As a little girl.

 

By Mandy Carter

[email protected]

 

Exhib, mast, g.

 

This is the beginning of a series of autobiographical sketches of my life. It begins with my awakening as a female and continues with focus on that part of my life until today. Once I catch up, I'll add more as I live more.

 

Somewhere around the age of 11, I remembered how much I loved being naked as a little girl, and began to forget my clothes whenever I was at home. Mom often corrected me and I would cover up for a while, but never for long, and never as much as she would have liked. I was becoming a happy, almost naked pre-teen.

 

Just before my twelfth birthday, I began to adventure outdoors, naked. It was just in the back yard, but it excited me, and I went naked indoors and out when I was at home alone.

 

A few weeks later, I was alone and it was after dark. As usual, I was bare assed and enjoying myself when I happened to rub myself between my legs. I noticed two things I didn't expect. I was wet with some sort of slippery stuff and it felt really good. I rubbed pretty hard for a while and got the most amazing sensation. It felt like I was burning with a chill and I tingled all over. I really liked it.

 

I'd gotten a little hot, so I ventured onto the front porch to cool off.  I kind of kept rubbing between my legs and found one spot that felt better than anything I'd ever felt before, and gave it a really vigorous rubbing. I got that feeling again, but better, and discovered that I had wandered almost into the street in front of the house.

 

Realizing where I was, still totally butt naked, an extra rush ran through my crotch. It felt sooooooo good. I wandered down the street a few yards. No one came out of their house and yelled at me, so I decided to go a little further. And, then a little further still. I was at the end of the block, and there was no one in sight and no cars moving on the street. I rubbed myself furiously, again, and it came back, all those wonderful feelings . . . only even better than before. There was slippery stuff running down my thighs.

 

I turned the corner and went a little further. In fact I went to the next corner, rubbing all the way.  And, it happened again. It just kept getting better and better and better and . . . you get the idea. So, I kept wandering on around the block, stopping every now and again to enjoy that really grand sensation.

 

When I turned back onto my street, I did get a kind of scare. A car came around the corner going the other way from me, and it was just luck that there was a big bush between us to keep me out of the headlights. I got scared for a few seconds, but I didn’t even slow down my rubbing, at all. It was around 10:00 when I went out, so it was pretty quiet, which is probably why I didn’t get caught.

 

I got that feeling one more time before I got home, and had to worry whether anyone had gotten home while I was out on my adventure. No one was there, although I wasn’t in the house five minutes before Allen came home, and Mom and Dad were not far behind. I was already in my room when Allen got home, and had taken a shower and was in bed with the lights off when Mom and Dad got home. No one saw me, but Mom came in and kissed me goodnight.

 

I learned later that what had happened to me was called an orgasm or a cum or a few other names. Whatever it’s called, I wanted a lot more of them.

 

Having had that much fun running around naked at night, I decided to do it some more, but do it in a way that I didn’t have to worry so much about Allen and my parents. I concluded that the solution to the problem was to wait until every one was in bed and slip out and do my naked wandering.

 

A couple of nights later, I did just that. It was past midnight, and very nice outside. I slipped out of my bedroom and snuck out the door to the garage, which had a door to the outside. Suddenly, I was outside and free, already rubbing my special spot. I went the other way this time, toward downtown, just a few blocks away.

 

It was really quiet, just like the first time I went out walking, naked. I couldn’t last a whole block without cumming. I was feeling great  and I just kept rubbing. And, then it happened. A finger slid into my hole. Wow, speak about something getting your attention. A whole new dimension had been added to my rubbing. I cummed so hard I almost went into orbit. The difference was massive. Boy, was I getting an education about fun things to do with my pussy (another word I learned later, along with cunt, clit, gash, slit, and whatever).

 

There I was, standing on the sidewalk, almost in downtown, feet apart and hunched over in sort of a half squat, working my cunt and my clit over so hard you could hear the squishy sounds a block away, or it seemed I was that loud, when two cars came down the street. The headlights lit me up like spotlights.

 

I couldn’t stop. I was cumming so hard that a bomb could have gone off on my head, and I would have kept on rubbing. For some reason neither one of them stopped. I don’t know if they didn’t notice me or just didn’t care. I just kept on rubbing and rubbing and rubbing, until I felt so good, I just sat down on the sidewalk.

 

I sat there a long time, but finally came to my senses and got up and walked on, still rubbing. I was enjoying a constant tingle in my tummy and crotch when I accidentally brushed one of my tiny new tits. BAM! I abruptly cummed. HARD! Whoops, another new thing to get me cumming. I was thrilled, really thrilled. I was also walking in front of stores. I needed to pay a lot more attention to where I was. I had walked into the downtown area, totally naked and busily rubbing my clit, tits, and cunt.

 

I ducked down a side street. It was still lined with stores on both sides of the street, and headed back home and out of the business district as quickly as I could, but not slacking off with rubbing myself.

 

I finally got back to a quieter street and began working my way home. I stopped every half block or so to cum some more. Eventually, I got home and snuck back to my room. I needed a bath. I stunk, was covered in my juices, seemingly from head to toe, and was sore. I sipped into the bathroom and filled it as quietly as I could. No one came in to check on me, so I guess I got away with it. I wasn’t worth much the next day, though.

 

A thing that probably saved me a lot of grief was my beginning my periods. They were horrible, painful, totally disabling, And I was the PMS bitch of the world. The upshot of this was my Mom taking me to our family doctor who put me on birth control, not the pill, but one of the long term, subcutaneous things that get replaced every five years. He didn’t trust me to remember to take the pills every day. I love him for doing the right thing for me.

 

Anyhow, I kept slipping out at night, three or four times a week. I loved it, and had so much fun. Until I was caught about a year later and I both did and didn’t enjoy the outcomes.