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Learning to Love Myself Ch. 01

By: Mountain Rider



Dear Elain,

Well the birth control pills that Mom insisted I get seem to have done the trick. I've been on them for two cycles now and it really seems to have smoothed out my period. I don't cramp as much either, so that's good. The Doc says he thinks I'll outgrow needing them when I finish puberty, but they're a good thing to have while my body finishes developing. 

He also says that I still need to gain some weight (UGH!). Apparently my body fat is so low that it's interfering with my normal development and menstrual stuff. On top of the counseling they're still making me go to for bulimia... OK, OK, I get the message. At least Dad isn't making eat spoonfuls of peanut butter before going to bed anymore.

Why do I have to be so ugly? Why is being a teenager so hard? The world may never know. Ah well, enough for today. Good night sweet princess. I hate myself.

Elain

PS -- I think my boobs are growing for some reason. I wonder if it's the pills. 

That was how it started. That was when it started.

It was the twenty-first of June almost sixteen years ago. I know this because that's the date I wrote at the top of the diary entry in purple ink. It was my birthday. I had turned fourteen that day, and life really sucked.

Well, "sucked" is a relative term when you don't have any bills, a job, or any real responsibilities other than to get good grades and to not kill yourself. It was the latter I was having a hard time with.

In retrospect, I think it was just the growing pains that every young girl goes through, but I was just particularly susceptible to the drama of it. Some people make mountains out of mole hills. My strategy was to bring myself so low that they just looked that way.

I was depressed, bulimic, suicidal, an underage smoker, pale, weak, insomniacal, etc., etc. -- all the cheerful things you can do to yourself when you're too antisocial to know people who can get you into real drugs. Fortunately for me I was that kind of antisocial and managed to avoid that particular battle.

Yeah, I guess life really did suck back then. Of course with only the slightest amount of perspective, it's easy to see why. It sucked because I made it suck. I made the choices that kept me miserable. Why is that so hard to see when you're in the middle of it?

Anyway, enough of the doom and gloom. You surely didn't start reading this to depress yourself right? I apologize for any dryness or flaccidness you may be experiencing as a result of my psychotic ramblings. The story will improve shortly.

Oh, and I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Elain, and I'm much better now.

*****

Things in general are much better now. Of course life isn't perfect, but I can truly say, "Hi, I'm Elain. I'm 29 years old, and I love myself."

This is your cue to say, "Hi Elain" in 12-Step Program style. I can't hear you... ...c'mon say it... ...ahh that's better. Thanks for playing along.

If you have never been in a Your-Preference-Anonymous support group, or any other kind of support group, let me explain it. I've been in my fair share on the road to digging myself out of the holes I've dug myself into. 

They exist to provide you with a certain amount of accountability, encouragement, and a certain sense of tribal belonging. It's your job to not do what your not supposed to do, and it's their job to look you in the eye make you confess to not doing it. Get it? Then you have cake and Kool-aid.

These groups never worked for me. They work for a lot of people, but not me. 

The solution for me was not for someone to tell me why I shouldn't or couldn't throw-up all my meals, or take that handful of sleeping pills, or smoke two packs of Lucky Strikes a day. Hell no! That would have involved me making hard choices that I didn't really want to make if I was honest with myself.

What did work for me was eventually finding methods to improve my life in ways that made slowly killing myself less attractive. I had to find specific ways to make the choice to live the obvious, logical, and natural choice -- not just the default one. It worked too. I'm still here.

Meanwhile back at the point...so why is that diary entry so important? It's the postscript. That's the day I first noticed my breasts were coming to life. It turned out that in spite of my general ill health, I had an immediate hormonal reaction to the birth control pills. On one hand it smoothed out my menstrual cycle. On the other, it jump-started my breasts. These breasts saved my life.

Within three months I legitimately filled out an A cup. Five months later I was up to B. Six more found me at C. There seemed to be no stopping them, and you'd think I'd be ecstatic. What I was though, was the same scrawny, ill, pale girl -- with nice ripe breasts. 

Imagine a bony ribcage with these swollen perky tits on top. I looked like I had implants. It was disgusting and did nothing positive for my self image. However, since my breasts seemed to have an agenda of their own, I decided I'd try to fit them better and see if I could get healthier at the same time. So I made some lifestyle changes.

The first thing I did was quit smoking when I started my junior year of high school. You see, several things happen when you quit smoking. Notably, you stop poisoning your body. What this means in concrete terms is that your circulation improves because your heart doesn't have to fight for survival every twenty minutes. Your lungs stop taking a beating, and you automatically get healthier.

You also have to figure out a way to satisfy the oral addiction, which is why a lot of people turn to food and gain a lot of weight. Did I mention I already had weight issues? Yeah, tell me you didn't see this coming.

So anyway I started nervous compulsive eating, relapsed into my bulimia, and the shit hit the fan. After a brief stay in a clinic and a lot of support from my parents, I got that sorted out and was able to keep things under control. I put on a little weight because I "needed to", and my ribs stopped poking out. That little bit of extra weight, increased circulation, and general better health gained me a D cup.

Since I could breath better and I still had a serious complex about gaining weight, I figured I'd try exercising. Exercising is hard -- don't let anyone try to tell you differently. I don't care what the infomercials say. 

You see, several things happen when you start exercising. Notably, your body reconfigures itself for the physical stress. What this means in concrete terms is that your metabolism and hormonal systems adapt to change your physical structure. You also feel better because of all the endorphins you release and the strengthening effect the exercise has on your immune system. Go figure.

So anyway, exercising... Even though my name comes from the Welsh word for little deer (see no "e" on "Elain"), I was no good at running or the aerobics that were fashionable at the time. It's hard to run and bounce around when you're carrying D-cup breasts. I did find out that I could swim pretty well though. 

Swimming is a great muscle and aerobic workout, and it helped me undo a lot of the damage I'd done to my lungs over the years. I could never have competed because my breasts were too big to be streamlined, but I did enjoy the solitude of the indoor pool, the feeling of the water, and the excellent exercise.

Okay, follow me here. Exercise boosts your metabolism, so I ended up actually eating more but it turned to muscle and my body tightened up unbelievably. You'd have thought I won a Nobel Prize by the way my parents reacted to my new habits. Exercise also boosts your hormonal cycle, and swimming in particular really works your upper body. So in addition to getting healthier and stronger, I got an E cup. No kidding.

The summer before college I grew a little taller and also really pushed myself at the pool to lean myself down a little. I was still nowhere near a competitive level swimmer, but I was admittedly in fantastic shape. I settled back down to a DD cup, and there I have remained.

So... let's reflect. I was no longer "scrawny" or "ill". "Pale" I couldn't do anything about. Along with the Welsh name, my heritage showed through in my super pale skin, green eyes, and bright red hair. I don't tan -- I just burn. It's not pretty.

I still had the nice ripe breasts, but they were absolutely huge compared to they way they were when I first started to turn my life around. The fact that they were high-mounts made them look even bigger. If you don't know what I mean, let me explain. Some big breasted girls have low mounted breasts that have a gentle slope to them and sway when they move. Some big breasted girls have high mounted breasts that are more round and jiggle rather than sway. It all has to do with where on your chest your breasts connect. I'm in the high mount camp. It's just the way I'm put together. It gives me a great hourglass figure though, especially in a swimsuit.

I didn't really think of my breasts in a positive way at the time though. I felt freakish and odd. I also felt like I had to be careful what I wore so it didn't look like they were shoved up under my chin all the time. I'm sure that the male side of the species noticed me (or them rather), but I still didn't feel particularly pretty or feminine. I was just focused on the exercise as a way to combat my depression and my eating disorder.

Still if it weren't for the initial growth spurt of these bouncy beauties, I would probably not have had the initiative to turn my life around. Yup, these breasts saved my life.

Ironically though, it was the bright red hair that proved to be the next catalyst. It also got me into the first and only fight I've ever been in.

*****

I didn't really have any friends at that point in my life. I'd spent years hating myself, and normal people don't like to be around a person like that. Actually at the time I think I just didn't like people in general, so I never went out of my way to be around anyone who wasn't family. 

Point being, I had never been with a boy. That's it -- period. I'd never been on a date, never been to a dance, never been kissed, certainly never had sex. I had never masturbated either. In fact I never even really thought about sex, because it was a completely foreign concept for me to think of myself in a sexual way. With my curves you would think that it would have been natural, but my head just wasn't in that place.

Anyway, swimming is a great way to get good exercise without having to play on a team or really interact with anyone, so I managed to mostly maintain my solitude during my transformation. Mostly that is. 

That summer before college when I doubled up on my pool time, it was inevitable that I'd cross paths with some people. As it was, the local community college swim teams ran a camp for kids during the day at the same indoor pool I used, and I overlapped some of their staff time. I tried to keep to myself to myself, but people kept trying to talk to me.

I wasn't interested in talking to anyone, so I didn't further any conversation past brief salutations or farewells. I was kind of a mean bitch back then, if you couldn't tell. Anyway, nobody knew my name, but they quickly came up with a nickname for me: "Moses". I only ever heard them calling me that behind my back, though. I guessed it was because I kept to myself or because I parted the water widely or something.

One day though one of the college boys made a mistake and got in my face when I refused to talk to him. In retrospect I know he was just trying to be friendly or pick me up and figured I was playing hard to get. Still, I'm not a friendly kind of girl.

"C'mon Moses! Why are you so unfriendly? Do I stink or something?" he said.

It was the first time any of them had called me that to my face, so I felt obligated to find out what the deal was. "Moses?" I asked. "Why am I Moses?"

"Nothing," he said. I don't think he meant to say the nickname out loud.

"'Nothing' doesn't answer the question. Why am I Moses?"

I guess felt threatened, so he smirked. "Because we draw inspiration from your mountains!" he said pointing at my breasts. Then he lowered is finger to point at my crotch, "And because you have a flaming bush!"

I could feel myself turning crimson. Red mist began to creep in at the edges of my vision.

"You really should trim that bush back -- ha, ha -- it's always fuzzing out around the edges of --"

But that's all he was able to get out before my right fist caught him in the diaphragm. He had just enough time to suck wind and double over before the left fist caught him under the chin and lifted him backward into the shallow end of the pool.

I'd never hit another person before. It felt good. I was stronger than I would have thought I was. 

His friends helped him out of the pool and revived him with extravagant apologies to my departing back. I guess he was okay. I never saw him again.

That night as I sat on my bed in my underwear with my left hand swollen and sitting on a ice pack, I saw what he meant. My pubes did fuzz out around the edges of my panties. Imagine my embarrassment. It never really occurred to me that was happening with my swimsuit. You'd think with as damaged as my self image was, I would have had a better sense of body consciousness. That's what occurred to me anyway as I stepped out of my panties in front of the full length mirror on the bedroom door.

I guess I should pay more attention to myself. I shucked off the heavy spandex sports bra I had on, wincing as I had to use my left hand, and looked at myself naked in the mirror. It was as if I was looking at a stranger. There's something seriously wrong with that.

"You're not who I last remember seeing here," I said to that curvy stranger in the mirror. My God, I had changed, and I felt the first inklings of what I would later learn was an acceptance of myself. I wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but I looked damn good.

I dug a hand mirror out of a drawer, opened my legs slightly, and reflected my nether regions in it. I supposed I could trim my pubes a little to save me the embarrassment of showing them off while in my suit.

I kept turning this way and that to catch the light and aim it between my legs. You know I think that was the first time I'd ever really taken a good look at myself down there? I was nineteen years old and felt like I was looking at my pussy for the first time.

*****

I didn't do anything that night, but the following morning found me in the bathroom with the same hand mirror and a pair of scissors. I sat naked on the edge of the tub and carefully slid the scissors into the natural crease between my right inner thigh and beginnings of my mons. What I remember most is how cold the scissors were next to my skin.

Being very careful not to pinch myself with the blades, I slowly squeezed the handles together and listened as the hair audibly sliced off. The orange curls floated down onto the grey/blue tiles of the bathroom floor. They looked so surreal, and I thought, "That used to be a part of me. Now it's a vibrant dead thing on the floor. How strange. How strange and liberating."

I turned around so my feet were in the tub and did the left side. This time the hair fell into the tub and didn't look so shocking against the white enamel. I used the mirror and also snipped the hair short on my outer lips. I'm right handed, so I had a hard time getting things symmetrical. I kept having to trim a little here and a little there to get everything to match (not that anyone was going to see it, but it was the principle of the thing), and eventually my lips were just barely covered with downy hair. I now looked a bit mismatched between up top and down below, so I went ahead and just trimmed the rest of my pubic hair short.

There was now a small orange pile of casualties in the tub. I used a hand towel to brush myself off completely and also swept up my first trimmings from the tile and dropped them into the tub with the rest. I planned to wash it all down the drain when I showered so there wouldn't be a collection of pubic hair in the garbage for anybody to find.

Examining myself in the mirror again, I was surprised at how much of a difference it made. I could really see the details of my pussy now. My lips were clearly visible through the sparse hair that remained and seemed to pout outward a little. I looked different...maybe...maybe good...sexy?

I reached down with my free hand and stroked my fingers over my new haircut. It felt a little bristly but not too much. Watching myself in the mirror, I absently caressed myself for a number of minutes, and I just kind of spaced out on how good it felt. Finally I started suddenly and jerked my hand away.

I looked into my reflection's eyes and read shame and embarrassment there. I had just caught myself playing with myself, and was momentarily mortified. I was so repressed it was ridiculous, don't you think?

"Lighten up girl," I told myself. "You're self-absorbed enough without developing another complex."

With that I climbed into the shower and took my time getting clean. I did take a little conditioner and rub it on my new haircut though, to soften it. The conditioner was cold and very slippery. I rubbed it in really well just to make sure it did some good.

*****

Sure enough when I put clean underwear on after my shower my bikini line was free of little red wisps. I looked good, I thought. I finished getting dressed and marveled at how different the fabric felt against my pussy.

That whole day at my crap summer job it seemed like I was constantly concentrating on it...my pussy that is (I didn't have to concentrate on my crap summer job). My attention kept returning to how it felt when I walked, how it looked in the mirror, how it felt when I touched it, etc., to the point of complete distraction. 

By the time I made it to the pool that evening for a late swimming workout, I had dampened my panties so many times during the day that I really had to peel them off to put my swimsuit on. At first I thought that I was just sweating more due to not having a furry buffer between pussy and panty, but my mons and outer lips weren't the damp part.

Tentatively I slid my finger between my moist inner lips and felt the slickness of my continuous arousal. I gave a momentary shudder as the unfamiliar feeling washed over me, and I moaned involuntarily as my fingertips brushed past my clit.

My moan reverberated a little too loudly in the cement and tile locker room, and I glanced around sharply. I was alone, but I still hurried into my suit and rushed out to the pool.

I had a very good swim. I tried to burn out my confusion and embarrassment with intense physical activity, and pushed myself really hard. I succeeded in exhausting myself and really getting my arms and legs to burn, but I failed miserably at clearing my mind.

As soon as I was back in the locker room and in the hot shower, I had my hands back between my legs. The showers were deserted thank goodness, because there was no disguising what I was doing. I still clearly remember the steam boiling up around me as I worked both hands between my legs, rubbing my pussy furiously and clumsily with my fingers -- my arms tucked in squeezing my big breasts forward so that the shower drummed on my nipples -- heat upon heat upon heat -- until my knees buckled, and I had to hold onto the wall to keep from passing out.

"Get a hold of yourself Elain," I said aloud, and even smiled at the irony of the statement as I made it. I turned the water on excruciatingly cold (just the far side of "ridiculously cold" but not as far as "insanely cold") and finished up my shower under the shock of it. I dried off, got dressed, drove home, and tried not to think about my pussy again.


Learning to Love Myself Ch. 01



*****

That night I woke up twice squeezing my damp thighs together and caressing my own nipples. I became convinced that I was going through some kind of new unhealthy phase.

*****

"What's new this month?" Dr. Lester said at my healthy-check therapist meeting the next week. I was down to only going once a month to touch base with her about my eating disorder and other unhealthy issues.

"I think something's wrong with me," I told her.

"Honey, you've been coming to see me for -- what -- over five years now? That's the first time you've ever said that out loud."

"Yeah, well this is something completely different," I told her.

Dr. Lester looked exactly like you'd expect an old hippy to look, right down to the Grateful Dead tapestries in her office -- which is kind of morbid if you think about all the suicide attempters she counseled -- ancient sandals on her feet and incense in a little Ganesh burner on her coffee table. She leaned in toward me to look over her orange tinted glasses and said, "Whatcha got babe?"

"Well this past week I've been... ...touching myself... ...intimately."

It's in the nature of counseling to do a lot of listening, and Dr. Lester is very good; however, even she broke after two minutes of silence and said, "And?"

"And nothing! I just never have before, and I've done it compulsively a couple of times now."

"Child, it's not encouraged for those of us in professional counseling to offer judgmental opinions on things revealed to us during session, but if I may break with the rules just this once?"

"Sure."

"If you've never masturbated before, it's about damned time you tried it! You have always had issues about being good to yourself, and masturbation is an excellent way to be excellent to yourself. Hell, if this lumpy old hippy had your body, I'd probably spend all my time touching myself. Of course if I did have your body, Mr. Lester wouldn't leave me alone long enough to do it."

I would have freaked out if it had been anybody but Dr. Lester who said it, but she was as close to a sexless person as I've ever met -- just kind of a big nurturing bean-bag of a human. I just laughed, and she continued. 

"You work hard on your body, so let yourself enjoy it. The only advice I'll give you is: don't rub yourself raw, don't put anything in yourself that could can't get back out, and don't touch yourself with anything that is harmful to sensitive skin or isn't clean. In short, be gentle and sensible with your body and don't overdo it."

"What about orgasm, Dr. Lester?"

"What about it?"

"I know what one is, but I've never had one."

"Don't worry about it child. It's nothing to be afraid of -- can't hurt you at all -- can't do it wrong. You'll know it when it happens."

I nodded.

"You're nineteen and hot stuff. Accept it and enjoy it. Be careful and be good to yourself. Now... get the hell out of my office, babe. I'll see you next month."

*****

I didn't jump right into exploration as you might expect. I had to "debrief" with my parents when I got home from my session with Dr. Lester. It was part of the requirements for my continued counseling to talk to my parents about every session. I didn't have to tell them what exactly I talked about once I turned 18, but I did have to report how it went. They were as involved in my life as possible, and that was a very positive thing for me.

Anyway, I just told them that we talked about further healing on some of my self-image issues. They accepted that, but it did kind of cool my fires for a while. It's hard to imagine coming out of a conversation with your folks and immediately wanting to masturbate. Then we had dinner, and before long it was late.

The next morning, however, found me in the shower with my fingers stroking my pussy tentatively as the hot water pounded on the back of my neck. Oh, it felt good. I remembered my earlier experience and dabbed a little conditioner on my fingers. Quickly it lathered my lips and short tufty bush and gave me a wonderful slipperiness.

My fingers flew and fluttered up and down the slit and strummed across my clit. I wasn't doing anything that Dr. Lester warned me not to do, so I figured there were no other rules. I could do anything I wanted, so I did.

I also lost track of time and almost overheated while I was wrapped up in my own pussy. It felt so good that I didn't want to stop, even when I started to get dizzy and hyperventilate. I ended up holding myself up with my forehead pressed against the wall and gasping, just like when I was in the showers at the gym.

I felt like I had been close, so after I finished my shower I raced back to my room with a towel wrapped around me and locked myself in. I lay back on my bed and opened my legs wide for easier access to my very wet pussy, and my heavy breasts rose and fell rapidly as I panted with excitement. I'll let you pause on that image for a minute... enjoy it... okay, moving on.

As I started to massage myself again I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror on the door. It was directly opposite the foot my bed so I was staring straight up the crotch of this lust mad, redheaded, big breasted girl as she shamelessly worked her dripping pussy.

"Look at you, you sexy whore," I told my reflection. 

I was under doctor's orders to not degrade myself. It was all part of my healing. I was supposed to say nurturing and empowering things about myself.

I was too far gone into the moment to check myself for the self deprecation though, so instead I rolled with it. I would be a sexy whore for myself. I kept my eyes on the mirror as wave after wave of lust and heat bloomed in my body. My fingers made wet sounds and my senses were filled with the scent of my frenzy. 

I also kept up the monologue of insults to my reflection to work through the personal barriers of shame and degradation I'd built up over the years until they began to actually dissolve into encouraging and empowering things.

"Work it Elain. Work that sexy body. You can do it. You can love yourself," became my litany. It sounds silly -- hell, it was silly -- but it was what I needed right then to feel good.

My breasts were swollen and the nipples knotted up, so I pinched and pulled on them with my wet fingers and added that exquisite dimension to my pleasure. I licked my fingers and tasted my pussy for the first time. It was good, so I did it again and told myself about it, "Oh you taste good Elain, you sweet sexy girl."

Forty minutes of massaging my pussy, tugging my nipples, and sucking my pussy slick fingers exhausted me. It was too intense to keep going, and I was starting to dry out a little. I was also going to be late for my crap summer job.

I didn't reach orgasm that day, but I was very encouraged. I felt good while doing it; I felt good after doing it; and I felt good about trying it again. It was as if Dr. Lester had given me permission -- I was normal. This was good thing and I should do it. It was helping to heal me.

*****

Two days later I broke my hymen with my fingers. It was a sudden thing, and I cried for an hour afterward from the pain and the self doubt. Should I have done it? What did it mean? The rationale that I dried my tears with was: my pussy -- my choice -- my decision -- my terms. If it was going to happen, then I chose the time, place, and method. I was okay -- nobody took anything away from me.

The day after that I discovered that if I really worked at it, I could lick my own nipples. It wasn't a comfortable position to stay in for long, but it was wildly entertaining and felt really, really good while I was able to keep it up.

The day after that I tore my hymen a little more and hurt myself again, but I managed to get three fingers in my pussy. It was an incredible feeling of fullness despite the initial pain.

The day after that I discovered the joy of fingering myself while lying on my stomach. You wouldn't think it would make a big difference, but if you've never tried it you'll be pleasantly surprised when you do... and I do hope you will!

The day after that, I finally made it -- my first orgasm! I had stopped talking to myself (having given over to more natural moaning and groaning sorts of sounds), but still preferred to masturbate in front of a mirror. What can I say? It just really turned me on to watch myself pleasure myself. In fact it still does.

So anyway there I was, completely relaxed with the fingers of my right hand going to town on my pussy and the fingers of my left hand rolling my nipples around. I watched through half lidded eyes as one, two, or three fingers disappeared inside me -- my pussy dripping moisture steadily onto the towel I was lying on -- occasionally sucking on my wet fingers to taste my salty sweetness -- making hot circles on my clitoris -- and then it just happened.

It began like dropping a large stone in a clear pool, only in reverse. It was as if ripples of energy from all over my body moved inward in succession and filled up a well in the center. It kept filling and filling and filling and the potential energy of it was great and terrible. Then finally it exploded outward, and my whole body seemed to tighten up as if I curled in on myself. My breasts strained upward and felt like they were going to burst; my abs pulled in; my ass clenched up; and my pussy viced down on my fingers. Everything blurred into slow motion ecstasy, and the stone fell back into the pool. The ripples of energy burst back outward at high speed, and I thrashed around on the bed like a mad animal. The blood was pounding so hard in my ears that I could only hear my heartbeat, but I know I must have cried out.

After convulsing (there's no other word for it) for several seconds, I rolled over onto my side, pulled a blanket over me, and wept at the beauty and intensity of the experience. I felt so incredibly empty and disconnected, and all I wanted in the world was to be wrapped up and held. Dr. Lester was right -- I knew it when it happened.

There was a knock at the door. It was Mom.

"Elain honey, are you okay? I heard you scream!"

"Yeah Mom," I said between sobs. "I just woke up from a very long bad dream."

Mom poked her head in the room and said, "May I come in."

"Please," I said before my brain caught up with my mouth. I was still naked and wet under the blanket, and it seemed like the whole room smelled like pussy.

"What were you doing sleeping?" Mom asked.

"I got out of the shower and was reading for a while. I must have dropped off."

Mom sat on the bed next to me and put her arms around me, hugging me close. I'm sure she must have smelled the sex, but she didn't say a word. She didn't even ask me what the alleged nightmare was about or question the fact that there wasn't a book anywhere near me. She just held me and told me she loved me until I calmed down. Then she kissed me on the forehead and left me alone. 

I think I have the best Mom in the world. She's warm, kind, caring, observant, firm in her convictions, compassionate, smart, nurturing -- all the things a mother is supposed to be, but she also always let me be myself as long as it wasn't hurting me. Dad was always a bit more "this is the way things should be", but Mom always said "let the girl be herself and breathe".

So I breathed, and when I had caught my breath I did it again. The second orgasm was smaller, gentler, and not as much of a shock. I also tried really hard to be quiet, and mostly succeeded. I took my time and managed a third orgasm a little while later before I was too tired to do any more. It was also different, but no less pleasurable. It was also easier. I was finding my triggers, so to speak.

*****

That was it. I was addicted to cumming. Over the next week I probably had six orgasms a day. I found out that I could make myself have a little cum in under three minutes, or I could take my time and have a big one. I masturbated in the shower, in front of the TV, in the bathroom when I had a spare moment, in the otherwise deserted locker room at the pool, once actually in the pool (just to see if I could), and of course on my bed in front of the mirror. I loved cumming in front of the mirror.

I'd like to think I was making up for years of lost time of not masturbating, but I'll admit I was overdoing it in my quest to become expert at it. I sometimes walked a little funny by the end of the day, and I still had a hard time being quiet when I came. These facts were confirmed when I had another brief exchange with the coolest Mom in the world, and found out that she knew I was masturbating all the time.

That particular evening my crap summer job had me home after dinner, but Mom sat with me while I ate so we could catch up on the day's events with each other. I had an hour to kill after eating before I could go for my late swim, so I was going to head off to my room for a while and you know... take care of things. As I got up from the table, Mom pulled a taped paper bag out of a hidden spot and put it in my hand. She mouthed the words, "Open this in private and go easy with it." Then she put her finger too her lips in a "shhhhh" gesture and winked.

Then she shooed me out away from the table and went on about her business. For my own part I dashed back to my room, shut the door, and tore open the bag. Inside, as you might have guessed, was my very own vibrator and a package of batteries. 

It was a small, white, plastic, phallus-shaped device -- only about five inches long, with a smooth tip, and ribs down the length. It was still in the plastic manufacturer's package, which was emblazoned with a full color picture of a naked woman rubbing one nipple with the vibrator and a bright orange For Novelty Use Only sticker over where her pussy would be. I sat there in shock for a couple of minutes and just looked at the thing in my hands. My Mom had just given me a sex toy!

I couldn't quite wrap my head around that, but I couldn't get the package open fast enough either. It only took a couple of seconds to figure out that you had to unscrew the base and load it like a flashlight, so I quickly popped in the batteries. It only had an ON/OFF switch on the base, which I tentatively set to ON, and the little devil began to quietly but powerfully hum in my hand.

I switched it off and quickly shucked off my clothes. I also thought far enough ahead to lock the door and turn on my little stereo for some cover noise. As quiet as the little vibe was, I didn't want to be indiscreet about using it. It never hurts to be careful. I was rapidly moistening with excitement while I was taking care of these little details though. "Go easy," Mom had said. That would be a challenge as excited as I was.

I flopped back on the bed (in front of the mirror, of course) and opened my legs. My pussy lips parted with a small wet smack, and I wasted no time in turning on the vibe and trying to force it inside myself.

Bad idea -- it hurt -- a lot. Fingers are one thing. Actually using a solid object that you have no feeling in is something entirely different. 

I must have had the angle all wrong, wasn't as wet or open as I thought I was, tried to go too fast, or some combination of all of those. What happened was that it felt just as uncomfortable as the language implied when I described it as trying to "force it inside myself".

So I sat back and just slowed way down. I rubbed my pussy gently with my fingers to make sure I hadn't hurt myself for real. Everything seemed okay, so I settled right into a leisurely masturbation rhythm.

Emulating the vibrator package, I started to tease my nipples with the little humming guy. It felt incredible, but was just a bit too much to do for very long. This was going to be harder than I thought. I flipped the switch back to "off" and figured I would just take it one step at time.

I started by gently rubbing the length of the vibe up and down the full length of my pussy lips. I quickly learned how much pressure felt good and how much was too much. I tried twisting it slightly as I stroked it up and down. The little ribs bumped over my clit in a great way, so I kept doing it.

Suddenly realizing where I was, I quickly glanced up at myself in the mirror. Damn! I looked hot. There was just something so nasty about seeing that white plastic toy slide up and down my folds. It instantly made me twice as wet and the vibrator shined with the moisture.

I kept my eyes on my pussy and lifted my knees to my chest, rocking my hips up and causing myself to open. Now I could see what I was doing, so I angled the vibe toward my opening and felt around with the tip. It was a briefly baffling experience watching everything in reverse in the mirror, able to feel my pussy but not the vibrator, and trying to find the way in. 

After a moment I got lucky and the tip slid right in about an inch. It felt odd but good. The plastic had warmed up by this point, so though it was hard and inflexible, it wasn't uncomfortable. I was encouraged, so I pushed a little more, and the toy slid smoothly inside me all the way to the base.

The ribs felt incredible as they bumped along the tight entrance to my body. I slowly withdrew the vibe and just as smoothly slid it back in. It went easy, so I kept doing it. The show in the mirror was fascinating. My pussy would grasp at the plastic shaft as it slid out and seemed to clench it back home as it slid back in. After a few more practice thrusts, I began to build up a rhythm and to grunt softly as I pumped the toy into myself.

I started to give it little twists to make further use of the ribs as well, and that worked like a charm. My grunts turned to gasps, and I just had to start massaging my clit with my other hand. My excitement increased, and I began to clench on the toy as an orgasm started to build quickly.

"Must time this just right," I thought as I watched my busy pussy in the mirror. My clit massaging elevated to frantic rubbing, and I was able to press my left breast upward enough with my arm to flick my tongue across the nipple once or twice.

I felt myself summiting the crest of orgasm and at the last possible second I flipped the vibe switch on...

Language fails utterly to describe that first vibrator orgasm experience. I had never had an orgasm quite like that one, nor have I ever again. I don't believe that the surprise and incredibly fortunate timing can ever be repeated. Ah well, I will at least try to wrap some words around the physical components of what happened. 

...flipped the vibe switch on, and it felt like a high-voltage current seized me from the bellybutton to some point mid-thigh. All my muscles locked in contraction and crunched my body up like a sit-up. My pussy viced down so hard on the vibrator that it stopped the motion of my hand, and my ass clenched so tight that felt like it was drawing in on itself.

Instead of washing over me in waves like a normal orgasm, cumming this way was very (for lack of a better way to put it) tightly localized on my lower belly, pussy, hips, and ass. Everything in that region clenched and unclenched very rapidly for many moments as the orgasm machine-gunned through me. Fortunately I wasn't breathing at the time or I would have screamed. As it was, I only managed a raspy growl in the back of my throat.

Then as quickly as it began, everything released and I uncurled suddenly on the bed. This forcibly withdrew the vibrator from my pussy and skittered it across the bed to rest against my right ankle. I sucked a great breath of air and just lay there with my pussy spasming for several minutes. I didn't feel like I was in my right mind at all, kind of like getting nitrous gas at the dentist. I was in the room, but only vaguely.

Eventually the humming toy resting against my ankle bone tickled too much to be ignored any longer. I came back to myself, reached down to turn it off, and made the mistake of trying to stand up. Balance just wasn't there yet, so I fell back on the bed and just rested.




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 01



I looked at the clock after a while and was amazed to see that only 45 minutes had passed since dinner and my conversation with Mom. I felt like I'd been on the bed for hours. That meant that I still had time to go for my late swim.

I forced myself up, staggered around, gathered my gear, stashed the vibrator in a suitable hiding spot in the bottom of my underwear drawer, hid the packaging it came in, and threw on some clothes to go to the pool. As I left I passed Mom sitting in her chair reading a book.

She looked up and I mouthed "THANK YOU!" to her as I passed. She just winked and blew me a kiss.

****

The swim that night was completely invigorating, and I made myself cum again in the locker room shower afterward. It was just with my fingers, but just because I had a new toy didn't mean that the manual ways were any less pleasurable or effective.

If anything the addition of the vibrator, with which I quickly became an expert, only furthered my addiction to masturbating. I couldn't see how it was hurting anything, so I didn't bother to check it. I followed Dr. Lester's advice and always stopped when I was sore and never touched myself with anything dangerous or dirty.

I did become increasingly creative and reckless though. I drove to work a number of times with my vibrator buzzing inside me the whole way. I also began to regularly make myself cum in the locker room shower after my nightly swims. 

I found out that I could fit a medium sized cucumber in my pussy (washed before and after of course). I found out that I don't like having anything penetrate my ass, but I had to try at least once. 

I masturbated while talking on the phone. I masturbated in my sleep. 

I made myself cum in the bathroom at work on many occasions, also the receptionist's desk and my boss's office chair once just for the thrill. It was stupidly risky, but fortunately I knew where the security cameras were. 

I regularly sneaked off to my car at lunch and fingered myself or used my vibe. I came in dressing rooms at the mall. I came in an examining room while waiting for the physician. I came in the back seat of my parents' car on the long trip to the big state college orientation (that was scary reckless).

I was one mad masturbating girl!

*****

I was due to leave for college in three weeks, so for fun I established a "countdown of cum", during which I wanted to masturbate in a few very specific places before I left town. I didn't know when or if I would ever really return home other than to visit, so I wanted to "say my goodbyes" so to speak.

Some of my ideas were silly. For example, I went out early one morning and vibed myself to six orgasms on the fifty yard line of my old high-school football field and then one more in the endzone for the "extra point". There were numerous silly things like this.

One goal, however, proved to be a challenge. One night after my late swim I sneaked into the men's locker room at the pool and scouted around. I found a locker all the way down at the far end of the locker wall, from which you could see into the shower and the rest of the changing area. I examined the latch and verified that I could work it from the inside -- check one. Then I verified that I could hold the latch closed from the inside -- check two. I climbed inside and verified that I could fit fully inside and get the door closed -- check three. Lastly I peered out the vent slats in the door and verified that I could see into the shower (mostly) and the changing area (entirely) -- final check. It was a little claustrophobic inside, but there was enough room to squat down and brace myself into the space. 

As Montgomery Burns on The Simpsons would say, "Exxxcellent." I'm sure you can see where this is going.

*****

The following day I went to the pool early and sure enough there were other people there. Training swimmers tend to come and go in waves (no pun intended), so I swam until there was a significant gap in the number of people arriving, and everyone I knew to be in the building was already in the pool.

I got out, dried off, and made my way back to the locker rooms -- dodging at the last possible second into the men's room rather than my own. I listened carefully, but there was no sound within. I quickly and quietly dashed to the end locker I had scouted out, and fortunately nobody was using it. I wrapped my towel over my shoulders, climbed in, and clamped the latch shut from the inside with a small C-clamp I had hidden in the front of my suit. Don't ask where it was stashed -- I think you can guess. Then I just settled in and waited.

After about ten minutes, two significant flaws in my plan became apparent. I had no idea how long it would be before anybody came in, and I started to need to go to the bathroom. Five minutes later I was ready to give up and climb out, but then I heard voices coming into the changing area. Three guys from the local community college walked in, wet from the pool. They were vaguely familiar, but none of them were the guy I had punched. My heart started to pound, because I knew that they had come from the pool. That meant that they would probably shower and change instead of just the latter.

It turned out I didn't have long to wait. Almost as soon as the guys came in they peeled off their tiny little swimsuits. They were facing away from me while they gathered their shower materials, so my first voyeuristic thrill was of three really tight asses.

I grinned alone in my dark locker and snaked my hand down my body to my pussy. I pulled aside the crotch of my swimsuit and began to lightly massage myself in anticipation.

Then, as one, all three guys turned around and I saw the first penises I had ever seen in real life. To be brutally honest, I was terribly disappointed. They were all really small and shriveled looking -- not impressive at all or very sexy looking for that matter. With the benefit of hindsight, I know that they were like that from just spending an hour or so in a fairly cold swimming pool and tight swimsuits. At time though, it was enough to make me pause on my pussy and frown in disappointment. I had seen male genitals before on late-night satellite TV, and these guys didn't look like that.

Still the guys were well-built otherwise, and they did have those tight asses. I shrugged to myself and resumed masturbating. Then I had to stifle a moment's panic as they all started walking right toward my locker. Of course they would have to pass directly in front of it to get into the shower, but I was so nervous that I almost squeaked in fear.

They walked right by me completely unaware thankfully, and I was treated with a close-up look at their packages. I noticed as they walked that they seemed to be loosening up a bit since they were freed from their swimsuits. Maybe there was hope for a better show after all.

I quickened my fingers as they turned on three adjacent showers within my field of view and stepped into the warm spray. It was mesmerizing watching the water and soap cascade off their tight bodies. Also, much to my delight, they all grew substantially larger in the hot water and careful washing they performed. Shortly they were all hanging much more impressively, and I was much hotter and wetter myself. "Yeah," I thought to myself, "that's what a cock and balls are supposed to look like."

The three guys were chatting non-stop, but I was so consumed with ogling their sex equipment and rubbing my own that I had tuned out their conversation completely. I did stop and listen when I caught that one of them said "Moses", though.

"Aw c'mon!" said the guy at the shower head closest to me. "Don't talk about her. You know what that does to me!"

The guy at the farthest shower head responded, "All I said was that it had been a while since we'd seen her hot body here. I missed those tits!"

"I'd love to see a lot more of them!" said the guy in the middle. "I'd especially like to see them wrapped around my dick!" he continued and mimed holding something with his hands and thrusting his hips.

"Yeah, you do that, and I'll nail her from behind!" said the farthest guy, and mimed like he was riding a horse. "She is some hot piece of ass!"

My face burned, but I wasn't angry. It felt really weird to talked about (albeit crude locker room talk) as a sexual person, even more so as an object of lust. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but at that moment my face wasn't the only thing that was burning. I was really working on my pussy and watching what was happening to the guy closest to me.

"C'mon guys!" he said. "You're making me embarrass myself." He pointed at his cock, which was standing stiffly at attention. I had not seen it rise, but it stood out big and proud now, and the water danced off its length.

The other two guys laughed and the one in the middle said, "We're just hackin' on ya. We know she gets to you, man."

The far guy added in, "Yeah, besides you don't have anything to be embarrassed about with that big pussy poker you've got. I'm not so lucky." He pointed at his own cock, which was in the midst of hardening. It wasn't as big as the one closest to me, but it was fascinating to watch it grow and distend.

"Aw hell," said the guy in the middle. He lathered his hands with soap and started stroking his own cock. It quickly hardened as well, and as he rinsed the soap off I saw that it looked pretty much like the far guy's. "There," middle guy said to the close guy, "yours is biggest. You happy now?"

"Not until I whack off tonight thinking about Moses," the closest guy laughed. "I can't stop thinking about how fuckable she is. Those tits are just incredible. Of course if she heard me say that, she'd probably punch my teeth out the back of my head." 

"Yeah!" said the far guy, "she's a tough girl all right."

They all laughed and finished their showers, but I noticed that their cocks stayed hard the whole time. Meanwhile I was biting my lip and trying not to cum as I furiously rubbed my clit and pumped my fingers in and out of my wet pussy.

I was fortunate that the guy closest to me dried off almost right in front my locker and pulled on his cock a few times when he thought the other guys weren't looking. I was certainly looking though. Until that night I had never even seen a real cock, but now a big one (by all accounts) was less than ten feet away, pointed at straight at me, and being surreptitiously masturbated. 

I loved the way his balls swung when he pulled on it. The head of it was swollen and red and seemed to beat with a pulse. Suddenly, and with great effort to remain silent, I came hard on my hand as I fixated on this stranger's beautiful cock. The locker was filled with the scent of my pussy, and seemed unbearably hot and close on my body. I dared not make a sound though.

Finally the three guys squeezed their bodies back into regular clothes and left the locker room. I listened for a couple minutes and then released myself from my locker. I left the locker room area as quickly and unobtrusively as I could, but the pool was deserted except for one other girl who was still swimming laps.

I dashed back into the women's room to pee since I still had to. Then I jumped back into the pool and pushed myself through a few laps as well. By the time I finished, I was alone. 

I had another long, slow, wonderful masturbation session in the shower, but not before I checked all the lockers. I was just paranoid enough to believe that I needed to. It wasn't enough to make me keep my fingers out of myself, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I had spooked myself with my own voyeurism. 

It was extremely stimulating to think that the guy with the biggest cock might be at home right now pumping it in his fist and thinking of me, as I worked my fingers into myself and though of him. It was just what I wanted from that experience. Two weeks to go and I'd be off at school exploring even more opportunity.

***** I spent the rest of those two weeks winding up my crap summer job, packing my stuff for college, and checking the last few items off my countdown of cum. That included straddling and humping a bedpost in our guest bedroom. I don't recommend that by the way. It was way too big for me to have tried to fit it inside myself. 

It also included fully inserting a cucumber in my pussy... in the grocery store... and putting it back in the bin. I know it sounds nasty, but it was a great thrill. I won't go into details on how I did it, but it makes you wonder where the food that you buy has been doesn't it?

Other than that, I kept up my nightly swims and masturbation in the locker room shower. I never repeated my locker stunt though. As exciting as it was, I was too scared to try my luck a second time.

*****

The night before I left for school, I walked out of the shower room for what I imagined would be the last time for a long time and nearly tripped over a naked girl sitting on the tile in the shower entrance. I nearly jumped out of my skin! It took me a second to overcome my shock, but I recognized her as one of the swim camp instructors from the community college. 

She was about as tall as I am, much smaller breasts, short hair, and apparently shaved all over. The reason I noticed this last fact in particular was that she had two fingers buried in her shaved pussy. It looked for all the world like I had just stumbled on her as she had an orgasm.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.

"I'm Jodi," she gasped, completely flushed and breathing hard.

"How long have you been there? Were you watching me?"

"I've been here every night for two weeks, and I can't get enough of watching you," she said softly, beginning to catch her breath but no losing her flush. "I came out from using one of the stalls that first night and saw you touching yourself in the shower. It... it made me touch myself too. I couldn't help it."

We just stared at each other silently for a long moment. She slowly relaxed her fingers and withdrew them from her pussy with a small wet pop.

So someone had been watching me. I stared at her pussy for several seconds. It looked like it was still clenching from her orgasm. I could see the wetness on her lips and the pulsing of her bare clit from where I stood. She looked absolutely amazing. 

"I'm going away... to college... for a while," I stammered at her, not knowing why. Even though I had just cum for the second time in as many hours and probably the fifth time that day, I was embarrassed to find the blood rushing to my clit and my nipples tightening up.

"I know," she said, with her eyes fixed on my body. "I'll miss you. I just wanted to say that before you went. I...I just wanted you to see me too...see me touch myself."

"You're beautiful," was all I could say.

She looked like she wanted to reach out and touch my leg, but I lost my nerve. I dashed past her, threw on my clothes, and drove home without a backward look. It was time to get out of town.

To be continued...

*****

As usual, please vote here at the end if you like what you've just read and send me feedback if you are so inclined. I like to hear if people enjoy what I'm turning out. -- MR



Learning to Love Myself Ch. 02



Hi, it’s me again -- Elain. Did you miss me?

When we last talked, I was at the point in my narrative where I was fleeing town and a horny naked girl for the far horizon of University life somewhere not close to home. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, please go back and read the first part of my tale.

This portion of my story is a bit, shall we say -- involved. So if all you’re looking for is a bit of fluff to masturbate to, you may want to look for something else to get you there. Since, as you know, I’m a big fan of my own sticky fingers, I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you did go for a quick fix elsewhere. However, if you would like to turn your vibrators down low and ride this one out with me, I’d be more than happy to have you along.

The personal relationships in this chapter will appear overdramatized and overcomplicated. If you notice this and think I’m making up stuff or that I’m just a bad storyteller, then I challenge you to remember what you were like when you were nineteen. There now… it’s not so unrealistic is it?

*****

They say that you meet lifelong friends at college. I think we established in our last conversation that I don’t really like other people, so as far as I was concerned that would not happen to me. It turns out I was wrong though, and within my first week at school, I met my best friend. She was a couple of years ahead of me and deep into the business and finance degree programs.

She was warm, congenial, friendly, socially at ease... all those things I was not. She was also popular with the guys (more on that later), but she had terrible luck with them. I swear, she was just too trusting and had no idea about the ulterior motives and shallow personalities that almost every college boy has. Her experiences ended up embittering her quite a bit.

We changed each other a lot, and I’ll be grateful to her forever for that. We really expanded each other’s horizons in some fun and meaningful ways. She’s still my best friend in fact, and I miss her terribly since she moved away. I think she got fed up with life in general and just wanted to start over somewhere else. The last I heard she’d met some fabulous guy, fallen in love, and everything was super. I guess her plan worked.

All this moving away and falling in love stuff happened years after the tale I’m about to tell you though. For this tale we have to go back to the aforementioned flight from town and a horny naked girl for the far horizon of University life somewhere not close to home… 

*****

It was my first week on campus. I had moved into my dorm room and decided that it was best for all involved if my roommate and I had as little to do with each other as possible. I’m sure she was a nice enough person, but I didn’t want to trouble myself with finding out. Also having to share a room was really going to put limits my favorite sexual recreation, and I resented that.

I’d found the pool and signed all the waivers to use it, so I wouldn’t have to do without my swimming outlet. I’d also found the school counseling office and gave them Dr. Lester’s information. They would contact her about me and continue my therapy if she thought it was necessary.

I was setting up my familiar things around me as best I could, and everything seemed to be lining up to be bearable if not ideal for the start of my college life. The pivotal event (from your point of view as a reader) occurred when I went to the campus health center to get my birth control pill prescription transferred and refilled. I know, I know… the pills started this whole thing off, didn’t they?

*****

“Hi,” I told the disinterested woman behind the check-in desk, “I’m here to get a birth control prescription transferred and filled.”

“You have to be examined by one of the staff physicians first to establish medical history. Have a seat and fill out these forms. Then we’ll get you into a room,” she responded and tossed a clipboard my way.

Fifteen minutes and one collect phone call from the lobby to Dad to get the insurance information was all it took, and I handed back the forms.

“All right,” she said. “Right through those double doors and left, and it’s the first room all right?”

“On the left?”

“Right.”

Left room right, or right room? Jeez! Who’s on first?  I thought as I went though the door. Predictably I went to the first door on the right, and it was the wrong room. 

“Whoa! I’m sorry. Wrong room,” I said as I barged in and found the room occupied. I moved to close the door and then stopped and continued to peer around it. 

The occupant was a young woman wearing just shorts and bra. She appeared to be quite beautiful, but it was hard to tell too much because she was doubled over, holding her face in her hands, and sobbing. Then I noticed that her left calf was heavily bandaged, and that there was fresh blood spotting on the clean gauze.

“You okay?” I said after a moment. 

“No,” she groaned. “It hurts.” Then she lifted her head from her hands and clutched her stomach.

Her tear-streaked face was very beautiful despite her messy look, but what really I noticed when she dropped her hands to her stomach was that she had absolutely enormous breasts. Her bra was doing everything it could just to hold them up. Apart from that she had big brown eyes and long dark hair that fell in ringlets. All in all she was a very pretty young woman even though she was also obviously quite distressed.

“It looks like you got hurt pretty bad,” I said, indicating her leg.

“Yes,” she said and sniffed back more tears, “but it was nothing compared to the rabies shots they just gave me in my stomach.”

“Ow! You were bitten by a dog?”

“A big mean one,” she said. “I was walking down the alley by the grocery store on my way back home, and it attacked me. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It was like a nightmare. It’s all gravel back there, and I wasn’t wearing shoes so I couldn’t run. And then it was biting me, and I fell down, and, and…” 

It all kind of spilled out of her in a rush, and then she put her head back in her hands and cried again. It was kind of pitiful, and I should have just left her alone. For some reason, maybe Dr. Lester rubbed off on me over the years, I kept talking to her.

“Is there anything I can do?” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else.

“Yes,” she said. “You can hand me my shirt. It’s hooked on the door there, and I feel silly sitting here crying half-naked in front of a stranger.”

“Oh, sure,” I said and stepped fully into the room. I shut the door behind me and handed her the shirt. It was dirty and torn, which seemed to back up her attack story. I noticed that one side of her face, one elbow, and both palms were scratched up too, likely from where she fell on the gravel.

“Thanks,” she said and stood up. That’s when I noticed that she was also good four inches taller than me and bigger boned. She wasn’t heavy at all; she was just a big girl. It only added to her Amazonian proportion when she painfully stretched her torso up to shimmy her shirt back on. When she raised her arms, her bra looked like it was going to explode under the tension.

“Yeah, everybody stares at them,” she said, testily when she caught me looking.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was, but only because it’s very rare that I see someone larger than myself.” I threw my shoulders back and pushed my breasts out to make my point -- so to speak. She seemed to notice me from the neck down for the first time, blinked a couple of times while taking in my curves, and then actually smiled. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a bad day.”

And that’s how I met Angel.

*****

It worked out that I finished my physical exam and got my prescription changed over just about the same time that Angel was released to go home. She was having a hard time walking and was still pretty shaken from her dog attack. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I walked home with her and helped to steady her on her feet. We stopped for a little ice cream on the way, and before long we were talking like we actually liked each other and had something to say.

I’ll maybe attribute some of our immediate closeness to the effect that meeting someone new during a really stressful time can make you cling to them. Some of you may have experienced that. It’s like you’ve already made yourself vulnerable to them, so you kind of feel an automatic connection. Angel had just gone through a pretty traumatic attack experience, and I was recently displaced and knew nobody. It kind of set us up to bond.

On the other hand, Angel was just really magnetic. She was hard to not like, and deceptively easy to open up to. She had this wonderful smile that had no trace of being disingenuous, and this really infectious giggle. I’m not known for laughing much, but like I said, she was magnetic.

I found out that Angel lived about a mile off campus in one half of a brick duplex. It was furnished really well for such a small unassuming place, which was odd. I got the immediate impression that her family had money, but it was never spoken. The place had one really big bedroom, a decent sized bathroom, an open kitchen with a table, and a living room. It was just right for one person who likes a lot of space.

We ended up staying up most of the night talking, and I helped her change her bandage a couple of times. I didn’t seem to be able to hold anything back from her, so before too long she knew all about my eating disorder, my dysfunctional life, my wonderful parents, and my obsession with…swimming. I didn’t mention my obsession with the other thing; we didn’t know each other that well!

In turn I found out about her family, her dislike of shoes, her love of cooking and spicy food, etc. We eventually wound our way around to our majors. She was a Junior with a double major in business and finance, and I was just starting a major in mechanical engineering. It then occurred to both of us that it was late and we actually had to start classes the next day. She offered to let me sleep over, but all my clothes and books were back at my dorm, so I regretfully declined. We agreed to meet for lunch the next day though to continue the conversation.

By the next weekend, we had honestly become fast friends. I really liked her, and she helped me to integrate into college life pretty easily. We were both very driven in our studies, so we didn’t get in each other’s way, but it was good to have someone near my own age to talk to. I guess I missed out not really having friends before I left home. 

Over the course of the next several weeks, Angel also introduced me to several of her other friends, and I found them mostly to be regular decent people. I was the odd-Freshman out, but nobody seemed to care that much. It honestly felt pretty good to have some people, so to speak. I was experiencing a sense of belonging that I didn’t expect.

Angel was definitely the center of things though. She was so socially at ease and charismatic, that people just gravitated to her. It didn’t hurt that she always seemed to cook too much food and “had to share, so it wouldn’t go to waste”. The result was that at least twice a week, she’d have five or six people over to her duplex for dinner. I was fortunate enough to have a standing invitation and rarely missed a chance to spend time with them all.

Don’t get the idea that I was turning into “Jane College” and becoming a social creature, though. My days were spent knocking my head against my core classes, including the beginning of the very long math sequence that all engineering majors must take. Not many people can speak Calculus (except Angel, she understood that numbers were important), and fewer can speak Particle Physics. I was still quiet and unapproachable most of the time – which was good for my studies and not so good for my social life. Still, I had Angel and the regular dinner crowd to provide me with some human contact. I learned to really appreciate that, especially after the stress of my first mid-terms.

I also still loved swimming and still preferred to be alone to do it. I usually went early in the morning and was even able to find a reliable time to be alone. Even better, the showers were semi private. They had no doors, but there were narrow walls between the shower heads. If I was quiet, I could still masturbate after swimming, even if there was someone else there. There rarely was anyone else, but I got a special little thrill from stroking my pussy to orgasm only a few feet away from an oblivious stranger.

My roommate, Kimberly, was driving me nuts though. She had rushed a sorority, which (though I have nothing against it in principle) meant that there always seemed to be extra girls in our room when I needed to work on homework or just be quiet for a while. I think I frightened them because I would never speak, but I was bitter at the lack of privacy. I mean, c’mon here, I’ve got masturbating to attend to, and I wasn’t getting nearly enough!

I figured that they had gone through my underwear drawer though, because I came back to the room one night, and some things in it had been moved. My sadly unused vibrator was locked in my desk so that was no concern, but Kimberly and the rest of girls all stared at my chest the next time I saw them.  I guess they had been curious to see what size I really was. 

I told Angel about it and she just laughed. “Get used to it,” she said. “Guys are even worse. They talk to mine.” She was sympathetic about my general (not specific to masturbation) privacy issues though, and really floored me with her next idea. 

“You want to move in with me next semester? My place is plenty big enough, and at least we get along.”

“I don’t know,” I said after a moment. “It’s certainly preferable to what I have now, but I’d worry about intruding on your space.”

“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “If I hadn’t been thinking about this for a while, I wouldn’t have offered. There is plenty of room to put an extra bed and a dresser in my bedroom. The closet is big enough for me to share, and the living room is an entirely separate private room. You wouldn’t have to hole up in the library at all hours just to get work done.”

“I don’t know if I can afford it…” I said, still looking for the hole in her plan.

“Actually if we split the rent and utilities, even with cable TV, I bet it comes out cheaper for you than staying in the dorm.”

“What about personal privacy?” I asked. I was thinking this might give me a way to resume my favorite pastime, but I disguised it as best I could. “What about if you want to have a guy over?”

“Or if you do?”

“Yeah right..” I replied sarcastically.

Angel frowned, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, but either way it’s no problem. There’s still the living room, and we can work out a system to warn each other if we need some private time.”

“What’s the upside for you?”

“Apart from helping a friend?” Angel flashed her winning smile. “This is my first year out of the dorms, and my parents would feel better about it if I didn’t live alone. They think I’ll be safer if I have someone else around.”

“Hmmm… Do you snore?”

“Not that I know of. You?”

“Nope. Don’t smoke anymore or do drugs either.”

“Walk around naked?”

“Given the opportunity, I might!” I giggled.

Angel looked slightly embarrassed. “We might have to cross that bridge. I don’t wear clothes around the house sometimes.”

“Not to worry,” I told her, still laughing. “You forget that I’m the one with self esteem issues. I’ve also spent a lot of time in a swimsuit and a public locker room shower getting over being modest.”

“Deal then?”

“Okay,” I said, “Let’s estimate some rent and utilities numbers, and I’ll call and ask Mom.”

Mom said it sounded like a good idea and even talked to Angel for a few minutes to “get a feel for the young lady”. Dad actually liked the idea so much that he was willing to send me some money to buy a bed and a dresser and to pay rent enough to move right away. I think he shared Angel’s parents’ opinion that I might be safer, but he also considered that I might not be fitting in well in the dorm. I have to give Dad credit that he’s usually more on top of things than I think he is.

After that we both talked to Angel’s parents and they agreed. They seemed like nice people, and I’d already seen photos of them to go with the voices. Then Angel and I just sat and looked at each other for a minute.

“Hello roommate!” I said and stuck out my hand.

“Welcome friend!” she said and hugged me instead. That was a new thing for me.

*****

Angel and I went shopping the following Friday afternoon and bought a twin bed and a build-it-yourself dresser for me in another friend’s borrowed pickup truck. After that I just gathered up my books and clothes, left Kimberly a note telling her that I was gone, and squared everything away with the housing office. By Friday evening, I was moved.

That first night was seminally interesting. During the building of my build-it-herself dresser , Angel found out that I could swear like a sailor when I’m frustrated enough. That seemed to make her a little uncomfortable, but I apologized (see there are firsts for everything) and everything seemed okay. We ordered a pizza and set up my bed while we were waiting on it to arrive. Then we ate and watched TV until we were bored with it. Now that we had all the time, it seemed like we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Neither one of us wanted to go anywhere, so we just sat around talking until it was late.

Though we were pretty close, Angel and I had never talked in any detail about relationships or sex, but the topic of our “I need privacy” signal came up again. We settled on using Angel’s wooden sauce spoon. If either of us came home and found the spoon on the kitchen table with the handle pointing at the bedroom door, then she would know that the other was inside “getting a taste of something good”.

We laughed about that for a while, and then I took the next step, “How likely is it that I might come home -- I like saying that -- and find you with a guy?”

“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I’ve dated a couple of guys since I’ve been here at school, but I’ve never been alone here with a guy. Of course with you here it might be safe, but as you know I’m not dating anyone right now.”

I just nodded.

“What about you?” she asked, and yawned widely. “Oh, excuse me.”

“Pretty unlikely. I’ve never even had a date.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah -- but don’t make fun of me okay?”

“I never would -- not about that anyway. Why haven’t you tried dating?”

“It’s never come up. I’m not the type of girl that guys want.”

“Are you kidding? Your gorgeous, and you’re smart! And you’ve got those!” she said, and gestured at my chest. “If you got half the attention I do because of mine, you’d never want for a date.”

“Yeah, well until I met you I wasn’t the type of person that other people liked to be around. Remember, I used to have… issues.”

“Well you’re a different person now. Maybe something will happen for you,” Angel said encouragingly. “Have some confidence, and see where it takes you.”

“Maybe,” I said. “It will be all new to me. I’m really a shy person.”

“Stick with me kid. We’ll go far,” Angel said in her best Bogart imitation.

“How far have you been?” I asked tentatively. “You don’t have to say, if you don’t want to. I think you can guess that I haven’t really done anything. Blue streak of fuck-words not withstanding,” I said and pointed at the dresser, “I’m still virginal.”


Angel nodded. “I’ll tell you, but now you have to promise not to make fun of me,” she said seriously.

“Of course.”

“I gave up my virginity in high school, and I’ve been with two other guys that way since then. I thought I loved each of them, but it didn’t turn out that way. Each time something fell apart, and they weren’t willing to stick with it. I wasn’t important enough to them to make them work for it.




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 02



“Maybe I don’t really know what love is, but I always thought it involved being willing to do anything for someone. I don’t know, but I’m trying to be more careful about who I let get anywhere with me. I mean with my body and my heart. I enjoy sex, but with those guys… I -- I just don’t want to have any more regrets.”

“Was it bad? Did it hurt?” I asked. I could feel the first flushes of desire kindling between my legs.

“It only physically hurt the first time -- in high school. It was worse than I expected, and the guy wasn’t very sensitive about it. We were also afraid that I would get pregnant and he… um.. wasn’t able to keep going for very long. The other two guys were much better and actually wanted to impress me. They were good at it, and they did more than just… um.. regular things.”

It was official, I was horny. I could feel heat building up in my crotch and my nipples were starting to harden. “Like what?” I pressed.

“God, this is embarrassing,” Angel said. “I feel like I’m playing truth or dare with my little sister!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry too far.”

“No,” Angel responded and took a deep breath. “I can say this.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than reassure me.

“Say whatever you like,” I encouraged. I know I’m bad, but my inhibitions were rapidly melting away in the growing heat of my hormones.

Angel steadied herself and said quietly, as if afraid someone would overhear, “They licked me between the legs.”

My mouth got ahead of my brain, “They ate your pussy!?”

“Elain!”

“What? -- oh sorry -- no wait, I’m not sorry. What?”

“What?”

“What?” Jeez – it’s back to Who’s on First? 

“You make it sound so dirty,” Angel hissed. She was bright red.

“It is dirty!” I told her. “It’s dirty in a very, very good way. I can’t imagine how awesome that must feel and how exciting it must have been!” I was lost in the moment. “Did they make you cum that way? Did they like the way you taste? Did they put their tongues inside your pussy?”

“Elain!”

“Wha-at! ”

“I’ve never heard anybody talk like that!” Angel actually sat back and fanned herself, she was so red-faced.

“Come on, Angel. It’s just you and me,” I said. “I’m sorry. Virginal me -- I guess that I am a bit foul-mouthed. You see why I don’t have many friends?”

That got her giggling, and then we both burst out laughing to ease the tension. Eventually we were lying on our backs on the floor gasping for breath, with our feet pointing opposite directions and our heads next to each other.

Eventually Angel looked over at me, “Girl, you are full of surprises. I don’t know when I’ve been so flustered. Virginal my ass!”

“See you know the words!” I said. “Flustered my ass!”

That set off a new burst of laughter until Angel said, “I’m sorry, I said I wouldn’t make fun. It’s just kind of a weird thing to hear my sweet, shy friend Elain talk like that.”

“I didn’t feel like you were making fun,” I said. “I just got excited and let my mouth get ahead of my brain. Besides, it’s not like was really saying anything bad.”

“Excited?”

“Yeah -- you see now it’s my turn to be embarrassed. I was getting turned on hearing you talk about those guys licking your pussy and I --"

“Elain!”

“Angel,” I said in as stern a voice as I could manage. “It’s not an evil word. You have one; you can at least say it.”

I turned toward her lovely face and saw that she had a confused look wrinkling her brow. Her mouth was working slightly on the words, but no sound was coming out. It was like I asked her to taste something completely unfamiliar.

I softened my voice to just above a whisper and said as gently as possible, “Angel, say ‘pussy’.”

She hesitated for just a moment, then whispered back, “Pussy.”

“That didn’t hurt now did it?”

She smiled uncertainly, “No it didn’t.”

“Say ‘my pussy’.”

“My pussy.”

“Say, ‘He licked my pussy and made me cum.’”

“They both did,” she whispered and smiled. “They licked my pussy and made me cum.”

“Was it good?” I ventured.

“It was glorious,” she said and stretched luxuriously on the floor. She was getting caught up in the memory now.

“What about the other?” I pushed a little farther.

“What -- when they --"

“Fucked you?” I completed for her, my voice just barely audible. My pussy was really starting to burn. I wished I could have touched myself right then.

“I’m not there yet,” she whispered back and smiled. “It’s funny, I did it but I can’t say it -- to many inhibitions I guess. Maybe some bad memories too.” Her face clouded slightly as she appeared to look inward for a moment.

“Am I embarrassing you?” I asked seriously. I was afraid I had pushed her too far. “Are you having second thoughts about having let some freak into your home?”

“No,” she smiled again. “You’re being you, and you’re a wonderful person. It’s actually good to see some of your walls come down. I’m just embarrassing myself.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m excited too, and I’m letting myself get carried away.”

“Angel, there’s nobody here but us, and I’m the last person on earth who would judge you. I am dysfunction on two legs. I am dysfunction with red hair. I am dysfunction with big breasts. You have nothing to worry about from me!”

“Thank you,” she said and looked back up at the ceiling. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said after a moment. “As long as it’s just you and me talking, let it be straight talk only and no judgments. Can I trust you with that?”

“You can trust me with that,” I agreed enthusiastically, “as long as we make it a standing rule in the house. That way it’s always like that. Then if either one of us gets offended by something, she can put the brakes on whatever it is -- in a gentle way of course -- and the other one of us will know she means it.”

“Agreed,” she said. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and I want to go to bed.  I also want to talk more about this. It’s fun to remember the good stuff. It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone really, and it makes me feel all tingly between the legs.”

“Ahh, wait,” I said, “I’m going to enforce your new uninhibited vocabulary. It makes you feel all tingly ‘in your pussy’.” I was one to say, my pussy was soaked and tingly too!

“Damn you girl!” she laughed and slapped at me playfully.

Then we both sat up, made sure the front door was locked, turned off the lights, hauled in my new dresser, and closed ourselves in the bedroom. I had already unpacked my hanging clothes, but I quickly loaded the dresser as well.

The bedroom was basically one long rectangle. It had a window that looked out the front of the house on one short wall, and the bathroom and walk-in closet in the opposite short wall. The bedroom door was on one long wall near the bathroom, and there was bigger window in the middle of the opposite long wall. We had arranged things so that heads of our two beds were on either side of that big window. My twin bed was on the side with the bathroom and the closet, and my dresser was on the long wall opposite the foot of my bed. Got all that?

Angel’s full-size bed was set up the same way on the other side of the big window. She also had a small desk under smaller window in the short wall. We had a coffee table under the big window that acted as a bedside table for both of us and provided about five feet of separation between our two beds.

Angel was standing in this five foot wide space between the beds when she seemed like she felt suddenly awkward. She started to say something three times before she got the words out.

“Um… so we’re flying the ‘straight talk only’ flag, right?”

“Yeah,” I said as I got my nightgown out of my dresser. “Is everything okay?”

“Well I kind of warned you about this before we decided you should move in,” she said and paused. “I sleep naked.”

“Okay,” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “Why shouldn’t you?”

“I just didn’t want to shock you,” Angel replied.

“After what we just shared out there,” I said, pointing at the door. “You have to work harder than that to shock me. Besides, I thought I was the shocking one,” I continued and mimed her fanning herself.

Angel grinned, “Um… do you wear anything in bed?”

I looked at the nightgown in my hand, looked at Angel, and then pointedly stuffed it back in the drawer. “Nope,” I said confidently.

I hope that I sounded more confident than I felt. I was honestly quite nervous about taking off my clothes in front of Angel. It wasn’t that I was terribly worried about her seeing me naked. We were both girls, and both had big breasts. It’s not like she was hiding anything I hadn’t already seen. What did make me nervous was that my pussy was very wet, and I didn’t know how evident that would be.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights before we get undressed,” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Angel offered after a moment. “Why is this so hard? We’re both confident people. We’re both young women. We have pretty similar bodies even. Why are we nervous?”

I took a big deep breath and spilled it, “Straight talk? I’m a little nervous because I’m still kind of excited. My pussy is wet, and I didn’t know if it would be obvious or how you’d react.”

“That was my concern exactly. I’m wet too!” Angel laughed. “Oh, excuse me,” she paused, straightened her spine, threw her shoulders back, and struck a pose of confident authority, “I mean -- my pussy is wet too!”

“That’s my girl! Well I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” I declared. “I’m going to brush my teeth.” So I closed myself in the bathroom, brushed my teeth and peed hurriedly. I really wanted to finger myself, but I didn’t want to raise suspicion. So I came back out in short order.

Angel was still fully clothed and fiddling with her alarm clock. “What time are you getting up to go swimming?” she asked. “I want to go with you if you don’t mind.”

“I normally get up at 5:30 and go at 6:00,” I answered. “Obviously I don’t eat breakfast first, and since I’m just going to get wet, I just throw on some clothes and go. You really don’t have to get up if you don’t want to, but I’d be happy to have you come along.”

“That is awfully early, but I’ll try,” she said without looking up. She finished setting the alarm and then said, “Maybe we could take a nap later in the day. Anyway, my turn in the bathroom.”

She was out in two minutes, and found me fiddling with my alarm clock. Then we were back to where we started. Still fully clothed and staring at each other.

Without another word, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off. Angel pulled her shirt over her head. I’d seen her impressive attributes in a bra before, but it really bears repeating how enormous they were. I followed with my shirt and she did likewise with her jeans. Simultaneously we both unsnapped our bras and let all the girls out.

We made a really sexy contrast as you can imagine. Angel had a much more olive complexion compared to my lightly freckled paleness. Her nipples and areolas were a light brown whereas mine are rose colored.  I had never seen brown nipples before, so I probably stared more than I should have. Also whereas I have round high-mounted breasts, Angel’s were great sloping low mounted breasts. They weren’t saggy at all, just big and heavy looking. Impressive pretty much sums up Angels breasts. Actually it pretty much sums up all of Angel’s body.

“Wow Elain!” Angel said. “You hide those well. I knew you were big-chested, but not that big.”

“And I’m surprised you can keep those tied in at all,” I answered back. “How big are you?”

“I wear a 36E bra, and I think I might still be growing. It runs in my family. You?”

“I wore an E once, but I traded some of it for muscle. I wear a 36DD now.”

“How can you wear a 36? You’re a smaller person than I am.”

I turned around, rolled my shoulders forward, and pulled my elbows downward. My lats flexed outward like wings. “My back is wider than you think,” I explained. “It’s from all the swimming.”

“Well you have an awesome body!” appraised Angel. “I could always tell you worked hard on staying in shape, but now that I can see all of you… you’re just incredible. Cute butt too!”

I turned back around and caressed her with my eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot. I can say the same about you. You don’t have any extra weight on you, but you look so mature compared to me. You have real hips, and your skin is just to die for. I can’t get over your breasts though! Wow they’re big!”

Angel gave her shoulders a shake which set her twins swaying. “All natural, just like you!”

“Speaking of natural,” I grinned, “you’re about to see the proof that my red hair is all natural too.” I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and was about to slide them down.

“And I can see the wet spot on your panties!” Angel said. “You weren’t kidding about being excited.”

“Definitely not,” I said. “I’m soaked.” I slid my panties off my hips and thighs, dropped them to my ankles, and deftly kicked them into my dirty clothes basket. I then quickly combed my fingertips through my short pubic hair and said, “See, flaming red everywhere.”

“I see,” Angel said giggling. “I’m soaked too, see this.” She rocked her hips forward and I was able to see clearly that the entire crotch of her panties was stained a darker color. “Time to get these off,” she added after I had seen my fill, and she quickly shed them.

Angel’s bush was slightly thicker than mine, but narrower in shape. It was dark and curly like the hair on her head, but looked soft and downy.

She was gazing at my pussy as I studied hers. “Do you shave?” she asked.

“No, but I do trim a little. If I don’t, it shows when I wear my swimsuit. There’s a story that goes with that actually. I’ll have to tell you sometime.”

Angel rocked her hips up again as if presenting her pussy to me. I couldn’t see any detail, but I could tell that her arousal had damply matted the curls farther down between her legs. I must admit that it was extremely sexy to see her that way.

“Do you think I’ll have the same problem tomorrow?” she asked, tracing her fingers through her bush.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to look when you put your suit on, but just looking at the shape of your pubic hair, it doesn’t look like you’ll be showing anything. 

“Now stop and think for a second,” I told her. “Not ten minutes ago we were both griping about feeling nervous and awkward. Now we’re examining your pussy, comparing breasts, and talking about how wet we are.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Angel mused. “That all happened rather quickly didn’t it? I guess we’re just getting that much more comfortable with each other, and I’m excited enough that I’m feeling really uninhibited. I don’t feel nervous at all now. You have the same body I do, and I don’t feel like your judging me.”

“At least not negatively,” I said. “You have a fantastic body. We definitely live in Big Breast Central!”

“Hmm.. life in the BBC!”

“Imagine announcing your next big dinner: ‘Tonight at the BBC, we’ll be serving linguine and fresh greens…’,” I laughed.

That sent us into new fits of laughter. I swear, she brought out a silly side of me I didn’t know existed. We each climbed into our beds and killed the lights. I was still extremely horny, but my fires had cooled a little. I was more tired than I thought.

“Hey Angel,” I said. “Turn the light back on for a minute.”

She sat up and clicked the light back on. “Yes?”

“Thanks for rescuing me from the dorm, and thanks for being a good friend. You bring out good things in me, maybe some wild things too, but I can’t remember when I’ve been happy like this.”

She swung her legs over the side her bed, and stood up in all her naked glory. “Come here,” she said and pulled my up by my hand.

I stood up, and she pulled me into a hug. Our breasts pillowed into each other, and I felt her nipples bump across my own. My pubic hair brushed against her upper thigh and hers tickled my lower belly. It was completely unexpected and unbelievably sensuous. My pussy instantly became molten again, and my head swam.

“You’re welcome,” Angel said tenderly. “It’s a good thing for me too, and I’m happy to have you here.”

She broke the embrace and read the shock on my face. “Hey… are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said softly, blinking rapidly. “I’m not much of a hugger, and I’ve just been embraced by a very beautiful and very naked woman.”

Angel’s eyes went wide. “I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping back to arm’s length. “My whole family is touchy-feely. I forget that not everyone is like that. I didn’t think about us being skin to skin either. Like I said, I’m not thinking of inhibitions right now.”

“No, no..” I reassured her. “It felt really good. I just didn’t expect it.” I stepped toward her and hugged her back. Angel responded, and we held the embrace for a few moments, then separated with a smile. “Thanks again,” I said.

We both climbed back into bed and I said, “What else did you want to talk about?”

“Lots of things,” she said, “but I think I’m too tired right now. What do you say we leave the ‘straight-talk-only’ flag up as agreed, and continue this tomorrow?”

“You got it,” I responded through a yawn. Angel clicked the light back off, and that’s the last thing I remember before falling into a deep and satisfying sleep.

*****

The alarm went off way too early, and we both sprang up and staggered around for a few minutes trying to get our bearings. For me it was that I was in the dark in an unfamiliar place; for Angel it was just unusually early. One of us managed to get a light on though, and we stood there naked, smiling at each other.

“You all right this morning?” I asked as I fished around for something to put on for the ride over to the pool.

“Yup,” she yawned. “I’m not sure even why I want to go with you, but maybe you can give me some tips on swimming for exercise. I work out regularly at the campus gym, but it’s hard to do anything aerobic when you have these,” she said and lifted her heavy breasts in her hands.

“Tell me about it,” I nodded emphatically. “That’s why I started swimming in the first place. You do have a swimsuit, don’t you.”

“Yes, but it’s more decorative than functional.”

“Bikini?”

“Oh no,” said Angel with an alarmed look on her face. “I’d fall out of a bikini instantly. It’s a one piece, but it’s got laces and ties and stuff. I’ll probably have to buy something with fewer frills and better support if I’m going to try to swim for real.”

By this time I was dressed, and had my stuff packed. It was another fifteen minutes or so before Angel was put together enough to leave, but luckily it was a short trip to the pool. My swimsuit is a simple full support thing with a high neck. Angel’s was a sparkly silver bit of stretchy fabric that laced up the front (for an adjustable fit, she claimed), but still had a low neckline. It was a lot more for show than function. She looked awesome in it though, and I told her so.

I showed her some basic strokes (like I’d ever been trained -- I learned what I know from a combination of books and trial and error), and how to breath properly. Then we each chose a lane and swam for an hour. Angel struggled a little and had to take frequent breaks, but she did really well for her first time trying. I was very proud of her.

When we got back to the locker room, I got ready to go in the shower and Angel confessed that she hadn’t even thought about. She hadn’t brought soap, shampoo, or even a towel.

“I’m a dummy,” she said. “I was just thinking that we would go back home and get cleaned up. Sorry, I didn’t know the procedure.”

“No stress,” I told her. “I’m just a creature of habit, and didn’t even think that you wouldn’t know. They have towels here and you can share my soap and shampoo if you’d like to spend the school’s hot water instead of ours. Or we can just go back home.”




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 02



Angel brightened immediately, “Okay. Let’s shower here.” We got her a towel, and she continued, “I didn’t mean to be weird, but this is a big part of your life and I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“Chill,” I told her. “It’s not that important where I shower.” In my head though, I couldn’t wait to get into the shower and make myself cum. I had been aching for release since swimming the previous morning, and the horny sharing we had done last night had me almost frantic. 

We quickly stripped and put ourselves under the hot spray in separate stalls with an adjoining wall. The soap and shampoo sat on the top of the wall where we could both reach them, but we were assured a modicum of privacy while we washed. As we began, Angel chatted about what she wanted to do that day. 

Good, I thought, just keep talking, and I’ll know exactly where you are. I happily let her rattle on as I washed my hair, lathered my body, and began to frenetically rub my clit. I occasionally had to respond to Angel’s monologue, but I kept it monosyllabic and concentrated on my pussy. I was almost to the point of ecstasy when I heard Angel announce, “Okay, I’m done,” and turn off her water. Shit!  Imagine my frustration!

I bit down hard on my lip and groaned in despair as I had to stop so close to release. I quickly rinsed off, then reached for my towel, and stepped out of my stall. Angel stepped out of hers at the same time with her towel wrapped around her head. She smiled, then cocked her head to the side and stared at me. Her skin was glowing and a few drops of water were still clinging to her impressive curves. My blood was pounding in my ears from fear of discovery and aborted orgasm, and my pussy involuntarily spasmed at the sight of her. What is happening to me?  I thought and watched the fluorescent lights reflect in a drop of water suspended from her left nipple. 

Looking at her in that moment -- I wanted her. I suddenly desired her more than anything in the world, and it scared me to death.

“What did you do?” Angel asked and stepped close to me.

Oh God, can you smell my desire? Does my lust show on my face? Did you hear me touching myself?  The pounding in my ears intensified.

Angel was nearly breast-to-breast with me. I could feel the heat coming from her skin as she brought her hand up to my face. I found myself getting lost in her eyes -- those deep brown eyes contrasting with the white towel on her head. She softly ran her thumb across my trembling lower lip, and I almost kissed it. There was a slight sting at her touch, and I was shocked when her thumb came away covered in blood.

“Did you bite your lip or something?” Angel asked, and it was like being hit with a bucket of cold water. All the sounds of the locker room around me came rushing back in and time seemed to pick up where it had slowed. What is happening to me? 

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I must have.”

“Are you okay?” Angel asked. She was still painfully close to me, and her tone of worry had not diminished.  I could smell my soap on her body. She smelled like me.

I shook my head a little to clear it. “Umm… yes. I just got a little overheated. I’m usually the only one here, and I didn’t think about the extra steam coming out of the adjacent shower,” I lied. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” Angel said brightly. “I know I’m going to need a nap later. I feel fine now, but getting up this early and exercising is going to wear me out.”

*****

By the time we got home, my head had cleared and my pussy had cooled down, and it was hard to come to grips with how crazy I’d felt. I chalked it up to being too horny for my own good and tried not to think too much about it. We were both hungry too, so we sat down to breakfast and planned out the day. Angel got a little frustrated with me because she had to repeat everything she had said to me while in the shower.

It was only eight o’clock in the morning by that point so we decided to do homework until lunchtime and then take a break to eat and see what we wanted to do next. We were supposed to have the normal crowd over to dinner that night, partially as a “Welcome Home Elain” party, so we had to go to the grocery store at some point. Angel was also insistent about getting a nap.

By lunch, I was done with everything but English homework, and that could wait until Sunday. Angel had some kind of Statistics homework left to do but also agreed to put it of until Sunday. So we agreed to go find some lunch, get the shopping done, and then nap and hang out at home until it was time to cook.

*****

“I hope this works,” Angel said after we got back from our errands. “I’ve never cooked this type of fish before.” She was shoving food into the refrigerator.

“What did you say it was called again?”

“Tilapia. It’s an African fish from what I understand, but you can buy it everywhere now.”

“Do you know how to cook it?” I asked. If you think I had food issues, it was nothing compared to the intimidation I felt about cooking.

“I have this recipe from my Brazilian grandmother,” Angel said and flapped a yellow piece of paper covered in illegible scrawl at me. “Of course it’s in Portuguese, so you can’t read it. I had Mom translate it on the other side in case I ever lost my grip on the language,” she amended and showed me the English version.

“We’ve got about two hours before I need to get started cooking,” Angel continued. “I’ll teach you how to do a few things in the kitchen in return for your lessons at the pool this morning.”

“I’ll try,” I told her, but I didn’t have high hopes. It must have come through in my voice.

“Bad attitude,” she fussed at me. “It’s nothing to be afraid of, and we were doing so well expanding each other’s horizons. Don’t quit on me now. Speaking of expanded horizons,” she continued, “let’s go get naked!”

“Excuse me?” I said. I felt a momentary fear and flutter in my stomach.

“I’m going to have a nap and you’re coming with me aren’t you?”

“Okay sure,” I said. “But why are you so insistent about this nap?”

“Well I want to go back to the pool with you tonight for your late swim, and I want to be rested so I don’t just pass out right after dinner.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” I said. “I bet you’ll be super sore tomorrow.” I followed Angel into the bedroom, and we both got undressed. I flopped onto my bed and she onto hers, giggling. Of course that set both of our sets of breasts wobbling wildly and only increased our laughter.

“I could get seriously used to this,” Angel said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Being naked around the house,” she explained. “I used to do it before, but it feels so much more fun now that there’s somebody to share it with. Is that weird?”

“I’m okay with it,” I said, though I really wasn’t sure if I was or not after my reaction that morning. “The novelty of it is fun now at least, and -- and –"

“And what?”

“It made me feel good last night that you said I looked good. I’ve had such low self esteem for so long, that it really matters to me that someone I trust thinks I’m okay.”

“Okay?” Angel declared. “Elain, you are truly sexy! How could you think that you were not?”

“I’m just not used to thinking of myself that way.”

“Well you should. You’re body is all tight everywhere. You have that fantastic pale skin, red hair, and green eyes combination that guys love. You have those amazing breasts, too. What’s not to like?”

“I dunno. Just old patterns that are hard to break,” I said. “My old therapist always told me to work on loving myself. That’s the hardest thing in the world for me.”

“Trust me, Elain. You’re very sexy.”

“Thanks, but to answer your question -- no I don’t think it’s weird as long as we’re both comfortable with each other.”

“I think that’s part of why I like it,” Angel explained and rolled on her side to face me across the space between the beds. “I think I’m enjoying being naked with you because you help me feel good about myself too. I feel sexy when we’re naked together. Does that make sense?”

“More than you know. I thought it was just me.” Inwardly I was relieved. Maybe that’s all it was that got me going that morning. “Straight talk?”

“Of course,” Angel replied, “rules of the house.”

“I like looking at your body, and I like it that you’re looking at mine. I’m getting a thrill out of seeing you and showing off myself at the same time. It’s… well, it’s exciting. Is that too weird now?”

“I think that’s what I was trying to say. You just said it better.” Angel nodded. “ It’s also like I look at you and I think ‘She’s got a great body, and it’s not that different from mine. So I must have a good body too and I hope she thinks so.’” 

I nodded my agreement. Angel grinned and remarked, “We’ve only lived together a couple of days and we’re already becoming uninhibited wild women.”

“I think it’s positive for my self image at least,” I laughed. “Dr. Lester would be proud.”

“You have great nipples,” she said out of nowhere.

I caught my breath at her words and became aware that my nipples had hardened in the cool air. Of course her words hardened them further.

“Sorry,” Angel said. “I was lying here looking at them, and I just kind of blurted that out. I’m trying to see what I can feel comfortable saying. Like you said last night, enforcing my new vocabulary.”

I smiled and turned to face her as well. I very lightly brushed my fingers across one of my nipples and queried, “What’s great about them?”

“They’re proportioned perfectly to your breasts, and they’re a pretty color. Are they sensitive?”

“Yup, very. Yours?” I looked over and saw that hers were standing proudly at attention as well.

“The same, almost too much in fact. I’ve always felt like mine were too big and conspicuous though. It doesn’t take much and they poke out -- and when they poke out they’re kind of hard to miss!”

I grinned, “As long as we’re talking straight, I might as well tell you that I am terribly impressed by your nipples. I think that they’re beautiful along with the rest of you, but what strikes me most is that they look so unusual -- in a good way, you know exotic. I’ve never seen brown nipples before.”

Angel gazed down at them, “Yup, that’s part of my Portuguese heritage I think. It gave me the dark hair, brown eyes, and tan intimate skin as my grandmother used to call it.”

“You’re grandmother?”

“Yeah, the same one who wrote the recipe. She’s still lives in Rio. Whenever my mom would go back to visit home in Brazil, my grandmother would warn her to put sunscreen on her intimate skin if she went out on the beach.”

“Your mom would go topless on the beach?” I asked.

“Not that I know of, even though she could get away with it and look good. Maybe she did when she was younger, I’ll have to ask her sometime. Anyway, my grandmother thinks everybody walks around naked on the beach though. She also thinks that the entire continent is on drugs and that she’s personally responsible for the success or failure of the Brazilian national football team. She’s a bit batty, but I can see the wisdom in the sunscreen advice.”

“I guess you wouldn’t want to burn your nipples! I can’t imagine how painful that would be. At least yours are already tan.”

“Yeah well, I’m tan in the other place too.”

“I don’t follow you.”

Angel screwed up courage, “My pussy.”

“You said it!” I exclaimed and sat bolt upright.

“I’m getting used to it,” she said. “I still feel naughty saying it, but we did have an agreement. Anyway, your… pussy… is probably pink isn’t it?”

“A deep pink,” I answered without hesitation. I was after all an expert on my own pussy. “Kind of rose colored, a bit darker than my nipples.”

“Same here, except tan and darker tan,” Angel explained. She sat up on the edge of the bed and very quietly asked, “Would you like to see?”

I blushed deep red. “Would you like to show me?”

Angel blushed as well and stammered, “I -- I asked you first.”

I don’t really know why, but I did want to see. I don’t know if it was honest curiosity, or something else, but I was very turned on by the offer. I felt my already moist pussy go all they way to wet. I wonder if Angel was feeling the same thing. I thought I would test the boundaries of our straight-talk agreement.

“Yes I would. I can’t explain why, but it turns me on that you would to show it to me, and it would turn me on even more to see it. Now, before you move an inch I want to know the answer to my question.”

“ I do want to show it to you. I feel really vulnerable, but like I need you see all of me and think I’m pretty.”

“Wait a minute, I’m the one with self esteem issues! You’re the glamorous Amazon! You have the gorgeous hair and skin and eyes and breasts and everything. Angel, you’re perfect. What difference does it make if I like your pussy or not?”

I guess it came across as a little harsher than I intended. I am admittedly the moody girl, but Angel will cry at the drop of a hat. Needless to say, she teared up instantly.

I got up and went over to her bed to sit next to her. I tentatively put my arm around her shoulders and rocked her a little while she wept. Granted my pussy was electrified from being skin to skin with her again, but I was really worried that I had hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just didn’t want you to share something with me that you would regret later.”

“It’s not that,” she explained. “My last boyfriend, Carlos, left me for someone else. When we broke up he told me that wanted someone he could have sex with who didn’t feel used. He called me really nasty names and said nasty things about my body, including down there.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, ‘didn’t feel used’?” I said as my concern switched to anger. Who was this asshole who had been mean to my best friend?

“He said… he said that I was loose and that my… that I had a ‘big, floppy, used up cunt’ and a lot of other stuff,” she blurted, and I could feel her go stiff with anger.

“What an asshole!” I said through gritted teeth. “I bet he just had a small cock.”

That made Angel smile a little, but it was a grim smile. Her eyes were still sad and angry.

“Yeah, it was kind of small compared to Jimmy -- he was my boyfriend before Carlos – but I never would have said that to him. That would have been cruel.”

“I guess Carlos didn’t have the same reservations you did. That’s just horrible though!” I consoled. “How can you drag someone through the dirt about how they’re made.”

“Yeah,” Angel said and hiccupped. “I can’t help it if I’m a big girl.” She cried for a couple more minutes and then said, “Sorry I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid. If it hurts inside, then the feeling is real. It’s not like you made it up, and it’s not like I’m going to judge you for it,” I said in my best Dr. Lester emulation. I kept my arm around her until she settled down.

“How long were you with him,” I asked.

“Seven months.”

“What about Jimmy?”

“Almost a year and a half,” she said wryly. “I really thought I loved him. He followed me here in fact, but transferred at the beginning of our Sophomore year. He said I wasn’t worth staying for.”

“Prick!”

“No, really. I told him he wasn’t worth following when he left,” she said bitterly. “I always throw myself into new relationships as if every one is ‘The One’. They just don’t work out that way. Jimmy had clothing issues.”

“What?”

“He couldn’t keep his pants on,” she explained. “I think he cheated on me with three different girls.”

“Damn! Asshole!”

“When he was good, he was very, very good. When he hurt me, he hurt me very, very badly.”

Angel sniffed a final time and turned her body a little to face me. The heavy softness of her breasts pushed against mine, and I felt a sensuous tremor go through me. Her deep brown eyes captured my own green ones, and she looked inside me for a moment.


“Sorry,” she said. “I kind of killed the silly mood we had.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “This is important stuff too. ‘Straight talk’ applies to everything, not just the fun stuff.”

“This is ugly stuff, and I’m glad to have someone to talk to about it. I promise I won’t be a therapy case all the time. I didn’t realize how much baggage I was still holding onto from Carlos.”

“Angel,” I said, “it sounds like we both need to work on loving ourselves. It also sounds like we can help to strengthen each other. I promise I’ll be here for you in whatever way you need me.”

“Deal,” Angel said seriously. “I promise you too.”

With that, Angel pushed a couple of buttons on her alarm clock, clicked off the light, and stretched out on the bed. I fought with myself for half a minute, then stretched out next to her on her bed.

“Is it okay if I stay here?” I asked softly into the dim room.

In response, Angel reached across and hugged me to her, and we both dozed off with our bodies pressed against one another.

*****

The alarm woke us up an hour later, and I must admit that I felt refreshed. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping with someone else before (except maybe when I was a very little girl), but Angel’s warmth next to me was comforting as she stretched her gorgeous body and slapped the alarm clock into silence.

We hopped up, got dressed, and set about preparing the meal. All the other times I had come over for dinner, I arrived in time to only see the final touches. Angel truly was amazing in the kitchen, and I was impressed by all that she could keep going at once to make food happen. We stayed busy the whole time, and I actually did learn a few things. If anything I learned to be less intimidated by concept of cooking, if not the actual success or failure of the meal itself.

“You know my offer from before still stands,” Angel mentioned, as if in passing. She didn’t look at me when she said it, and people were due at the door any minute.

I assumed she meant seeing her pussy up close, so I replied, “I’d still very much like to take you up on it.”

Angel did look at me then, and flashed me a grateful smile, “Maybe later tonight then?”

“Or whenever. No pressure at all. I’ll look forward to it until it happens though,” I said, and the look on her face made me feel like Supergirl. I guess it was exactly the right thing to say.

“Me too,” was all that she said. Then the doorbell rang and an exquisite meal was had by all. We did a fabulous job with the Tilapia, if I do say so myself.

*****

“Yikes! My suit’s still wet, and it’s really cold!” Angel said from behind me at the locker room later.

I turned and saw that her nipples were making big peaks in the sparkly fabric as she laced it up. I grinned and said, “All part of the experience. I’ll show you the spinner after we’re done. You put your suit in it and it spins the water out like a washing machine. Mine dries so fast that I didn’t think about yours.

“Do you want to learn a new stroke or keep with what I taught you this morning?” I asked as I adjusted my own suit. “Either is fine by me.”

“What are you going to do?” Angel asked.

“Pretty much the same thing I did this morning. I do a lot of variety, but don’t follow a very strict plan.” I said as we made our way back out to the pool. As it happened, a tall blonde girl was coming in just as we were heading out, so it looked like we might have company. Angel seemed nervous about that. I guess because she still felt awkward in the water.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “It’s not a contest, and it’s not like we’ll be in her way.”

That seemed to satisfy her, until we realized that there was also a guy in the pool. He must have come in with the blonde. What was funny was that his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the two of us. I guess our assets caught his attention!




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 03



Elain here -- I'm back. Sorry for the delay, but I had to rest my fingers. Typing wears me out, and I needed my fingers for something else. I think you can probably guess what it was.

In response to the multiple queries -- yes the twins are fine. More specifically to answer the one person who asked "how [they] were hanging", the answer is: THEY'RE NOT! They still salute the sun my dear, even though I'm in my thirties now. They've got a bit of bounce to them, but that's not what you asked now was it?

Anyway, I'm going to pick up my story where I left off. If you are new to me and this narrative, then please go back and read the previous two chapters. It won't take long, and then at least you'll know what the hell I'm talking about. I can't say that for four out of six average people, so try to be one of the two. 

Confused yet? Excellent.

*****

The last you heard, Angel and I had gone to sleep with our legs intertwined, the scent of pussy in the air, and the glow of orgasm still on our skin. Doesn't that just sound heavenly? 

I sort of woke up once during the night, and in my dreamlike consciousness, I was surrealistically aware that Angel and I were embracing tightly. Her enormous breasts were pressed into my own and cyclically compressed together and relaxed as we breathed in our restful state. Our legs were still intertwined with one of her thighs between mine and vice versa with one of her long, long legs atop the stack of limbs. I could feel the smooth skin of her thigh pressed firmly against my pussy and the downy texture of her pussy resting almost against my hip. I squeezed her with my legs and pressed us even more firmly together.

I could just make out her face in the darkness, just a few inches from mine. Due to our height difference her lips were on my eye level, and her breath stirred against my forehead. I remember staring at her lips for a few moments and just being full of her presence. I felt so protected and fulfilled. It felt terribly romantic, and I wondered briefly: Am I falling in love with her? But I don't think I'm homosexual. What's happening to me? Then sleep reclaimed me in its own warm enfolding grasp.

*****

The next time I awoke, it was my bladder that provided the motivation. Angel and I were a little more separated, so I was able to disentangle myself and get up without waking her. My romantic confusion was forgotten for the moment as I relieved myself and then examined my sleep-lined face in the mirror. A quick turn with my toothbrush succeeded in un-paving my mouth, and I began to feel not only awake but human.

Angel was still out like a light when I came out of the bathroom, so I didn't bother to wake her or to get dressed. After last night, I couldn't think of any reason to cover up. We'd already seen all there was to see of each other and then some.

I let my naked self out the bedroom door, closed it quietly behind me, and went in search of a little bit of breakfast. I didn't drink coffee (at that age), so a glass of orange juice and my English homework kept me company as the next hour passed quietly at the kitchen table.

Then I heard Angel stir, rise, totter into the bathroom, and repeat the same routine I had completed the hour before. She eventually opened the bedroom door and poked her head out.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning," she responded sleepily. "I just wanted to see if you were here."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm trying to get my English homework knocked out." I turned in my chair and stretched my arms over my head, proudly displaying my naked breasts as I combated the stiffness of sitting in a chair hunched over homework. "I figure if I get it done now, then I won't have to think about it later."

Angel took a long look at my quivering mounds and then walked unsteadily out into the living room. She had also neglected to put on any clothes, but looked awkward and stiff as she moved.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "You look like you're having a hard time getting around."

She flashed me an exaggerated glare and joked, "Thanks to you! I can't believe how sore I am." She walked over and slowly sat down in a chair at the table with me. "I shouldn't have tried to jump right into your two-a-day swimming regimen until I was in better shape," she continued.

"You're in fine shape," I said reassuringly. "Swimming just makes you use your muscles in a new way. You'll get better quickly, I'm sure. Besides, I tried to warn you that you'd be sore -- just wait until tonight. I'll be surprised if you can move!"

"Great…" Angel said sarcastically. "Now I have something to look forward to." She got back up slowly, "I'm going to take a hot bath and see if that loosens me up at all. I'll be out in a little bit."

"Take your time," I said. "That will probably help, and I'll try to finish this up while your doing it. Let me know when you're out, and I'll get a shower then."

"Sure thing," Angel yawned as she departed. 

I watched her perfect rear end sway all the way back into the bedroom. Even as stiff and sore as she was, Angel had one of those walks that gracefully swings the hips. You have to be shaped just right for that kind of walk to not to look stupid, and Angel was exactly that shape. It looked so natural and womanly when she did it that I decided I'd have to ask her to teach me. I needed a good dose of womanly charm if I was ever going to balance my naturally abrasive personality. I smiled to myself as I thought about that, and then returned to my English homework.

Eventually I finished everything that I needed to do and still hadn't seen Angel come out of the bath. The clock on the stove showed that over an hour had passed, and surely she couldn't have been in the tub for that long. The hot water wouldn't have lasted that long anyway. So I got up and went back into the bedroom.

The bathroom door was standing open a few inches, so I peeked in and saw Angel fast asleep in the bathtub with a washcloth over her eyes. Trying not to startle her, I knocked lightly on the door. Despite my effort Angel started suddenly, splashed, snorted, and said something largely incoherent about "fixed annuity".

"You okay?" I asked as she looked around bewildered. The washcloth had fallen off her face and plastered itself across the top of her chest. I could see that her nipples were as hard as they could be and that she was covered in goosebumps.

"Uhh…yeah," Angel managed. "I dozed off and now I'm cold. How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour, I would guess," I said as I walked in and then sat sideways on the toilet lid to face her. "Did soaking help your muscles any?"

"It did while I was warm, but now I feel all tight and sore again." Angel rolled her shoulders and flexed her legs as she spoke.

"You should try a hot shower then," I suggested. "The hot water should have regenerated by now."

"I think I will," she said. "Anything to warm up." Angel stood up and flicked the drain lever with her toe to let the cold bathwater out. I watched as the water ran off her chilled skin and dripped from her curves. She was so unbelievable gorgeous.

"Let me know when you're done," I said as I stood up as well and turned to go out the door. "I still need a shower too."

"Why don't you just get in with me?" Angel suggested off-handedly as she started to run hot water from the tap.

I turned back toward her and she wasn't even looking in my direction. I was pretty sure that she meant it just as it sounded -- a way to save time -- rather than anything else.

"Um… okay, as long as you're okay with it," I said.

"Like we have anything left to hide from each other," Angel snorted. "Besides, you've been waiting for me to be done for an hour." Then she climbed in and stood under the spray. "Ahhh… that's better."

I took a deep breath and briefly caught my nervous refection in the mirror over then sink. Then I stepped in after her and pulled the curtain closed.

Now that I'm older and I've seen my fair share of pornographic material, I understand that watching two girls shower together is a common fantasy image. That and pillow fights. I've never understood the pillow fights thing. Anyway, I can see how the shower would be an ideal fantasy situation -- big, bouncy, soapy breasts; wet slicked-back hair; "Here let me wash you now… oh my, the loofa slipped!"; etc. However, none of this actually happened. Sorry about that.

We had hugged naked. We had slept pussy to skin to pussy, breast to breast, nearly breathing each other's air, but for some reason I was petrified to be in the shower with her. I guess it was just because some of my most intense sexual experiences have happened in showers, and here I was watching her perfect femininity undulate in the spray a couple feet away. I just stood at the shallow end of the bathtub and stared at Angel like an idiot while the water danced off her body and the steam rose from her skin. I felt like my pussy was on fire. I wanted her so badly it hurt.

"What's wrong Elain?"

"I think I need to get out and just take a turn after you. I'm feeling kind of claustrophobic. Maybe it's too hot," I blurted and quickly stepped back out before Angel could argue.

I sat down on the toilet lid, which felt mercifully cool to my backside, and said, "There, I'll just sit here until you're done."

"Oh -- okay," Angel said, seeming as oblivious as always. For such a smart girl, she missed the unspoken signals frequently. "I won't be but a minute."

More like ten minutes later, she stepped out in her pink glowing glory and said, "All yours. I'm going to dry off and get started on my Statistics tables while you're in."

"Sounds good," I said and climbed in. I heard Angel leave the bathroom as I washed my hair and soaped my body. Then I couldn't resist any longer. I had to release some of my sexual tension or I was going to go nuts, so I let my practiced fingers go to work on my clit. Inside of two minutes I had a crushing orgasm and moaned my release as the contractions tore through me. Damn! That felt good.

"You wicked girl," I heard Angel purr and opened my eyes to see her peering around the curtain at me and grinning. "I came in to hang up my towel just in time to hear you cum. Why didn't you just tell me that you wanted to masturbate instead of making up the claustrophobia thing? I thought we were cool about this last night?"

It took me a second to recover from the shock of her sudden appearance and my immediate embarrassment. Then a cold wash of fear spread over me even as the hot water ran off my body. What should I say?

"Give me just a minute to finish rinsing off. We need to talk," I told her softly.

A flash of concern crossed Angel's face, but she closed the curtain and stepped out of the bathroom. I knew it wouldn't be fair to make her wait after what I had just said (and not said), so I rinsed off and stepped out no more than ten seconds later. I dried off quickly and walked out into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my hair.

Angel was sitting on the edge of her bed and patted a spot next to her. Instead I sat on the edge of my bed just opposite her. This way we were facing each other, but not quite close enough to touch. Angel read the meaning in my position and looked even more concerned. She started to speak, but I held up my finger for silence.

"I'll start," I said, and Angel's mouth closed silently. "First off, last night was very cool, and I have no regrets at all. I want to do it again -- often to be honest. Secondly, my discomfort isn't anything that you did or are doing. I think I have a problem though, and I think it's only fair that I talk to you about. The problem is mine though, not yours, so you can shut me down if you don't want to hear it."

Angel's expression softened slightly when I acquitted her (so to speak), but she leaned in toward me, rested her elbows on her knees, and said, "What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

For the record, I would like to note that this declaration was made all the more difficult by the very fact that my best friend was sitting across from me, naked, with her knees apart, and affording me an excellent view of her pussy through the space between her giant swaying breasts. Just so you, the reader, know this.

"I'm confused about my sexuality."

"In what way?" Angel said very seriously. She wasn't judging me; she just really wanted to understand.

"I think I might be gay.. or maybe not… or maybe both. I'm really confused, and I don't know how to feel," I said, accelerating my words as they spilled out. I almost never cry, but my eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"Hey, hey," Angel said softly. "Keep talking. No matter what, I'm not going to judge you."

"I don't know what to say. I don't know how to feel, or how I'm supposed to feel."

"Don't worry about 'supposed to' anything right now. Let's start at the beginning and take it step by step," Angel reasoned.

I realized that might be just what I needed. Take two girls who are used to thinking in numbers and formulas, and it's natural that we'd need to step through any problem logically to try to find the pattern in it. Then again, this wasn't a logical type of problem.

"Why do you think you might be gay or bisexual?" Angel began.

"Bisexual?" I asked, still choking back the floodgates. I didn't know the word.

"Yeah, sexually attracted to both men and women. It may even be as common as homosexuality -- I don't know -- but it's certainly not something new."

"I deduced the meaning, but I didn't know there was a term for it," I said. My tears were momentarily stayed, as my rational mind fought for control. I was silent for a moment until I realized Angel was waiting on me to continue.

"Well, why do you think you might be gay or bisexual?" Angel asked again, returning to the point.

And then the tears did fall, but at least they fell gently. I started at my first sexual experiences, and Angel just listened and nodded here and there.

"When I first started to masturbate, which wasn't that long ago, I used to do it in front of the mirror. I still love to do it that way if I get the chance. In the beginning it was a way to connect with myself -- to 'learn to love myself'. That's what I was supposed to do for some of my therapy, and in a very literal sense I learned to make love to myself.

"It sounds totally narcissistic, but I love to watch myself. When I'm fucking myself in front of the mirror though, it's like the reflection isn't really me. It's as if I'm watching this really sexy stranger get herself off, and it makes me cum too. She's so beautiful and free and unafraid to take what she wants, and I love her.

"Then one time right before I moved here, I was masturbating in the shower at the gym at home -- I used to do that a lot -- and I found out that there was this girl who had been watching me. She would sneak in when I was doing it in the shower, watch me, and masturbate too. Anyway, she revealed herself to me the night before I moved away.

"She was sitting on the floor in the entrance to the shower room, completely naked, and had her fingers inside herself. I stumbled onto her just as she was cumming, and it was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. She was very beautiful -- covered in steam from the shower, small breasts with big hard nipples, and her pussy was completely shaved. She had these really big eyes and full lips like a model, and when she looked up at me there was this intense expression of fear and want written all over her face. I remember seeing her pussy clench and her clit throb as she pulled her fingers out.

"She told me that she had been watching me and masturbating for a week and that she wanted me to know this and to see her before I left. It was like she was thanking me in some strange way, but what is marked in my mind forever is the image of this beautiful, naked, vulnerable, girl staring up at me with her fingers in her bare pussy and wanting me… wanting to see me, wanting to share herself with me, and… and I think wanting to touch me. I can't get her out of my head, and now I think that might be what I was always doing with myself in the mirror. I think I want to have sex with a girl.

"On the flip side to all that, an equally powerful memory is when I spied on those three swimmers. I came right there in the locker while the guy with the big cock was pulling on it only ten feet away. I came again later thinking about it and thinking about him masturbating while thinking of me. So I know I'm attracted to boys too."

Angel held up her finger to pause me for a second, "Can I ask a question?"

I sniffed and wiped my eyes. "Sure. Straight talk only right? I mean obviously?" I answered and tried to smile.

Angel smiled her natural radiant smile, "Rules of the house. Anyway, what do you normally think about or fantasize about when you masturbate?"

"Well, like I said, if I'm in front of the mirror I kind of fantasize about myself -- or rather the girl in the mirror. When I'm not, I sometimes just concentrate on how it feels. Other times I think about sex scenes I've seen in movies, or the swimmer boys, or the girl in the shower."

"So it's a completely mixed bag," Angel said.

"Yeah, but now it's a lot more complicated." I said and started to cry again.

"I know where you're heading," Angel said gently, "but you need to go ahead and express it. Don't be afraid."

"I -- I am afraid!" I said.

"I know, I know," Angel said. "I'm telling you not to be."

"I fantasize about you now. I want you; and to be there in the shower with you brought back the memories of that other girl; and all the times I've masturbated in the shower; and it was just too much; and I -- I think I'm falling in love with you," I said all in a rush. 

I put my face in my hands and sobbed like it was the end of the world. Now before you roll your eyes and label me a "drama queen", please remember here that I was only nineteen years old. I had very limited perspective on life, so it really did seem like the end of the world. I was afraid I was going to drive away my best friend.

Of course that's when the towel toppled off my head, pulled my hair as it unwound itself onto the floor, and scared the bejeebus out of me. I had forgotten I was wearing it. I squealed and beat at it like it was attacking me.

"Elain," Angel said chuckling, "look at me."

I looked up at her through the wet hair hanging in my face, and saw that she was smiling at me. She was holding her hands palms up at her sides, and her eyes were sparkling with laughter.

"I'm still here. I didn't run away or freak out or anything. I didn't hear any meteors hit, and the missiles are still in their silos," she said humorously. "Obviously the world didn't end." She must have read my mind.

Then more seriously she said, "It was okay to tell me that, and I have some things to say about it." Her smile never disappeared. "I should have seen this coming, and maybe I did but chose to ignore it. What it comes down to, I think, is that you and I have something you've never had before, and it's frightening and confusing to you."

"What's that?"

"We have intimacy. It's not the same as love, but it's powerful in its own right. That's not to say that you're wrong -- you might really be falling in love with me, but hear me out."

I nodded. The room seemed to have brightened and the overpresent doom of the previous few minutes seemed to evaporate. Angel was still my friend, and she still wanted to help me.

"I think I just fit your defined fantasy." She ticked items off on her fingers as she spoke, "I have a similar body to the girl in the mirror, i.e. you; I'm free; I'm unafraid; and I make you feel good about yourself. We talked about that last night. You feel sexy when we're together. So do I. What it comes down to is that we both are sexy, and we help each other see that and feel that by openly appreciating each other physically. That is feeding into your desire to be wanted. It really turns you on to be wanted, doesn't it?




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 03



"We've both also opened our hearts to each other. I've shared some of my inner self with you, and you with me. It's all happened quickly since you moved in, and it's been really intense. We have a genuine emotional connection. We have intimacy. That really is love, Elain. We've been friends since we met a few months ago, but now we're family.

"Admittedly I've probably pushed our physical intimacy past the point that normal friends or sisters would, but it feels so natural to hug you and to be close to you that it didn't occur to me that it was a problem."

"That's because I want it too," I said. "What you're saying makes a lot of sense, but when we've slept together and you've held me I feel so good and safe and fulfilled."

"Yeah, but that's your heart talking, not your pussy." Angel said bluntly. "You can love me without wanting to fuck me. So that leads to another question: do you? Do your body, brain, and heart tell you that you want to make love to me?"

"I -- I think so. I don't know, really. I love the way your body looks and the way it feels. You turn me on fiercely, but maybe it's not that I want to have sex with you so much as to share sex with you. Like we did last night. That was awesome, and it kind of gave me what I wanted. I got to share sex with you and feel loved by you afterward. I don't know -- I'm still confused. What does this mean Angel?"

"It sounds like you might be bisexual, but you're not certain about it. You know boys turn you on, but you've never been with one to see if you could follow through having sex. You know that girls (or at least certain girls) turn you on too, but you've not followed through to see if you can have sex with a girl either.

"Either way, who cares? Just let yourself be yourself. Don't fight with what is coming naturally to you or worry about what to call it. There's so much you don't know about yourself that it's kind of pointless to try to force yourself to fit into a box with a label right now, don't you think?"

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Of course I am," Angel said with mock consternation. Then she softened back up, "What I really want to get across to you is that no matter what you're feeling, whether it's about me or not, you can talk to me about it. That's what I'm here for. I can't think of anything you would say that would make me want to leave or make me want you to leave."

"Okay," I said and took a deep shuddering breath. "I need to ask you a couple things right now then."

Angel sat back with her palms up again, "Go for it girl. I'll answer as directly as possible."

"Do I turn you on?"

"Yes," Angel said with no hesitation. "I think you're very sexy, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do."

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"No," Angel said, also with no hesitation. "As far as I know, I'm completely heterosexual, but I enjoy sharing sex with you like you said, and we might push the boundaries of that a little -- as long as we're both comfortable with it. Right now I don't think I want to have a committed sexual relationship with you though, and that's the only kind I'm willing to have with anyone anymore. It's not that I'm not attracted to you either, so don't think it's that there is something wrong with you. I just want to be with a man.

"Who knows though? I've already admitted that you turn me on, that I feel really close to you, and that it feels natural to be physically intimate with you. My opinion about having sex with you might change. What I want you to understand though is that if you need to find a girl to fuck (or a boy for that matter) then don't let me hold you back. I'll even help you look! Somebody's got to watch out for you, you little minx!" She winked as she said it.

"Fair enough," I said. "That's another reason I love you. You always know the right thing to say."

"Actually I can't take credit for all this. I have an older cousin who is a lesbian, and she explained a lot of this to me for a psychology paper I wrote as a freshman. I have some trustworthy perspective on what it's like to be a gay woman thanks to her."

"Last question," I said, and Angel nodded. "Is me living here, us being naked all the time, and us sharing our sexuality going to be a problem while I try to work through this?"

"Not at all. None of this will be a big deal unless we make it a big deal. The less drama we put in it, the less drama there will be."

"True," I said and tried to shake off said drama. The world didn't stop moving just because I got horny looking at my roommate.

"In any case," Angel continued, "we have our standing agreement that if either of us is uncomfortable then she voices it immediately. Until either you or I do, then I'm not going to worry about it. Neither should you."

"Oh yeah, that's right. We did agree to that." I heaved another deep breath and glanced at the clock. The day was passing. I felt exhausted, but also as if a big weight had been lifted. "What do you want to do now?"

"I want to go shopping!"

"Why?"

"Because talking about all this has made me really horny and given me an idea. There's somewhere I've always want to go, and if I have you with me, I'll probably be brave enough to do it. Also because I think you need some cheering up."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said shaking my head. The gear change happened too fast for me to follow. "You're horny? Being horny makes you want to shop?"

"I'm definitely horny! Listening to you talk about that girl in the shower made my pussy all wet. I know you were pouring out your troubles at the time, but I couldn't help it."

"That's okay," I said, and grinned fully for the first time since we started our conversation. "It had the same effect on me."

"I was wondering if you'd notice that the room was starting to smell like pussy again, and that I was having no trouble saying pussy or fuck."

"I had not until you just mentioned it," I admitted. "What does this have to do with shopping though?"

"There's a store in the next county that sells sex toys. I've never been brave enough to go in by myself, but if you'll go with me maybe we can find some fun stuff to share?"

"Will they be open on a Sunday morning?"

"It wouldn't hurt to go see would it?"

"What about your Statistics homework?"

"Fuck it. It can wait. We're talking about a serious mission for the general entertainment and well being of the pussies in this house!"

"Fuck? Pussies? What kind of girl are you?" I joked. "Y'know something Angel? I think I'm a bad influence on you. You never talked dirty until you met me."

"Yeah well I'm going to badly influence you too then by taking you to a sex toy store and making you pick something out. I think you deserve it after what you've just had to go through."

"Deal," I agreed and bounced up off the bed. "I feel worlds better already. Come here," I said extending a hand to Angel.

She got stiffly to her feet. I had forgotten she was so sore, but I gently pulled her into a hug. "Thank you," I whispered as I embraced her, "for everything."

"I love you too little sister," she said, and I felt like a million bucks.

*****

I guess it took about an hour for us to get dressed, out the door, and the twenty-some miles to the "NiQT Den". No shit -- that was what it was called. It was also closed, or rather didn't open until two o'clock. Since it was only noon, we had two solid hours to kill and work up the nerve to go into the white cinderblock mystery with the mirrored windows advertising "Adult Novelties, Games, Leather, XXX Video, Smoking Accessories, Posters, and Notary Public". It was the last one that cracked us up.

"How on earth did you find this place?" I asked Angel as I stared at our reflection in the window and drummed my fingers on the top of the steering wheel.

"Carlos told me about it," she said, "which is honestly another reason I've never been here, because I never wanted to come with him."

It wasn't like the place was inconspicuous, but it wasn't clearly advertised either. You kind of had to know where it was if you were going to find it, which was probably the way our University liked it. Still, I bet the place was well known on campus.

"Well, what do you want to do for the next two hours?"

"Lunch?"

"Sold."

So we backtracked to our place, picked up Angel's Statistics homework, and camped out at our favorite café until it was time to head back. She finished her homework, and I got some reading done. Then twenty-some miles later, there were again in front of the mirrored windows. The only difference from before was that the small, red, neon OPEN sign was buzzing brightly.

Sorry to drag you through that whole odyssey, but what I wanted you to realize is that we actually went to a lot of trouble to go to this place. If you've never been in an "adult store" let me tell you that (assuming it is a higher-class one) there is nothing to be afraid of. It's in their best interest to make it a safe, fun, and comfortable shopping environment. Otherwise they wouldn't sell anything now would they? If you have been in an "adult store", then you'll know exactly what I'm talking about when I say that the first thing that hits you is the smell.

Angel and I pushed open the door and bravely strolled into the place past the "ABSOLUTELY NO PERSONS UNDER 18 ADMITTED" and "WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE" signs. It was brightly lit and very colorful inside, which was not at all what I was expecting. There were large displays, racks of merchandise, and bins of videotapes organized into every bit of free space. There was also a very odd smell that until that time I had identified with pool toys. In context though, it was the plastic packaging, rubber, and latex items that filled the store. Mingled with that was patchouli incense from the "Smoking Accessories" department over in one corner. No other place in the world smells like a sex shop.

"Good afternoon ladies," said a girl's voice from behind the counter. "You have that deer-in-the-headlights look of first time customers."

We turned and stared past the glare of the glass counter at a cute blonde girl about our age if not just a year or two older. She was wearing too much makeup and a really tight T-shirt emblazoned with the garish multi-colored "NiQT Den" logo stretched across her small breasts. I couldn't believe that she was running the store by herself, until I realized that one of the largest men I had ever seen was sitting calmly and silently off to one side of the cash register. He was so large that I had unconsciously categorized him into the rest of the décor before I realized that he was a person. He nodded slightly in recognition that we spotted him, but said nothing.

"Oh don't mind him," said the girl behind the counter. "He's just here to make sure I don't get too rowdy and bust the place up. Is there anything I can help you with, or do you just want to look around?"

Angel, always socially at ease in any situation, spoke for us, "We're just looking for something fun to play with."

"Will I do or did you mean some of our merchandise?" the blonde responded smoothly and leaned suggestively over the counter. Her patter was slick and well rehearsed. The big guy just rolled his eyes to let us know not to believe a word.

"We'll start with the stuff on the rack and let you know if we need you," Angel said, equally as smoothly and artfully inserting the innuendo. I just looked at her in wonder.

The blonde grinned to show she got the joke, "Wander where you will. You've got the store to yourself right now. My name's Kim if you need me, and I'll be right here watching you on the surveillance cameras."

We stuck together and wandered from rack to rack looking at the immense selection of everything sexual you could imagine. I saw S&M gear that I still don't understand, inflatable people, latex pussies, latex mouths, vibrators of all possible shapes and sizes, and more videos depicting more subjects than you can watch in a lifetime. We finally ended up together in front of a display rack of "lifelike" vibrators and dildos. To put it bluntly it was a huge display of fake cocks.

Angel pointed to one of the larger ones and whispered, "Jimmy."

"Wow!" I whispered back. "You weren't kidding." I pointed to one even slightly larger and said, "Pool boy… except of course he wasn't purple."

Angel giggled, "Damn, I'm jealous you got to see the real version. We might need to buy that!"

I laughed and pointed to the biggest one on the rack. "Why not go all the way?"

Angel snorted and said, "Because that would be impossible to fit."

"I don't know, I've had something nearly that size inside me."

"Bullshit! What?"

"A bedpost."

"Buuuuuuulllllll-shit! It would never fit."

"Actually you're right it didn't," I admitted, "but it was fun to try."

"And here I was worried that we'd have to get something small to get you started," Angel said, still giggling.

"Actually I already have a small vibrator at the house that I haven't showed you yet," I admitted.

"You sneak!" Angel said and thumped me on the arm. "I'll have to see it when we get back. At least that's one thing we don't need to buy."

"What do you want to get then?" I asked. The variety was dazzling, and I had no idea what would be good.

"I think I'd like to buy 'Pool Boy' there, unless you think it might be too much."

"Give it a try," I said. "At worst it will be a fun attempt and a little lost money."

"Okay, you twisted my arm," Angel said pulling it off the rack. "Wow, it's heavier than I thought it would be. Ouch, $30? It's also more expensive than I though it would be." 

"Is it still worth the risk for that price?"

Angel leaned in close to my ear, "I am seriously horny. My pussy feels like it's positively dripping, so I'm willing to pay whatever right now. Now you hurry up and pick something so we can go! I can't wait to get home and try this out." She was smiling like a canary-filled cat.

"I don't think I can realistically afford anything," I told her. "It's all more expensive than I thought."

"Who said anything about you paying for it? This was my idea to cheer you up. I'll buy whatever you want, so pick something," Angel said. She was intimidating when she got this worked up.

"I don't know what would be good," I responded. "I'm worried I'll choose something bad, and you'll be out a bunch of money for something useless."

"Have you ever had that same dilemma with the wine list in a restaurant?"

"I'm not old enough to drink."

"True," Angel said, she hadn't thought of that. "However if you ever wind up in that situation, always order the house wine. The restaurant chooses it for a good reason."

"Okaayyy… but what does that have to do with sex toys?"

"Permit me to demonstrate," Angel quipped. Then over her shoulder she called, "Kim? Can you help us for a second?"

"Sure thing," Kim said and came sashaying around the counter to where we were. She spotted "Pool Boy" in Angel's hand and raised her eyebrows, but did not comment. "Whatcha need?"

Angel swept her hand across the whole display like Vanna White and asked, "What's your favorite?"

Without pause Kim said, "Actually my favorite is over here." 

She led us around to the other side of the rack and pointed at a funky looking fleshy vibrator. It was mostly cock-shaped but bent up on the end like a kind of "J" shape. It looked like it held batteries in the bottom end like my vibrator, but it had variable speeds. The package showed a naked model with a rapturous look on her face and the text splash: "G-Spot Massager".

"Two batteries and a little practice, and you'll never leave the house again," came Kim's sales pitch. Then she leaned in close and asked us both quietly and seriously, "Do you know how to find your G-spot?"

We looked at each other then back at Kim and both shook our heads. I didn't even know what a G-spot was.

Kim held up one hand and made a circle with her thumb and index finger. "Imagine this is you -- lying on your back," she conspiratorially whispered. Then she took her index finger from her other hand, inserted it through the circle as far as it would go with her palm upward, and crooked the tip of her finger upward. "Your G-spot is right there where the tip of your finger will land. It's on the front wall of your vagina and will feel like a differently textured spot or a slight indentation. It's hard to reach by yourself because of the angle, but that's why they designed this doo-dad with a hook on the end."

I felt stupid, but I had to ask, "What happens if you touch your G-spot?"

"Things you've never experienced. They're very, very good, but I can't legally describe them in this store," Kim said mischievously. "Oh yeah, and if it feels like you really have to pee, don't worry. That's completely normal, and you will not pee. Something will happen, but you won't pee. Trust me -- you'll like it, but go easy with it the first time."

I had heard that before, and it made me smile. "Okay, I'll take it."

"You two might also want to pick up a bottle of lubricant."

"I don't think we'll need it," Angel said matter-of-factly.

Kim pointedly looked at the "Pool Boy" dildo and repeated sweetly, "You two might also want to pick up a bottle of lubricant."

Angel blushed, and I said, "Thank you. That will be fine."

"It's at the register," Kim said brightly and bounced off. "I'll add it in when I ring up the rest of your items."

Sixty-three (holy crap!) dollars later, and we had a brown paper bag full of the makings of masturbation mayhem. I think I broke the speed limit all the way home. Luckily we weren't stopped. Imagine having to resist answering the state patrolman in our situation if he were to ask, "So, where's the fire?"

*****

"Okay," Angel said as soon as we got home. "The packaging says that we have to wash these in soap and water before use. Do we have any C-size batteries for yours?"

"You wash them, and I'll go find batteries," I said. Who was I kidding? Nobody keeps C-size batteries around. Oddly enough though, I found a set in the old tape recorder that I'd brought to school to record lectures. I had never actually used it, so the batteries were new.

"Here we are," I said to Angel as I came out of bedroom. She was drying both toys at the kitchen sink. Watching her rub her big purple dildo with a dish towel struck me as hilarious so I burst out laughing.

"What?" Angel asked and paused in mid-stroke.

"Work it, baby -- work it!" I said between giggles. 

"I plan to!" she said grinning. "Yours is already dry, so go ahead and put the batteries in."

"Locked and loaded," I said ten seconds later. "Lets see if it works." I turned the red rotary control on the bottom and the G-spot massager buzzed to life. "Hell yeah," I exclaimed. "We have ignition."

"Well let's go!" Angel said and dashed off to the bedroom.

I followed her in and found her already flinging off her clothes. I watched as she peeled of her panties and saw that they were soaked.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked as I took the scene in. "I've never seen you get so worked up. You're the one I count on to be level-headed."

Angel stopped for a moment and said, "I don't know. I'm just about to burst, and the thought of being filled up by this has really gotten me going."

"Well I don't want to kill your buzz, but please slow down enough that you don't hurt yourself. He's a big boy."

"Okay, okay, I'll go slowly," Angel acquiesced. "Hey, why are you not naked and playing with your own toy?"

I began taking off my clothes as well and said, "I kind of wanted to watch you. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, sure that would be okay. Actually it gives me an idea. Do you think you could hold a mirror for me so I can see what I'm doing?"




Learning to Love Myself Ch. 03



"I'd love to," I said. "I'll go get my hand mirror from the bathroom." 

I did, and when I returned Angel was spread-legged on the bed and rubbing lubricant up and down Pool Boy. It was an illusion, but it almost looked like steam was rising from her pussy. I climbed onto her bed and sat between her legs with the mirror aimed at her pussy.

"Tilt it up just a little," Angel said. "There -- that's perfect. Wow! I'm really wet."

"And gorgeous," I added. "I've told you before, but you have a really beautiful pussy."

"Thank you," Angel said. "Let's see how accommodating it is." She took Pool Boy and awkwardly maneuvered his head to the entrance of her vagina.

"Is this the first time you've ever put anything inside yourself?" I asked as I tried to hold the mirror to help.

"Besides fingers and boyfriends, yeah," Angel responded. "This is hard."

"I learned the same way with my vibrator," I said. "Figuring out how to position it backward in the mirror is a trick. Once you get used to it, you can do it by feel though."

Three minutes later, Angel was still struggling with trying to find the way inside. She had moved beyond frustrated and crossed the line into pissed off. 

"What the FUCK?" she finally exclaimed. "I can't possibly be that tight, can I?"

"You must not be finding the right angle," I said. "It's so big that if you don't line it up just right, then it's just not going to go in. You look unbelievably sexy though! Would it help if I held the mirror differently?"

"No. The mirror's not really helping anyway. I can't really see what I'm doing because my hands are in the way."

"Would you like me to do it?" I asked without thinking.

Likewise without thinking Angel traded me the dildo for the mirror and simply said, "Please."

It happened so fast. She was horny and frustrated; I was horny and helpful. The next thing we both new, I was sliding Pool Boy slowly into her oh-so-tight pussy. It didn't occur to either of us that we had just crossed a line we had not crossed up to that point.

Sure I had fucked myself with a number of foreign objects, many of which I watched in front of the mirror, but this was something different. The pussy in front of me was not my own, and it was absolutely fascinating to watch the big purple cock squeeze into it. 

"Oooohhhhhuuuuunnnnnnhhh," was Angel's take on the whole thing. It took about five minutes of groaning, panting, and slow progress before Angel finally said, "No more. I can't take any more in. It's starting to hurt."

"You almost made it. Take a look," I said, and move my hands so she could see in the mirror. Sure enough, only about two fingers of width remained outside of her body. The end of the dildo (which had a flange on it that was supposed to suggest balls) twitched slightly with her heartbeat as her pussy clenched around the deeply held shaft.

"Wow…" Angel breathed. "I feel so full. I'm definitely at my limit though. No more is going to go in with out tearing me up."

"Does it feel good though?" I asked and once again took hold of the dildo.

"Oh, you have no idea," Angel moaned.

"How about this?" I asked tentatively, and I began to slowly withdraw the shaft from her gripping pussy. Once I got it about halfway out, I reversed and stroked it back in.

"Uhnnn…yeeeahh," Angel exhaled. "That's good."

I repeated the movement -- longer this time but just a slow.

"Uuuuuunnnnnnhhhh… more."

Pretty quickly I had a good, deep, slow rhythm stroking Pool Boy in and out of Angel's dripping pussy. My head was buzzing. My pussy was wetting the bedspread so much that I felt like I was sitting in a puddle. My senses were filled with pussy -- Angel's and my own. I wasn't scared. I wasn't ashamed. I loved every moment of it, and all I wanted to do was make my friend cum.

Then it finally occurred to me out of nowhere. I was fucking her. Obviously that wasn't a profound realization. I had been from the moment I put the toy into her body, but it didn't register with either of us.

"Angel? Is this too much?"

"No Elain, that feeeeeellls sooo gooooood," she moaned.

"I mean that it's me who's doing it. Is this something we shouldn't be doing?"

"Don't you dare stop, Elain!" Angel said, looking at me with wildness in her eyes. "Don't you dare. Fuck me! Fuck me with that big cock! I need it. Don't you dare stop."

I just grinned and obeyed, pumping the dildo into her and picking up speed. I was fucking my best friend, and I was determined to make her cum. Her breasts were so swollen that they looked like they were going to explode while she tugged on her nipples with both hands. Her hips began to buck against my thrusting and actually lift off the bed. I knew she was close, so I crossed yet another line. I moved one of my hands up the shaft of the dildo and stroked my fingers across her clit. 

It was the first time I had ever intentionally touched another person as an act of sexual expression. I can still remember in great detail exactly what her pussy felt like that first time. She was so, so soft. Even though the dildo was stretching her to the limit, her clitoral hood and the top of her lips were feathery soft. Her clit itself was firm and seemed to have an almost electric charge as my fingers grazed it. Everything was immensely wet and slippery from the dildo lubricant and her own excitement, and the heat that was coming off her was intense.

Angel's reaction to my touch was an instantaneous keening wail with the word "more" woven through it. So I used the backs and knuckles of two of my fingers to gently rub, shuffle, squeeze, and circle her clit as I continued to pump and twist Pool Boy into her grasping pussy.

It only took a matter of moments, and Angel began to cum. I could tell because she went rigid except for rapid jerks of her hips. I held the dildo still while she bucked on it and continued my ministrations of her clit as she crested the peak. She was now unabashedly grunting out "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" as her breath stuttered in time with her contractions.

Finally Angel slammed her thighs together on the whole operation and rolled over onto her side hyperventilating and accidentally knocking me backward in the process. Pool Boy was still stuck half-way inside her, but she had her legs viced down over it and I had lost my grip when I was knocked away. I didn't know what else to do, so I sat behind her and stroked her back while she fought for breath.

Eventually Angel rolled back over toward me and said rather hoarsely, "Well, I think that went well." She grinned and closed her eyes as her hand snaked down her belly and gripped the exposed shaft of her jelly friend. She withdrew it slowly with a soft moan and an audible sluicing sound. "Though I must admit, I should have gotten a smaller one," she continued in her spacey, raspy voice. "I think this is just a bit too much."

"You were incredible," I said gently into her ear. "Thank you for letting me do that."

Angel replied dreamily. "I don't know what got into me. Now I'm embarrassed at how carried away I got."

"Don't be," I said, sitting up. "It was wonderful to see you completely give in to your… to your… I don't know the right word. It was good to see you abandon yourself -- just let go."

"Yeah, well I don't think I had a choice. My pussy was running my brain, and not the other way around," she laughed quietly. "You okay? You look like you're not sure what to do with yourself."

"I'm not," I admitted. "After all that talk this morning about how confused I was, and how we were just going to share a little and maybe see how far it went without actually having a sexual relationship…"

"Yeah," Angel said. "I guess some of those boundaries just went out the window."

"I don't know," I said. "I feel like I took advantage of you -- made you do things you wouldn't have done if you'd had the time to think about them."

"Ha!" Angel retorted, now blushing deep red. "I keep leading you on and giving you mixed signals! On one hand I tell you point-blank that I don't want to have sex with you. Then a few hours later I beg you fuck me with a rubber cock. How are you supposed to feel when I don't give you clear messages?"

"I don't know, but I feel good! That was a really intense erotic experience. All I wanted in the world was to make you cum."

"Oh you did that all right! I can barely move. That was super intense, and I'm completely mortified." Her embarrassment was starting to crash in on her, and she was getting angry.

"But why?"

"Because I was just spread wide open in front of you chanting 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me' and giving you orders not to stop. I feel like I just made an ass of myself!"

"Look, don't be mad. Listen to the words coming out of my mouth: you were gorgeous and awesome and sexy and free and I wanted to please you. It's just you and me in our safe place. Don't regret giving in to it."

"But –," she began again.

"I touched your pussy," I interrupted. That shut her down. "I rubbed your clit and made you cum while I fucked you with this big dildo."

Angel's mouth worked silently, and I continued, "That was the first time I've ever touched another person in a purely sexual way, and I loved every second of it. Don't take this away from me, please Angel. Don't make me feel bad about it."

She was silent for a moment more, then, "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say 'Thank you Elain, that was great!' and just admit that you enjoyed it. Remember please that I don't judge you and that... that I love you."

"Thank you Elain. That was great. I just didn't expect to be doing it. I mean, I'm not bisexual. I just wanted it really bad."

"And there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not asking you to be bisexual, but I will take all of you that you are willing to share with me without wrecking our relationship. Remember that I've never had sex with another person, that I don't really know what my sexuality is, that all of this is new, and that I'm grateful to you for helping me discover myself. We're just playing and experimenting right?"

"Yeah… yeah about all of that."

"I promised you I would tell you if we did anything that made me uncomfortable before it became a problem. I was in that place earlier this morning, and you were wonderful and talked me through it. I'm just returning the favor right now."

Angel took a deep breath, "Yeah, okay. I'm sorry I went off the deep end there for a minute. I did promise that I would tell you if we were headed in a direction I didn't like, and you promised the same thing. I don't need to overburden all this." 

That did feel really good, and I did really want it. I just need to tell myself that it was okay for both those to be true. It's just in the heat of it, it made a lot more sense than now that I've cooled down some. I guess that's how it works though isn't it?"

"Sometimes," I replied. "Sometimes I frighten myself with what comes out when my inhibitions fall away."

"Me too. Can I ask you something kind of funny?"

"You have to ask permission?"

"Okay no, but anyway… do you think less of me now?"

"Certainly not. You continue to amaze me! I've always been impressed by your beauty, grace, charm, charisma, intelligence… everything. This is just a side of you I didn't know about before, and it's equally as awesome."

"Even I didn't know about the side of me that says 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me'! My boyfriends would have given a lot to know that was in there," Angel said and smiled her genuine smile.

"You've really jumped into the dirty talk with both feet, haven't you?" I said smiling back. The energy had changed back to positive again.

"Oh my god! I can't believe how much it turns me on. I really didn't expect that, but thank you for not laughing at me if I sound silly."

"You sound sexy, not silly. I think you're next boyfriend is in for a big surprise!"

Angel snorted in laughter as she thought about it.

"So," I said, picking up Pool Boy, "he's a bit too big? I don't suppose we can return him now."

"Yeah, I don't think I could take that on a regular basis. It was a bit overwhelming." Angel said. She was still lying next to me with her legs open and patted her pussy gently as she said it. "Maybe you should try it sometime?"

"I'd still like to try the one we got me," I said and pointed to it on the nightstand.

"Well duh!" Angel said. "I got so wrapped up in myself that I completely forgot. Do you want to try it now or is the mood killed."

"I could be talked into it," I said slyly. "I'm afraid I left a big wet spot on your bed while I was using your toy on you, but I've cooled down a little since then. I'll have to get turned back on."

Angel took a deep breath as if considering her words carefully, "Would you like me to use your massager on you or would you rather do it yourself?"

"I don't know," I said. "I could try it myself, but the idea of you doing it is a real turn on. I don't want to force you, though."

"Actually I want to. Obviously this is something I've never done either, and as long as we're being experimental I want to try it before I lose my nerve."

Angel rolled toward me and over me as she reached for the vibrator on the bedside table. Her body forced me down onto the bed and her heavy breasts dragged over my torso as she reached across me.

"Lie back and let me work," she said wickedly staring down at me.

"You are such a strange girl," I said, but nevertheless I lay back on her bed and spread my thighs for her. For the first time in my life, someone besides me was going to please my pussy. What was baking my brain was that it was a girl, and that girl was my best friend. I think way too much, you know?

"Why do you say that?" she said, positioning herself between my legs.

"You run hot and cold, horny to regretful, timid to adventurous…" I said. "I'm not making fun and I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you were right. You are sending me mixed signals."

"If you'd have asked me a week ago if I would be sitting between another girl's legs about to put a sex toy in her pussy, I would have called you crazy -- but her I am. Jeez a few days ago, I couldn't even say pussy. Now if you asked me week ago if I would also be considering swimming twice a day for exercise, I would have also called you crazy -- but that's on my mind too.

"When I broke up with Carlos, got this house, and especially when I invited you to move in with me, I made a conscious decision to be more adventurous. I feel like I wasted so much of my time on Jimmy and Carlos doing what they wanted that I never got to do what I wanted. Now if I want to swim, or cook, or buy sex toys, or eat ice cream, or whatever… dammit I'm going to do it! I want to be my own person for a while.

"As far as being sexual with you, I'm just as confused as you are. I know I'm sending you mixed signals. I know I said I didn't want a sexual relationship with you. I also know that you feel really good next to my skin. It feels natural to share my body with you. You make my heart feel good too, so it feels natural to share my feelings with you. You make me feel good about myself, even when I'm ridiculous. I've felt more free with you in three days' time than I have in years with boyfriends.

"I also feel like I owe it to you to help you explore your bisexuality. I don't know how far I'm willing to go, but I've already gone farther than I thought I would. I also feel like I owe it to myself to at least not deny any feelings that are coming to me naturally, whether they are bisexual or not. Practice what I preach right? So right now I want to do this for you and also for me."

Angel turned the rotary control on the bottom of the vibrator, and it hummed to life. She dialed back to the lowest setting and said, "Now, let's see if we can get you turned back on."

"You already have," I said. "That was one of the sweetest things anyone's ever said to me."

"Don't go all mushy on me now," Angel said mischievously. "I want you wet, not mushy."

That made me laugh out loud, so I put on my best 'bad girl' face. Taking a breast in each hand, I squeezed them and struck a spread-legged pose in imitation of the woman on the vibrator package. "I'm already there. Give it to me, baby," I mock snarled.


Angel laughed as well and gingerly placed the tip of the vibrator up to my opening. It felt really good, but she was unsure of how to continue.

"Here let me help," I said. "I have a lot of vibrator experience."

"Please," said Angel. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Just go slowly and do what I describe," I said and pulled my knees up to my chest. This spread my pussy and tilted my hips up so she could really see what she was doing. "Lay the vibrator lengthwise along my pussy and slide it up and down a little. That will help me get used to the feeling before we try to go in."

"Like this?" Angel said.

"Exactly like that," I affirmed. "That feels really good. It's bigger than my other vibrator, but I shouldn't have any trouble taking it. Mmmmm… just keep rubbing and stroking like you are."

"You look really amazing," Angel purred a minute later. "You're pussy is open to me and your legs are framing your tits. You look so wet and hot."

I was gasping a little by this point. I had been pretty horny all day leading up to this, but to finally be getting some attention on my pussy was heating me up very quickly. "I think I'm ready for you to put it in," I moaned softly. "Go slowly and work the tip in first."

"Wow, your pussy looks almost swollen Elain. I'll be gentle, I promise."

"Oh! angle the back end up a little more and you should have it," I added as she began to work the tip of the vibrator into my opening. Sure enough, even though the bent end felt really strange moving down my passage, the shaft slowly but smoothly slid inside my body. The device was slightly cool but heated up quickly in the liquid grip of my pussy. I squeezed down on the shaft and felt its girth inside me. The vibrations thrilled through my lower belly and into my pelvis and my clit began to throb for want of direct contact.

"Wow!" Angel exhaled. "That looks so fucking sexy. It just slid right into you pussy, and you gripped it the whole way in. This is so amazing to see from the outside. Do you want me to slide it back out?"

"Yeah, but go slowly. I think the idea is that the bend at the end will touch my G-spot when you pull it partway out. Ooooo… it feels really good now though."

Angel slowly retracted the toy and we both felt the tip catch on the front wall of my vagina. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a pressure I wasn't used to.

"Are we on it?" Angel asked.

"I don't think so," I said. "Lever it up and down a little and see if that makes a difference."

Almost as soon as she moved the back of the shaft down a little I cried out, "Stop! Oh my… right there. I think that's it!"

"What's it feel like?" Angel said almost in awe.

"It's different than anything I've experienced before -- hard to describe -- but it's like you're touching everywhere inside me by touching just that one spot. See if you can rub it a little."

Angel gently worked the back end of the vibrator in small circles. This felt amazing vibrating inside my vagina, but it was indescribable on my G-spot.

"OH GOD!" I yelled. "That's it. Keep doing that. Oh my god, that's so intense."

"Unbelievable…." Angel said. "You are unbelievably sexy."

"Can -- can I put my legs down? I can't ho-hold them up anymore," I panted.

"Be comfortable," Angel said and successfully kept contact with my G-spot while I lowered my feet to the bed. "Better?" she asked.

"Mmm-hmmm," I moaned by way of agreement. I could feel all kinds of orgasm starting to build inside me.

"Play with your tits," Angel whispered up at me from between my legs. "I'll please your pussy, and you play with your tits."