I’m seventeen now and, having had to work it all out for myself, I wasn’t about to let my little sister, Faith, go through all the guilt, confusion, and fear that I’d suffered when I was her age.

My parents were strict Catholics and Faith and I had both been sent to Trinity High School, a single-sex Catholic School.

The sex education there was minimal, to say the least, and it was taught by a nun. Looking back on it, that made no sense at all, seeing as they’re all celibate.

She told us that intercourse was a wife’s duty to her husband, and he could do it as he saw fit, but only for the purpose of making a baby. It was made clear to us that any other form of sex was ‘bad’ and ‘sinful’ and would earn you a place in hell. When you’re told all that at a young age, it naturally makes you scared to death of the whole thing.

I probably should have had ‘the talk’ with Faith when she started puberty, when she was about twelve, but to be honest, I just kept putting it off; I really wasn’t looking forward to it.

I was prompted into action when I caught her washing her own underwear one day; that was something I’d done myself.

Like everybody else, I’d discovered at a very early age that touching myself felt good, but that pleasure was drowned out by the feelings of shame and guilt that had been drummed into me, so I’d just stopped myself from doing it.

When I got older, about fourteen I think, it was the dreams that were the problem. I would sometimes wake up sweating and trembling, feeling wet ‘down there’, and wanting desperately to touch it, but knowing that that was the way to hell.

The smell on my sensible cotton panties after one of those dreams was not unpleasant, but I certainly didn’t want my mom to find out about it, so I would rinse them and hide them until they were dry, before putting them in the laundry basket. I was convinced that I was the only person in the world with this problem and the guilt and shame consumed me.

I first got an inkling that all was not as I had been told one day at school when I was in the toilets. I was just finishing up when I heard someone go into the stall next to me. I was faintly upset that they had chosen that cubicle; all four had been empty when I’d come in, and I’d chosen the end one. By unspoken etiquette, they should have gone into the one at the other end.

I hurried to get finished, dabbing not wiping, as I had been taught by my mom many years ago, but what I heard from next door was not what I was expecting: there was a rhythmical creaking. I was curious more than anything else and stayed even after I was done. The creaking stopped but I could still hear heavy breathing. It went on for a few minutes and then the breathing got more rapid and I started to hear a soft moaning. I listened, fascinated, until a smell wafted under the door. It was familiar, and then I recognized it as terrifyingly reminiscent of my own nocturnal emissions. I instantly thought I understood what she was doing! In school no less! And only about two feet away from me! I left the cubicle immediately, shaking.

I was washing my hands when I saw the door open in the mirror: It was Sharon Wheeler. She was two years above me and looked flushed but strangely happy.

“What are you looking at?” she asked me aggressively. “Like that wasn’t what you were doing too!” The fact that she thought that I had been doing the same as her horrified me and I guess that must’ve shown on my face.

“God, you weren’t were you? Have you ever even done it?” The expression on my face must have given it away. “You poor little thing, you don’t know what you’re missing. Everybody does it, you know.” It was her last statement that astounded me.

“How do you know everybody does it?” I asked her.

“The internet, silly,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. We had the internet at home but my father was the only one with the password, and everything had to go through him.

Suddenly she grinned wickedly. “I could show you if you want,” she said, and she nodded back toward the stall she’d recently vacated. I gasped out loud, and I felt the blood rush to my face as I ran for the door, her laughter loud in my ears as I went.

I was very confused. Sharon had a bit of a reputation, and I knew for a fact that she was constantly being punished for rolling her skirt up, so maybe I shouldn’t be taking advice from her. On the other hand, if she was right, and what I was feeling was relatively normal, that could change everything.

The next day, as I approached her in the corridor, she smiled at me. I was surprised, she had never acknowledged my existence before, but I smiled back uncertainly. As she passed me, she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand. Not wanting to look at it in front of everyone I just put it in my pocket.

I didn’t read it until I got home and into the safety of my own bedroom. It was an article from the internet entitled ‘20 Things Every Girl Needs to Know About Masturbation’ and it was from a magazine so well known that even I’d heard of it. I read it with a growing sense of both excitement and anger. I won’t reproduce the whole article, but the headings of the sections that most struck a chord with me were these:

3. It’s totally normal

5. It doesn’t make you a bad/weird/gross person

7. You might have an orgasm

13. You can masturbate and still be a virgin

16. You can use some toys as well

19. You can do it every day

I read it through twice, and on the second read through I had my hand pressed between my legs; for the first time in my life, I felt aroused without the accompanying crushing feelings of dirtiness and shame. It was like having a huge weight lifted from my shoulders and I felt years of tension flow out of me. I didn’t understand all of the article, and I had no idea that I had something called a clitoris or a vagina, but I intended to find out, and soon!

That evening seemed to drag on interminably. Eventually, I could wait no longer and I went to bed complaining of stomach cramps: a sure way to get instant acceptance with no unwanted questions. Just to be sure, when in my room, I threw my jumper against the bottom of the door to slow down anyone trying to come in.

I put on my night dress but, for the first time ever, I had no panties on under it! I was trembling already from excitement and anticipation. After years of basically fearing my own genitals, I decided that I would embrace them, figuratively at least.

I sat up against my pillow, pulled my nighty up around my waist, and let my legs flop wide open. In another first, I looked carefully at my own genitals. I thought they looked pretty nice. There were no diagrams in the article, but, reading between the lines, I thought that what I was looking at was my vulva.

I stroked my fingers over it and shivers went up my spine and my trembling intensified to the point that my hand was actually shaking. With some trepidation, I gently stroked a finger along the soft folds of my slit and I felt goosebumps rise all over my body. The sensations that my finger caused were wonderful, and I sat there for ages just delighting in them. When I felt a wetness on my fingertip I became a bit bolder, slipping the finger deeper between my lips.

The urges were building in me and I had an overwhelming desire to push my finger in deeper, so I did, and I felt dizzy with the waves of pleasure that it caused; I was sure that I’d found my vagina. Pushing my finger inside seemed to release even more fluid and that familiar smell, that had worried me so much, was strong in the air. I decided, in my new spirit of discovery, to cherish it. I raised my fingers to my nose and breathed deeply. I thought it smelled nice but in a way that was very hard to describe: faintly sweet, maybe a bit earthy and even sweaty but in kind of a good way. I guess it smelt of me and I resolved to love it. I even thought about licking my finger but figured that was maybe going too far.

There was a spot higher up that had felt particularly tingly when I had one of ‘those dreams’. I’d never dared to investigate further but now it was tingling again and I wanted to find out more. I touched on the spot and pressed gently; it felt amazing: sort of throbby and achy. I carefully parted my lips and saw a tiny little pearl that I thought must be the clitoris mentioned in the article. I touched it with my fingertip and gasped; it was so, so sensitive, too sensitive! I had preferred just putting pressure on it. I put my hand between my legs and crossed them, trapping my wrist hard against my clit. It felt wonderful. I wasn’t sure what an orgasm felt like but I found it hard to imagine it was better than this. I rolled on my side, pulled the covers over me, and just lay there for ages, gently moving my arm from time to time, reveling in these new and wondrous sensations until I guess I must have fallen asleep.

From time to time at school, often when I was least expecting it, Sharon would whisper exciting but shocking snippets into my ear. Things like: “Did you know you’ve got a gorgeous little ass?” and “Tiny little boys nibbling on your nipples.” and one time “Imagine how it feels to have your pussy licked.” They would leave me dazed and unable to concentrate on anything else for ages. One of the nuns asked me where my head was at during one of them and I turned bright red and had to run away. One day she said to me: “You can have a lot of fun with an electric toothbrush.”

I snuck my toothbrush out after I had brushed my teeth that night. I knew it was possible that Sharon was messing with me, so I took it all very slowly. I didn’t fancy using the bristles so, at first, I just ran the back of the head over my vulva. It felt delicious so I moved it onto my lips. Wow! She wasn’t joking, it was amazing! In no time at all I was soaking wet and that made it feel even nicer.

My clit was incredibly sensitive so I was very cautious, and I just barely touched the skin over it, but that alone nearly blew my mind. I felt an intense tingling in my clit that just kept getting stronger as I slowly applied more and more pressure. Then I think it must have touched directly onto my clit, because the tiny explosions I had been feeling became one huge one that seemed to fill my whole body. It was an incredible feeling and I started crying I was so overwhelmed with joy. It was by far the single most beautiful experience of my whole life so far, and about five minutes later I did it again!

The very next day at school I sought out Sharon and stood a short distance away as she chatted with her group of friends, trying to catch her attention. Finally, they drifted away and she came over to me, I gave her my very best smile.

“Did you find that helpful, Vicky?” she asked me. I was so overwhelmed with gratitude to her I couldn’t put it into words. I stood on tip-toes and tried to kiss her on the cheek but, at the last moment she turned her head, and I ended up kissing her on the lips; my very first kiss that wasn’t a member of my own family!

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispered in my ear and she stroked my bottom briefly which made me shiver all over.

“Make some excuse to be late home tomorrow and meet me by the gates after school. I think you’re ready for some advanced lessons.” She gave me another little kiss and then wandered off leaving me trembling but very, very happy.

I hated lying so I told my parents an honest but incomplete version of the truth: An older girl at school had offered to help me with a subject that I was getting behind in. There was a bit of a discussion but in the end, they agreed that I could be an hour late home.

Sharon didn’t keep me waiting long, just as well because I was almost exploding with excitement. As we walked along we chatted, well Sharon chatted, mostly being rude about the teachers at school. She used some very bad language and I tried to join in, but I wasn’t very good at it; something she found very funny.

When we got to her house she let herself in and then shut the door behind us.

“So Vicky, have you ever wanted to do it with a girl?” she asked me, with a gentle smile that I’d never seen on her before. The thought had never even crossed my mind before, but now it did I found it very exciting. She didn’t wait for me to answer though. She put her arms around me and kissed me. If I thought we’d kissed before I was wrong. She opened her mouth and slipped her tongue into mine. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to do the same. Our tongues fought a delightful battle and it was as if we were trying to devour each other.

Our bodies were pressed hard against each other and I could feel her breasts rubbing against mine, while our legs were intertwined and her leg was pressing against my groin, it all felt new and utterly wonderful to me. When we finally came up for air I was breathless and shaking. I could feel the now familiar wetness in my vagina. If that had been all that had happened that night I would have gone home a very happy girl indeed, but it wasn’t.

I wanted to touch myself badly. No, I thought with a huge thrill of excitement, I wanted Sharon to touch me!

She smiled fondly at my obvious arousal and took me by the hand. She led me upstairs and into her room where she sat me down on her bed.

“I think you’re going to like this,” she whispered, putting her hands up my school skirt and pulling my panties off. “just lie back and enjoy it.”

She gently spread my legs and then kneeled between them before flipping up my skirt.

“God you’ve got a pretty little pussy, Vicks,” she said softly, and I could feel her breath tickle me, and it made me shake even more. My mind was racing, was she really going to kiss me down there? I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I felt her lips brush over my vulva, planting tiny kisses all over it. It was gorgeous and I was in heaven, or I thought I was, because next she planted a firmer kiss right over my clit, and it was as if tiny explosions were going off inside me.

Then I felt her tongue seeking out my clit and she licked it. I heard myself squeak, and I grabbed her head and pulled her face against me. Seemingly of their own volition my legs left the floor and spread wide, waving manically in the air. When I felt her lips close over my clit, and she started to suck on it, all of a sudden the pressure that had been building and building was released in huge waves of pleasure. I dimly heard someone screaming and it was a while before I realised that it was me.

“Oh baby, you needed that didn’t you?” I heard Sharon murmur from between my legs as she kissed the outside of my pussy ever so gently.

I felt a warm wet tongue lick along the length of my slit before Sharon leaned over me and kissed me deeply on the mouth. I could taste myself on her lips and tongue and that was the moment I really started to love the taste of my own juices.

We kissed for ages, and she slowly undressed me completely as we did. Then she kissed me all over as I lay on the bed limp and satiated and gloriously happy. When she started to remove her own clothes, suddenly, some energy returned to my limbs. She was gorgeous, her breasts were full and round and her pussy was utterly bald. I only learned later that she shaved it, at the time I thought it was some wonderful quirk of nature.