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A Discovery FF First Time

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A Discovery

Having reached the safety of middle age, I have discovered what the young will eventually learn. It matters little what others think of you, rather "Have you become comfortable with who you are?"

Fifteen years ago I never would have had the nerve to put into words the truth of my sexual history. While most erotica is the result of an active imagination working together with long hidden desires, mine is a recounting of some of my more memorable experiences. I have changed the names of those involved, not from a desire to hide the truth, more to protect the privacy of those who have shared some of the most intimate and memorable experiences with me.

My writing is not nearly as graphic as is much that I've read. I find as a woman I'm more enlivened by the build up to intimacy than the sexual act itself. My apologies to those that find my reminiscences dry or boring, it's just me.

I was 14 years old when had my first "Big O" in the company of my ever faithful companion, my right hand. "So that's what all the hubbub was about." From that day forward little else invaded my mind other than the magnificent mind numbing sensations that emanated from between my legs. Today I often chuckle at the comments of others. To me there are 2 kinds of women, 1. Those that admit they masturbate regularly and, 2. Liars. As a teenage girl, I couldn't keep my hands out of my panties, which lead me to events that would forever help me define myself.

I grew up a Navy brat, in Charleston, SC. For those unfamiliar with military life, it is a close-knit community. Support from friends that know exactly what you are going through is available around the clock.

It is a known fact that ships come and go continuously; along with them go the husbands, fathers, lovers and friends that keep them all running. The arrival of a ship is a joyous occasion, reuniting families. At the same time there is a quiet "reshuffling" in order for parents to enjoy some private time. Unknown to me I had become a part of the "reshuffling", and that's how my discovery started.

About the same time I discovered masturbation, I began receiving invitations to baby-sit for others. I slowly began to understand how well organized the "support" groups actually were. While a ship is at sea, the wives have a regular weekly get-together, usually on Friday or Saturday evenings. There they exchange news, tips, bargains and the ever-popular advice about the plumber or mechanic that won't rip you off should you require their services.

By the age of 15, I had several ladies I sat for, but Melanie was by far my favorite. Around her it was just time to be me, no prying inquisitions, no strange looks, no half answered questions. Melanie was the first adult that treated me as a peer rather than a child; I savored my talks with her.

It was the spring of my 15th year, an otherwise normal Friday evening. I'd been invited to watch Melanie's 1 year old girl, Caroline, while she went to the weekly "Wives Meeting". With schoolbooks in hand I arrived at about 5:30, long before the 7 o'clock requirement, allowing time for any last minute instructions she might have before leaving and to ensure she could finish getting ready without the demands that an toddler continually makes of a mothers time. Her instructions were short, little different than ever before, delivered during the final stages of getting dressed.

God, how I envied her! I was a late bloomer, although I sported a lush growth of auburn hair on my pubic mound, my breasts were another story. For over a year they had been developing at about the same pace as a snail out for a Sunday stroll. With the ever present itching and aching that girls the world over have come to accept, my breasts seemed determined to take their sweet time announcing to the world that I was becoming a woman. Not so with Melanie, I had discovered that she had a variety of C and D cup bras to restrain the magnificent pair that I secretly wished I would soon be able to match. Until then, I could only wait and content myself with the knowledge that my "almost B's" adored all the attention I could give them.

After her departure, I gathered the pillows from the bedroom and set them on the floor in the living room, I was always afraid of bumps and bruises on "my watch" as young Caroline learned to walk while holding onto any number of pieces of furniture. I had learned to keep a watchful eye on her meanderings, always ready to toss a pillow between her and any menacing obstructions that she might tumble near. Just like clockwork, by 8 o'clock she had settled down with the ever-present thumb in her mouth. Time for a last feeding, before she fades off to that world where the mind takes us in our sleep, where all is safe and wonderful.

Melanie nursed, and thusly had several 'self prepared" bottles in the refrigerator, after warming one I returned to the living room and gently propped the bottle alongside Caroline with the same pillows I had earlier used as her safety cushions. If the truth were known I had, on a couple of occasions, sampled the milk left over in the bottles after she was done. I found it to be an almost indescribable taste. Sweet with just a hint of tartness to it and although not as thick as the milk you get from the store it had a much fuller flavor.

I had, many times, watched as Melanie nursed wondering at the gentle half smile that appeared as she gave of herself so willingly. I had also secretly made an attempt to mimic her nursing; Caroline had once been offered my diminutive buds in an attempt to discover the sensations her mother had so obviously enjoyed. My first attempt was crude as she had little interest, until I dipped a finger into her bottle and spread a little of her mother's milk on my nipple. Whether she could see the milk or if she could smell it, I honestly don't know but I did discover the joyous sensations to be found when a mouth engulfs you. Without a continual milk supply to reward her, Caroline had quickly become disenchanted with my futile effort but I had discovered that the itching and aching vanished with a mouth firmly wrapped around my nipple, awakening sensations that had lead to other regions.

As I watched her mouth slowly working the nipple of the bottle, I dreamily envisioned that same mouth at my breast, gently massaging me to tender erotic awakenings. Naturally, I let my fingers do the walking as my hand gently slid beneath my sweater in an ascent to the buds that craved further attention. Amongst the tender tweaks, caresses and often, not so gentle kneading I slowly ascended towards that heavenly place we all know. The place where the body feeds the mind and the mind feeds the body, gently warming to where the insistence of the body takes on a mind of it's own.

Remembering my responsibilities, I discovered that Caroline had drifted into dreamland also; although I doubt her dreams were as interesting as mine had been. Torn between responsibility and desire, I slowly arose to gather this darling little bundle and carry her off to bed. Having assured myself that all was well, Caroline tucked safely in her bed, door half open to shield her from any stray light yet open to ensure any sound emanating from her room would not go unnoticed. I finally settled back on the couch to delve into what little homework I had brought along.

YEAH RIGHT! After 20 minutes attempting to decipher the otherwise simple mysteries of algebra, I gave in realizing my mind and body had other, more urgent, problems that needed to be addressed. What I had started over a half hour ago begged for consummation. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift, back to the warm glow that I knew would eventually lead to the most wonderful sensations I had ever known. Again my hand found its way under my sweater, this time pushing my bra up to ensure a less restricted access to the two mounds that had started it all.

It wasn't long before more tender regions begun weeping, announcing their desire for attention. Ever mindful that it's easier to straighten a skirt than to pull up your panties, I removed my panties and dropped them on the floor, safe in the knowledge that I was on my own for several more hours.

I loved the silky feel of my feminine folds, slick with the juices that came with the arousal of my passion. I have no idea how long I played, savoring the sensations that one by one crept in, gently building towards the joy that I knew was yet to come. I know I had surpassed that point where the mind blocks out all else and simply relishes the moment, I know because the next thing I heard was:

"OH MY!"

Instantly snapped from my self-indulgent revelry, I opened my eyes to find Melanie standing in the doorway eyes wide in disbelief at the sight of her babysitter with one hand on her breast and the other fumbling between her wide spread legs. My fate lay before me, the woman that I admired and respected, she who had shown me understanding and consideration was now looking at me in shock. I was on display much like the "little tramps" I had been warned about.

Shame and sorrow suddenly flooded me, tears flowed down my cheeks as I straightened my clothes. I looked at her and offered a tearful apology, assuring her that it would never happen again. I also implored her not to tell my mother, whom I knew would launch into a lecture about all the tramps and sluts of the world and how I was well on my way to becoming one in the same. At this point she surprised me! While I anticipated her yelling and screaming that I couldn't be trusted or that I had destroyed our friendship, I was totally unprepared for her response.

As I half looked at her through tear filled eyes, her whole being seemed to soften and a gentle smile appeared. She bent slowly and picked up the pillows, in doing so she said she was going to check on the baby and change her own clothes, that she'd be back in 15 minutes so we could talk.

Looking back now, at something that occurred over 20 years ago, I half suspect those 15 minutes were left open that I might conclude what had so abruptly been interrupted. Believe me, at that moment, that was the last thing on my mind. I gathered my books in a pile on the coffee table, located my panties on the floor and quickly stuffed them in my purse and sat hands folded in my lap for what I knew was going to be the most difficult "talk" of my lifetime.

True to her word, 15 minutes later she returned, much to my dismay she was smiling as she laid $5 on top of my schoolbooks. She then silently went to the kitchen, quickly returning with two sodas one of which she offered to me as if nothing had ever happened. I was bewildered, what I anticipated was a severe scolding and a lecture at the very least, what I received instead was the same caring and consideration I had always known.

As more a peace offering than anything else, I picked up the money from the table and held it out to her, explaining that it wouldn't be right to accept it. With the warmest of smiles she reached out to me and rather than taking the money back she simply pushed the bills into my hand saying, "That's absurd, you earned it, you keep it." With that a quizzical look crossed her face as if some unspoken question lay at the threshold daring to spill forth. Finally she asked me if I trusted her, "Of course" I responded, unsure of where this was leading. She then informed me that she needed to make a phone call, that it was imperative that I make absolutely no noise whatsoever while she was on the phone. She then assured me that she would never do anything to hurt me in any way.

About 15 seconds into that phone call I wanted to scream and run out the door as I realized the call, was to my mother. A doctor will tell you that your heart beats steadily from before you are born until your final breath; Liars! I am certain my heart stopped beating, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't even move with the certainty that my greatest fears would be realized with the passing of the next few words between them. Instead I heard Melanie's soft melodic voice telling my mom that all was well, that she had just returned home to find me asleep on the couch with my books open on the coffee table. She then asked if it would be all right if I spent the night as she would enjoy having someone to talk to in the morning. Knowing what I know now would have helped me understand my mother's enthusiastic response. Mom, no doubt had visions of uninterrupted "private time" of her own dancing in her head.

With that the phone call ended, Melanie returned to the couch with me and reaffirmed "I told you I would never do anything to hurt you, now do you feel better?"

Relief at her words simply poured out of me as another cascade of tears streamed down my cheeks. She had shown me more love and understanding than I could consume and chosen not to deliver what I undoubtedly deserved.

As I bowed my head, partly to hide the tears and partly in shame for my indiscretion, she reached forth and tenderly wiped a tear from my cheek, "Whatever has happened can't be all that bad, let's dry those eyes and see if we can get to the bottom of all this."

With that the truth began to flow out of me like a river that's been dammed up too long. I began explaining about my concerns that I seemed to lag behind so many of my classmates in my development, how I envied the fullness of the curves she carried so well. I admitted to having sampled the remains of Caroline's bottle and even about my awkward attempt to mimic her nursing and finally, once again, apologizing for the scene she had witnessed on her arrival home. A soft chuckle seeped from her continuous smile as she proclaimed, "Sounds perfectly normal to me." Was I hearing her right, did she not understand? I had just divulged my greatest fears, my most dreaded weakness, the naughtiest of indiscretions and my most shameful behavior, and she thought it was normal?

For the longest time, I listened, as she explained how my every thought and every act was undoubtedly repeated thousands of times each day all over the world. Young girls caught in temporary limbo between childhood and womanhood shared the exact same fears, concerns, curiosities and desires as I did. As far as fanning the flames that resided between my legs, "Relax, everyone does it." My little secret wasn't a secret after all? Melanie firmly proclaimed that every one of my classmates did it, my mother did it, and even she did it far more than anyone imagined.

Explaining that she had something to do she went to the kitchen and quickly returned with what appeared to be a clear funnel with an equally clear plastic tube attached. This was unlike anything I had ever seen and wondered what purpose it must serve. That question was answered as she unbuttoned her blouse and opened her bra revealing a breast whose nipple was almost instantly adorned with little white pearls that melted together and slowly created a little stream that began finding it's way towards her chest. The funnel was soon held against her breast and she began to squeeze a section of the tube with her free hand. I was fascinated as a steady stream erupted from her making it's way down the tube into a jar that was firmly attached to the other end. After about ten minutes she informed me that this wasn't near as good as she felt when feeding her daughter, but it was something that needed to be done. Moments later she removed the funnel and bared her other side to my view, hesitating only momentarily she offered me the funnel and invited me to drain her remaining breast. There was no hesitancy on my part; I was enthralled with the intimate moments I was witness to. I had become a part of what women the world over knew and understood. I was being welcomed into womanhood.

After a few minutes of this Melanie lifted her hand holding the nearly empty bottle I had earlier used to feed her daughter. As she held the bottle she turned to me and asked, "Can you keep a secret?" My response in the affirmative brought a wink, "From her reaction, Caroline assures me she prefers her milk fresh from the source. How about you?" Caught up in the moment I was thrilled at the opportunity to share so tender a moment with her. Never once letting my eyes leave hers, I slowly brought my mouth to where the funnel had so recently been.

As I gently suckled her breast I saw her eyes close and that gentle half smile slowly appeared. Now I understood why "fresh from the source" was better, not only did the feel of the real thing add a comforting new element but the faintly tart taste was missing too. I knew I was doing something right as she assumed the same expression she had when nursing her daughter. This was heavenly! Alas, it ended too soon as evidenced by a slowing of the flow and a subtle change in the taste of her milk.

As we disengaged, she reassembled her clothes and collected the things we had used to collect some future meal for her daughter. As she walked to the kitchen I watched her, I became aware of feelings I had never before imagined. With Melanie I felt a closeness that was nearly impossible to describe, at the same time there was an emptiness at her leaving. Although she was little more than 15 feet away, I missed her, I missed her touch, I wanted her at my side again.

Returning, she sat beside me, closer this time, she reached out and drew me to her as we shared a hug. Finally she kissed me on the cheek and whispered; "So much for curiosity, didn't hurt a thing, did it?" Setting back on the couch she propped her feet up on the coffee table as I cuddled up close at her side resting my head on her shoulder. This was absolutely divine, I felt a slow melting as if I had become a part of my surroundings, everything was peaceful, I was safe with Melanie at my side.

How long we sat like this I neither remember nor care, it could have lasted forever and I would have been happy. Eventually she shifted just a little, and raising the leg farthest from me placing her foot at the edge of the table she rubbed her leg as if to relieve an itch. As she did so her skirt cascaded down her leg coming to rest at her waist. The hand with which she rubbed her leg changed its tempo and touch, becoming more a grazing of her flesh with fingertips. Her fingers continued the caress, gently and slowly exploring, straying ever closer to the skirt that lay piled in her lap. As I watched transfixed, her hand settled into a slow rhythmic massage at the juncture of her thighs. Gentle sighs escaped her lips as her hips began to move ever so slightly. Raising her skirt more fully to her waist revealed a full blond bush to my gaze. Her hand was quick to return to the ministrations she gave herself soon disappearing to where heavenly sensations lie waiting.

As Melanie continued her own journey I slowly became aware of her free hand lazily drawing unseen images on my own thigh. Light as a feather, tender and inviting her hand gently drifted upward eventually grazing the same regions I had earlier explored myself. This time it was I that raised the skirt for her, as I did so my legs drifted apart, surrendering to the touch I craved. Again as fingers caressed the satiny folds of my passion I lost track of all else, while little different than what I had done myself numerous times, this was far better. I discovered my left hand had taken on a mind of its own as it lay on her stomach, fingers gently combing the hairs above where she played. It was her hand that joined mine, fingers interlaced, together we caressed the mound above where Venus awaits. She led me towards her passion as her silky flesh yielded to my touch. As my finger grazed her button a delicious moan found my ear. This was far better than anything I had relished before. Not only was I receiving the attention I had learned to love, much more, I was giving the same.

After what could have been hours, but was probably mere moments, she turned towards me and placing a hand against my cheek she lowered her lips to mine as she shared with me my first kiss, long and lingering. Drifting away until our lips were mere inches apart I opened my eyes to a loving gaze as she whispered, "There's a better way, come with me."

Rising together, she took my hand and led me to her bedroom. With the flick of a switch a soft red glow filed the room. I had seen these two lights many times before perched atop either nightstand, but until now, had never appreciated the effect they gave. Once at the edge of her bed we stopped and again she drew me near, embracing once again in a kiss as hands flowed along my back. Stepping back she unbuttoned her blouse letting it drift off her arms to the floor. Next came her bra, which joined her blouse unceremoniously. Finally she unsnapped her skirt, which she slowly lowered as far as her arms reached, then almost unnoticed, releasing it to join the clothes already cast aside. Before me, in all her natural glory, stood the woman I loved. The eyes that never had looked down on me, the smile that was as much a part of her as her hair, the lips I had moments before tasted. Beyond that the breasts I envied standing firm and proud and below that the soft tuft of blond hair hiding the passion I had so recently explored.

Drawing near once again her arms engulfed me, my arms instinctively raised as my sweater was swept over my head. She began to fold my sweater rather than cast it aside, my response was to take it from her hands and set it adrift to join those items already at her feet. This time it was I that moved to her, embracing and turning as we tumbled onto her bed. Our kiss became more urgent as hands trailed endlessly over soft warm flesh. I felt the grateful release of pressure at my chest as my bra fell slack; her hands ever so slowly drew it from my body till it too disappeared over the edge of the bed. Finally her hands tugged the waistband of my skirt, my hips rose to meet her as the last vestige of modesty was swept from my body.

Again we joined together lying side by side, I thrilled at the touch of flesh against flesh as hands drew insistent patterns, exploring one another. Our mouths pressed firmly together, my lips parting as her tongue caressed them momentarily. I had never envisioned the sensations that bubbled to the surface as tongues intertwined, flicking, flirting and caressing the recesses of my mouth. It was impossible to draw her close enough, though we had come together, continually touching from head to toe, I wanted her closer. Though I knew it to be impossible my mind and body conspired against reason seeking to draw her close enough that eventually we would melt into one being.

Pressing her knee against me, my legs parted as she brought her own to rest at the place where pleasure abounds. Melanie broke our kiss as her lips began softly lighting little fires at their touch as they explored my cheeks, my eyes and onward to my neck.

Arriving at my chest her lips left a trail of dew as they playfully caressed one spot then another, teasingly venturing close to my nipples only to retreat leaving me wanting ever more. When finally her tongue slithered across my nipple sending little twitches throughout my body, my hips strained against her as I began to pulse against the thigh that had found its way between mine. As her mouth engulfed me, I arched my back as if attempting to force my entire breast into her mouth, at the same time the rhythm of my hips grew more fevered.

I wanted to scream; "Don't leave!" as her mouth left my breast and the thigh I had ridden so lovingly slipped from my grasp. I felt her nipples graze my stomach, then my hips and finally my legs followed closely by the mouth from which I had received so much. I felt her breath amongst the soft fur above my passion, tongue and breath playing together again igniting sensations I had learned to explore myself and yet these were better, their beginnings seemed rooted far deeper in my being than anything I had previously been able to accomplish.

My legs parted ever farther, giving her access to whatever she desired. I moved against her as a tender flicking invaded my folds, what a sensation as her tongue caressed its way up to my button. As she took my button between her lips her tongue became as a butterfly, licking and flicking everywhere at once. After mere moments, or perhaps hours, of this a bubble burst within me. Gently, yet swiftly, growing in intensity to envelope my whole body. My back arched into her, my body convulsed as if little electric triggers were going off repeated throughout me.

My body slowly subsided leaving me nearly breathless. Glancing down, I discovered her glowing face above the chin she rested on my leg, with a silent wink she slid below my view as her tongue once again invaded my passion extending to explore the recesses that as yet had never been touched. Her face moved slowly upwards, finally ending in a farewell kiss to my button.

Melanie arose to lay beside me, her hands once again playfully caressing my flesh. I was somewhat dismayed that she didn't return to share another kiss and as I rolled to face her I brought my lips to hers. I was surprised at the heavy scent that came from her, the tart taste of her lips. I cared not, I only cared to continue as close to her as was physically possible.Gently she pushed me onto my back, fingers gliding from my neck to my legs and back again, as she began to speak:

"The embarrassing position I found you in when I returned home, was indeed awkward, for both of us. The feelings you were exploring will some day in the future be enhanced by what you will share with the man you marry. But as you know, the men in our lives are not always there for us, and so we turn to one another to ease the tensions all women share. Many women, not all, share this little secret time we have with one another. Some enjoy it more than others, and some not at all."

Her words made perfect sense to me, I was by no means repulsed by the boys in school, although I was often dismayed at their boisterous show-off ways. What concerned me most though, was the fact that she had been hesitant to kiss me again after what we had shared. She quickly explained that not all women enjoyed tasting themselves and she intended for me to go as I wanted of my own free will. With that I rolled to her again and kissed her fully, savoring the scent I had left on her face, my tongue sought hers in hopes of finding some lingering morsel of my moisture.

As she had done with me, my kisses strayed, discovering my remnants scattered about her face. As my hand found her breast, I remembered the milk she had earlier shared with me. With a naughty twinkle in eye, my mouth ventured towards her breast to once again sample her sweet offering. She slowed me only long enough to inform me that "There won't be as much as there was before, if any, and it may take a few moments to flow." That was fine with me as I adored these globes, milk or no milk I had known the feeling of her lips on mine and I was committed to giving her the same.

It did take a few minutes to start, and as it did I was aware of a subtle movement from her hips. Reaching down I discovered her hand buried between her legs. Feeling I had neglected a source of far greater passion I attempted to slide my hand under hers and take over the responsibilities that I felt were mine. With a soft chuckle she let me know, "We will have plenty of time for that. For the moment you are my little girl, content yourself in knowing that you at my breast is exactly what I need for now, tomorrow is another day." Returning my full attention to the offering that flowed from her it was but a few short moments before I felt a familiar quiver course through her. A number of little sighs escaped her lips as she convulsed beside me. As she subsided I once again moved to kiss her, the kiss was soft and gentle this time, long and lingering.

Laying back, at her side I reached for the hand she had used while I nursed. Lifting it to me, I took her fingers in my mouth letting my tongue explore between each one. Removing her fingers from my mouth, I gave a wink and repeated her words; "Tomorrow, is another day!"

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