Chapter 2: Self-Examination

Sex.

That was the problem.

Katherine wasn’t naive, she knew what sex was. At least, the mechanics of it. She’d had ‘The Talk’ with her mother when she was little, she’d had the period assembly with all the other girls in her old school. She knew why bits of her went in and other bits of her bulged out.

But the idea of people actually doing it, actually being that intimate with each other, just seemed unreal to her.

It was like dinosaurs.

Katherine knew they existed. She’d learnt about them in school and she’d seen them in movies and museums. But the idea of, say, a brachiosaurus munching on the tall fern growing outside her bedroom window seemed inconceivable.

Sex was a completely different world to her.

But tonight she was determined to take her first step into that world and see just what it was all about.

“Okay...” she sighed softly to herself.

Katherine and her mother lived in a small apartment on the top floor of an old converted Edwardian house. It was tiny and simple, and it didn’t really feel like home yet, but it did the job.

In Katherine’s bedroom, either side of an old fireplace, were two large, built-in closets. And it was into one of the mirrored doors on those closets that she was now staring.

What do you see when you look at your reflection? Katherine asked herself. Not what others see, or what you think others see anyway, but what do YOU see?

Just a girl, just a naked young woman looking unsure what to do with herself. Apart from the long red hair (and the freckles and pale skin that came with it), just an ordinary person that nobody would look twice at.

She wondered what was just so different between her and the four girls she spent her lunch with earlier. They had all sorts of different body types, hair colours, skin colours, everything. And they were sexually active, so why wasn’t she?

Okay, thought Katherine, not the right mindset. That way leads depression. Let’s try this again. What would a lover see when they look at you?

This was an odd question. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen herself without any clothes on before, it was tricky to have a shower without seeing at least something. But she’d never looked at her body sexually before.

With nervous, shaking fingers, Katherine raised her hands to her breasts, giving a small squeak of shock as her cold palms touched her warm skin. She felt the tension in her flesh as her nipples started to harden and she smiled softly to herself. Even in her lowest moods, when her self-esteem was at its lowest, she’d always been proud of her bosom.

Call them ‘tits’, Katherine. she scolded herself. Call ‘em ‘boobs’ or ‘knockers’ or something. You’re not in an old-fashioned romance novel, after all.

Fine. Katherine’s tits weren’t small but they weren’t so large she faced a future with back problems either. They were just the right size and shape for her body. And just the right size for her to cup with her hands as she did now. She laughed quietly under her breath at the sight of her mirror-self almost, but not quite, hiding her nipples beneath her fingers. They were almost painfully erect, standing out proud from the pale areolas.

Funny how I can never pronounce that word properly. Even now I still get embarrassed when buying aioli in the supermarket.

Distracted by the memory, she absentmindedly closed her fingers together, squeezing both nipples between them. A thrill like electric fire shot through her, leaving her skin tingling and her pulse frantic.

Quickly Katherine pinched her nipples again, pulling them at the same time, and found the sensations were so intense she couldn’t stand up straight. Not just pleasure, it was something more, something so overwhelming her mind couldn’t cope with it.

Was this something the other girls felt? Did they touch each other like this? Did they squeeze each other’s firm boobs, pinch each other’s aching nipples, and make each other moan in agony at the sheer intensity of it all?

Oh, thought Katherine, they must do more than that. If they actually did have sex, if they actually did fuck, then there must be at least one other body part they played with. She reluctantly released her grip and, pausing only to marvel at the red marks she’d left on her breasts, she slowly slid her fingers down her body. Down over her ribcage and over her stomach. Slowly, but inevitably, towards her womanhood. Down towards her, now very, wet and desperate sex.

Katherine felt as if her body was on fire. Her heart was pounding hard against her sternum and her mind was racing as fast as her breathing. Was this how sexual people felt all the time? What else had she been missing out on?

And then her fingers made contact.

The feelings Katherine had experienced earlier, that sheer physical wall of pleasure, had been but a mere echo of the sensation she felt now. As the little, ring and middle fingers of both her hands slipped across her warm and moist outer labia, her index fingers found themselves brushing against her straining clitoris.

She couldn’t help it. Just that slight touch, just the most minute mote of pressure, made her cry out in ecstacy.

Katherine froze. She stared in horror at her reflection as she tried to hear anything past her bedroom door.