As
a little girl.
By
Mandy Carter
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.