An erotica I wrote from personal experience šŸ™ˆ

It was the March of 2005. A hot summer afternoon. It was especially hot that year. I remember sitting in the shadow of a banyan tree. The ghost tree other students called it as there were rumours that the tree was haunted. It stood out from the rest of the trees in our school and not a lot of students went near it. For me, it was a perfect place. A place of solitude in an innocent time of my life. A place where I could be by myself and do things that I couldnā€™t do elsewhere. I was young and had just started discovering my sexuality, a sort of exhibitionist. I could feel my body changing. Every inch of it. My breasts were getting bigger and my hips curvier. I felt different sensations that were alien to me. It was an exciting time and I was on a journey to discover what secrets my body held.

Schools in India are tough on young girls. Unlike western countries, girls had to wear a uniform that restricted us from showing off our bodies. I wasnā€™t allowed to freely flaunt my big breasts and our skirts were long enough to extend below the thighs. We all looked the same and we all felt the same. I always liked my freedom and hated this dress code.

My mother, as caring as she was, was strict and made sure I was properly covered. She wanted to make sure her daughter was safe. During those days, she dressed me up and made sure that I was wearing tights over my panties. I, on the other hand, hated the idea. My freedom was being taken away from me.

As I continued with my journey and discovered more about my sexuality, I also made sure that I was free from these restrictions. I started removing my tights on my way to school and started playing with my body. On my way back, my panties were always wet from the joy. There were special days when they were soaked in my juices and had this underlying scent on them. This kept happening for days and one day after coming back from school, I sniffed my wet underwear. I couldnā€™t control the feeling I got from it. The smell was maddening and made me go crazy. It was like a drug that I got hooked on. Then there were days when my mother sent all my underwear for laundry and that sweet smell was lost. I was so hooked that I didnā€™t want to lose the precious smell again, so I made sure to hide some pairs from everyone. I wore them from time to time and kept them hidden. The more used them, the stronger the smell grew. Each time I sniffed them, I was instantly turned on. It was the best feeling in the world.

I always had this question in my mind ā€˜is this beautiful smell unique to me or can others feel it too?ā€™ I was innocent you see. To make sure, I devised a plan.

I wanted to find out more about others from my class and if they were attracted to the smell as well. So, one day I removed my tights and hid them in the girlā€™s toilet. I touched my body and used my fingers in the best way possible. The break got over and I started heading towards my class.

I came back turned on beyond my wildest dreams. So wet, that my panties were soaking in my bodily juices. It was time to see if others could experience the heavenly smell as well. I fluffed up my skirt a bit so that the smell could get out. I couldnā€™t know if anyone caught it but I wanted to make sure that they did. It was then that I came up with a brilliant idea. I used my bench partner, a young innocent boy as my test subject. I dropped my pencil near my feet and asked him to get under the bench and get it for me.

I wanted to make sure that the experiment was a success, so I hiked my skirt higher, and let the smell escape. He froze for a minute, looked underneath my skirt, took

a deep breathe and felt a strong tingle. He quickly came back up fearing that Iā€™d notice him. Upon his return from heaven, he nervously smiled at me and at that very moment, I knew that my experiment was a success. It was one of the most exciting time of my sexual life. The exhibitionistic sensation was beyond amazing and I didnā€™t want it to end there. Neither did he.

The next time he dropped his pen and went under the bench, I hiked my skirt higher, to let the smell escape even further and my wetness kept oozing. His breath was deeper than the last time and I let him I my saturated smell to his heartā€™s content.

The rest of the day was spent with him finding different excuses to get under the bench and me hiking my skirt higher and higher. The day grew hotter and the temperature kept rising. We reached a point where I could observe a big bulge inside his pants and he could see my cotton stained damp and strongly scented panties sitting a straight. I wanted him to see them. I wanted him to smell them. I made no effort to hide. He could see my cameltoe and my young bush and through my wet panties and I only made it easier for him to see it all.

This went on for a few days. I kept hiding my panties and the smell grew stronger every day. Often, there were times when my sweet smell crossed boundaries and reached even further. A lot of people could smell it but couldnā€™t figure out where it came from. Iā€™m sure all of them were turned on.

As summer reached its peak, I grew lustier and lustier with time and I kept wanting more.

One day I hiked up my skirt all the way up from the front and I took it off from under my butt too. Finally, my hips and the curve of my sweaty ass was clearly visible through my juicy wet panties along with my front. It was so intense. One touch of my body would drench the bench with my juices. I was on a peak of sexual desire and I became wetter and wetter with each passing second. Drops fell down the bench and it became wet too. I smiled to myself and enjoyed every second of that moment. My partner didnā€™t want to miss the action. Being shy, he tried to sneakily rub his fingers over the droplets and smell them when I looked away. He kept inhaling the sweetness of my juices and I enjoyed every bit of that moment. He got so charged up that he got a full hard on. I offered him a trade. Iā€™d let him touch my juicy area if heā€™d let me touch him. Iā€™m sure he wanted this for days. It was an offer he couldnā€™t refuse. He was a boy after all. He touched me and I touched him and we both experienced a jolt going through our bodies. Our sexual tension heightened to its limits but the time was almost up. The day ended and we parted our ways. I still canā€™t forget that day.

March was about to end and we were also almost done with our final exams. I didnā€™t get a chance to interact with the boy and I desperately wanted to. I wanted to tell him that Iā€™m changing school next year. Finally, on the day of our last exam, I got a chance to meet him briefly and tell him that I had a great experience. Before I departed, I left him with an unforgettable present to remind of our time. I gave him the panty I wore that day. He took it and hid it in his bag. I gave him a good bye kiss and I left. We never met again but I do think about him and that day often. It was one of the best days of my life.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zhpz2j/an_erotica_i_wrote_from_personal_experience

5 comments

  1. This is a wonderful piece of erotica that brings great pleasure to my 73year old mind. Iā€™m not a dirty old man. Just a man who has led a very full and very sexual life, enjoying many of the physical joys of life such as you speak. When I was about fifteen here in the States, I met a very pretty girl from the South. We lived in the Chicago area but she had moved from there from down south. She had a more alluring Southern drawl accent. We met at a dance where I quite nervously asked her to dance. We dated and kissed and made out ā€” nothing major. French kissing and she let me feel her breasts for a moment. I donā€™t think she touched my surely bulging pants. This occurred in the front seat of a big old 1960s American car. One day she invited me over to her house after school to study together. We hardly cracked the books just sneaked a kiss or little feel in between her mother entering and leaving the house to do errands. When mom left we frantically went at it, sitting at a small table adjacent to a window overlooking the street where her mom would park the car, giving us plenty of warning to fake book worming or penciling some bogus homework. This day, something was different about her. A scent or fragrance of such and a strange alluring glow I had never seen before. She wore a frilly blouse high up the neck and a gray plaited wool skirt ā€” Iā€™ll never forget that skirt for two reasons that will become clear later. She suddenly and without warning grasped my left hand (she was sitting to my left) and pulled it up under her skirt. She was bare legged, having removed her tights after school. Little did I know she was not wearing panties. She gently guided me into fingering her ambrosial juices that were literally flowing down her inner things in a viscous, honey-coat. It blew my mind. It was made more exciting and naughtily dangerous as this was occurring in her family living room and her mother was preparing dinner less than ten feet away, just barely ā€” ever so barely ā€” out of view. By the time I had to leave, as the family dinner was at hand, she had tutored me in my first venture ala finger into that heavenly chamber whence such heavenly delights are prepared. Now that Iā€™m writing this, many years later as a middle age adult, a woman lover sat on a low rocking chair wearing a similar grey wool plaited skirt. She had ā€œthat glow.ā€ In this case, she had taken off her sheer panty hose she was obliged to wear for her high-end corporate job. She startled me by asking me to get on my hands and knees and approach her. I complied, as we had a very fun, sexual friendship. She lifted her skirt as revealed a most glorious mons veneris (sp?) and instructed me in the proper, respectful and dutiful manner of drinking from her heavenly source of elixirs.

    All of this is true. Thank you for triggering those sweet, delicious memories.

    PS Your artwork is delightful! (Iā€™m a fine art photographer, poet, and writer who lives in Upstate New York).

    PPS Be proud of your Earth Goddess body brimming with Shakti! May you meet your Shiva!

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