Tiffany stood at the window watching the rain come down. The rain always put her in a foul mood. At 25, she felt like a has-been, as if she had already reached the pinnacle of her life. Twelve years ago she had won a state and regional championship in freestyle gymnastics. And then a year later she had won a U. S. championship, then a world championship. At fifteen, she had actually won a gold medal at the Olympics. She loved gymnastics and still worked out on a daily basis. She was still lithe and trim. At 5’ 3” and 102 lbs of solid muscle she could still give the younger girls a run for their money. She still looked like she was fifteen, except she never developed any tits to speak of, just some soft little mounds on her chest. She kept herself fit, very fit, just so she could enjoy her next favorite activity, eating pussy. She still lived at home. Her parents had insisted, after all they had helped sponsor her and had built the special work out gym next to the house. They had hired her couch and paid him well. They could afford it, she knew. They insisted that it would pay off in the long run. So far, she had done several TV commercials but nothing big. Tomorrow she had an audition for a big endorsement.
“Maybe I could be a contortionist in the Circus,” she mused. “I can still do things with my body that nobody else can do.”
She let her hand slid down her body, across her flat stomach and over the top of her slick satin brief panties. She let herself feel the cool slickness of the satin. She loved the way it felt, especially wet. She didn’t like bikini or thong panties, she liked briefs, satin ones. There was more to get wet, with briefs and that’s what she liked, soaking wet, satin panties. She let her hand slid further down to her pussy, spreading her knees, and squatting slightly, as she stood at the window. She worked her middle finger between her pussy lips, trying to force the crouch of her panties into herself. She could feel herself getting damp.
“Mmmm,” she moaned to herself, letting her mind slip back, back in time. To the first time, she had felt this, this pleasure between her legs. This sweet wet pleasure that she loved so much.
It was several years ago now, when she was 18, but she remembered it well. Her Aunt and Uncle had come to visit along with her cousin Jeremy. She had been in the gym just doing some warm up exercises when Jeremy came in to watch. He was four years older than she was at the time. She didn’t know him very well, having only met him twice before. She worked out for a few more minutes than came over to talk with him.
“You look pretty sexy dressed like that,” he had said.
“What do you mean, sexy,” She had replied, looking down at her one-piece workout togs.
“You make me horny watching you,” he answered.
“What does horny mean,” She asked.
“It means this,” he sneered, as he grabbed her and kissed her on the lips. He pushed his hand between her legs and started rubbing her groin.
“Stop it,” She yelled, turning her head to the side.
He grabbed the back of her head and smashed his mouth against hers again. She tried to push him away, but he was twice as big as she was. He just kept groping at her groin. She bit his lip in defense and he let go. She backed away from him but he came after her. He grabbed her hair and thrust his hand between her legs again.
“I’ll show you,” he fumed.
“Jeremy!” I heard my dad yell from the doorway.
Jeremy’s head jerked around to the sound of his name. He froze as he saw my dad. My hair in one hand and my crouch in the other. As soon as my dad started across the mats on the floor, Jeremy let go and started to back away.
“I didn’t mean anything sir,” Jeremy pleaded as my dad approached him. “She asked for it, can’t you see?”
My dads hand flew back and then faster than she could see he hit Jeremy across the face, knocking him to the floor. He reached down, grabbed the front of his shirt, and hit him again, and then again. Blood was flowing from Jeremy’s nose.
“John, stop!” Tiffany heard my mother say.
“John, stop it!” She heard her uncle yell, as he ran across the room.
“Get this fucking piece of shit out of my sight before I kill him!” her father hissed, as he flung Jeremy through the air at her uncle. “And if I ever see him again I will kill him!”
It was the first and last time she’d ever heard her dad use profanity. And it was the last time she ever saw her Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin, ever.
Her Mom rushed up to her to see if she was hurt.
“Did he hurt you,” she cried.
“No, not really, he just pulled my hair and stuck his hand in my crouch.” She answered. “Mom, why did he stick his hand in my crouch anyway? What did he do that for?”
“You just never mind, baby,” she cried more, hugging me close. “He’s just a nasty, dirty boy, but he’s gone now so don’t been afraid.”
Later that night, after all the excitement, she was lying in bed, thinking. ‘Jeremy hadn’t really hurt her, except for pulling her hair and trying to kiss her. That was gross.’ But the more she thought about it, the more she decided that she did like the way her crouch felt when he stuck his hand there. It felt kinda good; it made her feel ‘tinglely’ inside. She spread her legs and put her own hand in her crouch, over her cotton panties. It did feel good. The more she rubbed the better it felt. After awhile she could feel herself starting to get a little wet. She thought she’d pee'd her panties, but it was just a little wet and she didn’t feel like she had to go pee anyway. She never thought it was gross or anything, she liked the way it felt when she touched her crouch. She did this for the next several months, each night she would rub her crouch because she liked the feeling. But it just never seemed to be enough, it seemed like something was missing, but she didn’t know what.
A couple of weeks later, she was sitting in the lunchroom at school listening to the others girls talk. She never really listens to them, they were always jabbering about this hot boy or that hot boy. She didn’t care much for boys, she thought they were gross, always strutting around like they were somebody, and they never were. But then one of the girls said something that caught my attention.
“If you put your finger way up inside and then curve it back it feels really good. Especially if you can get a boy to do it, it feels even better.” She was saying.
“What do you call that, when you stick your finger inside?” an other girl asked.
The first girl leaned over and whispered quietly, “If a boy does it, it’s called finger fucking, if you do it to yourself, it’s called masturbating.”
‘Masturbating’, is that what she had doing to herself. It sounded like it, so she listens more.
“What if you’re a virgin,” an other girl asked. “Can you get your finger in?”
“Nobodies a virgin anymore, stupid,” the first girl said.
“I am,” the girl across from her said.
“Me too,” replied another.
“What if another girl puts her finger inside you,” Tiffany asked. “Is that still finger fucking, I mean when a girl does it and not a boy?”
They all turned and looked at her, saying nothing.
Finally the first girl said, “Well I suppose so, but it also means your queer. Are you a queer little Olympic queen?” she sneered. “Do you want a girl to put her finger in your pussy instead of a boy?”
“No,” Tiffany blushed, turning red with embarrassment and shame, dropping her eyes to the table in front of her, “I was just wondering.”
The lunch bell went off telling everyone that classes would start again in fifteen minutes. She waited for everybody to get up and leave before she moved. Everyone did except Madeline, she sat across from her.
“Tiffany,” she whispered.
“What,” Tiffany whispered back.
“If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you something.”
“Tell me what?”
“Promise first,” she whispered.
“Ok, I promise.” Tiffany replied.
She hesitated for a minute, and then whispered very softly, “If you want a girl to stick her finger in your pussy, I would like to do it. I mean, if you want me to.”
Tiffany was neither shocked nor afraid, she was elated. Here was a girl offering to finger fuck her and it really hadn’t even occurred to her to do it. It wasn’t something she had even thought about. It was just something she’d said off the top of her head. But once she said it, she knew she wanted her to do it, to finger fuck her. Her panties were getting soaked, more soaked than they had ever been before.
“I mean, I not queer, or anything, I just thought if you wanted a girl to do it, I would do it for you. Ya know, just to help you out, or something.”
Tiffany looked down at her hands lying on the table, at her fingers. All she had to do was say ok, and she could have one of those fingers, one of those beautiful girl fingers in her pussy. The image flashed through my mind of her hand between my legs and a finger in her pussy.
“But I’m still a virgin,” Tiffany whispered. “How would you get your finger in? Don’t I have to let a boy fuck me first?
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