It is that time in my life. So many questions. So many new alien feelings burning inside of me. Troubled dreams seem to haunt me, even in the daylight.
My mother went away so long ago I have virtually no memory of her. I don't ask my dad about her anymore because it always makes him sad when I ask about her. All I really know about her is that she is gone, and it's unlikely she will be back. She never calls.
My older sister is now away to college. She calls at least once a week and talks to both dad and I. But dad's always around when I'm talking to her so I can't ask her my questions. If I even knew what questions I wanted to ask.
Dad is no help. He's a dear and I know he loves me, but he just doesn't understand. Oh, he's good enough about being open and honest with me about whatever questions I put to him. Well, sort of ... I can tell when a question makes him uneasy for some reason. But he always does his best to answer me.
About a year ago my body suddenly started to bleed along with the dark of the moon, he assured me that it was a natural part of growing up. He did his best to explain things to me, then he did one better and hauled me off to see a woman doctor who explained the whole thing to me pretty good. At least the plumbing and how it works. But none of this addresses what I feel inside.
Sometimes I think I'm on fire inside. I feel a burning desire for ... I don't know. Still the dreams haunt me.
Darkness. I'm alone in my bed. Earlier my father tucked me in and then tenderly kissed my forehead. I waited in the dark until I heard him go down for the night himself. When I hear the rumbling of his snore make it through the walls I slip out of bed. The frilly gown he bought me slips from my shoulders. It's nice, but at the moment I don't want it on. I lay it on the bed and then push my panties to the floor as well. I don't want anything on.
A pure beam of moonlight shines through my window and leaves a small pool of light, just before my mirror. I find myself standing in it. The ghostly shadow of my body reflected by the long mirror. I find my gaze locked onto my body.
I turn this way an that. Seeing how the light traces my newly developing curves and bumps. All are gentle, except my hip bones are beginning to jut out. Those and the twin peaks upon my small breasts. Now little cones that beckon my fingers. I touch them and almost hurt inside. My tummy quivers a bit and I feel a strange warmth a bit lower. The view fades for a moment as my eyes drift closed. Then I am once again compelled to gaze upon the changes that have happened to my body in the past year or so.
The moonlight casts a light silver glow upon the fine hairs now sprouting at the apex of my legs. I run my fingers through it and again my tummy quivers. I find myself shivering a bit and -after casting a last glance in the mirror- I make my way back and slip into my warm bed. The sheets feel different upon my naked skin. I like it, but somehow the quivering inside deepens. I pull my pillow to me as a companion and slowly the quivering subsides as I drift away.
This has happened almost every night for the past month or so. I wake in the morning before my father and slip back into my night clothes. Except for the few nights during my period. I leave my panties on then, but my breasts feel strangely heavy and tender during that time. And a few nights before and after my period the quivering fire inside of me almost consumes me. I feel as if I will somehow burst into flames. I feel a longing like a hunger, but I'm not hungry. Now the moon is slim again and the banked embers inside of me are flaring all over again. I do my best to sleep.
Darkness ... Something is different. I feel a presence in my bed with me. I feel a warmth beside me that wasn't there when I drifted off. It's not my pillow. My pillow is never so warm and soft. There is the soft scent of perfume in my nose. I start in fear.
"Shhhh..." a soft, warm, voice reassures me.
The sound is comforting, but not fully. I don't recognize it.
"Who? What?" squeaks from my throat.
Again: "Shhh..." softly in my ear.
"It's alright ... I'm here to teach you." a soft, feminine voice says.
"To teach me? What?" I manage.
"About your body..." the voice replies in a soft, warm whisper.
"Shhh ... Close your eyes and feel." the voice whispers.
I do not understand, but for some reason I follow the command. Inside a million questions are stirring. Is it my sister come back early from college? My lost mother returned? I don't recognize the voice, but it is soft and warm. A bit husky.
My questions seem to vanish as I feel warm soft arms embrace me and pull me to her. Fingers softly rub my shoulders and back. I feel fingertips touch in places I can't reach and the soft stroking comforts me.
Each time I open my mouth to ask, somehow in the dark she senses it and I hear the comforting coo of her "Shhh ... It's okay".
The voice and the touch are so comforting my questions are forgotten. The fingers softly stroke my skin. Touching something inside me that has gone untouched before; The hunger. The one I feel when I stand naked in the moonlight before my mirror. Her fingers touch this hunger and somehow her fingers become my hunger. They softly stroke my skin and the embers inside of me kindle into a growing flame.
So soft, so warm, so comforting. Yet my pulse is racing in my ears. My breath becomes heavy and I find my whole body quivering as her fingertips trace my nakedness. I feel them now on the painful peaks of my breasts and the pain sharpens, yet deep down inside I know that only the touching will quench my fire. I moan softly as the fingers tease and softly squeeze me.
Other fingers trace softly over my bottom and tease the junction of my legs to the soft orbs. The fingers knead and tease and I quiver inside. I feel soft warm lips upon my neck as the fingers continue their journey.
"Yes..." as a husky whisper leaves my throat.
The word invites the lips to continue. They travel up behind my ear and I melt inside. Then they are upon my own, soft, tender and warm. I almost smack my lips in an automatic reaction to the kiss. But this is different. The lips do not leave mine. They linger and I hunger for them to linger. They tease mine and I find myself being taught how to kiss. The soft lips gently tug at my own. They slide around and then press warm and full. I feel the mouth is open upon mine and my own opens to match. A soft, warm, wet tongue touches my lips, then is quickly between them and gone before I can react. I want it back. It comes. My own touches it, tentatively at first, then more and more until our tongues are swirling about each others. Still the fingers tease and please me. Setting my skin on fire to match what I feel inside.
I feel a growing warmth between my legs. A low moan escapes my throat as the fingers trace over my jutting hip bone and follow the natural valley that leads to the soft fur between my legs. They tease it as they slowly twist and tickle the area. The hunger inside of me is as strong as I have ever felt it. The burning fire in my soul as hot as I have ever known.
The fingers tease and touch and prod the area as the burning lips upon my mouth consume me. Her tongue has left me for the moment, but my own extends to find it and invite it back into my mouth. When it returns my own welcomes it with a swirl and a moan. My nipples are on fire. My breath is ragged and heavy. I feel damp between my legs and I smell a tangy musk along with the heavenly smell of her perfume.
Fingers are in my hair, softly playing through it. I feel goose bumps behind my ears. Then the fingers tracing the soft fur between my legs continue and tease and stroke the soft skin inside the tops of each leg. My legs have opened to welcome the touch. My soft moan a further invitation for the fingers to explore me. The fire in my soul has taken control of my body and now it rages as an inferno inside and out. Then the previous flame pales in comparison as the fingers gently separate and trace between the lips between my legs. A jolt of white hot fire rebounds through my body as the finger brushes a throbbing nubbin atop my damp slit.
In the eternity of my gasp the lips have moved on; now again on my throat, descending. I'm on my back and the body arches over me. The lips travel over my shoulders and down to my breasts and my body releases another moan of encouragement. The encouragement invites the lips to my throbbing nipples. Inside, my body screams in satisfaction as I feel the warm wetness of her tongue swirling over a nipple as the lips spread and engulf it.
The lips and tongue work in conspiracy with the fingers teasing my gash to elicit another gasping moan from my throat. My other nipple is kept company by more fingers until the lips and tongue can pay homage to it. As the lips move to the other side, the hands change positions. The one from between my legs now swirls it's dampness on the nipple the lips have just left. The tangy muskiness mixed with her perfume becomes stronger. The fingers tease slickly over the nipple as the tongue bathes the other one.
The fingers now between my legs gently spread me and softly probe my aching center. Gently, so gently, they trace the edges of my maidenhead and find it's center. Now the tip of one slides slowly into me. A soft crying moan escapes my parched lips and the lips and tongue shift momentarily to quench my thirst as the finger slides inside of me. The fire inside of me has become a blazing inferno.
.... There is more of this story ...