Thursday, April 20, 2006
The Magazine
Thanks for being patient with me while I have been busy lately.
GNDTX
She put down the magazine and thought back a moment considering what she had just read. Had it been that long? She assumed it had and wondered with that same lame phrase, "Time sure passes quickly," that everyone seems to mutter when they notice their age.
She checked her watch, adjusted her shirt and tried to pass the time in the doctor's office. The millions of shabby magazines cluttered the waiting area; mostly non-sense that would be better used as shredded insulation in a gerbil cage. The latest issue of Women's Wellness had an article about, mmm, dare she read it, masturbation.
It could have all been summed up in a few simple words, "Why didn't I start doing this years ago and ignored the stigma attached to it?" At 29 this wasn't such a big deal. She could remember the first time she had her first self-pleasure session, the first time she nearly passed out masturbating, and the first time she felt guilty helping her boyfriend achieve the same pleasure.
She slowly grinned and remembered the red bra and panties she wore to help him out of his "slump". The slow dance in front of him and the slight tease of a show she mustered to help his ego and arousal. That set was long gone, but so was the boyfriend. And then it occurred to her, "Who has a slump at 21?" The grin grew larger.
But that article reminded her of how silly it was to be 16 and think she was "dirty" "smutty" "cheap" or "over-experienced" just because she wanted to learn about her body.
Her high school boyfriends NEVER knew she did that. But then again neither did her parents, pastor, prom date or best friend. She waited a long time to lose her virginity. That was something special; not a party gift for her prom date.
But the self pleasure was an experimentation into what was really going on. She felt sad for the girl who wrote the article being raised to think anything "down there" was bad or dirty. And over the course of a few years she had become quite the scientific human laboratory of pleasure.
If felt good to be quiet, to be loud, to be rough, to be soft, to be slow, to be fast, in the morning, in the evening and even once in the stall at work. Of course that was on the almost vacant floor in the lady's room that had one stall and a locking door.
The mad rush of adrenaline and endorphins were not for toss-away lovers. They were for her and a special man that loved and cared for her.
The magazine article floated back into her thoughts. It wasn't like she couldn't wait to rush home, but it was on her mind. When her time in the office was up, the nurse said she was free to leave since there were no symptoms to the shot. The magazine was placed carefully on the corner of the table in neat fashion as she was no slob or person of little respect. "Mother didn't raise a slob," she thought.
But there was something she had never done before. Something literally illegal. It was daring and had a certain flare. The question posed itself on the way to the car. "Why not on the drive home?"
Hmmmm, yes, quite the debate. The drive home was without heavy traffic, and usually without distraction. Could she keep her concentration and use Mighty Mouse? And there you have it, the name of her tiny vibrator. It fit over her index or middle finger and was fearless!
She unlocked her import mid-sized door and settled herself for her adventure. Reaching into her purse she found her car keys and ignited the fire, in more ways than one, and retrieved the small faux lipstick case housing her fearless friend.
Fortunately, she was decked in knit workout pants which gave a nice comfortable stretch for yoga and lounging about for everyday errands.
She tuned on her Sirius radio to something like adult contemporary mixing GooGoo Dolls and Nickleback and an occasional Kelly Clarkson. She slipped her friend on her right middle finger and felt the small pulses begin.
The hardest part would be the initial venture past the elastic waist band. But after that it was a matter of time, pleasures or comforts.
Her hip moved a little to zero in and then she settle with her left hand on the wheel. She slid past the lycra of her lacy thong and found a good spot to start.
Slow at first and not too rough. The sensation was good and she couldn't help but feel a bit mischievous at the same time.
She said to herself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," and quickly followed by taking a deep breath and sucking on her lower lip to ease the nervous energy.
Her morning shave was still holding up and the tender skin was warm and slightly wet by now. She straightened and adjusted her shoulders and occasionally checked the rear window and beside her to make sure she was not being ratted out.
She pressed harder and felt her legs tingle and knew she might have to pull over or find a side street to finish. Aberdeen Street was the next right and she took it and pulled in front of an Arts and Crafts home with a large sweet gum tree. With a little difficulty she placed the car in park and continued.
Her hips rocked and swayed with each stroke. It reminded her of her secret to learn her body and learn herself for herself. She felt wet now and liked the sensation her friend provided. She reached under her t-shirt with her left hand and unlatched the front snap on her bra exposing her chest to the 100% cotton shirt.
Her nipples were way past hard and she felt them each. A soft caress of her hand made shorter work of her adventure. The music was helping the mood and she kept going.
The circles felt best today. Some days it was up and down motions, other days it was directly inside and some days it was both inside and out. Her research had brought confidence and that dispelled the fear and the anxiety most women felt, but right now all she felt was good. Like chocolate, like spring, like kissing, like sunshine and like happiness.
She swirled both her breasts and her clit and found how easy it was to reach that pre-rush state. Her head pressed hard against the head rest and she took the last deep breath and felt that exotic pleasure rush over her. She sighed and exhaled and slowly opened her eyes.
Her daughter's wipies were within reach and borrowed - no took - two to freshen up. She turned off the radio and sat in silence admiring God's creation as well as his excellent design of the female form. She put herself back in order and decided it was time to move on.
The car was put in drive and she pulled out passing the park with the small baseball diamond and the ancient metal merry-go-round type ride for kids to spin on.
She chuckled as she thought of how her body must have just gotten off that ride as she drove past house after house.
She wondered about the secrets women keep. Was she alone in her self exploration? She wished she could take in a sexually-not-quite-developed teen and teach her that her body was ok to experiment with; don't use it as a weapon or as something to barter for fake self-esteem; and, above all, find out that you are ok just who you were made to be. But the Wisteria Laner's would just think of her as a mommy-perv, so she drove on.
She thought to herself the words of the old poem and she said to herself, "But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
GNDTX
She put down the magazine and thought back a moment considering what she had just read. Had it been that long? She assumed it had and wondered with that same lame phrase, "Time sure passes quickly," that everyone seems to mutter when they notice their age.
She checked her watch, adjusted her shirt and tried to pass the time in the doctor's office. The millions of shabby magazines cluttered the waiting area; mostly non-sense that would be better used as shredded insulation in a gerbil cage. The latest issue of Women's Wellness had an article about, mmm, dare she read it, masturbation.
It could have all been summed up in a few simple words, "Why didn't I start doing this years ago and ignored the stigma attached to it?" At 29 this wasn't such a big deal. She could remember the first time she had her first self-pleasure session, the first time she nearly passed out masturbating, and the first time she felt guilty helping her boyfriend achieve the same pleasure.
She slowly grinned and remembered the red bra and panties she wore to help him out of his "slump". The slow dance in front of him and the slight tease of a show she mustered to help his ego and arousal. That set was long gone, but so was the boyfriend. And then it occurred to her, "Who has a slump at 21?" The grin grew larger.
But that article reminded her of how silly it was to be 16 and think she was "dirty" "smutty" "cheap" or "over-experienced" just because she wanted to learn about her body.
Her high school boyfriends NEVER knew she did that. But then again neither did her parents, pastor, prom date or best friend. She waited a long time to lose her virginity. That was something special; not a party gift for her prom date.
But the self pleasure was an experimentation into what was really going on. She felt sad for the girl who wrote the article being raised to think anything "down there" was bad or dirty. And over the course of a few years she had become quite the scientific human laboratory of pleasure.
If felt good to be quiet, to be loud, to be rough, to be soft, to be slow, to be fast, in the morning, in the evening and even once in the stall at work. Of course that was on the almost vacant floor in the lady's room that had one stall and a locking door.
The mad rush of adrenaline and endorphins were not for toss-away lovers. They were for her and a special man that loved and cared for her.
The magazine article floated back into her thoughts. It wasn't like she couldn't wait to rush home, but it was on her mind. When her time in the office was up, the nurse said she was free to leave since there were no symptoms to the shot. The magazine was placed carefully on the corner of the table in neat fashion as she was no slob or person of little respect. "Mother didn't raise a slob," she thought.
But there was something she had never done before. Something literally illegal. It was daring and had a certain flare. The question posed itself on the way to the car. "Why not on the drive home?"
Hmmmm, yes, quite the debate. The drive home was without heavy traffic, and usually without distraction. Could she keep her concentration and use Mighty Mouse? And there you have it, the name of her tiny vibrator. It fit over her index or middle finger and was fearless!
She unlocked her import mid-sized door and settled herself for her adventure. Reaching into her purse she found her car keys and ignited the fire, in more ways than one, and retrieved the small faux lipstick case housing her fearless friend.
Fortunately, she was decked in knit workout pants which gave a nice comfortable stretch for yoga and lounging about for everyday errands.
She tuned on her Sirius radio to something like adult contemporary mixing GooGoo Dolls and Nickleback and an occasional Kelly Clarkson. She slipped her friend on her right middle finger and felt the small pulses begin.
The hardest part would be the initial venture past the elastic waist band. But after that it was a matter of time, pleasures or comforts.
Her hip moved a little to zero in and then she settle with her left hand on the wheel. She slid past the lycra of her lacy thong and found a good spot to start.
Slow at first and not too rough. The sensation was good and she couldn't help but feel a bit mischievous at the same time.
She said to herself, "I can't believe I'm doing this," and quickly followed by taking a deep breath and sucking on her lower lip to ease the nervous energy.
Her morning shave was still holding up and the tender skin was warm and slightly wet by now. She straightened and adjusted her shoulders and occasionally checked the rear window and beside her to make sure she was not being ratted out.
She pressed harder and felt her legs tingle and knew she might have to pull over or find a side street to finish. Aberdeen Street was the next right and she took it and pulled in front of an Arts and Crafts home with a large sweet gum tree. With a little difficulty she placed the car in park and continued.
Her hips rocked and swayed with each stroke. It reminded her of her secret to learn her body and learn herself for herself. She felt wet now and liked the sensation her friend provided. She reached under her t-shirt with her left hand and unlatched the front snap on her bra exposing her chest to the 100% cotton shirt.
Her nipples were way past hard and she felt them each. A soft caress of her hand made shorter work of her adventure. The music was helping the mood and she kept going.
The circles felt best today. Some days it was up and down motions, other days it was directly inside and some days it was both inside and out. Her research had brought confidence and that dispelled the fear and the anxiety most women felt, but right now all she felt was good. Like chocolate, like spring, like kissing, like sunshine and like happiness.
She swirled both her breasts and her clit and found how easy it was to reach that pre-rush state. Her head pressed hard against the head rest and she took the last deep breath and felt that exotic pleasure rush over her. She sighed and exhaled and slowly opened her eyes.
Her daughter's wipies were within reach and borrowed - no took - two to freshen up. She turned off the radio and sat in silence admiring God's creation as well as his excellent design of the female form. She put herself back in order and decided it was time to move on.
The car was put in drive and she pulled out passing the park with the small baseball diamond and the ancient metal merry-go-round type ride for kids to spin on.
She chuckled as she thought of how her body must have just gotten off that ride as she drove past house after house.
She wondered about the secrets women keep. Was she alone in her self exploration? She wished she could take in a sexually-not-quite-developed teen and teach her that her body was ok to experiment with; don't use it as a weapon or as something to barter for fake self-esteem; and, above all, find out that you are ok just who you were made to be. But the Wisteria Laner's would just think of her as a mommy-perv, so she drove on.
She thought to herself the words of the old poem and she said to herself, "But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
