Julia M.   view profile 

I remember how I got absolutely crazy about sex. It must have had a lot to do with hormonal reorganization of the body, because it all passed after my periods became regular.

I do not remember exactly how it all started. But there was a period when I really wanted a man like crazy. Any man. I wanted sex with a man badly, not even knowing exactly how it all was supposed to happen. I looked at any men I met as a potential lover. Everything in men interested me - clothes they wore, the way they looked, the way they were built. Especially I was interested in what they would look like without clothes. Prominences in front of their pants attracted me like magnet. Stealthily, I was trying to take a better look at them and imagine what was hidden behind.

After school I would not go home, but would go search 'for adventure'. On my way I would scrutinize every men I met, sometimes even smiled at them ingratiatingly, if they happened to return my look (they did not understand why I was smiling I guess). It is embarrassing to say now, but I considered it to be the best of luck when I happened to bump in some drunk pissing at the fence - so that with a corner of my eye I was able to see some hardy distinguishable from a distance, but nevertheless so exciting details.
But most important for me were my fantasies. While I strolled along streets, my brain was making up endless fantasies, built around men I saw on my way. Here is one of them.

I got into some kind of emergency situation (lost in the woods, train derailed, or even a plain crashed). Only myself and the man (somebody I had just passed by) survived. There is snow everywhere, and it is freezing like hell. The man says strictly: 'To survive we have to warm each other with our bodies. So, let's take our clothes off and get into the sleeping bag.' And I obey him, take my clothes off, get into the bag, and press the whole of my body tightly against his. I put my arms around him, touch his buttocks with my hands, feel his belly, legs... My imagination could not quite picture what was supposed to be below his belly. It was just something resilient, big, hot, inexpressibly exciting... I spread my legs and squeeze it with my thighs...
My daydreaming absorbed me so much, that I no longer saw things around me, and could easily get run over by a car. They (fantasies) were being born as I walked. Here a handsome man passes me by. I deviate from my way immediately and follow him for two blocks. Making up another story on my way that could happen to me and him under given circumstances.

We are passing by an abandoned garden where I can see a shed roof behind the trees. I imagine that the man stopped right there and is now waiting for me to come closer. He looks at me strictly and says: 'Let's go.' Takes me by the hand and leads through the garden to the shed. I go with him obediently. There is brushwood all around and nobody sees us. 'Take your clothes off!' he commands. I strip to my panties, but he demands implacably: 'Take them off!'
I do it rigid with fear and excitement. He scrutinizes me for long time. Then undresses himself. Comes closer to me, takes me in his hands and presses my back against the warm wall of the shed. I embrace him, stroke his back, his butt, his legs and for long long time, tightly tightly we press and press and press against each other...

I swear, I was in such a state that if at that moment any man had told me to do something like that indeed, I would fulfill his orders without a second thought. I was ready for anything, but nobody knew about it... I would come home beside myself, my panties soaking wet. I dried them secretly on a radiator, behind the curtain. Hardly able to do any homework - fantasies still spinning in my head...
Then it all ended somehow when my periods became regular. But some things still remain: 3-4 days before my periods start I become aggressively horny indeed.

Lera F.   view profile 

I tried to repeat those sensations many times after. Sometimes, when my memories became vivid I even tried to squeeze something with my legs. I tried many different objects - toys, bottles, flasks, my own hand. Even crawled on my back to a table leg once, and pressing my pussy tightly to it, joined my thighs together. But nothing worked.

Apparently then, on the rope, the effect was achieved because of a certain strain of muscles in a special position, plus, probably the fear of height added to it. Simple masturbation? I tried. Nothing particularly interesting came out of it. I would have reached the effect if I had been more patient. But I thought everything should happen like then - immediately and acutely.

Only in about a year, I 'got lucky'. From time to time I heard a word 'vibrator' mentioned in conversations of other girls and boys - apparently with dirty connotations. They meant a dildo, but I grasped at the idea. We had a vibrator at home, more precisely it was a back massager. It was a rather small, about 10 cm high rectangular garget. One was supposed to put in on the floor and lie down with one's back on it. It was usually sitting in the corner of the room.

Once, when parents were not around, it came over me again, I remembered the word 'vibrator' and decided to try. Pulled it to the middle of the room, set on it and switched it on. I settled myself to a better position and pressed tight to the vibrating surface. For some time I felt nothing but vibrations. Then, suddenly, I got it going. Not as acute as on the rope, but perceptible enough.
The sensation started where I touched the surface and rose higher, to my belly. I could control it. I could make it stronger if I pressed myself tighter and enveloped the vibrator with my thighs, or make it weaker changing position. The best it felt when I swayed on it rhythmically.

To tell you the truth I did not feel ashamed or frightened. I was really happy that I finally was able to find what I had been looking for so long. So, I went on investigating the details and peculiarities on my discovery thoroughly, and most of all I was worried that somebody might interfere and spoil the fun. In half an hour I got used to the sensations and they did not seem strong enough to me. So, I switched the vibrator off, took off my track-suit pants and my panties and remained only in a T-shirt.

The excitement of being naked gave me a new splash of emotions. Squatting over vibrator, I opened my pussy lips with my fingers, pulled them aside, spread them on the varnished surface and pressed myself tight, as if kissing it. When I switched it back on, it responded with powerful energy charge right at my clit. I practically knew nothing about clitoris then and was not ready to it. The sensation was unexpected and overwhelming. Literary in a few minutes it swallowed me completely draining out all my strength. I felt as if melting from below, like a piece of butter on a frying pen. That was how I was - spreading out and hanging powerlessly on the vibrator.

Everything that happened next was very fast. Having made several rhythmical movements I got the first orgasm, and a couple more after that. That day was unforgettable in amount and strength of the new sensations. The rest of the day I was pretty much aloof, so that even my mother started asking questions worried. After that I arranged 'high days' for myself not too often, but often enough. It would have been hard to sustain if I had done it too often, also I had to be home alone for that.

Once there was an incident I still remember with embarrassment. It happened when father went to garage, and I decided to use the occasion. Sitting as usual in a short T-shirt only, that hardly covered my butt and pubis, with eyes closed and hands clutching at by breasts, I was swaying on the buzzing vibrator, already on the threshold of orgasm. Because of the noise it was making, I did not notice when my father got back, he forgot the keys. Having opened my eyes for a moment I saw him standing in the doorway right in front of me. Most embarrassing was that I was in such a state that I could not already stop what I was doing. I was stronger than me. I only stared at him begging desperately, biting at my lip, and could not let go, get 'unstuck'. I basically came as he watched me. That was when he finally turned around and left for the kitchen.

I have to give him credit, he behaved like a gentleman, I am grateful to him for that for all my life. He pretended that nothing happened. He never reminded me that he had seen me, not in a single word or even a look, did not change his attitude a slightest bit, did not say anything to mother (cannot imagine how she would react). As time went by it even started to seem to me that nothing happened. But first week or two I avoided looking him in the eye, and, of course, did not touch the vibrator. Later, I resumed, naturally. Could not already live without it. Just became more cautious.

Nika R.   view profile 

I experienced the first desire to have sex already after I had lost my virginity. It was true love and it was mutual. Strange, but sometimes when you are in love you become awfully shy to express your emotions.

That what exactly the case, we would walk all day long with my beloved, look at each other with rhapsodical eyes, but talked of absolutely different things. Neither he, nor me dared to talk of 'feeling' or, God forbid, sex. Although, we both were already sexually active at that time.
So, in such a state we were sitting on a bench on the boulevard, talking about some book, and I was looking at him and 'melting'. I was looking at his hands, his hair, neck, inhaling his smell, and wanted him like crazy. Really wanted, to the point of cramps and pain in my belly. But I could only watch and listen. Or, to be exact, I pretended to listed, because all I was able to think of was he, his body and intimacy with him.
My answers became more and more absentminded, and he, seeing that I was not really following, stopped talking perplexed. There was awkward silence, we were looking each other in the eyes. The look of his was rolling and pitching me like a boat on waves. And here I heard somebody saying in a hoarse voice: 'Fuck me!' Only in a few seconds did I realized that I said it myself. His response was his huge dumbfounded grey eyes. He only asked: 'Are you sure?' I could only nod my head (I felt awfully embarrassed).
It was noon. Summer, heat, Petersburg's fuss all around. We were in the middle of the city. He stood up and went to search for 'a place'. In about fifteen minutes he was back, took me by the hand and lead into the depth of lanes and courtyards. We went into the entrance of some old building, and settled under the stairway, among the piles of trash on the floor. Not the best sanctuary, but we did not care.

I pulled my panties down, he unbuttoned his pants. He entered me from behind, easy and confidently. Though, there could not be any difficulties whatsoever, I had been fully 'ready' an hour ago. Sex gave me incredible joy, I wished it never ended. For the first time I was moaning with pleasure (good thing nobody was passing the stairs at the time).
This was how, in unsanitary conditions, under the stairs, even before the first kiss, occurred the act of our love. But I was happy! Love does not depend on schedule, but on the feelings!

Sonia R.   view profile 

Everybody who can remember summer vocations at the end of childhood, would agree that apart from dolls, puppies and touch-last and lots of other things, there was sex as well. One thing did not interfere with another, the secret and the obvious never really overlapped.

When my friend Natasha came back after a month in a summer camp, she told me that they had 'felt each other' with other boys and girls. I understood what she meant, but nevertheless asked her for explanation. She said they touched each other everywhere. I asked what she meant by everywhere. She said boys touched girls' tits and pussies and they touched boys' cocks.
I began to feel hot in my vagina, I even felt my vulva a kind of twitching, as if muscles contracted. I became short of breathe, my sight grew dim and I started asking some stupid questions, just to hear her talking of the dirty and shameful. But Natasha said she had to go, that her mother was going to Moscow that night and I could come to her place and we could watch TV together.
Despite the fact that the interesting topic was closed, I somehow understood that it was to be continued (or maybe I was just hoping it would). We watched TV for a while at her place. I already began to think that nothing was going to happen, when she took a rug and spread it out under the big round table, covered with a hanging table-cloth, making a sort of intimate closet out of it.

We got under the table and started giggling there. Natasha started tickling me, touched my breasts several times, and tried to raise my skirt. Under different circumstances I would have asked her if she had gone mad, but I did not say anything then. Then she said: 'Show me what your tits look like.' I asked her to show me hers first, we wrangled for a while, but eventually I pulled my T-shirt up and shown her. She pulled up hers then, then took it off completely, then made me take off mine.
We set against each other looking at each others breasts. I still remember her breasts very well: pretty big even for her age, very resilient looking, white skin and big dark circles around the nipples. She started stroking herself, then pinching at her nipples, then took hold of her nipples and shook her breasts. We were both breathing heavily. I was waiting for us to start 'feeling each other', i.e. for her to start touching me.
She made me lie on my back and started working up my breasts, pitching at my nipples with her thumb and forefinger. My pussy was twitching and contracting, I thought I was going to pee myself, I was gasping for breath, Natasha's face was all red too. 'Are you horny?' she asked. 'I do not know' I answered. She took everything off, so did I. Her pubic hair was fair, mine was dark, we spread out legs and started rubbing each other with our pussies.

Then she asked me to suck her tits. I began to suck squeezing my hand between my legs. She ordered me to suck harder. I lost my head completely and asked her to suck me too. She began doing so, biting my nipples a little bit. I felt something pouring out of my vagina. At first I thought my periods started all of a sudden, but then looked at my hand, the liquid was limpid.
Then Natasha put her hand between my legs and started tapping on my clit lightly (I had not heard the word clit yet then). I heard a champing sound because I was all wet down there. She moistened my ass with my pussy juices. Then she started rubbing me there slowly inserting her finger in me.
I asked her not to do it, because I thought it embarrassing, but she would not stop. Then she stuck her finger deep down my ass and made several strong movements inside me. 'This is how Mishka will fuck you, but not in here' - she said - 'Let me show you how.' She ran to the kitchen and brought a cucumber. Then she lay down on her back and started stroking her clit, then raised her legs up in the air and inserted the cucumber between her legs. She was moving the cucumber in and out with one hand while rubbing her clit rhythmically with another.

Her eyes became glassy, face was red, she breathed heavily, almost shouting - Aaaaah! I understood that that was it - I did not know exactly what but was ready to yell along with her. Suddenly she made a wry face, then became soft, pulled the cucumber out and put it on the rug. I felt a sharp smell coming from the cucumber and another metallic smell mixed with it. I thought Natasha was going to insert the cucumber in me now, but she was tired and did not feel like continuing.
Actually, I did not know that defloration meant breaking of a hymen and was accompanied by bleeding. To tell the truth, I did not know that something was supposed to break there at all. I thought virginity can be lost only having sex with a man.
After that occasion I began to touch and caress myself regularly - pinched at my nipples and rubbed my clit. I figured out soon that this had to be done fast and with good rhythm, but it took me some time to reach orgasm though?

Tanya I.   view profile 

I had my first boyfriend. He was 3 years older than me. I cannot say that I liked him a lot - he just happened to be my first boyfriend. Most likely I just felt proud because I was noticed at last. But he really wanted me badly, it seemed. After half a year of hugs and kisses he began insisting we got intimate.

I did not feel like loosing my virginity, I had a feeling that he was not the person who was meant to be my first. I felt that true love was still to come, and he... was sort of a temporary replacement, so let him be for a while... Although I did not really feel like leaving him either. Of course he suffered a lot. Kept telling me horror stories of the peculiarities of men physiology - that without a discharge he was very likely to become an impotent, that it hurt him so bad, that he even might develop a tumor very soon that will require surgery... The point being I was just obliged to 'give it to him'...
But I would not agree even to petting. I was afraid he would get too horny and out of control that I would not be able to cope with him (he was a pretty big guy). That non-compliance of mine got him swinging from anger to despair. Once he almost got to his knees begging: 'Just take your clothes off, let me at least (I quote) fucking jerk off at you!' We were sitting in a kitchenette of a single-room flat. I did not want to be alone with him and naked under no circumstances.
And here I noticed there was a latch on the door from the kitchen side. Almost whole of the door was made of glass. I pushed him out of the kitchen, latched the door from the inside, and felt at ease. He would not break the glass, would he? He was in the corridor, looking at me. Slowly I started stripping.
I came to enjoy the situation. It was safe and exciting. He had all his clothes on, but I saw his hand moving in his pocket. Teasing him I started assuming different positions as lascivious women I had seen in movies and magazines would.
I got excited myself. While doing one of those 'exercises' I stroked myself between the legs and felt the pleasure getting stronger. I had never masturbated before; just fantasizing was all I had done. I discovered how nice touching myself felt and continued caressing my vulva.
In the meanwhile he unzipped his jeans and was masturbating looking straight at me. When I saw the size of his cock I was happy I had not gone to bed with him. Although I found the sight of a guy masturbating extremely exciting. I came up very close to the glass and saw him come. White jets spurting on the glass almost as high as my breasts. I was happy for him, but mostly for myself.

I found a vent for my sexuality in an accepted and safe for me form! Since that day sex through the glass became my favorite pastime. I learned masturbation techniques pretty soon and was gratifying my boyfriend not with striptease alone, but also with such a spicy sight as well. We used to indulge in this pleasant pastime shamelessly sitting or standing right against each other. That suited me fine, but, apparently, not him. He did not have much of his physiologic arguments left, so he would just take it out on me, saying he was not a boy and we could not go on forever like this...
If he had been just a little bit more patient, he might got rewarded eventually. But it all happened different way... One of those days we settled down against each other as usual. I was sitting in the kitchen, he was standing in the corridor behind the glass door, just in front of me. At first I was just looking at him, getting turned on, then tucked my legs under me, and started caressing myself in a 'lotus position'. In a little while I closed my eyes with pleasure, drowning in a pleasant nirvana and forgot about time, my finger tracing out intricate patterns inside my vagina... At one moment I felt like boosting my emotion a bit, so I opened my eyes to look at him... But behind the glass I saw 4 or 5 guys' ugly mugs smirking nastily!!!
The shock was so strong I even was not able to scream. I seemed to have choked on my own breath. I could not believe my eyes, thought I was hallucinating. Only in a few seconds was I able to scream out loud at last, jumped off the chair and hid behind the wall. I must have set for two hours there sobbing. I heard him talking to me from behind the closed door, asking me to calm down and open up. I was shaking all over, squirmed, not able to straighten my back. Then I somehow gathered my clothes from the other side of the kitchen, having reached over for them with a mop, put them on, opened the door and ran away.
He caught me by the door, started explaining something... According to him, he was not to blame, he just forgot to lock the front door and his friends barged into without knocking. But I pushed him aside and left. I did not believe him. I did not hear no sound at all, that meant they got in very quietly, on their toes. That was not the way people would barge in.
They were standing quietly at the kitchen door and watched me. And where had he been all the time? There had been not a sound, not an exclamation. He lied to me. I think he had already made up his mind to leave me then. And just wanted to make the breaking up as humiliating for me as possible. And also show off in front of his friends - show them things a girl could do for him.

Stella S.   view profile 

There was a girl in the neighborhood, everybody kind of looked down at, called her a ?wanker?. Girls said she was telling others how she rubbed herself down there and enjoyed it. That was not considered a nice thing to do.

I have not heard those stories from her myself, but heard many other. She lived in a single room with her mother and father-in-law and witnessed some real sex scenes. Besides, she had access to a VCR and a few ?interesting? cassettes. That is why I listened to her stories all ears and holding my breath.
Actually I treated her better than others because we lived in the same block of flats and our mothers were friends. She was a frequent guest at my place and we played together. I stopped by at hers not too often ? there was not much room for two girls in a single-room flat with her mother and father-in-law around. You could say we were friends.
We were not discussing her habits, she did not share, I thought it indecent to ask. However I asked her a lot of questions about the intimate sides of life. Her answers excited me, I wanted to see everything with my own eyes. She promised to show me one of the ?forbidden? tapes. So one day we settled down by the TV. Larissa lay on the sofa, I set in the armchair.
I do not remember what the film was called, but it was not hardcore porn, just a soft erotic film with a few quite candid scenes (like Emmanuelle). The plot developed fast enough, so that in about 15 minutes my face was burning and I was puffing slightly short of breath. The film impressed me a lot. For the first time I saw it in detail.
I remember I behaved like an idiot because of excitement and confusion: laughed out loud, made stupid remarks. Form time to time I would throw a glance at Larissa, but she was calm. Just lay back screwing her eyes, watching the film attentively. I could tell she was excited too, but differently, more seriously maybe. If my reaction was a kind of hysterical, she seemed deep in herself. There was an aloof expression on her face, as if she was living everything that took place on the screen inside herself. The only signs of her excitement were her biting on her lip from time to time and stroking her own leg nervously.
But pretty soon I shut up too overwhelmed with excitement that became nearly physical pressure. I felt sweet and embarrassing heaviness in the low belly, I became uncomfortable in my seat, felt a restless urge to move. Scene after scene turned me on more and more. Larisa, on the contrary, became more animated, only her animation was not very natural. She was inching on her leg with her fingers and clenching her fists.
From time to time she would comment what was going on the screen in a nervous and jerky voice. ?Now watch this? she said at the beginning of another scene. It was a beautiful, long and very detailed copulation episode where partners changed positions a lot. There was a certain rhythm in it that was backed up with a fiery, exciting music.
In a few minutes I became aware that I was also sitting like Larissa, holding my breath and biting on my lip. My friend?s eyes were glued to the screen, her face petrified. When the scene was over, she shook her head and muttered through clenched teeth decisively: ?Let me do something.? Put the VCR on pause and went to the bathroom.

She was back in a minute, started the video and rewound it to the beginning of the episode. When she settled on the sofa, I noticed she had no tights on anymore. The scene was running second time and I was looking at Larisa stealthily. I was not surprised when I saw her hand slipped under her skirt.
First, I was aware of her reputation and was expecting something like this. Secondly, I understood her perfectly ? I was burning myself down there and felt my own hand reaching out for the same spot on its own. Now I was not really following the action on the screen, rather looked sideways on my friend. To be more exact, at the bulge under her skirt where her hand was.
That was the only place where something was going on. Larisa lay motionless in a tense position, not taking her screwed up eyes from the screen, only the fabric of her skirt was moving briskly in one spot, reflecting the intense action of her hand.
I could not hold any longer and my hand crawled under my skirt too, squeezing hard what was burning and itching between my legs. At that time a new episode started on the screen, it was woman masturbation scene. All her secret places were widely exposed. I was shifting my gaze from the screen to Larisa. She seemed to be repeating everything after the girl on the screen. I had an impression that they were working in a single rhythm and feeling the same.
Larisa?s body was shaking and twitching at the same moments as the girl?s, moans on the screen were accompanied by Larisa?s strange whistling sighs. She was already paying no attention to me, her skirt was pulled up, I saw her naked legs, the flashing of her fingers in her most intimate place, through which I saw the dark hairs of her pubis and her pulled out, resilient pussy lip.
Now I am trying to recall everything and arrange in the order of events, but I cannot describe the emotions that overwhelmed me then. That ?twin scene? turned me on to the level beyond myself. I did not feel any embarrassment either because of my own caressing myself, or of what I saw on the screen and on the sofa. Compulsively, I plucked at what was in my hand inside my panties, but mostly just pressed there, squeezing in the bonfire that was breaking out from inside me.
In the meanwhile the scene reached the climax. Larisa?s skirt was not covering anything anymore. Her left hand was under her butt, and was working from beneath so strongly, that her entire body arched upwards, fingers dancing between her widely spread legs. Her eyes were closed, mouth half-open. Suddenly something threw her upwards several times and then she became soft. Then, without opening her eyes and not saying a word, she turned to face the back of the sofa and squirmed on her side to fetus position, pulling her knees to her chin and straightening her skirt with her hand.
About ten minutes passed, she would not move. I felt awkward and left for home. Wildly excited and absolutely staggered and shocked. What I saw haunted me all day and at night ?I let myself go? for the first time, recalling and trying everything I saw earlier.
That was how I became ?a wanker? too, and have never felt sorry about it by the way. We had something else with Larisa later. And not only with her. You can call me bisexual now, moreover, I think I like girls better. No doubt, that these preferences are a result of my first sexual experience.

Suzie K.   view profile 

My first desire of sex was mostly caused by the peer pressure, desire to be as my friends were. I remained practically the only virgin, leaving aside a few ugly classmates.

That was at my last year at school and knew a lot already. I took great interest in computer and Internet, hung out in sex chats, read a lot of stories. I had even seen a real sexual act live, just in two meters from me, performed by two of my friends and their boyfriends.
That was everything they talked about, my friends did not even want to think of anything else, despite the coming entrance exams to colleges. My best friend had been sleeping with her boyfriend for two years already, and we started drifting apart ? different interests we had were beginning to tell. That was when I started wishing I had a boyfriend too to have sex with.
I did everything that was in fashion: I smoked, drank, used filthy words, laughed at dirty jokes and told them myself (by the way, I still like spicy jokes best). And at last I found myself a boyfriend (an old friend of mine, we had met some time before). I returned to his old company then.
He invited me to his place once (he was living at his brother?s). I eagerly accepted his invitation and went to his place for a weekend. Nothing happened at that time; we just lay together, watched TV and kissed. I understood then that even a rough guy can be tender and caring.

On my way home I was already thinking of how to make him invite me again. When he called me the next day, I did not recognize myself. I, a timid and bashful girl with a lot of inhibitions, began seducing him, asking to be invited, speaking of Champaign and pineapples?
I was probably too pushy because he also invited my friend with her boyfriend (must have been scared of me or something, I do not know). We bought vodka, lemonade, something to chew and went. I was doing awful things there. When we were sitting at the table, he was sitting opposite me, I stuck my leg between his? He got drunk (no wonder ? mixing vodka and Champaign that was originally bought for me) ? and we went to separate rooms.
Judging by the sound coming from the adjacent room, my friend and her boyfriend got down to business. I also began pushing the guy ? hugged him, stroked, kissed, but he was passing out anyway, and none of his organs worked.
I was upset because I decided to loose my virginity that day and had been silly enough to warn him that I was a virgin and needed to be handled with care and tenderness. What tenderness? He just could not make it, no matter how hard I tried. We just lay watching TV. Then his friends showed up, brought more wine with them, we got at the table again?

We got really drunk, I do not remember how we ended up on a sofa in a dark room. I was on top of him, kissing him in frenzy, then got under his shirt, took it off completely and continued kissing his body. Then got into his pants, took out his ?friend? and began caressing and kissing it. I have read a lot about blowjob, and tried to apply all my knowledge into practice. I tried, but he would not come, no matter how hard I tried?
He would not talk to me that night, would not even kiss me until the next day?
I tried to sleep with him several times after that, but he did not believe I was a virgin and would not sleep with me? Or, maybe, the way I acted made him think I was a whore? Sometimes I think he was just afraid of being my first guy. Soon he went to the army and came back from there already married (to a daughter of the head of the garrison) with a baby.
While he was in the army, the word spread out, that I slept with him many times and sucked his cock. That rumor poisoned my life at the time pretty much.
Those unsuccessful adventures made me throw silly thoughts about boys out of my head and get ready to join the University.
One more thing ? regardless of all, I do love giving blowjob very much.

Katia D.   view profile 

It began at the dance classes I attended. We wore swimsuits with nothing underneath, and had classes in a big hall, in the evenings. There were no dressing room there at all, we had to change either right there in the hall, or in a little closet adjacent to the girls? room. I was new and hanged around with one group of girls then with another.

One day the head of the class asked me to stay after class for a few minutes to show me the step I could not do properly, so I went to change to the rest room afterwards, did not want to stay alone in the hall. I was surprised to see four girls were still there and stark naked. I mean they were a kind of changing clothes, but were doing it very slowly, as if reluctant. They would put something on, then take it off (as if they had put it inside out), walked to the restroom and back into the closet. They seemed to be unhappy to see me there, looked at me coldly. I felt the situation was kind of tense. I took the swimsuit off and was naked too. I feel impolite to put my clothes on and leave at once, so I began a polite conversation about the class, our teacher. The girls had to respond, so I felt a bit more relaxed.

Suddenly I noticed some kind of movement in the opposite wall. I was surprised and came close to see. I saw something I had never noticed before ? there were holes in the wooden wall, drilled with a penknife! There was same kind of closet behind that wall, only it was in a men?s room, and somebody was watching us from there! I grew all cold immediately, went back to the bench and began to dress up. And all the time I was dressing up I kind of felt greedy inquisitive eyes on me. Other girls were looking at me derisively. They were in no hurry.

I was not able to sleep for long time that night. Against my will I felt something very exciting in that situation, something scary and alluring at the same time. At the next class, I came up to one of the girls after the class and confided what I had seen to her. Her reaction was a kind of calm, something like ?You do not have to, if you do not want to?. Do not know why (maybe to prove something) I went with them that time again. At first I thought it was a kind of a contest ? who can stay naked under the gaze of the strangers longer. I was willing to do a lot to prove to those girls that I (a newcomer) was not inferior to them.

But the situation itself began to excite me more and more. Especially when I heard sighs and whispering behind the wall, sometimes something like a quiet ?Oh?, saw eyes gleaming in the holes. I myself became short of breath, felt that ?twisting? feeling in my low belly I never felt before. I decided to go all the way and see what it would come to.
In about 15 more minutes, the most ?competent? girl Ira, stood up and began putting her clothes on, we followed. But having dressed, girls did not go out, but went to that very wall and stuck to it. I had a hole for me too. I saw three guys from ship model hobby group. They stood with their pants down, showing their ?tools?. Not just showing, they ?played? with them, for us to see. They showed us everything. I looked, turning away in shame then clinging back to the hole greedily.

It also lasted about 15 minutes, but in those 15 minutes I felt so much! I understood the meaning of what was going on. There must have been a kind of an unspoken treaty between the girls and those guys. Barter, as they would call it. I show you mine, you show me yours. That got me so excited that I became a regular participant.
Fantasies were spinning round in my head all the time, I learned to masturbate, fantasizing, imagining what I would do with the guys, if we?d lay naked together. It all lasted for about 4 months, until summer vacations. That wall sex became the purport of my life. When we were back from vacation, the toilet was fixed, there was a brick wall. That was how it all ended. But that influenced me a lot. I found out what sex was, and realized that I want it.

Alina U.   view profile 

I made that discovery by chance. I woke up in the middle of the night once to go to a restroom (restroom again!). It was in summer, I had only panties and a light undershirt on. After having taken care of my little business, passing by the parents? bedroom, I heard the bed squeaking ? they were making love. Something hit me and I stopped by the door. I was excited not just by the fact they were doing it (although that was exciting too! :)). Suddenly I realized that I can do whatever I want in the house, I was the mistress of the house, parents being totally preoccupied.

I imagined that I could easily had taken all my clothed off, and stand and even walk around the flat stark naked. I had nothing to fear. If they decided to go out of the room for whatever reason, I would hear their steps and had enough time to retreat to my room. When I realized, that I really could in fact do it, I felt those sensations coming back again. I rushed to my room and could not go to sleep for a long time, trying to ?not let go? of that sensation. I managed quite easily, because my imagination worked 100%, and, most important, I had a precise plan I went over and over in my head.
For a couple of days I waited for a chance to turn it into reality and thought carefully over each detail. At night I did not go to bed for a long time, I would open a door to the corridor and listen for squeaking of the bed, trying not to miss the moment. And I got lucky soon! I realized it was now or never!

I pulled off my shirt, took of panties and went down the corridor naked (carefully, silently, on my toes). I came to the door and felt that I was so excited that I could not stand up; I had to lean on the wall. I could not breathe, my legs did not obey me anymore, and my heart was beating so fast, I thought I was going to die. I listened to their ?love? for a while, then risked a trip to the kitchen, but got back to the door fast. I was afraid to miss the moment when the squeaking stopped and the danger became real. As soon as it happened, I whisked back into my room.
I set in my room for half a night, savoring the experience, playing it back over and over in my head. I was dizzy, my head was spinning around. It was then when I first time discovered how sensitively my lower belly reacted to the touch of my hand :)) Masturbation ?after it? was much sweater, then just ?dry?. Or, in other words, it was totally different.:)) It added a lot to what I felt. But still it could not be compared to my ?night trips?. I never touched myself when I was ?on the mission?, only afterwards, thinking of it. Because, I just did not want to be distracted from those acute sensation I experienced.

I have been doing it for three years and so far I am not interested in any form of sex, but this. A few times I nearly got caught, because I got too bold and began walking round the house at any time, not just when the bed was squeaking. Once I missed stepfathers? steps and hardly have time to hide in the toilet, when he got out of the room. He must have ?had an urge? too, so that he stood by the door for about five minutes, breathing nosily through his nose and coughing a little. And I was standing on the other side of the door in terror, stark naked, heard him breathing and could not imagine what to do now. Thanks god, he felt thirsty and went to the kitchen. At that moment I whisked out and into my room.
Those small incidents do not really stop me, rather got me excited. Although, I do try to be careful. For the last few months I have been thinking of a Great Grand Plan (as I call it:)) I would like to walk naked on the stairway in our block of flats ? from my seventh floor, down to the ground floor and back. Very late at night of course. Maybe at first I will try the elevator, but then I definitely want to walk. I am not sure if I will ever dare to do it. Just thinking of it gives me shivers ? ooooh! :)

Natasha G.   view profile 

I had a friend at school, Natasha, her family lived in a house, and there was a barn in their yard where they kept firewood. That barn was where we went after school and sitting on the logs in the dusk continue our secret conversations, which became even more open in the dark. We spoke of everything we knew about what grownups did at night?

In the course of one of those conversations Natashka asked me to tell or better show how a man would caress a woman with a hand. I refused at first, then said that I could show it, but only on her. After a short argument and giggling she agreed and pulled down her panties. I began to stroke her with my finger and suddenly I felt that I myself enjoy touching her body a lot - the spot there was unusually tender. Natashka giggled at first, then she leaned backwards and froze in a tense position, shut her eyes clutching at the wood.
Her reaction told me that something important and unusual was going on, and that turned me on too. I deliberately tried to stick my finger deeper into her little folds, because I saw how she winced and gasped for breath when my finger touched a certain spot.
At last she asked ?Stop it?? in an unfamiliar whining voice, threw her arms around my neck and clung to me and I felt her heart pounding madly. I did not understand what happened to her, began to apologize thinking that I hurt her unintentionally. But she drawled in the same fickle- offended voice: ?Yeeesss? If it hurt? You do not understand nothing?? And began to giggle nervously.
I demanded she did the same to me this time. And under Natashka?s brisk little fingers I felt it?too

After we discovered that remarkable secret, we spent a lot of time in that barn exploring each others and our own bodies. We did not feel embarrassed at all ? the pleasure was much stronger than any shame. There was so much tenderness and trust in our relationships, that you can probably call it love. Or maybe it was love indeed. I have quite a bit of experience with men now and can say, for example, that with a man I could hardly sit opposite one another and masturbate looking into each others eyes. There are certain borders you cannot cross with a man. But with Natashka it was so easy, natural and without any inhibitions to our mutual pleasure. With her we masturbated only ? our ?lesbian? relationships did not go any further with her. It lasted for two years ? we both had enough time to learn what orgasm is.
Then interest in boys separated us, it was sincere on my behalf too ? so I do not think I became a lesbian in full sense of the word, I think you can call me bisexual. But somehow it did not go any further with Natashka, we are still friends although and still see each occasionally.