Anastasia K.   view profile 

I grew up without a father. My mother brought me up, if you can call it upbringing. Most of all she was concerned with her own life. Men came to our house very often, then went, often mother did not come home until the next day.

She paid much less attention to me then she did to her men. I was often present in the room when they had sex, and I did not like it. All those sounds, puffing and fuss in the dark, or in the dim light of a night lamp... They behaved as if I did not exist there at all.
When I grew up it became worse. She treated me as a kind of a friend. She expected understanding on my behalf! When she needed to bring another man in, she would ask me to stay overnight at my friends' or elsewhere. She would give me a wink and say: 'well, you understand, don't you!' I did not want to understand, I felt embarrassed to ask my friends to let me stay overnight at their places. I had to explain something, lie, invent excuses (so that their parents understood correctly). That was all very depressing.
Once, I arranged to stay the night at a friend's place, but when I got there, there was nobody home. I decided to wait and set on the windowsill at the landing between floors in her apartment building. Time passed by, it was already dark, but they were not back yet. People passed by, looked at me, it was pretty embarrassing. But it was too late to change plans anyway, so I decided to wait as long as I had to (or spend the night there on the windowsill in the worst case).
A man with a dog passed by me, going downstairs, looked at me in surprise. When he returned he asked me what I was doing there at night. I told him I was waiting for Natashka. Then he said he saw her family earlier that day, they were leaving for dacha, so there was no point in waiting.
He suggested I went to his place with him, but I refused. He shrugged his shoulders and went with his dog. About 40 minutes passed. It was getting pretty cold and I became sorry I decided to stay overnight there. And here the door on the top floor opened again and the man got out. Again he asked me to come in and have some tea at least. I was cold, so I decided to come in.

He was alone in a flat with a dog. He led me to the kitchen, gave me something to eat and poured me a cup of tea. We started to talk, and it turned out I felt at ease with him, I did not feel I was talking to somebody who was much older. Tea drunk, I did not feel like leaving. I was waiting for him to ask me to stay, and was not mistaken. And I agreed to stay for the night at his place.
To be honest, I understood what staying overnight with a man might come. But after spending half a night on the windowsill, I felt really pissed off at the whole world and especially at my mother. I felt like doing something terrible in revenge. So that I could tell everybody: 'You did it to me? Now see what happened to me!' I realized that my virginity was at risk, but that did not scare me. And I made up my mind that if he began to make passes on me, I would not resist! Let happen what should!
But he behaved pretty normal. He let me into one of the room, and went himself to the other one. But men are always men! When I was almost asleep, I heard the door opening and he come in. My sleepiness disappeared in a jiffy, heart started beating fast.
He set on the edge of the bed and did not do anything for sometime. Then very slowly he stroked me with his hand from my breasts to toes over the blanket. I was lying with my eyes closed without a slightest movement. Then he repeated his caress and went on stroking me. Then his hand got under the blanket. When he continued caressing my naked body I felt an unusual acute feeling that frightened me. I quickly turned over to my belly, but did not say a word.

The man began stroking my back and below, then began sort of massaging me. His hands were warm and strong, he did not do anything bad, so my fear was gone. His touch was tender and felt good. I had not experienced much caress in my life, so I relaxed and made no resistance. I still felt dull pain in the lower belly left over from my fright, but it was rather pleasant pain.
He stroked me for long time, I grew soft and even did not noticed when he undid my bra. Then his fingers found their way lower, under my panties, began stroking my buttocks, then slipped further... I was lying like a rug doll, absolutely relaxed.
I did not feel like resisting at all and decided for myself: let him do whatever he wanted (besides it was becoming more and more pleasant)... I allowed him to take off my panties completely and did not struggle when he spread my legs slightly. He began caressing me with his finger slowly... The sweet pain became stronger and stronger, to the degree when I felt like suppressing it with another kind of pain.
I was aware of what was about to follow, and was waiting impatiently for it to happen. At last my man let go of me for a minute and I heard the rustle of the clothes being taken off. He settled down by my side, stroked me for a while again and then lay on top of me and spread my legs with his.

He was holding my breasts with on of his hands, firmly, but gently. I could not see what he was doing, but felt something hard and hot pressing from beneath, seeking its way inside me. In a second there was a short flash of pain that surprisingly pleasantly merged with that exhaustingly sweet pain I had been feeling in my lower belly.
I felt something entering me, expanding and filling me from inside... Then he started moving carefully inside me back and forth, his movements becoming faster and faster. Because he had massaged me before, I accepted what was happening to me as a continuation of massage. That massage was soothing the pain inside me in some magical way and replacing it with another sweet sensation, no less captivating...
The man turned me over to my side, caressed my breasts with one hand, my belly and down there with another, intensifying his rhythmical movements... That lasted long. I was melting... But suddenly he became breathing heavily, all of a sudden stopped and withdrew. For several seconds he pressed his body to mine in convulsions, then grew weak and let go of me...
We lay still for a while... Then he put the night light on. When he saw stains on the bed sheet, his reaction was not quite adequate at first. 'Why did not you tell me you had your periods?' - he asked. But then having looked at my face, he understood... But did not look happy. He was mostly preoccupied with the thought how to get rid of the blood stains not only from the bed sheet but from the mattress as well. Eventually the two of us coped with them. The night passed. We manage to sleep no more than two hours.

I came home a different person next morning. Probably he had not just made me a woman, he woke a woman in me as well. Honestly - I liked it. I even seek to meet him again, stopped by Natashka's house pretty often, even saw him, but he pretended he did not recognize me. I can understand why - as I found out from Natashka later, he had a wife and two children. They must have been at the dacha at that time too...
Then I began trying it with other guys... It turned out to be not so great as it was my first time. Usually it was just 'stick it in' quickly... But that took care of my need-a-place-to-stay-overnight problem))). It has never been a problem since. After 2 year of my nomadic life I came to study to a technical school in St. Petersburg (although I was doing very good at the high school) - just to get a place in a hostel and not to depend on my mother at all.
Why am I telling all this? Probably because it feels good to remind myself of my first experience...))) I think it had a strong and positive effect on my life. Now at least I know for sure what a real man should be like in bed, and I know I will find exactly what I am looking for sooner of later.

Lena P.   view profile 

At my first college year I plunged into searching for sexual pleasures headlong. Everybody must have gone through this. But I had a specific goal. The goal was orgasm.

One of my girlfriends had been dinning about it into my ears. She must have been just masturbating, but the emotions she described impressed me a lot. Not that and my attitude to masturbation was negative. My goal was to feel the same, but 'normal' or 'natural' way - the way determined by nature. So I went into the research.
Naturally, there was no shortage of partners - young and sexually obsessed students all around - batting an eye was all it took. But... the first year passed without mush success. From the height of my present experience, I must say that my search then was based on the wrong criteria.

From talking to my girlfriends, I had an impression that the key factors were the size and 'hardness' of penis. So sometimes I even checked for those parameters before all: after hugging, fondling and squeezing each other with a new guy, I would just get into his pants and try to determine his size by feel. If he seemed not big enough, he would get the sack right there.
But, unfortunately, even with guys endowed with 'big' and 'hard' ones, I was not able to get even a hint of orgasm. Moreover, one guy was so big I was afraid before sex that he would tear me. Good thing I was smart enough to grab the base of his cock in my fist. But even minus the width of my fist his cock was of such a size that I almost burst from the inside, and instead of enjoying it I only prayed I'd survive through it.

So, after a year I was a sort of confused (even disillusioned) and just quit 'following the parameters' of a potential partner. And that was when that guy came along. Judging by the way he behaved one might think he was a virgin - his inexperience and bashfulness were strikingly obvious. There was a reason. When I got him undressed, I noticed his unusual peculiarity. His cock was rather small, but it 'stood' strictly upright, touching his belly with all its length.
Playing, I pulled it slightly and then let go. It returned to the primary position with a fruity smack against his belly. Since my new partner was visible inexperienced, I had to take the initiative. At moments like this I really turn on and play the leading role, so pretty soon I was on top of him.
And here I felt something unusual. Sitting on top of him with my back straight, his cock inside me, I felt his cock pressing strongly against the front side of my vagina. It even hurt a little, but the pain was surprisingly sweet. Having started moving on him, I felt the sweetness flooding my body with each thrust, soothing the pain. It zoomed so unexpectedly fast that I just 'lost myself' not aware of want was going on.

I was so overwhelmed by the wave of energy feeding me from beneath that I set off at a gallop on top of him like crazy (surprising him to the depth of his soul - how come he, a virgin, was capable of arousing such emotions in me : - )). Soon the wave rising from beneath swept over my head completely and exploded with a bright flash.
Like in Basic Instinct movie I fell on his chest (only I had no ice pick in my hand: - )). And - separate from my head - three short, very unusual, painfully and sweet at the same time, spasms in my vagina: 'pyk-pyk-pyk...' After that I grew flabby completely and was not able to move for half an hour.

I 'paid' for my first orgasm with two days of painful feeling in my bladder and frequent urges to pee. But that did not bother me much. From then on I new what I should be looking for in men. Soon I was able to find more guys with similar peculiarity. I checked their abilities by the 'fruitiness' of the belly smack. : - )
One of those guys is my official boyfriend now. Later, in books on sex, I read about the G-spot, that is right on the front wall of the vagina. It must be the shape of his penis plus my position on top that hit the spot right.
But, I must tell you, although all this is just great, it is best to look for a partner basing not on the shape of the genitals, but love.

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.

Julia M.   view profile 

I have a very powerful and strong-willed mother. I was brought up to obey her since childhood. She made decisions for me. We lived without a father. So, there has not been much alternative in my life. I kind of got used to it, because all her decisions turned out to be correct ones eventually.

So, she started planning a career for me. I have an excellent body, but have never been a good student really, so it was decided that the best option for me was to become a model. Before I went to the agency, we had a serious talk with my mother.
She explained to me that a career of a model in itself did not guarantee success on the long run. A few years of making good money and that would be it. Most important thing was to find a husband in those several years. Somebody who could provide me for life. It was all for real; all it took was to act single-mindedly and with precision. There were suitable candidates handing around model business, main thing was to act timely and not miss the chance.

And one could not be a virgin to achieve the goals. More over, one had to be so skillful in the art of sex that a man wanted to be with no one else but you. It was a totally frank conversation. Mother said she did not want to force me into anything, I had to make my own decision, but my only alternative would be miserable existence. I did not hesitate for long. I liked the prospects she drew up for me.
Then the issue of my 'education' came to the agenda. But mother had even thought about that too. One of her ex-lovers had to become my 'deflorator'. They had parted long time ago, but were good friends. Mother felt sorry about it at times; because she said he was an ideal man in bed. They parted because of her temper. So, everything arranged, we went...

He turned out to be a pleasant man, I liked him, although was embarrassed at first. We had a dinner for about two hours, for me to get used to him. Then mother left us alone... What can I say... Yes, he turned out to be experienced indeed. The foreplay alone lasted for about four hours.
During that time he was able to put me at ease completely. Skillfully, with words and caresses he brought me to a condition close to orgasm. And entered me only when I wanted it myself. First time he simply entered me. I was euphoric with his caress and wine; I did not feel almost no pain. But he did not move (not to hurt me), just stayed inside me. And started caressing my clit at the same time. That was an incredible sensation! The feel of man's essence inside plus that caress...

Nobody would believe, but I started moving myself on top of him, like an experienced woman (although I had no experience whatsoever) - I wanted it! And very soon I got my first orgasm. Nobody of my friends had anything close to it at their first time, I have not even read in books about it. Just imagine the fact - to get a virgin to experience orgasm!
I could not fully appreciate it then. But such first experience caused nothing but insatiable desire to continue 'learning'. And he taught me everything... Three months with him - I will never forget! I almost fell in love with the man for real. But then again my mother interfered... But that is a different story...

Marina D.   view profile 

I lost my virginity at 18, it happened spontaneously, unexpectedly for me. I had been seeing that guy for probably 3 months. Our relationships were more of a friendship type. I do not think I loved him, just wanted to have somebody I could call 'my man'.

Obviously thoughts about sex came to my mind, but I never felt like doing it with him for the first time. Although we dated, kissed, hugged, walked 'hand in hand' - all of that was in place. Naturally quite often in conversation he would start suggesting it was time 'we'd do it'. I always talked my way out by saying something like: 'Yes, sure, but not right now, I am not really ready'. To tell the truth, he was ok, but his personality did not bring up any sensations in me compared in their intensiveness to the erotic fantasies I had.
But once he invited me (it was not the first time) to his dacha. A girlfriend of mine (not the closest one) thrust herself upon us - it was boring in St. Petersburg in summer, so the three of us went. Somebody of the neighbors there had a birthday, and everybody got pretty drunk, especially my girlfriend. Late at night we came back to the dacha and started settling down for the night. My boyfriend, being a gentleman, left us girls together in the only room there was, and went to the adjacent kitchen himself, to sleep on the floor.

And that was when my girlfriend grew weak and limp from the alcohol and lost control. She did not feel like sleeping, started stretching herself, moaning and mewing something like; 'What a wonderful day it was, I feel so good, just one thing is missing to complete the happiness - a good fuck!'
'How I wish I had a man now!' - she would keep repeating persistently, definitely hoping that Serezhka would hear this. I tried to reason her, but she was too drunk and refused to understand anything. Then she got up, and naked except for her tiny panties as she was, went to the kitchen - 'felt thirsty'. She was not even wearing a bra, and the situation began to worry me.
My boyfriend was not a virgin and he had been 'on starvation rations' with me for three month (at least that was what he was telling me). About my girlfriend I new that she had sex easily and unconstrainedly. So I could easily 'oversleep' my boyfriend!

That was why I got up and went straight to the kitchen. Serezhka lost his wits because of such an inrush of visitors, but first thing I chucked Julia out, and lay by him to be on the safe side. I did feel some tenderness towards him and started stroking his body and felt his hard-on, very big and hot. I demanded he explained if it was Julia who gave him such a hard-on. He swore, that it was me, of course...
Word after word, hands stroking the bodies, lips whispering tender words, floor boards began squeaking... And I became a woman - in a summer kitchen, in the presence of a girlfriend eavesdropping behind the door...

Marina D.   view profile 

I lived with Sergey for 2 years. To tell you the truth I had never been happy in bed with him. He turned out to be too serious of a person. As far as sex went, he accepted only, what he called, 'natural' contact between a man and a woman. And with that kind of contact he was not able to give me much pleasure, changing positions was all it was about.

I tried talking to him about female masturbation, but his reaction appeared to be negative, just like my mother's. So I never approached that subject again.
Basically the situation was pretty strange - I had sex with a man that did not bring me much joy (why were we living together then?). I satisfied myself occasionally exactly like I did in childhood (what did I need a man for? Could have done without him easily).
The paradox was that out of a partner Sergey gradually became an opponent (like my mother before). Not a friend or a lover, but an object of my sexual experiments. Sometimes, instead of wanting to go to bed with him, I stood behind the door of the room where he worked, and having pulled my panties down masturbated, enjoying the thrill. That gave me more satisfaction than sex with him. I did not think of him personally at moments like those. Basically, any other person could have been in the room instead of him.
Realistically speaking after 2 years of 'family life' I probably subconsciously wanted to change things (although I was not deliberately searching for something different). Remember myself at those days I understand that was how I was. I even behaved that way - pretending to be a little girl, I tried to please every man, smiled at them ingratiatingly, stared at them with my mouth open when they spoke (as if trying not to miss a word). I was well-wishing and sugary sweet.

Once I decided to spend a weekend at my parents' dacha. Serezhka did not go with me, he did not like my parents much, or likely just quailed at my farther (my father is a big-time entrepreneur - short tempered and rough man).
That night my father was entertaining guests (tough guys like himself), they were playing cards. I loved those gatherings. The men were all mature, intelligent, shrewd. It was fun to hear them talking, to listen to their remarks, I especially liked their humor - kind of black humor, but never vulgar and always to the point. I had earned my right to be present at the gatherings long time ago, because I waited on them pouring drinks, and offering light to smokers. And most important just kept my mouth shut, never interfered, just watched the game and listened to conversation.
And, of cause, although I did not say much, I hang around them, smiled at everybody and tried to flirt. There was a man in the company that I found especially interesting, the youngest one, he was 36. He has very handsome - as resolute and confident as all of them. But mostly I was scared and, at the same time attracted by his look - slightly sullen, scanning and shrewd. When he looked at me I felt creepy all over with the thrill - seemed he could see me through.

That night the atmosphere in the cards room was especially elevated. The game was muddled, but funny and excitable. Everybody was lucky in his turn, big money changed hands all the time. Everybody was excited hoping for his luck, I also caught the mood and hovered about sometimes interfering with the game. At one of those moments when I made too much fuss around that guy, Andrey not letting him figure out his cards properly, he smacked my butt slightly to keep me off.
To smack a butt of my father's daughter may be beyond a joke, actually, so Andrey immediately darted a glance at my father and then at me. But everybody understood correctly, I was smiling happily, so he calmed down. But he must have noticed something in my eyes, because his attentive glance lingered at me for a second. And indeed... that smack of his made me feel something. Like a breeze... Short, but very sensuous...

When guests began to disperse to bedrooms for the night, Andrey lingered with me (I stayed in the room to clean up). We talked casually, flirted a bit, I said something sarcastic to him, and got my butt smacked immediately again, this one was pretty deliberate and fruity.
Andrey looked at me searchingly, I looked up at him resigned. Our conversation stopped there, I think our eyes said all to each other.
The next day, on Saturday I suddenly made up my mind to go back to Petersburg. As I expected, the first one who volunteered to give me a lift was Andrey. So, I was not imagining it... That was what I was expecting. We talked on the way back and he suggested we stopped at his place for a cup of coffee. It was more of an order than a suggestion, so I obeyed implicitly. Then his commanding tone became more strict and confident.

I think that he was experienced in relationships with a girl with troubles similar to mine. Or probably he was just very experienced and shrewd person, who was able to guess me right. Or I myself behaved so, that he was able to guess which way he was supposed to go. One way or another, he did not drag me to bed. Instead he talked to me, his talk becoming more and more rough.
A Demanding Master was sitting in an arm chair with his feet on the table. Smoking and sipping cognac he gave humiliating orders to the Bad Girl in a scornful tone. She stood in front of him with her panties down and blushing with shame and embarrassment was showing him how she 'does dirty things'.
Repugnance was on the Master's face when he called the Bad Girl up, put her over his knee and punished her, slapped her buttocks, shamed her and scolded. But that was not enough for him. He humiliated the poor Girl any way he could. Made her sit in front of him with her legs spread wide and pull apart the lips of her vulva so that each of her secret folds was seen. He wanted to see in every detail that very spot that the girl rubbed so vilely.

The scene made the Master even more indignant. The girl had to 'suck cock' in punishment. All the dirty words and humiliation made the poor girl cry, but she had to obey.
She understood the justice of the punishment and had to take that object into her mouth for the first time. But yet the Master is not happy. She is not doing it well enough. 'You will do it with your cunt now, but do it well, or...'
The poor Bad Girl is trying to do her best. She takes the object inside her, caresses it with her body, strokes it with the walls of her vagina. She is so obedient; she wants to be forgiven so much, she is so happy at the chance to win his pardon... that in a few minutes a fiery sphere explodes in her head and her vagina responds with a series of short convulsive grasps caused by the most acute rapture... I came. For the first time in my life. First cheating and first orgasm happened at the same time...

It took me long time to come back to my senses, for long time I was lying on Andrey's chest not able to look him in the eyes, embarrassed of what had happened. But when I finally did I saw a completely different person. Intelligent, kind, dear eyes, understanding and forgiving everything on earth.
Merciless Mister Hide was gone, the kindest Doctor Jekyll took his place. So, not giving a damn about others - good and decent - I live with those two gentlemen now.

Christina Sh.   view profile 

I had a rather strange episode not so long ago. I began my sexual life at 18, but I always had problems with orgasm.
Caress and sex do get me very excited. It is a great feeling. I feel a wave of pleasure lifting me, taking possession of me and carrying me away. But when I reach the very edge, I get a painful spasm, probably because of being overexcited.

Continuation of sex gives me nothing but torture after that. It even hurts to touch that spot, a touch becomes torture. And at the same time I feel that I am just a few seconds away from 'coming', just a little bit more and I would 'come'.
I do not know if anybody can imagine how hard it is. Through out all my life to keep reaching the very edge and remain unsatisfied. To look at the husband who falls asleep after sex happy and relaxed, and not being able to fall asleep myself for a long time, feeling the residue of pain and arousal... and something else, I am not sure what... anguish and frustration, maybe...
I got really sick with this situation. You cannot say I have done nothing about it. We tried all kinds of sex with my husband, tried everything possible - always the same result. Tried to have sex drunk to make me relax more, tried watching porn... It became an obsession with me. It does tell on my health and temper, I became nervy, get irritated at a mere nothing. I developed a mixed feeling about sex, one of expectation and aversion.

So, one we were invited with my husband to my friend's birthday. Every year we had been celebrating it in a small company. At that time one of the guests invited, a girl, Nadia, was known to be a lesbian.
Our friends are all tactful people, nobody had ever discussed lesbian issues with her. Neither had she ever volunteered to talk about it. Usually we talked of different things.
That time my husband wished to have sex right when we were about to leave - it all turned out to be same as usual. So when we arrived to the friends' place I was pretty hysterical, being mad at my husband, feeling horny and painful. To relieve the stress I drank a lot.
After the 'official part' everybody dispersed to different rooms. Men sat down to play cards in the living room, wives were discussing mutual friends in the bedroom. Being nervous as I were I did not feel like staying with them and went to the kitchen with Nadia to have a smoke.

She was a slim, cute girl with a pale face, not talking too much, but rather of an 'understanding' type. She had nothing in common with a cartoon image of a lesbian one can see in the movies. Having too much to drink, I got carried away and started talking to her about what hurt me the most, complaining about my poor fate.
Having broken the unspoken taboo, I started badgering her with questions how they (lesbians) did it. Surprisingly, she listened to me with sympathy and answered my questions without much embarrassment. It was obvious that her sympathy was not assumed, he asked me for details, asked if I tried one thing or another. I melted because of such sympathy and accepted her like my best friend.
And after hearing another complaint of mine she suddenly put her hand on my knee and asked half joking: 'Do you think I should try to help you?' There was something that could be hardly defined in that moment, a sort of 'moment of truth'. I could have answered with a joke - and everything would be over. But I... I just did not say anything. I do not know why. The pause lasted for 3-4 seconds and must have been understood as my consent. Nadia's hand slid along my thigh and appeared under my skirt.

I was wearing a mini-skirt and tiny panties only. I stood leaning on the windowsill, my back to the window. Nadia was standing right in front of me, facing me, shutting me from the possible look from the doorway. When she touched my pubis slightly, the agitation that remained after the today's sex and had been almost suppressed flashed inside me against my will. It was already too late to refuse, neither did I feel like refusing. On the contrary, I thought: 'Let it be, cannot be any worse really!'
At first she just stroked my legs, checking if that was ok with me. But I had made up my mind already and even parted my legs slightly giving her the freedom to act. Having sensed that, Nadia pushed my panties aside and... I cannot even describe what happened next. Will just try so that I can remind myself of it once more.

It was all different from what had ever happened to me before. I never imagined it could be so tender. Her swift and light fingers danced down there - stroking, fondling, nibbling slightly. The way she did it made me feel my every little fold, every tiny detail. Her fingers slid and flew pumping up my excitement, then would go down my leg, giving me a break, to come back up with new energy.
Literary in a few minutes I was not thinking of anything, just spread my legs wide, entrusting her with my 'treasure'. I had already been smitten by the huge wave of the strongest desire, I grew weak and put my head on her shoulder. Nadia's movements became faster and my body reacted with counter movement beyond my control. I was catching the movements of her fingers towards my clit, and was trying to move it up to her. She was a kind of controlling my body, it worked on its own - to the rhythm she was setting, like a pick hammer.

I remember... Oh God... At somebody else's kitchen I shamelessly had sex with a lesbian!!!
She responded to my reactions very sensitively. It was enough to respond with a slightest movement or sigh to her touch in a certain spot, she understood it immediately and continued her caress there.
I was at my usual edge already, but there was no spasm - I felt I was on the brink of something. Nadia took off her fingers from the sensitive spot of a few seconds, then got back to my clit and suddenly did several strong and powerful circular movements. And that was it... Fireworks exploded in my head, I collapsed to the floor in convulsions.

The many years of frustration poured out of me with tears and heavy sobbing. I hardly made it from the floor to the chair and sobbed violently shaking all over. Nadia went to the sink, washed her hands and had a cigarette calmly. Men rushed in from the living room to my sobbing, Nadia explained that we were having some 'girls' talk'. Only in about 20 minutes I got back to my senses and spent the rest of the night with a bottle of vodka. Just not to think of what had happened.
On one hand I felt incredibly happy and relieved. On the other I felt ashamed in Nadia's eyes. The whole thing just took a few minutes and was so easy, as if I had been doing nothing but 'coming' all my life. And what were all my complaints worth? Could she be thinking that being a wanton slut I was just looking for sex, desperate to try it with a lesbian?

But the hardest question of all for me was then and is now - how could it happen at all? Am I a lesbian? I never thought I was. But I am not able to make it with my husband still!
Of course we tried to masturbate and did it many times. But my own caress does not really turn me on, I do not feel my own touch as somebody else's. My husband does it better, but still he has no idea, he does not feel how it should be done. He is told to rub the clit, so that is what he does, just rub it monotonously until it sores.
I cannot explain how, it has to be felt, you cannot explain these things. Is same sex my only option really? Poor me...

Lera F.   view profile 

It happened at high school at a sports class when I was climbing a rope. The sensation was very acute and at the most inappropriate moment - when I climbed all the way to the ceiling. I felt a burningly sweet wave coming from the bottom of my belly (from between my legs, to be honest), that made my body numb. I did not feel my arms or legs.

But my head remained absolutely clear. I remember thinking 'I wish I do not fall now!' I was very scared because I could not feel my arms, could not control if they were still clutching at the rope or not, I was only begging them not to loose their grip. I felt as if a swamp of myriads of sweet ants was heaving in my groin. Should I squeeze the rope with my legs just a little bit stronger, the swamp would splash out and spread out throughout my body.

I dangled under the ceiling like a huge pear, unable to do anything. The coach and the class decided I was dizzy because of fear of height. They also were also pretty confused and were trying to advise me something from below. Somebody ran to get more floor-mats to spread them out where I might fall. I hung there desperately trying to soothe the swamp with all my will power, and catch the moment when I could feel my arms again. When I though it finally happened, I released the grip slightly and my body slipped down at a growing speed.

The friction of the rope against my pubis, made 'the swamp' gush so, that I fell down in a convulsively throbbing shapeless pile. That must have been my first orgasm. Anyway after that I had to lie on the floor-mats in the corner for about 20 minutes, not able straighten up myself. And for two hours afterwards I felt sweet aching in my belly and vagina.

That event had a great impact on me. I understood immediately that was the very 'sex' everybody talked about. And when they say that sex is sweet, it is true. And although I was afraid by this first sexual sensation, it got me seriously interested and I started looking for ways to repeat it.

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.

Lera F.   view profile 

I got married about 8 months ago. I cheated on my husband 4 times, and every time I was drunk. I am terribly ashamed for each of those occasions.

When I am sober, I am completely satisfied, I have no need to cheat or look for something better. I can do well without it. But when I am drunk, I became a different woman. That woman does not remember that she has a husband, or, to be more exact, she does not care. She is a wanton insatiable whore any man can use (providing he guesses right).
I do not know where it comes from. Maybe I miss something sex-wise at home (although it all seems ok to me). Maybe it is the memories of the vibrator living in my subconsciousness, demanding outlet for my sexual emotions in the form other than 'family sex'. Or maybe it is simply as the saying goes: "A drunk woman has no ownership of her pussy."

First time it happened when we were celebrating the New Year eve at work. I was very drunk and very excited with other men's attention. There came that 'everything is possible' careless feeling.
I laughed too loud, flirted with everybody, responded to bold looks with even bolder ones... At last there appeared a young man who our 'relationships' began to develop with impetuously. At some stage we split from the crowd with him and went to the stairway landing for a smoke.
Maybe nothing but a couple of kisses would have happened if he had not been pretty drunk himself and hence very daring. He is a rather modest guy when sober. But then, while kissing me, he boldly dipped his hand into my panties and began caressing my clit intensively. I was all horny by then and all wet, so his fingers were more than welcome. I did not even thought of pushing him aside.

And he, holding me by the waist, without letting go of my clit, led me from the third floor downstairs to the basement. There was nobody in the building already, so we met nobody on the way. And there in the basement, he made me bend forward and just fucked me, while I was fidgeting my ass like the last of sluts. Then we got back to our company and continued drinking.
I felt terribly ashamed and embarrassed only in the morning, when I got my senses back. I took an oath to myself never again to get drunk like that, but... I have sinned 3 more times since. With different people but according to the same scenario. : - ((