The Summer I Turned Horny
Marley Quinn
The Summer I Turned Horny
by Marley Quinn
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The Summer I Turned Horny
by Marley Quinn
© 2026 Marley Quinn
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Author: Marley Quinn
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Twitter/X: marleyquinn2000
Book cover, illustration: Marley Quinn
Editing, proofreading: Marley Quinn
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Table of Contents
Copyright Information
Table of Contents
A Very Special Feeling
Great Job
Lit Up
Preparatory Phase
Bubble Ride
Caged Tiger
Frolicking in the Forest
A Palace of Wonders
Customer Service
Pleasure to Play
Opera Production
Wine Talking
Distraction
Unlocking the Magic
Once We’re Married
Woman Stuff
Diamond Kitty
Stay in Touch
Jezebel
Working Girl
Summer School
The Popsicle Game
Break
Peignoir
Girl Kisses
Marcus Johnson
Treatment
French Riviera
Steam
Mixed Up
Glorious Nature
The Love of My Life
Handle
Popular Girl
Lord Bless You
Private Tutor
Biscuits and Gravy
Dust-up at the Church
Protecting My Honor
Special Spot
Mixed-up Girl
Truly Adorable
Stains
Different Flavors
Sugar Game
Wrestling Match
Final Treatment
Perfect Match
Good Vibes
Bull Pucky
Wedding Day
Slip ‘n Slide
Deal
Medicine
Natural Born Healer
Bonding
Back on Track
Maximum Discretion
A Delicate Rose
Mysterious Ways
Swinging
Sizzle
Anything Your Heart Desires
A Little Mess
Prying Eyes
Spilling Lotion
A Woman’s True Beauty
Fondness for Younger Girls
Pussy Cat
Crank
A Little Out of Hand
Perfect Evening
Close Call
Harp Music
All Good in Hollywood
Thanks for the Ride
Speedo
The Pink Oyster
Happy Ending
Greggy
Proud of You
Lies and Half-Truths
Righteous and Good
Wicked
Urges
Beautiful Princess
Feminine Wiles
Insurance
Little Bird
A Good Christian
The Devil Got Your Mind
Hot Tamale
Transform
Streetwalker
Shortcake
A Dream Come True
The Boom-Boom Room
Exhausted But Happy
Golden Palm
Rhythm
Signs
Planned Parenthood
Fresh Start
Rotten Mess
Inheritance
Bedtime Stories
VIP Treatment
Legitimate
Celebration
Also by Marley Quinn
A Very Special Feeling
I had just graduated from high school when the first symptoms of my strange affliction began.
With a whole summer ahead of me to relax and get ready for college, the only thing on my horizon was laying out by the pool and enjoying strolls around the lake with my boyfriend, Bradley, after he got off work from the restaurant.
Really, what more could a girl ask for?
Yet one night, I was plagued by extremely vivid dreams. I don’t remember all the details now, but they had me moaning and thrashing around in bed as powerful images and sensations washed over me. When I woke up, I was completely covered in sweat, and the sheets were a complete mess.
At first, I just chalked it up to the crayfish Bradley had given me for dinner the night before. Sometimes, the restaurant gets a bad batch of seafood, but the thing is, my stomach felt fine. It was the spot between my legs that was the issue. There was a throbbing down there that was both familiar and strange at the same time.
Nonetheless, I tried to ignore it as I gathered up my sheets and took them down to the basement. When I put them into the machine, I noticed there was an odd odor, almost sickeningly sweet and yet also a little musty. I threw in some detergent and pressed the button to get the load started before dashing upstairs as quickly as I could.
“Everything all right, honey?” said my mom after I sat down at the kitchen table.
“Yeah, um, sure,” I said.
“It’s just you look a little pale,” said my mom.
“Oh, I guess I just had a bad dream,” I told her, unable to meet her gaze as a few of the images from the night before popped into my head, wild, savage visions of a naked, muscular man chasing me through the jungle.
“Well, it happens,” said my mother. “A good breakfast and a little sunshine on your face, and you’ll forget all about it.”
“I sure hope so,” I said.
A couple of hours later, I was in the back yard, cutting a few flowers to put in the vase on the kitchen table when the throbbing between my legs started back up.
I did some quick mental calculations to see if maybe it was something to do with my period, but there was none of the usual cramping or feeling bloated. Instead, I just felt really hot and sticky down there, almost like I was sweating.
I brushed it off, but when I happened to glance down, I realized with horror that there was a distinctly wet spot in the front of my crotch.
Luckily, no one was around to see me. I threw down the garden shears and ran into the house and straight up to my room. With my pulse racing, I took off my shorts and examined my panties, terrified that I had somehow pissed myself.
But that wasn’t what it was. Instead, there was a clear, somewhat shiny patch on my underwear, and it had the same odd smell as my sheets.
I changed into a fresh pair of underwear and shorts and then took my soiled clothes down to the basement and threw them in with the sheets.
What in the world was happening to me? Was it some kind of medical issue? Because there wasn’t any pain, and except for the odd throbbing sensation, I felt perfectly normal. It was almost as if my vagina was having some kind of fever, except that didn’t make any sense.
Walking back up to the kitchen, it finally dawned on me what was probably going on. After I got my first period at age 13, there had been times when I had experienced funny new feelings. I’d learned from an educational video that my mom had given me that puberty can unlock a whole range of different sensations inside the female body.
My mom never told me what to do when that happened though, so it took a few midnight experiments before I figured out how to get some relief.
Sometimes I’d lie in bed and squeeze and pull on my breasts, kind of like I was kneading bread. Other times, I’d roll over and put my pillow between my thighs, pretending that I was riding a horse across some vast, grassy meadow.
Either way, after a while I’d feel this tightness build up inside of me, but then it would burst like a bubble popping, causing me to tremble all over for a minute or so, and then I’d feel much better afterward.
Still, those strange new sensations had never really caused me much trouble before. Occasionally, if I saw a cute guy in a movie, or if Bradley told me I looked pretty, or if I got an A+ in chemistry, Mr. Johnson would write “Good job!” underneath it in big red letters, it would get me all giddy for a while, but then it would go away on its own.
Of course, I knew that boys had it much different. I’d heard horror tales about how they were constantly wracked by bestial urges that would make all of the blood to rush down to below their waist, getting them get super dizzy.
I tried asking Bradley about it one time, but his whole face went beet red.
All he would tell me is that he got a very special feeling every time we held hands or kissed, and that he loved me with all of his heart.
Great Job
Obviously, I knew that all that blood somehow found its way to a boy's penis, which would swell up and look like it was about to explode.
Sometimes, after Bradley and I were kissing for a while, I’d look down and see a bulge in the crotch of his pants. One time, after he’d been sipping on his mom’s wine coolers, he told me his penis got bigger than a baby’s arm when it was excited, which was a weird visual to think about.
I knew there were girls at my school who were having sex, and some of them even claimed to like it. I also knew that it involved a boy sticking his swollen penis into a girl’s vagina, but the truth is that it all seemed quite awkward and unappealing to me.
I mean, why would I want some baby’s arm thrust inside of me? What good could that possibly do? Anyway, I was saving myself for marriage, and Bradley knew that. That’s why he was such a perfect boyfriend. He was sweet and patient and understanding, everything I could ever want.
So you can imagine the state of confusion I was in when that strange, sticky wetness started leaking out of me. I couldn’t think of anything that could have possibly provoked it, and yet there it was, and the worst part was that I felt suddenly compelled to do something about it.
But what, though? It was so curious, almost like I was hungry, but it wasn’t my stomach that was growling, but my vagina. But vaginas don't eat, so that was a silly metaphor, and yet that’s exactly what it felt like.
Was this some strange new symptom of puberty? That didn’t make sense. I’d already gone through all of the changes years ago, including my hips getting wider and my breasts getting bigger, too big, in my opinion.
When I was younger, I used to love climbing trees and riding my bicycle, but once my boobs got bigger, it made all of those activities so weird. It was like having two bouncing bags strapped to your chest, and the only way to make them stop jiggling all over the place was to lock them inside a tight-fitting bra that made it hard to breathe.
For the rest of the day, I went about my normal activities, doing my best to ignore that throbbing sensation between my legs. Yet the more I ignored it, the worse it got.
At one point, I was sitting on the couch, watching Jeopardy! with my daddy, when I shifted my position just a tiny amount, causing my underwear to rub against a certain spot. That unleashed such an intense sensation that I let out a gasp.
I had to lie to my daddy and tell him a mosquito bit me, which wasn’t any fun, since I hate lying. But I wasn’t about to tell him that the little button between my legs had suddenly become incredibly sensitive.
I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Sure enough, there was another wet spot on the crotch of my panties.
I used some toilet paper to wipe it up, and then I took some more and used it as a pad to try and soak up any future juices. But the toilet paper felt scratchy against my sensitive spot when I pulled up my shorts, so I had to take it all back out and flush it down the toilet.
What in the world was I going to do? I couldn’t risk letting out a shout every time my underwear rubbed me the wrong way. That’s when a flash of inspiration hit me.
I asked to be excused and ran up to my room. I took off my shorts and underwear and changed into a skirt. Yes, without any underwear on, I finally had some relief. Of course, I felt tremendously weird about wearing a skirt without panties underneath, but it was an emergency medical situation.
I then went back downstairs and sat on the couch, and thankfully, everything was normal after that, although I had to keep my legs tightly locked together to prevent anyone from finding out that I wasn’t wearing underwear.
By the time I headed upstairs for bed, I’d completely forgotten about my new situation. I changed into my nightgown, again deciding to skip wearing any underwear for the night, and got under the sheets.
A few minutes later, my mom and daddy came in to kiss me goodnight, and then I switched off the lamp and closed my eyes, ready for sleep.
I dozed off after a few minutes like I usually do. But then the problem got worse, a lot worse, in ways that I never could’ve expected.
Once again, I was haunted by strange and extremely vivid dreams. When I woke up, somehow my nightgown had managed to come off, leaving me completely naked in bed. The sheets were twisted all around my legs, and I was covered in sweat and panting hard.
The only thing I really remembered was that muscular man chasing me through the jungle, his fingers reaching out to graze against my backside as I only just managed to elude his grasp.
This time, it wasn’t just the spot between my legs that was throbbing but also my breasts, which felt hot and heavy. When I reached up to check on what was going on, the slightest touch against my nipples triggered a new wave of intense sensations to wash over me.
There was one fire burning down below and two up top, and I was at a complete loss as to what to do.
I tried closing my eyes, hoping that I’d drift off to sleep, but I was just too agitated. Besides, I just couldn’t find a comfortable position.
The only way I could get a tiny bit of relief was to lie face down with the pillow between my legs, but even playing horsey wasn’t enough. Purely by accident, as I was squirming around, one of my hands grazed my breasts as I was cantering along through that imaginary meadow.
Something about that triggered the image of that man in the jungle from my dreams, and the next thing I knew, I was there, standing next to a stream somewhere deep in the .
The tropical heat was immense, and I could feel perspiration on my skin even though I was completely naked. Desperate to cool off, I bent down and scooped up some water from the stream and dribbled it down my chest.
That made me feel a little better, so I continued doing it, using one hand to lift up a cupful of water from the stream and my other hand to rub it all over my bare skin.
Pretty soon, I had built up a good rhythm, my two hands working in perfect sync as I massaged that wonderful water all over my skin.
The water had a mysteriously silky texture to it, almost as if it had a little oil mixed in or something. It felt luxuriantly silky and smooth, and no matter how much I rubbed it onto my body, I craved more.
My thighs were flexing open and closed as I squatted there by the stream, scooping up that magical liquid. Every drop that landed on my skin seemed to sparkle, sending little pulses of pleasure up and down my spine and shooting all over.
Before I knew it, all of my motions were speeding up, and I was huffing and puffing like a freight train as I squatted, scooped, and rubbed the magic liquid all over me again and again, my hands and thighs moving so fast that they were almost a blur.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of some motion, and when I looked over, I saw that it was the jungle man. He was standing in the shadow of an enormous tree, just watching me.
Normally, I would’ve died of embarrassment if someone saw me naked, but there was something calming about his gaze, and I no longer felt scared of him. In fact, something about the heat of his eyes on me made me feel good, as if he were looking out for me and protecting me.
Feeling much safer now that I wasn’t alone in the jungle anymore, I began to slow down as I continued to massage the magical liquid into my skin.
I realized there was no reason to rush things, so I took my time and savored every drop. From time to time, I’d look over at the muscular man, and he’d give me an approving nod and smile, letting me know I was doing a great job.
Lit Up
Pretty soon, I started to feel a warm glow build inside my chest and then spread out through the rest of my body.
The hotter I became, the more slowly I moved, until my hands were massaging in that special liquid at an exquisitely languid speed, not hurrying in the least as I covered every single inch of my skin, reaching all of my most secret and hidden spots.
Then, to my complete and total surprise, my whole body started trembling as if an earthquake had just ruptured from somewhere deep inside of me.
I froze in place, unsure what to do, and when I looked over, the jungle man had disappeared. Scared out of my wits, I clung onto the trunk of a tree as I was shaken to pieces, every muscle twitching and convulsing as if the very ground underneath me was being torn apart.
And then, just as soon as it had started, it came to an end. My eyes flew open and I rolled over, my breath hitching in my chest.
What in the world had just happened? Had I fallen asleep and had another one of those crazy dreams? But it didn’t feel like a dream, not entirely anyway.
It was more like a state somewhere halfway between reality and fantasy. The skin on my body was certainly damp, but I couldn’t tell if it was from that magical water or just from ordinary perspiration.
The good news was that the burning sensation that had been tormenting me had disappeared. When I reached up and touched my breasts, they felt like they always did, two useless bags of flesh, and the spot between my legs was no longer buzzing.
Relieved that my suffering was over, I got out of bed and went hunting for my nightgown. But as soon as I slipped it on, I immediately pulled it back off.
There was something wrong with my nightgown because the texture was unbearably coarse and scratchy. I’d worn that nightgown for months without a problem, so I couldn’t figure out what the issue was. All I knew was that the thought of it touching my bare skin made me shudder. Something about that dream had made my whole body become exquisitely sensitive.
Knowing that my Momma or Daddy might come in and check on me at any moment, I switched on the light and began going through my closet, checking the garments inside one at a time by briefly rubbing them against my forearm.
I quickly formed a big “no” pile of clothes that were too painful to the touch. Besides my nightgown, pretty much all of my pants went on the “no” pile as well, the only exception being my oldest pair of bluejeans.
I’d worn them so much that, over the years, the fabric had gotten as soft as velvet. The problem was that the seam on the side of the leg had ripped wide open a while back, which is why I no longer wore them. Not sure what to do about them, I made a new pile of “maybe” clothes.
Continuing on, I quickly learned that anything made out of nylon or polyester or a blend of those fabrics immediately went into the “no” pile. That included most of my swimsuits, including the one-piece numbers that I usually wore to the pool.
I did find one bikini, though, that felt nice against my skin. I’d bought it from a woman at a flea market. It was handmade and made out of pure cotton. I remember the woman telling me to never wear it in the pool because it would become see-through immediately if it got wet. But since it felt so good against my skin, I tossed it onto the “maybe” pile.
I kept going, finding a few T-shirts and tops that went onto the “yes” pile, but most of my clothes, sadly, were in the “no” pile, which quickly became a mountain on my bedroom floor.
Some of my longer skirts seemed acceptable at first, but my skin started crawling when the fabric brushed against my knees, so those went straight into the “no” pile as well. Some of my shorter skirts were made out of cotton, though, so those got sorted into the “yes” pile.
Searching around in my closet, I found a big silk scarf that immediately got me excited the moment that I touched it. Whereas the cotton felt acceptable against my skin, the silk felt cool and luxurious, almost like that magic water from the stream.
My aunt had given it to me for Christmas a few years ago, but I’d never worn it as I couldn’t ever find a good way to style it. But since the material felt so good, the scarf graduated straight to the top of my “yes” pile.
By the time I was done, I saw that I didn’t have many options in terms of what to wear to bed, so I went with the longest T-shirt I could find, even though it didn’t really cover my crotch. As for underwear, not a single thing that I owned had been acceptable, so I decided to forego wearing panties for the time being, hoping that my parents wouldn't notice.
After that, I started feeling sleepy, so I threw all the items from the “no” pile onto the floor of my closet and put the “maybe” and “yes” garments on top of my dresser. I climbed into bed, switched off the light, and was fast asleep less than five minutes later.
The next day, I felt curiously excited now that I had discovered the solution to my skin becoming hypersensitive. As long as I didn’t wear any fabrics that would irritate me, I would be fine!
With my dad off to work and my mom out with some ladies from church to help an elderly woman from the congregation move into a nursing home, I had the whole day to myself to enjoy some time at the pool.
After breakfast, I put on my cotton bikini, which felt great against my skin. Of course, I needed something else to wear on top of it, so I went through the “yes” pile until I saw that silk scarf my aunt had given me. With some strategic knot tying, I successfully managed to turn it into a kind of skirt, albeit one with a revealing slit all the way up one side.
The weather was absolutely perfect for getting some color, the sun a golden orb in a cloudless sky. The public pool was packed with others seeking to get some relief from the heat, but luckily, I managed to get my hands on a lounge chair.
For a while, everything was perfect as I lay there and soaked in some rays, but then I found my attention being irresistibly drawn to people’s crotches.
For some reason, I just couldn’t tear my gaze away. It didn’t matter if they were young boys or older men, I kept staring at their crotches, trying to decipher what lay coiled underneath by the shape of their bulges. Some seemed to be misshapen and oddly tumorous while others could’ve been nothing more than a wad of Kleenex stuffed down the front of their shorts.
A few guys, however, had the clear outline of a penis, making me think of a rocket in a silo just waiting to be fired. I even felt my gaze being drawn to the crotches of girls, shocked to discover that some of them were wearing such revealing bottoms that I could see their split V as it rose toward their mound.
Was this how it had always been? Did people always casually walk around with their genitalia on display in bas relief? Or was this some kind of new swimwear fad of the modern era we all now live in?
Either way, knowing that literally every single person at the pool was only a thin bit of fabric away from being naked had me squirming constantly in my lounge chair as I shifted and moved around in a fruitless attempt to find a comfortable position. I tied and re-tied my bikini bottoms several times as the burning sensation returned, but no matter what I did, I just couldn’t get any relief.
Exasperated, I sat upright, and that’s when I looked down and saw a huge wet spot on my crotch. Oh, fudge, not again!
Everyone was going to think I had just peed myself, but I hadn’t, or least it didn’t feel like I had. Was this part of my new medical issue? Either way, I had to do something quick before I completely embarrassed myself.
In a blind panic, I leapt up from my chair and jumped straight into the pool. Instantly, the burning sensation disappeared. The cool water on my skin also gave a jolt to my brain, allowing me to think more clearly.
Wading over to the shallow end of the pool, I spent a good few minutes savoring how refreshing it was to be in the water on such a hot summer’s day, smiling as I watched the kids play and frolic around me without a care in the world.
Eventually, though, it came time to get out. The moment my feet hit the asphalt and I looked down, I saw that the woman’s warning had not been an exaggeration at all. The fabric of my suit had turned completely translucent, my V standing out in sharp relief for all to see.
I dashed over to my chair as fast as my legs could carry me, wrapping my towel around my waist.
Just then, a couple of boys sauntered past, including Chad Thornton, whose eyes lit up when he saw me.
Preparatory Phase
Back when I was a freshman, Chad had been the star quarterback at my high school.
I had heard through the grapevine that he was still playing football at college, but all I remembered was how all the girls used to gossip about how hot he was and all the crazy things they would do to him if they ever got him alone.
Why had Chad given me that look? Was he just being friendly in a general way? Or had he been uniquely pleased to see me?
It was hard to tell, but the unexpected surprise of getting some attention from him soon had me buzzing all over again. I lay there on my chair with the towel around my waist as long as I could stand it, but in the end, the fabric was just too scratchy and irritating my skin, so I swapped it out for my impromptu silk skirt.
Now that I could finally relax, I enjoyed tracking Chad around the pool as he talked and horsed around with his friends. It was clear by the smiles that they were having a good time although I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
As I watched him, I realized that he had gotten even more handsome over the years. With his broad shoulders and thick head of hair, he was truly movie-star level good-looking.
His body was in really great form, too. Everything from his tight, toned abs to the shape of his legs was the epitome of masculine perfection. From across the pool, I couldn’t get a read on what the bulge in his crotch might reveal, but his backside was certainly quite fetching, and I could just imagine what it would feel like if I gave it a squeeze, curious if it was rock-hard or if there was a little give there.
Although it was silly, I started hoping that his swimsuit trunks would suffer an unexpected malfunction and drop to the ground if only for a second so I could get the full picture of his Adonis physique. A guy like Chad would be an ideal subject for a classical statue, and the sculptor, of course, would never blemish such a piece of art by including a distracting trifle like those swim trunks.
It was such an appealing image, and I could just see in my mind’s eye a statue of Chad in a museum somewhere, everyone cooing and awwing over the sculptor’s talent without ever realizing that there was a real man behind the statue. As I gazed up at the marble version of Chad, I thought how funny it would be if the real Chad suddenly came up behind me, amused to see everyone staring at and admiring his duplicate in stone.
As he and I shared a little laugh at all the people unaware that he was right there in the museum, I felt him growing closer to me, that big smile of his warming me all over. And that’s when I realized with a start that my hand had somehow snuck its way down between my legs and underneath my bikini bottoms.
I let out a shriek and ran pell-mell straight into the girl’s locker room, my cheeks singed with fire at the thought that someone might’ve telepathically picked up all those private thoughts I was having about Chad.
I tossed my silk skirt aside and cranked the water in the shower all the way to its coldest setting before getting in. It took a full minute at least before I stopped trembling and that terrible burning which had threatened to consume me was fully doused.
With a sigh of relief, I stepped out of the shower, glad to be free of that terrible weight on my shoulders that my strange new medical issue kept causing.
It was only when one of the ladies in the locker room gave me a strange look that I realized I had gone straight from the frying pan and into the fire.
The burning between my legs was gone, but now my nipples were rock hard, seemingly trying to poke their way straight through the fabric of my bikini top. And, of course, everything down below was once again translucent. At that point, I probably would’ve felt less naked if I had not been wearing any clothes at all.
Cursing my feeble body which had succumbed to such a scandalous condition, I did my best to wrap up with my skirt and then headed straight home. Luckily, after a few blocks, the hot sun had restored me to an acceptable member of society by drying out my top.
Once I was able to relax and enjoy the walk, I let myself drink in the sights, delighting in seeing the bright green of the lawns and the people out for a stroll with their dogs.
By the time I got home, I was feeling absolutely marvelous. My skirt was still a bit damp, so I tossed it in the hamper along with my bikini. No longer constrained by any clothes at all, I danced around my room, relishing the freedom. My only regret was that I couldn’t run out into the back yard and feel the full power of the sun.
Since I was no longer inflamed, I decided it was time to face my issues head on and get some answers. Of course, I could’ve used my phone to do some research on the internet, but I knew my parents had some sort of filtering app limiting what I could access, and anyway, this was a highly private medical matter, so the best place to go to was the library.
Of course, that meant having to put some clothes on, so I tried out a few outfits until I finally settled on a pink cotton sundress. The thought of being constricted by having to wear a bra or underwear made me want to scream, so I decided to take a risk and go to town without anything on underneath.
As I rode across town, I found myself growing excited. Finally, I would learn what was happening to me. No matter how bad my illness was, I knew I could face it if I had all the facts.
My first instinct when I got to the library was to ask one of the librarians for assistance, but then I remembered that this was a very discreet matter, so I did my best to find some relevant books.
Twenty minutes later, I had a stack of tomes under my arm that seemed promising. Although I would've preferred to do my research in the privacy of my own room, I didn’t want to check those books out and have that information stored on my account, so I spread them out on a desk at the library and began reading.
My heart started pounding at some of the passages, which were quite explicit and graphic, discussing different positions for having sex and all kinds of other information that was totally not what I needed.
I finally got to a helpful chapter in a textbook that had been used in public school classes back in the 1970s. I was a bit puzzled about what it was doing in our library, but it was exactly what I had been looking for as it had an introduction to the issues girls face as they become women.
It said that horniness isn’t a disease but a natural condition that arises in young adults and that although it can sometimes cause embarrassing feelings, it isn’t something a person should be ashamed of.
I certainly hadn’t expected to learn that!
As I continued to read, my eyes went wide when the textbook stated that girls get just as horny as boys do. Horniness was apparently a kind of preparatory phase that people go through before they seek out a mate and start a family.
Some of the symptoms of the condition that girls experience are flashes of heat throughout the body, trouble finding a comfortable position when sleeping at night, and occasionally overwhelming urges to touch boys and have them touch you.
Whew! I really needed a drink of water after reading all that.
Bubble Ride
I was very happy to learn that my condition wasn’t permanent and that it usually begins to fade away at some point when a person gets to their mid or late 20s.
The textbook also said that “self-stimulation” was a useful way to get some relief if the urges became too strong to handle, although I didn’t quite understand what that term meant.
Based on the drawing, it looked as if rubbing your stomach in some kind of special way would relax the muscles, making me think of when my mom used to rub my back when I was little and had a fever.
I went through the other books, but nothing else seemed to be precisely relevant to my condition. I saw information about pregnancy and periods, one of which I didn’t have to worry about and the other long familiar to me.
There was a whole chapter about something called STDs but I didn’t quite understand what it was trying to say other than it had something to do with tiny crabs that bite you and make you itch and that antibiotics would clear up the problem.
Satisfied I’d found the answers I’d been looking for, I placed all the books on a cart and exited the library. Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I felt a little dizzy after all that time staring at those strange diagrams and texts about practices and movements I hadn’t even known were possible.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but I couldn’t shake the buzzing feeling inside as I made my way over to the bus stop.
By the time the bus had arrived, the burning condition had returned, perhaps the worst attack I’d had yet. I felt a tiny bit better knowing it had a name - horniness - but that didn’t make the friction of my inner thighs rubbing together as I climbed aboard any less uncomfortable.
I tried to sit still as the bus pulled away, but I had to take a lot of deep breaths as the inferno between my legs was making my whole body tremble.
At one point, I looked over and saw a man staring right at me with a really intense look on his face. He was maybe in his early 30s and quite thin, wearing an oversized coat despite the warm weather.
I felt a little creeped out being stared at so openly like that, but after a while, I began to like it. Somehow, I had become the object of his undivided attention, and that made me feel special.
After a few minutes, the guy got up from where he was sitting and slid in next to me. The touch of his jacket arm against mine made me flinch, but he didn’t seem to mind.
In fact, he turned to me and said, “You’re really pretty,” in such a serious tone that it sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. I’d never been good at smalltalk with strangers, so I didn’t respond, but he was unfazed by my rudeness, and the two of us sat there in companionable silence for a few blocks.
I was so focused on trying to find a more comfortable position that I didn’t even notice him putting his hand on my leg until after it was already there. Although his hand looked rough and kind of grimy, something about its presence on my bare skin had a cooling effect, causing my inner fires to dampen down a little.
I kept my face turned toward the window and didn’t say a word about his hand on my leg.
Soon, his fingers began to get curious, slowly moving their way upward. No one had ever touched me like that before, making me intrigued as to what would happen next.
With my eyes locked on the houses and buildings out the window, I felt my legs jerk open a bit involuntarily as his fingers made their way underneath my dress and then over to the exact spot that was now throbbing with anticipation.
I let out a little gasp as I felt one of his fingertips enter me. It was all so strange and surreal that I wasn’t even quite sure if it was really happening.
His fingers felt surprisingly warm, and I felt my body begin to swell with excitement in a way that I’d never felt before. I opened my legs a bit further to give him better access, marveling at how oddly pleasant it was to feel my insides stretched apart like that.
Many years ago, my uncle came over to our house for New Year’s with a bottle of champagne. I remembered being entranced by all those bubbles as they rose up inside the glass like some kind of magic trick.
That’s a bit how I felt on that bus, as if bubbles were streaming up from somewhere deep in my center, making me feel light-headed and giddy. I don’t know how long all that went on for, but the next thing I knew I was flying high in the sky atop a giant bubble, marveling as I soared over the clouds, my hair blowing in the breeze.
Then I felt a gentle pop, my bubble bursting and sending a rain of shimmering candy mist down to the Earth below. The mist was intoxicatingly sweet and refreshing as it landed on my upturned face, and I began giggling so hard that soon my whole body was shaking.
The bus hit a bump, jolting me back to reality and spooking the guy next to me, who yanked his finger out from between my legs and then rushed over to the exit door, never looking back in my direction even once.
I was a little puzzled by his odd behavior, but the afterglow of that marvelous bubble ride was commanding the majority of my attention. When we got to the next stop, the man ran down the steps and out of sight as if he were being pursued, which made me grin for some reason.
By the time we got to my stop, I was feeling quite euphoric. Not caring what anyone might think, I began skipping down the sidewalk as a happy tune from my childhood played in my head.
Wasn’t the weather simply delightful? And wasn’t it so lovely to be outdoors and enjoying the sun on my face? Yes, yes, it was, and even better, I knew that my condition was only temporary and that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. I was just going through a necessary biological transition, that's all!
When I got home, my dad was in the living room, watching TV.
“Hey punkin’,” he said, turning to look at me.
“Hi, Daddy,” I said, rushing over to him and planting a big kiss on his forehead.
“Wow, you’re in a good mood, I see,” he said, his eyes shining.
“Yep!” I said. “I went to the pool today and worked on my tan.”
“I can tell,” said my dad, nodding. “You’ve got some lovely color on your face.”
I dashed over to the hallway mirror and saw that he was right, which made me feel quite happy. For far too long, I’d been sick of seeing my tired, pasty face in the reflection.
Between getting some sun on my face and the knowledge that I was completely healthy, I felt my optimism for my summer of freedom soar once again in my chest.
Yes, everything was going to be absolutely magnificent, I was sure of it!
Caged Tiger
That evening, I went out to meet Bradley after he got off work.
I was wearing my yellow sundress because I knew it was one of his favorites. He said it brought out the green in my eyes. Also, it was made out of cotton, so it didn’t inflame my skin.
As usual, I waited for him on the bench outside the restaurant that I loved because it has this wall of ivy and climbing flowers behind it that adds a gentle perfume to the air when the nights are warm. As I sat there, I watched customers going in and out, especially the couples, trying to imagine what their lives were like.
One elderly man who held the door open for his wife seemed so chivalrous, and I could picture the two of them sitting around the dining room table, playing with their grandchildren.
Another guy I saw, much younger, perhaps in his early 30s, had his hand wrapped so tightly around his woman’s waist that I could sense him guarding her, telling the whole world that she was his.
I got so lost in making up lovely romantic stories for everyone that I was startled when Bradley sat down next to me on the bench.
“Hiya,” he said, untying his apron and folding it neatly into a square.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t even see you!” I said with a nervous giggle.
“I know,” said Bradley with a little frown. “You didn’t even give me a kiss.”
“Oops!” I said before leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Better?”
“Yes,” said Bradley, giving me that warm smile that I knew and loved.
As per our custom, I let him take me by the hand, and then we made our way down to the lake. The sun was just disappearing behind the horizon, the sky streaked with gorgeous shades of dark purple and red.
“So, how was work?” I asked as we rounded the far end where a little family of ducks were swimming, the mom in the lead with half a dozen children trailing behind her.
“Well, the freezer conked out, so Billy about had a heart attack,” said Bradley, referring to his manager. “He was just about to send us out for bags of ice when the repair guy showed up. Took a while, but he got it up and running again.”
“Whew, that’s good,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Bradley with a little chuckle. “Except for the catfish, pretty much everything we serve now comes frozen. We’d have been in a real pickle if all that seafood had started thawing out.”
“Yeah,” I said with a little smile.
Bradley led me over to our favorite bench which had a commanding view of the lake and the park behind it. One of our favorite things to do was sit there and wait until it got dark enough for the lights to come on, and then the park would look like it was festooned with glittering jewels.
“Sometimes, work is alright, you know?” said Bradley with a little sigh. “But other times, I just don’t know how much more I can take. That fried smell just gets into my pores, you know? Even taking a shower doesn’t help.”
“Bradley!” I said, giving him a playful swat on the arm.
“Yeah, I know,” said Bradley, giving me a rueful smile. “It’s only for a few more months. And then the two of us will be off at college.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Anyway, your shift’s over now,” I said. “And you’re with me, and we’re here in this lovely place. Try and focus on that.”
“Oh, believe me,” said Bradley, giving me an intense look. “Looking forward to our evenings together is what gets me through even when the freezers are going haywire and we’re slammed with customers.”
“Aww,” I said, feeling a lovely warmth suffuse through my chest.
“I love you so much,” said Bradley. “And I can’t wait for us to get married.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said with a happy sigh as I pictured myself in a gorgeous wedding gown, walking down the aisle.
Bradley leaned in and began kissing me at that point. I could smell the sweat and the fried shrimp on him, but I was used to that. His kisses always began very tender and sweet, but then they would progress to where his lips became firm, and the kisses would start to get more passionate.
I don’t know why, but this time, I didn’t stop him when I felt him start to breathe hard. Instead, I took his hand and rested it on my thigh. I could tell he was surprised, and soon his kisses became frenzied as if he were trying to gulp me down or something.
I started moving his hand further up my thigh, expecting him to be thrilled that I was giving him what he wanted, but then he suddenly jerked away from me, his eyes wide with an expression that almost looked like fear.
“What?” I said, confused.
“Nothing,” he said, turning his face away from me.
I really couldn’t understand it. Every time we kissed, he’d tell me how much he loved touching me, but now he was acting as if I’d done something wrong.
“Did I do something?” I said.
“No,” said Bradley, still facing away from me, and I could see his lips trembling ever so slightly.
“Then what is it?” I said, reaching out to take his hand, but he jerked it out of my grasp.
“It’s just...” said Bradley, pausing as if trying to find the right words. “Much more of that, and I think I’ll explode.”
“Okay,” I said with a nervous giggle, not quite sure what was going on.
“I just love you so much,” he said, turning to look at me. “But sometimes, I can feel myself about to lose control when I’m near you.”
“That’s okay,” I said, giving him an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind.”
“No!” said Bradley, shooting to his feet. “It isn’t right. I mean, this isn’t the way. We have to wait until we’re married. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it.”
“Whatever,” I said, shaking my head. “It was just some kissing.”
“No, don’t you see?” said Bradley, sitting down and taking both my hands in his. “There’s just something about being with you that makes me wild. It’s like there’s this tiger inside of me, pacing around its cage, and whenever we make out, I can sense the door of the cage rattling on its hinges.”
“Huh?” I said.
“What I mean is...” said Bradley, pausing to take a deep breath. “Look, it’s just like we learned in church. Love is about cherishing and respecting someone.”
“Right...” I said.
“And respecting and cherishing you means knowing my limits,” said Bradley. “And that means keeping that tiger firmly locked up so he doesn’t get out and ruin everything.”
"Fine," I said.
Even if I couldn't quite understand what he was trying to say, a girl knows when she's being rejected.
Frolicking in the Forest
Nonetheless, I knew Bradley loved me.
“I’m not quite sure why you’re comparing me to a tiger,” I said. “But otherwise, it all sounds quite poetic.”
“No, not you,” said Bradley with a grin. “I’m the tiger in this metaphor.”
“Ah,” I said with a nod. “Good. Because I’d rather be a cute little deer frolicking in the forest.”
“Sure, until I come to eat you up!” said Bradley, making me squeal with laughter as he began growling and tickling me.
We wrestled around there on the bench for a few moments until I saw all the lights come on in the park. I tapped Bradley on the shoulder, and then we sat there in silence and watched the park transform into a magical wonderland.
After that, we talked about the usual things such as how his cousin was doing at boot camp and my mom trying out all these new recipes she’d gotten from the ladies at church and how some were pretty tasty but others were complete duds.
Then it came time for Bradley to walk me home. Everything seemed perfectly normal, but when he let go of my hand on my front stoop, I felt a strange sense of disappointment.
My evenings with Bradley usually relaxed me and left me feeling at peace, yet instead it felt like something was missing, although I had no idea what.
“Hey pumpkin, how was your evening?” said my dad when I walked into the living room.
“Pretty good,” I said, putting on my usual cheerful smile.
“You and Bradley go for a walk around the lake?” said my dad.
“Yes,” I said.
“That’s nice,” said my dad. “Hey, tell him I might’ve found a guy who can get cheap auto parts for his dad's truck. I know his daddy’s been having trouble with his starter motor.”
“All right, I will,” I said, just about to ask to be excused so I could go to bed when inspiration suddenly struck me. “Hey, Daddy?”
“Mm?” said my dad. “What’s up, pumpkin?”
“I was wondering if I could go shopping tomorrow,” I said.
“Shopping?” said my dad, confused.
“Yeah, to the mall, for some clothes,” I said. “You know, to get ready for college.”
“Ah,” said my dad, giving me a wink. “Sure, sweetie. I’ll leave my debit card in the bowl for you tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Daddy! You’re the best,” I said, striding over to him and giving him a quick but very tight hug.
“Gosh,” said my dad. “My little girl is growing up. Seems like just yesterday, you were bouncing up and down on my knee. And now you’re going off to college.”
“Daddy,” I said, feeling my cheeks grow a little warm.
“Hey,” said my dad with a grin. “I’m your father. I’m allowed to get sentimental about my daughter from time to time.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling. “I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, pumpkin,” said my dad. “Sweet dreams, and don’t let the bedbugs bite!”
Shaking my head at how corny my dad could be sometimes, I headed up to my room.
I took off my dress, savoring the feeling of having nothing against my skin but the cool night air. But just as I was about to put on my one cotton nightie, I noticed that there was some sticky wetness on my thighs. Apparently, I’d been leaking again.
After cleaning myself up, I got into bed. A few minutes later, my mom came in. She looked tired and started telling me a long-winded story about how difficult it had been to move Miss Rosie into the nursing home, but then thankfully she gave me a kiss goodnight on my forehead and left.
I switched off the light and lay there in the darkness. At first, I was thinking about Bradley and that silly story of his about a tiger.
But then my thoughts began drifting to Chad. I had a feeling that if it had been me and him kissing on the bench, that he wouldn’t have removed his hand from my leg. In fact, he probably would’ve been delighted to touch me like that.
I rolled over onto my tummy as my fantasy started to get more detailed. It was daytime now, not dusk, and Chad and I were sitting on the park side of the lake next to the jogging trail. Chad was telling me how pretty I looked. He seemed especially enamored with my legs, telling me how slender and soft they were to the touch.
Chad kept rubbing his hand up and down my thigh until I started to get all giddy and dizzy inside. The next thing I knew, we were both on horseback, with me behind him, my arms wrapped around his muscular chest, which was completely bare.
I had to clutch onto him really tightly so I wouldn’t get thrown off, but when I told him to slow down, he just laughed and spurred the horse to gallop even faster.
Soon, we were dashing across a dappled meadow at breakneck speed, me hanging on for dear life as we pounded down the side of a mountain.
I was scared out of my wits, but at the same time, I was thrilled by the speed and the danger. I kept getting jostled this way and that until Chad suddenly reined in the horse, causing me to give out a loud cry as I slammed hard into his backside.
Just then, the door to my bedroom opened, catapulting me back to reality.
“Sweetie, everything okay?” I heard my mom say.
“Yes, Momma,” I said, trying to sound calm even though my heart was beating like a drum in my chest and my skin was slick with perspiration.
“I heard you shouting,” said my mom.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I was having an intense dream. Everything's fine, Momma.”
“Ah,” said my mom after a long pause. “Okay then, well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Momma,” I said, waiting until the door was closed before beginning the search for my missing nightie, which had gotten lost somewhere in the twisted sheets on my bed.
Once I found it, I had to take several deep breaths to calm me down. If my mom had come in and switched on the light, there would’ve been a lot of uncomfortable questions. Once I was feeling more or less normal again, I got dressed and straightened my bed.
I lay down and closed my eyes, and this time, fortunately, I wasn’t plagued by any strange dreams.
Feeling much more refreshed the next morning, I helped myself to a big bowl of fruit. My mother had left a note on the kitchen counter, telling me she was going to visit some congregants at the hospital with the ladies from the church.
I scooped up my dad’s debit card from the bowl by the front door and then went up to my room to get dressed, excited at the prospect of picking out some cute new clothes that wouldn’t irritate my hypersensitive skin.
A Palace of Wonders
For me, the mall was a palace of won.
Every time I stepped through the front door and looked around at all those glittering storefronts, it was like choosing between an infinite world of possibilities. Everything was clean and shiny, and the people were well-dressed and excited to be enjoying the good life.
For a couple of hours, I got lost in the pleasure of browsing through all the fine things for sale. I saw so many outfits of every description, some of them impossibly gorgeous and others so cute that it made me squeal aloud.
If I had unlimited money to spend, I would’ve told the sales assistants to wrap it all up and then send it on ahead to my home, like porters in the jungle carrying an explorer’s equipment.
Alas, of course, I couldn’t afford to buy up an entire store. And even the outfits that were within my budget were made of unfriendly fabrics that caused my newly sensitive skin to start itching.
I tried on possibly a hundred different items, but in the end, the only thing I actually purchased was another silk scarf that had a pattern similar to the one I had at home.
After such an exhausting trek through the wilds of modern civilization, I decided to go take sustenance at the food court and rest my legs for a bit. But just as I got my first whiff of that unique odor of fried Chinese food mixed with cinnamon buns, a strange display in a store window caught my eye.
In front of a tastefully arranged brocade of rich red velvet were a series of slightly misshapen cylindrical items and other strange gadgets that I’d never seen before.
At first, I thought it must be a toy store, but the items on display didn’t look like the bright plastic geegaws designed to resist a child’s clumsy enthusiasm. Instead, most were cream colored or some variation of tan, although one was bright pink with a forked branch.
Puzzled, I stepped inside. The store was quite small, and there were only one or two customers inside. I saw a few costumes for sale at one end, but they didn’t look like any Halloween decorations I’d ever seen.
On another shelf, I saw handcuffs like the kind police use, but these were trimmed with some kind of fake fur. In another section, there were items that almost looked like a whip or other leather objects that seemed more suitable for use on a ranch.
Intensely curious, I wandered around the whole shop, unable to guess the purpose of almost everything in there. Finally, the woman behind the counter must’ve sensed my confusion because she called out to me.
“Looking for anything special today, miss?” she said.
“Forgive my ignorance,” I said, walking up to the counter where there was another display of those cylindrical objects in a glass case. “But what is all this stuff?”
“First time in an adult store, eh?” said the woman, a big smile on her face.
“I suppose,” I said, pointing at that strange forked item. “For instance, what’s that?”
“Ahh, you’ve got a keen eye, honey,” said the woman with a chuckle, taking it out from behind the display. “This right here will get you going on both ends if you know what I mean.”
She handed it to me, and I spent a long moment examining it from every angle. All I could think was that it looked like a tree in winter, devoid of all greenery and seemingly dead on the outside, but still pulsing with life inside. That’s why I let out a little shout of surprise when my finger accidentally pressed a switch to activate it, and it began shaking in my hand.
“Whisper quiet, too,” said the woman with an approving nod.
“But what is it for?” I said, turning it this way and that, mystified as to why anyone would buy a vibrating tree branch looking thing.
“It’s for when you need a little relief from the cares and stresses of this world,” said the woman, giving me a wink.
Something about the way it was buzzing in my hand felt quite pleasant. Then I finally realized it was some kind of electronic massager. I began moving it up and down my forearm, smiling as I felt it working its magic on my muscles.
“Wow, it feels really nice,” I told the woman.
“It sure does, honey,” said the woman with a throaty chuckle. “Wait until you get it home. You’ll be in for a real treat.”
“Hmm,” I said, switching it off and setting it on the counter. “And what’s that one for?”
The woman took out the long tan cylinder I was pointing at and handed it to me.
“This is for when your boyfriend ain’t been giving you the loving you deserve,” said the woman with a big smile.
“Ahh,” I said, picking it up.
Unlike the forked tree branch massager, this one had all kinds of interesting bumps and textures running along its surface. I looked for a button to activate its motor, but there didn’t seem to be one.
“Might want to consider something a little smaller,” said the woman. “That one will stretch you right out, honey.”
“Well, I do like stretching,” I said, a little confused when that comment made her chuckle. “You know, this kind of reminds me of something, but I’m not sure what.”
“Yeah, no doubt,” said the woman, clearly quite amused by our conversation for some reason.
I don’t know why I found it so intriguing, but I found it hard to tear my gaze away from it. It was also very pleasant to hold in my hand, like it was made exactly for that purpose. That’s when I realized it must be some kind of physical therapy device.
One time when I went to visit my dad at his office, his colleague had this misshapen, lumpy object on his desk. When I asked him about it, he let me play with it, explaining that it was called a “stress ball” and that squeezing it was a kind of therapy. Sure enough, it was very pleasant to touch, and it reminded me a lot of the cylinder in the shop even though they weren’t the same shape at all.
“Tell you what, sweetie,” said the woman. “I can see you’re urgently in need of some self care. Buy them both and I’ll give you a 20% discount.”
“Yes, okay,” I said, feeling like I was lost in a dreamlike trance as she took the objects and placed them in a bag. I handed over my dad’s card and then walked out of the shop with my new purchases, eager to take them home and examine them more closely.
Across the corridor, I spotted a gorgeous dress in a shop window that immediately drew me in. The mannequin wearing it had a bored expression on her face, but I could instantly tell by the way the light was reflecting off of it that it was made from pure silk. The dress was simple and unadorned with two spaghetti straps, and I fell in love with it immediately.
Inside, I got the sales girl to show me where the dress from the window was. I was elated when I saw they had it in a full range of sizes. I could barely contain my enthusiasm as I went to the dressing room to try it on.
I took off my clothes and slipped the dress on, marveling at how cool and soft it felt against my bare skin. I turned this way and that in front of the mirror, enjoying the way it moved, like water rippling across the surface of a forest pond. Unlike those other scratchy, horrible fabrics, the way this dress felt when it touched my skin was simply delicious.
“Is the fit okay?” I heard the sales girl call out. “Because I can bring you another size if you want.”
“You tell me,” I said, stepping out of the dressing room, eager to get someone else’s validation of how good it looked.
“Wow,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Your man’s gonna go ga-ga when he sees you in that!”
“Do you think?” I said, doing a little spin, relishing everything about how the dress made me feel.
“Sure, of course,” said the sales girl, nodding excitedly. “I sold one to a lady about a month ago for her honeymoon. She came back and told me it turned her husband into a tiger in bed.”
“A tiger, eh?” I said, remembering Bradley saying something along those lines. “Well, I’m not married. But I still really like this dress.”
“Dress?” said the sales girl, confused for a second. “Ah, yes, well it looks gorgeous on you. In fact, I’m a little jealous.”
“Really?” I said, looking over at her for the first time.
“Sure,” she said, a playful smile on her lips. “If my girlfriend showed up wearing something like that, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of her.”
“Oh, that does sound interesting,” I said, turning back again to watch how the dress moved as I made different movements, including shaking my hips as if I were dancing.
“Really?” said the sales girl, her eyes going wide. “Hey listen, I’m not sure if you’d be interested, but some friends of mine and I are having a little get together at my place this weekend.”
“Like a party?” I said, stopping my twirling around to look back at her.
“Yep, just a casual hang,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Between us girls, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh wow, yes, that sounds like a lot of fun,” I said. “It’d be nice to meet some friendly girls. The ones at my school are kinda mean sometimes.”
“Well, there’s still a lot of prejudice out there,” said the sales girl with a nod. “But you’ll be welcomed with open arms if you decide you want to swing by.”
“Sure!” I said with a happy grin, doing one last little spin in my new dress before I had to change back into my old clothes.
Customer Service
“Cool, let me go get you my contact info,” said the sales girl, rushing over to get her purse from behind the register.
“Hey,” I said when she returned. “Do you think it would be possible for me to wear the dress out of the store? And you just put my old clothes in the bag instead?”
“Um, absolutely,” said the sales girl. “It’s a bold move, but I love it. Come on. Let me ring you up.”
I followed her over to the register and handed over my dad’s card. The sales girl kept smiling at me, her eyes shining with happiness, and seeing how pleased she was made me feel quite warm all over.
None of the girls at school had ever treated me in such a flattering way, making me quite eager to go meet her and her friends the following weekend.
After some more chitchat, I exited the store with my old clothes neatly folded in a bag. At long last, I successfully made it to the food court and treated myself to a vanilla milkshake. It was creamy and sweet, exactly what I needed.
The best part was how good I felt in my new dress with zero discomfort or irritation to my skin. I saw a few people giving me curious stares, but I knew it was just because they were jealous of how good I looked.
Feeling energized after my pit stop at the food court, I then headed to the lower level of the mall. Now that I had a fabulous new dress, I figured it was time to find some shoes to match.
I walked into a place and started browsing around, but most of the selections were either athletic shoes or boring flats much like what I already had at home.
“Looking for something in particular?” said the sales guy, a young man with a thick head of wavy hair, making a beeline for me when he spotted me examining a pair of sandals.
“Yes,” I said. “I want something nice to go with this dress, but I’m not sure what you have available. I think the word I’m looking for is elegant. But not boring, if that makes any sense. Something fun.”
“Hmm,” said the guy, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering on the hemline of my dress for a moment. “Well, let me show you what we have over here.”
I followed him over to another section in the store when I suddenly spotted the perfect pair of shoes sitting on top of a display. They were made of shiny black leather and much different than anything I’d ever worn before as they had a truly impressive heel that was at least two inches long.
But the heel wasn’t thin and needlelike like I’d seen actresses wear in movies. Instead, it was a thick wedge of solid material and very sturdy looking like it was made for some serious walking.
“I want that one,” I said pointing at the shoes.
“Wow, platform heels? Nice,” said the sales guy with a nod. “What size do you wear?”
I told him and then sat down on a nearby bench to take off my shoes. The guy rooted around on the shelf for a moment and then pulled out a box and brought it over. But instead of giving me the shoes, he got down on one knee and carefully slipped the left one onto my foot.
The shoe fit perfectly, and then the sales guy began delicately tightening the strappy part around my upper ankle, his touch on my skin sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
He then moved over to my other foot, and by the time he was done, I was tingling all over. He then chivalrously extended his hand to help me stand up. Walking was a bit awkward at first, but getting those extra two inches of height or so gave me a different perspective, which I really enjoyed.
After parading up and down in front of the mirror for a bit, I got the hang of walking in those amazing shoes, and the reflection in the mirror took my breath away.
The shiny black leather of those strappy heels contrasted excellently with the pure white silk of my new dress, and I scarcely recognized myself in the mirror because of how attractive I looked.
“Oh my god,” I moaned as I continued to examine myself.
“Whew,” said the sales guy with a low whistle.
“Do you like it?” I said, doing a little twirl in front of him.
“I ain't gonna lie. You look super hot,” said the guy, his eyes wide with excitement.
“You think so?” I said, my stomach all aflutter as no one had ever used that word before to describe me. “Wow, I guess I do look really hot.”
“Hot enough to make me want to get in trouble,” said the guy, his gaze locked on me as I walked back and front of the mirror, my dress swishing around my upper thighs.
“I’ve been looking for a new style,” I said, admiring how the shoes made my legs look leaner and longer somehow.
“Well, baby, I think you found it,” said the sales guy, his voice husky.
“Good,” I said, nodding at myself in the mirror. “Then I’ll take them.”
After savoring my reflection for another few moments, I sat down on the bench to take off the shoes, but I must’ve lost my balance because I sat down a little too quickly, causing my dress to fly up in the front and flash my bare crotch to the sales guy.
“Oopsie!” I said with a nervous giggle.
I expected him to get angry, but instead, a huge grin spread across his face. I saw him swallow hard, and then his Adam’s apple began bobbing up and down as he gave me an intense look.
“Could you help me take these off?” I said, using my sweet little girl voice just to make sure he wouldn’t scold me for my indiscretion.
The guy nodded, and that’s when I noticed there was a curious bulge in the front of his pants. I wondered if it had been there all the time or if he was as excited about those shoes as I was. Either way, he certainly seemed eager as he got down on one knee and began unlacing the first strap.
I had already been feeling quite warm, but when he put his hands on my leg, I started to feel almost uncomfortably hot. That’s when I noticed that I was buzzing all over, and a part of me wondered if I was coming down with a fever. But at the same time, the gentleness of his fingers on my skin made me crave more of those touches.
“That feels really nice,” I said in a quiet voice, looking down at his face.
The guy nodded, a strange light in his eyes as he let his hand begin roaming further up my leg until it was far past the point of the shoe strap. I shifted my position on the bench a bit to give him better access, leaning back on my hands as I savored the refreshing feeling of his fingers on my skin.
Pretty soon, his hand had crept all the way up past the hemline of my dress and then beyond. I looked straight into his eyes, admiring how friendly and helpful he was, wondering why all retail personnel couldn’t be that way. Truly, it was commendable how far he was going to give me such great customer service.
It’s not every day you find someone who understands the value of that personal touch. I was just thinking about how I should write an email later to let his manager know what a good job he had done when his fingers brushed against my sensitive spot, causing me to tremble all over.
A moment later, I felt his finger tentatively poking its way inside the entrance of the cave, and that’s when I found myself transported back to the jungle world of my dreams.
This time, I was standing in front of a majestic waterfall, an electric sensation racing across my skin as I watched all that water gushing forth, cascading through the primeval landscape to hit the rocks below, sending up a sweet fine mist that was like an intoxicating perfume.
Just when I was about to plunge into the pool and feel all that lovely water on my skin, a woman’s voice suddenly jolted me out of my reverie. I looked over to see a scowling middle-aged lady saying something to the sales guy.
He jumped up in a hurry, his face beet red as he went to assist her. When I looked down, I saw that some of the mist from the waterfall in my dream had gotten on the inside of my legs, leaving me feeling a bit perplexed.
But then I shrugged it off and began unstrapping the other shoe, carefully placing my gorgeous new heels into their box. I had just put my old shoes back on when the sales guy returned, his forehead dotted with perspiration. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“No problem,” I said, handing him the box with the new shoes. “Can you ring these up for me?”
“Sure, sure,” he said, breathing hard as if he’d just run a marathon or something.
I handed over my dad’s card, and a few minutes later, I walked out of the store, the box tucked into the top of my bag with all my other items. All in all, it had been a really successful shopping trip, and I was quite pleased with my new purchases.
I swung by the ladies room to freshen up, and then I headed out into the bright sunshine, feeling more optimistic than I had in a long time.
Pleasure to Play
The next couple of days after my trip to the mall were wonderful.
I slept well at night without any troubling dreams. My clothes no longer irritated my skin, and I had no more inflammation or outbreaks of my new medical condition. I was so relieved, thinking that my embarrassing horny phase was finally over.
Then the weather turned really hot. My dad was at work, and my mother had gone out with a group of ladies from the church to clean up some old gravesites at the cemetery or something like that.
I was up in my room, scrolling through some videos when I started feeling thirsty, so I went downstairs to get a soda from the fridge. That’s when I discovered we were out. We had plenty of milk and a full array of different kinds of sauces and condiments, but nothing to quench my growing thirst.
There was a convenience store about a mile away from our house, so I decided to go there. I went up to my room and started looking for something to wear, and that’s when I found my brand-new dress stashed away underneath some winter pants.
It was strange how quickly I’d forgotten about it, especially because it felt so smooth and refreshing to the touch when I picked it up.
I put the dress on and then spent several minutes admiring myself in the mirror. It really was the cutest thing I owned, and with the weather turning so warm, it really was the perfect outfit to wear since it was so short and flowy.
Of course, since I was wearing my new dress, it only made sense to put on my new shoes as well, even though I was just making a quick run to the store for a soda.
I felt like a million bucks as I walked down the street, enjoying the way the silky fabric felt as the hem bounced against my upper thighs. The shoes did something to my stride, making it feel like I was taller and leaner, and I really enjoyed glancing down every once in a while to appreciate how good my legs looked.
I was well and truly parched by the time I arrived at the convenience store. The blast of air-conditioning that hit me was such a shock to my system that it made me shiver all over. The air coming from the cooler was even colder, and I was practically shivering as I waited in line to pay for my drink, my nipples so hard and erect that it was almost painful.
The second that the payment went through, I made a beeline for the door, eager to embrace the warm sun on my skin again. So as not to block customers coming in and out of the store, I found a spot over to the side where I could stand and drink my deliciously refreshing beverage. Every time I lifted the bottle to my lips, I squirmed with pleasure as that sweet ambrosia flowed into my mouth and then the back of my throat.
I was so caught up in the reverie of enjoying the soda that I didn’t even notice the guy approach me until he was right next to me. He looked to be in his late 20s, perhaps, and was wearing a button-up shirt that was open in the front, giving me a good look at his sweat-soaked chest. Based on the dusty condition of his pants, I assumed he was involved in some kind of manual labor, which made me curiously tingly all over.
“Hey,” said the guy, staring there and watching me drink like he’d never seen a soda before, which made me want to giggle.
I was going to say something back to him, but then I let out a little squeal when a couple of drops ran down my chin. I had to act fast and wipe them off with the back of my hand before they dripped onto my chest.
“How much?” said the guy, his eyes wide with fascination.
“How much is the soda?” I said, confused.
“Nah,” said the guy with a grin, his eyes traveling up and down my body, which I found quite flattering. “How much to let me look at you a bit?”
“Oh, you can look at me,” I said, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “I don’t mind.”
“Nice,” said the man, nodding and licking his lips. “Let’s go around back.”
He seemed really friendly, so I followed him around to the back of the convenience store. He stopped at a point halfway between the dumpster and a fence near where a large industrial air-conditioning unit was humming away.
It felt kind of exciting to know that there were hundreds of cars zooming down the street just a few dozen feet away, but right where we were standing, we had the place all to ourselves.
“Let me see what you got under that dress,” said the guy, his mouth twitching with excitement.
It was a real thrill to know that someone else admired my new dress as much as I did, so I was happy to oblige him. I lifted up my dress so he could see how well it flowed around the contours of my body, and I threw in a little 360-degree spin so he could properly assess the whole situation.
“Fuck yeah,” said the man, unzipping his pants.
It had been a while since I’d met such a friendly person, especially one ready to play such a fun game with someone they’d just met. I didn’t even know his name, but the fact that he was willing to show me his body after I’d shown him mine told me that he had a truly generous spirit.
I was a little disappointed that he didn’t take off his shirt, though, and his pants and boxer shorts were only lowered to his ankles. But he made up for all of that by taking his penis in his hand and brushing it out so I could get a good look at it.
“Oh yeah, that’s it,” said the man, his mouth twitching harder than ever as he showed me how all the blood from his brain was now rushing down below his waist to engorge his penis.
It didn’t remind me of a baby’s arm at all. In fact, it looked kind of like one of those mushrooms that sometimes pops up after a good rainstorm. Even the tip was a bit red, and I watched with fascination as a misshapen vein on the side of his shaft began to throb as his penis continued to swell.
“Ooh, lift your dress up higher,” said the man as he started fighting with his penis, using his hand to try and choke back some of the blood so it would return to his brain.
Or at least that’s what I assumed he was doing. It was all so strange and mysterious yet curiously fascinating.
I knew that he’d won the battle when he let out a little shout, and then a few milky tears began dripping out of the tip of his penis. The guy ensured a complete victory by continuing to strangle his penis, forcing more tears out of it until there was a shiny puddle on the ground.
Eventually, his penis conceded, going limp in his hands before the man triumphantly stuffed it back into his boxers.
“Whew,” said the guy after he zipped up and buttoned his pants, breathing hard as if he’d just run twenty laps around the gymnasium. “I needed that.”
“Me too! That was a fun game, mister,” I said with a giggle as I let my dress fall back down to its normal position.
The guy then fished out a battered wallet from his back pocket and took out some money. I felt quite confused by that and refused to take it from him, which got him a little angry for some reason.
“Come on, now. You earned it,” said the guy, a pleading look in his eyes as he held out the money.
“It was my pleasure to play with you,” I said, giving him a sweet smile so that he'd know I was his friend.