Posted by red on September 2nd, 2005 in Articles, Sex

Seven

I used to run naked through the woods behind my home, fantasizing wildly about being caught by the neighbour, and then fucking him to prevent him from telling my parents how bad I’d been.

It was much more rudimentary than that statement implies – I didn’t really understand how sex actually worked. I understood the concept “penis in vagina” from school. In fact, I pretty much had the nitty gritty of it down cold – eggs, sperm, uterus, babies – that was all crystal clear. I also understood that sex felt very good for those involved – but that’s pretty much it. I had no concept of the clitoris, no concept of caressing, no concept of thrusting. So, I guess it’s not too surprising that my fantasy, although detailed in the setup, had absolutely no sexual content other than the acknowledgement that sex happened at the appropriate point in the story. I guess it’s also not too surprising that my primitive masturbation technique, used only when the tension building inside myself seemed unbearable, was to fashion a very crude dildo out of a bundle of fresh green leaves, stuff it up my cunt, and leave it there while fantasizing. The dildo, not surprisingly, did little to aid the passage of the screaming orgasm aching to burst out of me. It would be years before I’d have an orgasm, long after I’d finally learned how to masturbate, long after I’d forgotten about those days in the woods with my naked body and my elaborate fantasy…

Twelve

I went through many phases in my friendship with my group of girlfriends as I was growing up. For a brief period of time, our imaginative late night party games had us dry humping each other.

Hyped up on sugar at slumber parties, we would get naked in the pool, and enjoy the decadence of skinny-dipping in good company. I remember marveling at the differences in our bodies, gawking curiously at the shapes of our breasts, the poutiness of our labia, the variety in our nipples.

Later in the night, after the PG rated videos and the good nights from parents, we’d set up a “comedy club” and do routines. A few of my girlfriends, hyper and full of adrenaline from the late hour, would simply disrobe with a silly dance, getting laughter from the rest of us at the sheer amount of giggling accompanying their performance. Over time, the comedy routines were abandoned, and we were simply staging a strip club – complete with lap dances. It happened so naturally – before we knew it we were ‘dressing’ like men (ties, hats…nothing fancy) and the ‘dancers’ were eagerly jumping from lap to lap, grinding into each one with naive lust. I don’t think anyone actually got physical – there was no groping, no touching – just the grinding. Nor do I think anyone ever actually got off – but it felt sooooo good. Eventually, one of the more Christian girls of the group eventually made the announcement that this particular slumber-party pastime was sick, and that put and end to it all, forever.

Seventeen

I used to think I couldn’t orgasm. I’d tried – I’d rubbed my clit till I’d swear the damned thing would fall off. Nothing. Clitoral orgasms are hard for me – a fact with remains to this day (I like to think that they’re just picky).

I shimmied up underneath the faucet in my bathtub, positioning my pelvis under the slow, steady stream of warm water. I was reading a novel in which the female lead gave herself “faucet orgasms”, and thought I’d give it a try. It took some wrangling to get in a comfortable position, but when I did, it started feeling really good. I played for a while, rocking my pelvis around and enjoying the sensations is different areas. After a while it started feeling reaaaaaaally good when the water was directed in just the right way. I concentrated finding *that* spot and staying very still as the pleasure completely overwhelmed me…

And then it happened – my first orgasm.