Eyes Opening Now

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Author’s note: write what you know, right? Early years…

I stared intently into the full length mirror on the back of my closet door. Hmm. Not bad, I thought to myself. We were going to the beach next week and it was time to try on the new black bikini. I lifted and adjusted my breasts in the cups. Comfortable. My boobs had filled out this past year or so, not long after mom caught me crying into my pillow over almost cliché body issues. I’d grown tall, I was skinny but I had no shape. My best friend, Samantha—Sammy—had already filled out. She was shorter than me, a little thicker, but she got her boobs early. Mom gave me “it’s a phase, you’re beautiful how you are” speech, I calmed down, and within weeks noticed I was filling my A cup bra a little better.

Volleyball kept me in shape, too. I turned side-on to the mirror, twisting around to check my ass in the new bikini bottoms. Yep, not bad. The elastic cupped the bottom of my ass cheeks, providing a little lift it seemed. Nice. And they covered me fully, which was comfortable. At the lake last year my friend Jennifer decided to go with the thong bikini bottoms, which was great because she had a beautifully round ass and narrow hips, but when she dived into the lake, they ended up around her knees. She panicked, and between trying to pull them up and flailing in the water, she drank gallons of dirty lake water and heaved for the next hour, undermining the attractive picture she had just painted for all the guys who were hanging around. Sammy and I laughed and then consoled her as the mascara drained down her cheeks in small black lines. Not pretty. But pretty funny. And she laughs about it now.

My phone, buried under my duvet, buzzed in the familiar trill of an incoming text. It was Sammy, she was downstairs. She’d also gone shopping for a new bikini, yellow apparently, and wanted my thoughts.

Sammy was funny; we’d been friends for years, and grew up sharing almost everything about our lives. I was jealous of her in a lot of ways. She had long wavy brunette hair that she could brush back with one hand in a way that even I thought was incredibly sexy. Her quick wit and confidence made her popular with the boys. A few months ago she’d finally gone all the way with her boyfriend, Brandon. We were both 18 and a bunch of our friends were already bragging about being sexually active, and though I was a lot more shy than Sammy, she had still held out on Brandon for quite a while. Even her mom—a character herself—was a little surprised it took so long.

They shared everything, shockingly so. Even the tale of the night at our friend’s party when I drove and Sammy drank some vodka something-or-other with Brandon, and in the back of my car, as I drove around the neighborhood, she apparently jerked him off. I could see Brandon’s face in the rear view mirror, but nothing else. I just heard him. It was weird, then embarrassing. Then really embarrassing. Then I dropped him off near his house and Sammy fell asleep, so I kept driving until she sobered up and I could take her home. We barely mentioned it, largely because I was mortified about it and Sammy probably didn’t remember fully. I didn’t even know where Brandon had, you know, done his thing. I had to search the car, but I can only assume it was on him or Sammy, and I didn’t need any more details.

We hung out at Sammy’s a little while ago. Her mom had a very large glass of wine and told the story of her first time. She described it as messy and uncomfortable; it sounded terrible, but she laughed long and loud as she related the story. After draining that glass she refilled and matter-of-factly asked Sammy if she’d ever had an orgasm.

We both giggled. I mean, we barely knew what the word meant. But her mom pressed and Sammy coyly suggested she had tried playing with herself. I was so embarrassed I jumped up and left. Sammy never told me exactly where the discussion went next, but it was clear she knew more about this stuff than I did.

I know I was slow on the up-take, partly because I was taller than a lot of the boys; while I had a couple of boyfriends, nothing was serious. They were boys and they were friends. I did kiss Nathan, with tongue, last year, which was weird, but weirdly awesome and I thought about it for ages, but he just wanted to play baseball all day every day so it went nowhere.

Now I’d filled out a bit, and the boys seemed to have caught up with me, so I thought I was getting noticed more just by walking around the mall.

Sammy barged in.

“‘Sup, girlfriend,” she greeted me. Her dark hair was pulled in its familiar pony tail and her blue eyes glinted canlı bahis as she flashed her signature bright grin.

She swung a bag onto my bed and fell back on it, propping herself on her elbows as she looked me up and down.

“Not bad, Gem, not bad at all. I mean, it’s a little dowdy, typical Gem, but damn, sister. Look at those pins.”

I lifted my leg, pointing my toe at her. She stood up in front of me and jabbed me in the stomach with her finger. “You been doing sit-ups? Even your crappy hair looks good right now.”

Sammy always teased me about my light brown hair. It never seemed to fit a style, so I generally pulled it up or in a ponytail. Right now it hung loose over my shoulders, framing the black bikini top.

“Okay, you’ve got to see what I bought,” Sammy said, giddily.

Excitedly, she grabbed the bag from the bed and pulled out what seemed to be a tiny sliver of yellow fabric. “My bikini,” she squealed.

She pulled her tight t-shirt over her head and before I could look away, unclipped her lacy blue bra, tossing it casually on the floor. I mean, we’d seen each other naked, kind of, in the locker room, but this was up close and Sammy wasn’t shy at all. She grabbed at her full, incredibly perky, firm breasts and jiggled them, giggling, then took the bikini top and tied it around her back, adjusting herself into the shockingly small cups. The top was as tiny as it seemed, but pulled together her boobs into a surprisingly deep cleavage. She cupped and jiggled her boobs again.

“Thoughts?” she asked.

I was a little stunned. Even by Sammy’s standards this was a little brazen. I nodded and smiled.

“Then check this,” she said.

She kicked off her sandals and unbuttoned her jeans shorts. She kicked her foot up, flicking the shorts on to the floor, landing next to her t-shirt.

“Soccer practice,” she giggled.

Quickly she pulled down her white panties, revealing a freshly shaved mound. Again, stunned, I tried not to stare, but I didn’t know she shaved like that.

Sammy sensed my shock. “Oh honey, yeah, was going to tell you about this…it’s awesome, so freeing.” Her hand pushed in her stomach as she looked down at her own handiwork, lifting her slit, which let her inner lips poke out slightly. But she didn’t stop. She bent over to grab the bikini from the bed, and all I could see was her pussy, and in that moment, all I could think was how different it looked to what I’d seen of mine. Not that I’d studied, just natural observations, but I was immediately aware that my labia lips pushed out further naturally. I kinda thought they were all the same. Clearly not.

Sammy pulled up the yellow bikini bottoms and wiggled her hips side to side as she pulled out the elastic to cover her mound, then arched her back to pull the string into her butt crack. She turned her back to me immediately, sticking out her ass that was barely covered. It was tanned like the rest of her body and looked great, but so…so revealing.

She spun around to face me, putting her hands on her hips, and cocking them to one side. She looked so cute, so young, so hot.

“It is…” I stuttered “an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow bikini.”

Sammy laughed. “Yep, that’s what I was going for.”

“I guess this is why you, ahem, trimmed so thoroughly,” I said.

“Oh, this,” Sammy said and pulled the elastic of her bikini forward, providing another view of her shaved mound. “I love it. Have you done it? You should do it. You should totally do it.”

I shook slightly, uncomfortable with where this was going. “Er, no. I, erm, well, wouldn’t…I don’t know…how…isn’t it itchy?”

“Not really,” Sammy answered matter-of-factly, “if you keep it shaved every few days, keep it moisturized, no problems.”

“But doesn’t that mean that your, er, special place…is, well…is pressing on your pants all the time?”

“You mean my clit?” Sammy blurted out in typically blunt fashion. “Maybe a bit, but that’s part of the fun…if it rubs a bit when I’m on the bus it can feel kinda crazy.”

Wow. My jaw dropped. Sammy had always been ahead of me in the sexual experience curve, particularly now she and Brandon had done the deed, but we’d clearly crossed into new territory.

“How did you learn that,” I asked.

“Mom,” Sammy answered. “She came into the shower a little buzzed while I was in there. She saw me and said I should consider getting rid of that fluff. She dug in the cupboard, handed me a razor and gel, and I did it. It was cool.”

“I mean, look,” Sammy continued, “I know you’re in black, and this thing…” she gestured at my body, my conservative bahis siteleri bikini, “covers a bunch, but right there…RIGHT THERE…”

Sammy pointed at my groin. I looked down, trying to see what she was seeing. She crouched down in front of me, her finger between my legs, and flicked at a few stray pubes that had escaped from my suit.

I was mortified. My mind was racing. I flashed forward to the beach where boys, girls, strangers might see this and point, laughing. I shook the potential nightmare from my mind.

“Come on,” Sammy said in a high-pitched, excitable voice, “do it, let’s get this done…I’ll help.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me into my bathroom, seating us side-by-side on the edge of the tub.

“Okay, this is what we need,” she stated, more authoritative than I’d ever heard her. “My mom gave me all the pointers, it works great. You have the razor, you have the gel, we’re all set,” as she pulled them from the rack on my shower. Sammy leaned over me, her breasts brushing against mine, as she grabbed the shower head and turned it on, letting it run while the water ran warm.

Sammy nodded to the tub and stated, firmly, “Get in.”

“In this?” I asked waving my hands over my bikini.

Sammy laughed. “We might need some access,” she said, nodding towards my bikini bottoms.

I paused. This was happening fast, which was good as it meant I didn’t have the time to over-process in the way I usually would. But it was also exciting. And new. And…what the hell? I had to find out.

I looked down, took a deep breath, and pulled down my bikini bottoms and placed them carefully on the edge of the bath.

“Yeah, needs work,” Sammy snorted derisively as she looked at my thick bush. “Let’s get to work.”

Sammy took the gel can and squirted the orange cream into her hands, rubbing them together to create the foam. I’d only ever used this on my legs and ‘pits before. And that was easy, expected. This? This was different.

Sammy looked me in square in the eyes.

“Okay, sister, this is it,” she stated, a little hint of nervousness emerging in her voice. But she continued: “Spread ’em.”

Slowly, I parted my knees that had been welded together. Sammy slipped off the side of the tub on to her knees in front of me. Without a word she used her elbows to spread my legs wider, fully exposing my pussy region to her.

“Come on, come on, sooner it’s done, sooner we’re finished,” she blurted in a matter-of-fact way while I was still processing what was about to happen.

I shifted my hips forward towards her and leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling. I felt the bubbles of the foam touch my bush, and then Sammy’s hand covering my entire area with it. It was so strange. Only myself and my doctor—when she insisted she take a look—had touched anything down there. Last year at a party this boy called Dayon had asked me to dance, and I did, and it was fun until some slow song came on when he pulled me close to him, despite the fact I was about six inches taller, and in the middle of the song he lifted my skirt and tried to drop his hand inside my panties. I pushed him back and glowered at him. He called me a “frigid bitch,” which was drowned by the noise of the music and he charged through the packed dance floor, leaving me stunned, trying not to be humiliated by the ordeal. I just grabbed my purse and left, fuming all the way, and considering humiliating ways to degrade Dayon. That day will come.

But today, right now, Sammy is between my legs smearing warm, sweet-smelling foam over my hairy bush.

“Right, that part is done. Stay still,” she commanded as she rinsed the remaining foam from her hands. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she brandished the razor towards me.

“I’m not kidding, stay still,” she stated, and I froze in place.

I could feel one hand on my inner thigh, then the razor slowly drag down, and hear the tell-tale click of blade on hair. We were now beyond any stopping point. I fixed my gaze on the ceiling while Sammy pulled, flicked, rinsed, and silently completed her task.

“One last bit,” Sammy said, pulling me back to reality.

She rinsed the razor again, and as I brought my eyes down, I saw her carefully, studiously drag it lightly over my lips.

With a perky exuberance she then pronounced “Ta-da.”

I looked down and all I could see was my labia, my inner lips poking through, and the remnants of the foam. Oh. My. God. It was done. I was shaved. It was…it was…amazing.

“Let’s wash this all off,” said Sammy and she turned on the shower head, rinsing my waist, groin, and legs. It felt bahis şirketleri good. It felt different. The warm water pounding on my, my…I guess this is now my pussy…was arousing.

Sammy grabbed my towel and gently patted around my waist and legs, then very gently between them.

“Lotion,” she chirped, and took the bottle from the top of my toilet. She pumped several streams into her palm and without asking or even acknowledging me, began to massage it where all the hair had previously been. As she rotated her hand, rubbing the warm, creamy lotion into my lips, I couldn’t help but gasp a little. It felt so good.

Sammy looked up at me and I opened my eyes to catch her looking.

“Want me to keep going?” she asked?

The lotion felt soothing, so I nodded and kept my eyes closed.

Then I felt a pressure on my clitoris as fingers spread even my inner lips apart. The weight of the touch changed from firm massage to gentle caress. Eyes closed. Eyes closed.

I needed not to think. I knew if I did I’d process, evaluate, and almost certainly stop what was happening. This wasn’t Dayon, this was…it didn’t matter. This was bliss.

I started to feel the sensations as I had on the few occasions I had done this myself. The first time was so strange, not knowing what would happen, and when my body tensed and twitched I was caught between stopping so I could control the experience and an impossible desire to maintain the feeling and enjoy its conclusion. I had to consult the internet to validate what I’d felt. What did people do before the internet, I wondered? Maybe everyone had a Sammy to turn to back then, where there were no boundaries.

Ah, Sammy…Sammy…

And I remembered where I was and realized what was happening. I could feel my vagina lubricating, mixing my own juices with the lotion, allowing her thumb to slip easily over my clitoris. I felt an insertion, Sammy’s fingers entering my warm, wet vagina, and hooking around, searching for the mythical G-spot.

I’d heard about it, tried to find it myself. To no avail; it was kind of gross just trying. Even the internet couldn’t help on this one.

But Sammy. Suddenly I felt tense as an impulse shot throughout my whole body. The warmth, the anticipation, it was rising.

I kept my eyes closed, but independent of my thoughts my hips pushed up towards the touch that was causing this sensation and I realized those fingers were now pushed as far inside me as they could go. And it was amazing. And it was tense. And I buried the thoughts of what was really happening deep down as I let the swell of tingles, the pulse of passion flow over me.

Eyes closed. Eyes closed.

I wanted it to end, but not end, just…finish. I think I knew what that meant, but I couldn’t write a thesis on it. The pressure on the top, the manipulation of my lips, the warmth, and simply the smooth, focused intensity started to throb through all my body. I felt the warmth rising but wasn’t sure where it was headed. I threw my head back, unclear why, other than the intensity that was flooding throughout my body. It caused me to tense, but not to back away from Sammy’s touch, but to press deeper into it. I heard myself gasp audibly and resisted the urge to back off in embarrassment at what was happening. It felt so good.

My heart pounded and my breath quickened and then my entire body tensed, my toes curled, my hands fixed in a powerful fist, my stomach taut, and my jaw clenched, but the gurgle and groan that emitted from the depths of my soul could not be contained. Suddenly my entire body relaxed, and with it I let out a loud, freeing sigh, an exhalation of exultation. Goosebumps rose across my thighs and down my arms. I relaxed, eyes still closed, head back, pointed at the ceiling.

I felt Sammy remove her fingers slowly, and was suddenly shocked back to reality when I heard a yell of “Gemima!”

I tensed again and opened my eyes to see Sammy frozen too, her smile slowly curling into a frown.

“Gemima, are you okay? What’s going on in there?”

It was the unmistakable bellow of my mother on a mission. She couldn’t be more different from Sammy’s mother. Mine was always picking, always questioning.

The footsteps up the stairs were, however, quite obvious.

Sammy lunged for her outfit and I grabbed my towel. When the door opened Sammy had managed to recline on the bed, magazine in hand. I emerged—shaking—from the bathroom, wrapped in the towel.

“What was that noise? It sounded like…well, it sounded like sex,” she barked.

“Mom,”—I was taking control—”you’re paranoid. Sammy and I were hanging out, listening to music, so that’s what you might have heard.”

She turned and left, pulling the door closed quickly as Sammy stifled a laugh.

“I suppose,” I suggested, “I’m ready for the beach.”

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