The first time it hit me we were on a picnic beside a large quiet pool at a bend in the Cedar River. He had just turned 18 and when he stepped out of his pants which revealed his swim trunks; my gut flopped, my heart skipped a beat and the spot between my legs felt like someone had tickled it on the inside. I could see the outline of his stuff bulging from the front of the trunks and I almost swooned. Never in my 16 years had anything like that ever happened to me before but what really surprised me is that I liked the feeling, a lot. I remember thinking I was glad I had bought a bikini, my first. I didn’t know when I got it why I wanted it but as soon as I saw him I knew; I wanted him to look at me the way I was looking at him. I watched his broad back and firm round ass as he waded into the water then dove in to swim. The tickle got stronger.
Mom yelled at me to help unpack the picnic so I was distracted for a few minutes. When the food was set out I looked for him again, he was standing near the river toweling himself. Again as I watched his muscles work, his body flex, my stomach flipped. What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t quite sure but I know it had to do with the shape and form of his wide shoulders, narrow hips and sports hardened legs and butt. He played football, basketball, tennis and baseball; all year round he was on some team or another. I knew that other girls thought he was hot but until that day I had no idea why, but I was learning fast.
I could hardly eat anything, I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, the buzz between my legs was too distracting. I had to put space between us so I went into the water over my mother’s objection “It’s too soon, you just ate.”
I heard a splash behind me and when I turned around he was swimming my direction under water. He surfaced with a spray and smile. My gut roiled and I felt the ends of my breasts tighten. He stood waist deep in the water “The water is perfect; race you to the deep part.” He paused while looking at my tits, “I like your new suit.” I glanced down and saw that the tips of my breasts were making obvious peaks in the thin material and he was staring at them.
“I was tired of the one piece.”
“If you wear that to a public beach you better be ready to do a lot of flirting.”
“Because it makes you look hot, that bikini is an overt flirt.”
I didn’t understand “Huh, a what flirt?”
“Overt, that means your aren’t hiding anything.”
I felt my face flush so I dived into the water to put distance between us but my mind was busy. He was looking at me ‘that way’! He followed me to deeper water; I was treading in the lazy current my toes barley scraping the sandy river bed. When he stopped in front of me again he whispered so nobody else could hear “And you should shave or something, some of your pubes are poking out.”
My mind shrieked, my embarrassment caused my heart to stop, my face to burn! I fled from him with a wild flailing of arms against the surface of the water. As soon as I hit the beach I put my shorts and tank top back on and spent the rest of the day avoiding him. The soft buzz between my legs had been replaced by a wish to die forever.
Two days later the buzz was back. I had taken a shower and for the first time in my young life I dared put a shaver to my body. I carefully trimmed my pubic triangle away from my legs and the edges of my body lips. When I was done I saw small traces of blood where I cut too close but I had only a small patch of hair. I never again wanted to be caught with hair sticking out of my swim suit. As I inspected myself in the foggy mirror I wondered what he would think of my new style. Thinking about him giving his approval caused my body to shudder pleasantly. I wondered briefly how I could get him to notice what I had done.
That night I woke up in a fevered sweat. I had been dreaming, my hand was jammed between my legs, under the thin material of my underwear, my chest burned with heated blood. I came awake just as my fingers slid across that tender spot at the top of my crack and my stomach started to cramp. I almost doubled in half but the cramps didn’t hurt, the pleasure I felt was nothing like I had ever experienced before. I heard myself moaning as I gasped for cool air. Even though it never happened to me before but I knew that I had just had an orgasm. As I drifted through the afterglow of my climax I remembered what I had been dreaming; I had shown him my trimmed body and he approved. My hand lingered, stroking my pussy lightly as I thought about him.
For the next few months I studied him whenever he was near. I didn’t have any more dreams about him but sometimes I got that exciting little hum between my legs by thinking or looking. I had learned that massaging myself could send me over a very pleasant edge so I quietly brought myself to orgasms late at night. We went to the river four more times and each time I wore my bikini and secretly hoped he was watching me. Every time we were there I would notice him checking my breasts then my crotch, maybe looking for more hair? I made sure he had opportunities to look.
Summer was over and we started back to school, he was in the last grade I had two years to go. The first day on the bus he sat with Marilyn Creidy and for some reason I almost flipped out. I got mad, sad, restless and decided I hated the blonde bitch. It was wrong, it was irrational, but it was the strongest emotion I’d had since the first day I wore my bikini. I wanted to throw myself into the small gap between them on the two person seat. And I couldn’t figure out why I felt like that.
He announced one day that he was taking Marilyn to the movies then the mall food court. I thought my heart would slam to a stop. I got dizzy then when I recovered I started plotting how to keep him from dating her. What could I do that would make staying with me more alluring or necessary than hanging out with the bobble headed, no ass, fake blonde bimbo, the only thing she had going for her was a reputation for being easy.
If that was why he was seeing her then I had to respond in kind. If he wanted sex then I resolved to give up my chastity to him. As soon as I thought it, I knew what those feelings were that I had been nurturing all summer. I knew in a flash what I wanted. I wanted him. I wanted him with me, not her. It was a revelation to realize that all those nights thinking about him were in fact blatantly sexual, I never before admitted to myself that he turned me on or I wanted him that way.
.... There is more of this story ...