That all-consuming [f]ire: or, the sexual awakening of a queer girl in the backwoods of America

How did it happen? Were these feelings always buried deep inside me?

For years and years, really all my life, sex meant nothing to me. I didn’t fear it, I didn’t crave it, I didn’t seek it out or shun it. My school explained the mechanics, and my parents explained the rest, in idiom, in metaphor, in love. But, it felt as interesting as a game of cricket or a description of a Civil War Battle.

But then, towards the end of my senior year, a switch was flipped. There was no inciting incident, no story, no moment. But, slowly at first, I started seeing my girl friends…differently. I noticed the curve of their legs, from knee to ankle, I noticed their chests and soft eyes, the ringlets in their hair. At night, in bed, I felt my pussy glowing, growing wet and wild, and I couldn’t sleep until I envisioned my friends’ bodies touching mine, writhing and wriggling under my fingertips, their nipples in my mouth, their hands around my neck, their fingers inside me, their soft wet kisses dotting my neck, my thighs, my eager lips.

I was at a sleepover last week. My friends and I were sad and excited and scared and joyful for graduating high school, so we had a classic throw-back slumber party. After they all fell asleep, I laid awake on the floor, wrapped in blankets, listening to their breathing, imagining their breasts rising and falling, and I felt my hungry pussy, and I rubbed it slowly, inches away from my sleeping friends, wanting so badly to touch them, to be touched.

I’m in a small town in America, close to a couple Civil War battlefields. My graduating class is 122 kids. There is one gay boy. No lesbians. At least not out. I’m escaping here for college at the end of the summer. My mind is buzzing with all the possibilities, but I’m nervous and woefully inexperienced. At night, when I can’t sleep, I’ll take my ancient Hello Kitty coin purse, filled now with weed, and my little bowl, and I’ll drive to one of those battlefields, park along the edge, smoke until the car is filled with clouds, and touch myself in the hazy dark. And always the image of long-legged women, always heaving breasts, always the soft inviting pussies of the girls I grew up with.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/bxxzfo/that_allconsuming_fire_or_the_sexual_awakening_of

1 comment

  1. Girl join a rugby or softball team where every you are. Helped me sooo much finding girls with no game and no experience.

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