Young masturbaing Girl learns the ropes. To be Coninued...
I watched the young men play football every Saturday at the local recreation center. We were always there as long as I can remember. My dad had coached little league baseball for over ten years. He did his best with the young boys, and I would sit there and pretend to read, although I spent most of my time glancing over the top of my book at young men tossing the football. You had to be careful not to get caught, because almost anything was a sin in lower Alabama’s Bible belt.
Why, I do not know. Even my father had his secrets and, coming of age as I was, I spent all the time secretly looking at his pornographic magazines. It was a strange time, I was learning about my young body and all its desires. It was a struggle of conscience, to the point that I masturbated by never touching myself skin to skin. I would lie there gazing at the sex and rubbing my young sensitive clit through my panties. My first orgasms were exhilarating, and I had multiple.
My curiosity turned into addiction, and I spent every available opportunity sneaking a peak any erotic material I could get my hands on. And as soon as I could get my hands on that material, I got my hands on myself. My masturbation grew into rituals. Every time I bathed and without exception, before I slept. Soon, I invented reasons to be alone, and anyplace, public or private; I would play with my developing body. It was only a matter of time before something happened, I see that now, but at the time my desires were too powerful and my young body- too demanding.
It was a cool day in early march, the little league season was fresh and new and the football season was over, but the guys were still managing a game. I sat as usual with a magazine and even though it was just your typical teen read, the semi erotic pictures already had my mind and body wandering. I tried to listen to my mother and her rambunctious friend Melinda talk about everything but sports, yet I could only hear my young womanhood yearn and glimpse the boys run their plays in their jogging pants.
I had never had a man or boy inside of me, and the glimpses of their young virile cocks swaying with their movement, gave way to a flood of desire and dampness to the point I excused myself to the nearest restroom.
I had my usual method, check all the stalls, lock my door, and quickly pull my pants down and expose my soaked panties. It only took a moment. I had done this countless times in the past. I just closed my eyes and immediately went into my own erotic dream world. Having not experienced anything in reality, I played out the pictures of my fathers books mixed with the faces of the young men on the football field. It only took light gentle strokes on my young clit, still through my panties, to send my mind, knees, and firm nipples into an erotic dance. I came hard and quickly, I thought. As my mind was clearing, with my young pussy still quivering, I saw someone standing through the crack of my stall. It was our life-long family friend Melinda. I sat speechless and there was a long pause before she spoke. “Better clean up before your mother comes in,” she said with a slight smile. Embarrassed, I struggled with my pants and simultaneously with the latch. “Joan,” Melinda said. “Calm down, unlock the door and I will help.”