Growing

For a kid, there are two things that are constantly on personal review:  their bodies, and their experience.  For the first 11-12 years of my life, it seemed like I had way more experience than other girls and a lot less changes in my body.  I knew about sex and enjoyed it, but I was still a virgin and my breasts looked like my little brother's.  The bright spots were my sprouting nipples, swelling flower-like buds mounted on inflating pink mounds . . . higher, but not by much, than the huge expanse of my flat, almost white, boyish chest. 

I always compared myself to my mother, and she was outrageously beautiful.  Being Chinese-Samoan, she was taller than Chinese and more slender than Samoans , but had long dark wavy hair, almost black eyes, tight perky breasts with big nipples, and a sensuous way of walking that made guys want to line up just to look.  I wanted that too, but I was half British, and maybe that slowed my "development".

I enjoyed it when one of my step-sisters sucked my nipples and made them stand up, but it never lasted . . . they'd just get small again.  When they were "up" they looked like little cocks standing at attention, and the ends were so sensitive it made me twitch with pleasure, even when I touched them.  I enjoyed it when one of them got on top of me so I could hold her breasts and suck HER nipples, and wished it was ME.  I liked the way their breasts bounced back and jiggled when I pulled their nipples.  I wanted my breasts to be big enough to stand up and hang down a little.  I wanted breasts to put inside a bra.  I wanted someone to be hungry to see and touch my breasts and nipples.  I wanted MY breasts to get bigger, and my nipples to get hard, and capture the attention of other people.  I saw the way guys looked so hungry when they looked at my mother and sisters.  I wanted to be wanted as they were.  I wanted that power.  

When my mother went into the bank, every guy wanted to help her.  She made a point of wearing clothes that were modest but conservatively revealing, and with a blouse or shirt that would show some of her breasts when she bent over.  She always wore a bra, but preferred the ones that allowed a little nipple-surge to show;  and never wore panties unless she had her period.  Her smile captured everyone, and some of the women.  Truly, she was made for men, made herself up FOR men, and enjoyed the popularity and power that went with it.  

My sisters saw that right away, and began copying her.  Sometimes their Dad would look at them getting dressed [or undressed], and I could see sexual  "heat" in his eyes as he measured the skin under their clothes.  He didn't look at me that way then.  I know for a fact that his daughters enjoyed the effect on him too.  I think sexual power comes natural to a woman, and we learn early to exploit it.  Putting my tongue in that guy's mouth was fun and exciting, but it was also an experiment in what I could do as a girl to make a grown man notice and pay attention to ME.  I think I was not more than two when I remember men of all ages wanting to "pat my bottom", or pick me up with their hand under my fanny and put a finger or two between my little skinny legs.  It wasn't a big deal, and I don't think anyone noticed or cared, but as a girl, it was the beginning of my education concerning men and power, and perhaps, all that prepared me for the time one of them put his hand INSIDE my panties.  The more I learned, the more I wish I'd learned it sooner.

For lots of reasons, I never made a strong distinction between the pleasure I got playing with my brothers or sisters or with men or women later on.  If someone scratches your mosquito bite, does it really change the feeling if the person is male or female?  My conclusion is that most sexual feelings do not care where they come from, as long as they satisfy "the urge" being stimulated;  like being really hungry in a restaurant . . . your mouth and stomach don't care who cooked the meal.  I started playing with myself fairly early, but I found it way more exciting and stimulating when my brother did it, and he felt the same way when I played with him.  I think that's one of the reasons I like my clitoris sucked;  it makes me feel like a little boy.

There is something "extra" when one's brain does not know exactly what the next feeling or touch is going to be, and that anticipation increases the enjoyment a lot.  The first time my sisters played with me together, my brain almost escaped my body it felt so good;  three lips and tongues,  six hands, thirty fingers, four breasts and six nipples [only my nipples counted then],  with our hair and noses and skin touching skin everywhere  . . . it felt like they were me and I was them.  

Guys are stimulating in a different way.  When a guy's cock is soft, it's like a little sleeping toy;  a finger without bones.  I remember climbing into my mother's bed one night when she and her boyfriend were asleep.  His cock was asleep too, until I touched it, at first by accident.  The effect was very interesting;  the more I touched it, the more it "woke up", and grew to tremendous size [my hand could only go around half of it].  I'm surprised I didn't wake him up;  but maybe I did, and he just wanted to lay there and enjoy having this little girl play with him.  in any case, every time I touched or squeezed it, it would jump a little.  Some slippery stuff like spit leaked out of the little mouth on the end.  It didn't smell like pee, and I wanted to taste it.  I remember wondering what I should do next, but ended up doing nothing and it went back to sleep, and me along with it.  

On the other hand, I remember one time with my older brother when I was about 12, we were playing Hide and Seek with some neighbor kids and he and I were hiding in the same spot.  He was in front of me and I was holding onto his legs, but after awhile I could feel his cock get hard against my hand, and that pleased me a lot.  I rubbed it some more;  then faster and faster until  he climaxed and gave away our hiding place with his little scream.  In a way it was funny, but later he wanted me to do it again, without his pants.  I used my mother's lotion and watched his face to see what got the best reaction.  I got pretty good at it;  at least I know I got good results.   His cock would shoot egg-white like a squirt-gun every time I stroked it, puddling in a little lake around his "belly-button".  I could never figure out why some guys have a lot of cream to shoot out, and others only a little, but I have noticed that the ones who have a lot, want more sex sooner than those who have less.   Women are different.

All the girls and women I've known like sex, one way or another;  some can enjoy climaxing several times with me or a guy, and others just want to enjoy endless kissing and touching.  I like both:  the more times they "kum" the more I'm stimulated from the pleasure I give.  I've heard it said that the greatest aphrodisiac is between our ears [our imagination and fantasy] and that "power" is the ultimate sexual turn-on.  Certainly imagination is a powerful stimulant, but for me, knowing that I can control the other person's sexual pleasure is a thrill that never ends.  The less likely my success, the more I try, and the more I enjoy making them lose control and "fly";  so young or old, male or female, strangers or not, I use every gift of my body and mind to bend them to my pleasure.  I observe no limits.