There was no mistaking the moment when she had an orgasm, she lifted her hips off the bed and started to sort of buck up and down. She squeezed her eyes shut, and with her mouth wide open started to grunt and pant and cry out. I remember I pressed my other hand over her mouth to stop the noise from coming out. I was terrified my parents would hear and come in to see what was going on. Her eyes flew open and she looked straight at me but she didn’t try and take my hand away from her mouth or anything but she was still moaning and grunting and I could feel the “buzzing” of the muffled noises against my palm and the sharp snorts of her breath blowing out of her nostrils, quite cool against the back of my hand. I started to take my finger out of her cunt but she became agitated and moaned even louder and put her own hands on mine to push it back in. She closed her eyes again and continued to buck up and down, still pressing my hand hard against her mound and keeping my middle finger buried deep inside her.
She made me keep my finger in for ages, even when she’d stopped moaning and thrashing about. She writhed a bit then lay quite still, panting against my other hand which was still clamped over her mouth, she didn’t want me to take that away either and moaned and shook her head whenever I tried to move it. So there we were, Janey lying down with me kneeling over her, her legs still open with her knees now flat on the bed covers and her heels together. She was pinioned down at both ends by my hands, one clamped down on her mouth and the other firmly on her mound between her open legs with a finger pushed right into her cunt. When she finally did let me take my finger out it was wet and sticky and smelly and so gross! I had to go to the bathroom to wash it off with my middle finger held away from me so it made that rude sign that Americans make instead of a V. I remember being so careful not to let it touch anything.
I was soooo horny now. I started to push my groin up against my hand, rubbing fiercely with three fingers and occasionally slipping my middle finger just inside. I was wet inside; I slipped my finger in a little further and pulled it out smearing güvenilir bahis siteleri the wet on the outside then pushed it in again. I got as far as the second knuckle and pressed it up and down a bit. It felt soooo nice! I lifted my hips against the pressure of my hand and thrust my groin forward. I started to get the tingly feeling and rubbed harder. I think I found my clitoris, a soft little lump just inside where my cunt lips come together at the front. I’m sure I’ve felt it before but I’m thinking it seems to feel bigger now – and sensitive, wow! When I touch it almost hurts… a sharp sensation a bit like wanting to wee. I leave it for a bit and go back to pushing my finger in and out. Then I want to touch it again… but I go round the sides, not straight on top. Ooooh that’s nice! I bring my other hand down to press on the front where I usually like it – all the while keeping the finger on my other hand inside me. I work them both together – that is definitely it!! Ohh yes!
I slip my upper hand further down and reach into my labia with a finger for my clitoris and just press it – not rub it… wow!! That IS DEFINITELY IT!!!
What have I been missing?!?! Oh my God! My legs are trembling; I sink back onto the bed. My heart is beating fast and I’m breathing hard.
Oh my…! It’s still happening. I rub a bit more – gently now though. It’s almost too much to bear.
That’s enough. I can’t stand it any more. I have to take my hands away. One last squeeze.
I lay very still and my breathing begins to return to normal. My bed is warm and cosy and after a few minutes I begin to drift off. I don’t really want to go to the bathroom to wash – not now. I don’t have a tissue near so I smear the wet from my middle finger and my knuckles over my belly then I slide my hand up from under the covers. I want to smell my finger. Am I disgusting? I can’t help myself. I sniff it… not too bad, nothing like wee, or that gross smell inside your knickers when you haven’t had a bath for a while – or when your tampax has been in for too long.
I lift the covers and look down at myself. Then I let the covers drop and reach down under them to wriggle my pyjama bottoms over my hips, then lift my top off my breasts before I lift the covers again and look down at myself once more. Strange – nothing looks different, though I can still only see my mound of pubic hair. I touch myself again. Mmm, still sensitive; and still wet. Should I get up and go to the bathroom? I’m also tempted to get a hand mirror and look at my cunt. But now I’m sleepy, and content. The whirling images have gone. I give up, I reach down and wriggle my pyjama bottoms back up and pull my pyjama top back down over my tits. I rub my tits one last time through the cotton, then I turn over and snuggle my head into my pillow. It makes me think of snuggling up to Janey on the bus. I wonder if she’s thinking of Carmel?
Or is she thinking of me rubbing her tits? I wonder if she will call Carmel and meet her to fuck her properly – whatever that means?
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