Chapter 13

My pajama bottoms, along with my tangled panties still inside them, lay discarded on the bathroom floor where I had cast them aside in my haste to get them off. I sat on the front edge of the toilet seat, bent over, staring in the mirror that I held between my spread legs, at the reflection of my pussy. I was now interested in that part of my anatomy that gave me so much pleasure. Mrs. Russo had taught me about the clitoris. But what other magical parts did I not know about? Maybe I should have let Mrs. Russo show me hers and guide me through all the parts.

I pried my labia apart to see what lay hidden, pulled on the spongy lips, stuck a finger into the hole, and even stretched the hole with two fingers to look inside. But nothing mesmerized me as much as that little pearl of pleasure. I stared at my clitoris in the mirror wondering how something that small could cause such large explosions.

Once I discovered my clitoris, I was hooked. Nothing could have felt better. But Mrs. Russo was right. Often it was too sensitive to touch directly. I learned that after vigorously rubbing it to multiple orgasms. But at the moment, flicking my wet finger over it while staring at it in the mirror sent sparks flying. Each flick was a jolt. But what she had taught me, squeezing the hood between two fingers and sawing them, brought on powerful orgasms as well. The clitoris didn’t have to be touched directly. I assumed I had accidentally been doing that, but now I was able to direct my movements to maximize the pleasure.

I tried to remember what Mrs. Russo’s pussy looked like. I had seen it up close, but at the time I hadn’t been focusing on what it looked like. I had been fixated on Mr. Russo’s cock sliding in and out of it. What I remembered most were her lips clinging to his cock, stretching out on his backstroke and folding inward on his thrusts. Her pussy had no hair, but how else was it different than mine? Her inner folds hung out a little. When I wasn’t prying mine apart, it was just a tight slit. But the two sides of her slit didn’t touch like mine. And I stared at my hole in the mirror. Hers had to be bigger. My finger barely fit in mine and Mr. Russo’s cock was a lot bigger than my finger, both in length and girth.

I put the mirror on the sink countertop next to the toilet and leaned back. No more exploring. It was time for pleasure. My fingertip stroked that special spot. The tingling began and the moisture accumulated. I dipped a finger into the wet hole to moisten it and then rubbed a little harder. I pinched the hood between my thumb and forefinger, in effect squeezing my clitoris without touching it directly, and a jolt shot from my groin straight to my belly where the butterflies flapped wildly. While pinching it, I moved the two fingers up and down. I was so glad to have learned about the clitoris. I knew just where to touch.

With my head tilted back against the wall, I exploded. I panted for a few minutes and, after recovering, I was able to go to bed and fall asleep.

The next day in English class, Joey smiled at me when I sat down. “Can you date yet?”

“You keep asking me that.”

“Because I’m waiting for a yes.”

“No, not yet. My parents are really angry.”

“Okay, I’ll keep asking,” he said with a smile that melted my heart.

Joey had been asking me almost every day. Debbie and Gina were jealous, especially Gina. Debbie because no one had asked her out and Gina because she wasn’t allowed to date, not that a boy had asked her. I wanted to go out with Joey again, but was afraid to ask my mother. My mother had lifted the part of the punishment that prevented me from seeing my friends. I didn’t want to risk her ire and have her change her mind about that.

When I got home from school, I asked my mother, “Can I go out?”

“It’s a school day. You have homework. Your friends too.”

“I was thinking of seeing Wanda.”

My mother’s eyebrow rose. “What for?”

I was ready for that. “I like her. We’ve been talking and I like her.”

“I don’t want you bothering her.”

“She said I could come down anytime. She said she could use the company. She spends all day alone with the baby.”

“Yeah, I remember those days. I remember speaking baby-talk to grown-ups without even realizing it.” My mother giggled. “Okay, but be back for dinner. And you’ll have to do your homework after dinner. No TV until your homework is done.”

I agreed to everything and was soon standing outside the door to the apartment below my house. When it swung open, Mrs. Russo was holding Suzy who wasn’t screaming this time. The baby had her head on Mrs. Russo’s shoulder with her thumb in her mouth. Mrs. Russo looked surprised to see me.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked.

“I just thought I’d come down to say hello. My mother said it was okay.”

“I’d love the company.” Mrs. Russo patted Suzy’s diapered bottom. “I was about to put Suzy down for her nap. You can change her diaper.”

My face scrunched up. Mrs. Russo laughed and lifted the baby high into the air so that Suzy’s bottom was above her tilted back face. She sniffed.

“Don’t worry, it’s just wet. No stinky doody in there. Come on in.”

I went in, dropped my coat in the living room, and followed Mrs. Russo to the baby’s room. She laid Suzy on the changing table, holding her still with a hand on her belly until I got into position. Then she watched me change the diaper, reminding me to pull the diaper away from Suzy’s skin when I attached the safety pins. When I was done, she inspected my work and smiled at me.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” she said.

I was beaming as I lifted Suzy off the table and deposited her in the crib. I was walking away when Mrs. Russo said, “Forget something?”

My smile faded as I stared at the baby. The diaper looked snug. Suzy looked happy and even gave a big yawn. I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand and draped the cover over the baby. Mrs. Russo made a grunting sound so I studied what I had done. And then I saw the binky. I quickly put the nipple into Suzy’s mouth and she started sucking on it immediately. Mrs. Russo patted me on the shoulder and we went into the living room.

“Would you like coffee?” Mrs. Russo asked.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Milk?”

“No thanks.”

We sat in silence for a few moments and then Mrs. Russo asked, “How’s school?”

“Okay.”

“Any boys you like?”

“There’s one. He’s a senior. We went on one date, but I’m not allowed to date anymore until my punishment is over.”

“What are you being punished for?”

“I lied to my parents. Didn’t tell them I was going on the date. And I got caught.”

“How about teachers?” Mrs. Russo asked. “I had a big crush on my Art teacher in my first year of high school.”

“You did?” I leaned forward. I thought I was the only one. “Wasn’t he old?”

“I guess, but he was hot.”

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Did you tell him?”

Mrs. Russo studied me. She smiled. “So there is a teacher you like.”

I blushed to confirm it.

“No,” Mrs. Russo said, “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t know back then what I know now. And when you’re fifteen or sixteen, five or six years older than you seems a lot, but then when you’re older you realize it’s not. But soon afterward I met Don and we became a couple. Then I only had eyes for Don.”

“If you knew then what you know now and you hadn’t met Don, would you have told your teacher?”

Mrs. Russo slid closer to me on the couch and took my hands in hers. “Even if I knew what I know now, I would still have been scared. Aren’t you always scared when I teach you something about sex.”

“But I do it.”

“And do you regret doing any of it?”

I blushed. “No.”

“Then maybe I wouldn’t have regretted it. Who knows? But I can’t go back in time.” She squeezed my hands. “Is your masturbating better now that we had our little talk?”

I blushed bright red. My cheeks were on fire.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mrs. Russo said. “Are you just rubbing your clitoris or do you put anything inside?”

I looked down and said softly, “My finger sometimes. To get it wet.”

“Nothing else?”

I looked up at her in shock. “I haven’t been with a boy that way!”

“I meant while masturbating. Like the handle of your hairbrush.”

“Oh god no!”

“You’d have to wash it first so you don’t get an infection, but it can be very pleasurable.”

I stared into her eyes to make sure she wasn’t teasing me and then my eyes dropped to my lap. Putting my hairbrush inside me? My finger was one thing, but a hairbrush?

Mrs. Russo squeezed my hands until I looked up. “You saw what I have in my end table,” she said. “Where do you think I stick them?”

“Why do you need them?”

“I told you, sometimes Don isn’t around.”

“I mean, why not just rub your clitoris?”

“When you put your finger inside, does it feel good?”

I nodded.

“That’s why,” she said. Mrs. Russo hesitated a moment before asking, “Would you like to try one?”

“I can’t! I’m smaller down there than you?”

“Honey, your vagina stretches. How do you think I shoved Suzy out?”

I was trembling. Not from arousal. I was scared.

“I have different sizes,” Mrs. Russo said. “You can use the smallest one.”

“I don’t know how?”

“I’ll show you. Like I showed you everything else. You can stop at any time.”

“Why are you—? How come you’re doing this?”

“That’s a fair question. It must seem weird to you to have a married woman show you these things. It’s because I didn’t have anyone when I was your age. I had urges that I think you have but didn’t understand them or know what to do about them. I was very frustrated and it affected my schoolwork. I couldn’t concentrate. You were much further along than I was at your age. I was afraid to touch myself down there. I thought I’d go to hell if I did. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t concentrate in school. I was a wreck. You asked me why I didn’t tell my Art teacher how I felt. There’s no way I would have back then. It was unthinkable. It wasn’t until I was dating Don that we learned about sex. And he didn’t know much either. Thankfully, a lot of it comes naturally. But I missed out on a lot because I didn’t have someone like me to help me. Does that make sense?”