Mia’s Voice

This entry is written on behalf of a girl of legal age, whom shall be known as Mia. She has something to share with us today, and it was her recount during her secondary school days, sec 3 to be exact. That would put her at 15 years old I believe.

When I was 15, sex education was a mandatory part of my curriculum. The boys and girls would be excited about how the teacher describe our biological reproduction parts, but the few lessons were less than sufficient to cover every part of my curiosity.

It was one day when I returned to my empty house, parents having gone to work. There were a few glass bottles lying on the coffee table and my mind was still on the ‘clitoris’ and ‘vagina’ that my science teacher had spoke about. Something in me was begging to find out where exactly my clit was, and I brought one of the bottles to my room after washing it clean of any beer. At that age, I did not know that it was actually dangerous to use a beer bottle not because it is made of glass, but the risk that I might get an yeast infection if I did not clean it thoroughly. Thankfully, nothing happened. If not I wouldn’t even be thinking of writing my experiences down.

Once I stripped my uniform off, I went into the toilet to fill the bottle up with warm water, tying my hair up into a ponytail so it wouldn’t hinder my sight. I did not know why I topped it up with water, it just seemed more comfortable to be wet without wasting water if I kept the shower going. Sitting in the bathtub, I opened my legs and tried to peer at my pussy. It wasn’t easy at all. I could say most of the time I did not know where my fingers were touching, but once I felt a tingle going up my spine, I gave up trying to catch a glimpse and decided to ‘feel’ it instead.

My fingertips could not stop once my body felt where the satisfying sensation came from. The fleshy parts that joined at the top corner of my pussy, was the area. Sliding my nails upwards where the ends touched, the pleasure intensified as I kept rubbing on it. That was when I realised it might be the clit that my teacher spoke about. To think back, I probably am the last few girls who started masturbating at my age. Luckily, this was something no one has to know about.

I kept going as the awesome feeling built up, bringing me to another world where I stopped right before my mind went into ‘caution’ mode. It was super sensitive down there and as much as my body wanted me to continue, I did not know what was happening, or rather, what orgasm was.

The next minute was spent calming myself down and the bottle was brought into the tub. I opened my legs as wide as I could and pulled the mouth-piece in, feeling how it widened the part of my body I had never put anything into before. Slowly, the pain grew and I had to touch my clit to ease myself. Everything seemed easier after I resumed my clit-play and the bottle continued to enter my body.

Right there, was when I felt an obstruction. There was a sharp pain when I tried to push it deeper, but the warm water that was pouring out of the bottle was relaxing my vagina. It was then I felt alright enough (despite the pain) to continue and the bottle just slipped into me once the barrier was broken. The water turned red and went down the drain to my horror, but I knew what was happening. ‘Hymen’ was one of the things my teacher taught, and it was a mark of virginity, or some others might see it as ‘innocence’ depending on how important a guy values the existence of the hymen.

What done was done. The bottle neck opened my pussy to a new width as we know how bottles were designed. My mind was flooded with this unbelievable, secured, pleased, satisfying sensation that I did not know how to describe. Holding the bottle firmly in my hand (it was wet), I plunged it in and out to let the tip brush along the insides. My other hand was just rubbing on my clit non-stop, as though I had lost control of my body.

The double input of pleasure drove me to make sexy noises like the joy of relieving a full bladder, just that it kept coming on and on. My hands weren’t listening to me anymore and the near-death experience came again. This time, I told myself that I could die with no regrets knowing how pleasure felt like, and kept going despite my strength disappearing from the vigorous thrusts.

In a split second, a huge wave of energy shot through my body and closed my legs together. The fingers on my clit stopped as it got too sensitive and I felt a stream of warm liquid flow between my slit, lasting about twenty seconds. No, it wasn’t what you guys know as ‘squirting’, I couldn’t do it even at my current age. I had a taste of my first orgasm and it was so tiring. As I pulled the bottle out of me, a few sticky strands were seen from my bottom connected to the bottle opening.

Afterwhich I washed myself and kept the bottle under my bed, too tired to think about what happened. When I woke up from my nap two hours later, my hands went into my shorts to check if it was dry, and my fingers just went to the clit to energise me. I did not have any self-control then and gave myself another orgasm from the clit-rub, knowing what it felt when an orgasm came.

After that day, I spent most of my time at home masturbating with the bottle, before upgrading to the plastic handle of a plunger (used for unchoking toilets). I remembered it was one of the best ‘toy’ as I could stick it to the wall and basically, fuck myself. Following that, the two boyfriends I had never stopped complimenting about how good I could ride them, and they just couldn’t get enough of fucking me. With hearts broken when I separated from them, I learnt that sex wasn’t everything. But my plunger, though now replaced by a dildo, would never hurt me and could please me no matter how bad I was feeling.

When I saw J’s blog, it definitely stirred a desire in me to get a cock inside me again, one that is warm and filled with life. As much as I held myself back, the email that I sent him about a ‘catch-up’ changed how I perceived sex and love. The moment two persons were having sex (not explicitly with J), they would experience love. And once they got their desires fulfilled, the ‘love’ would return to friendship, or whatever they were related by. Love is always made, but the intentions will be different for different people. Some would use it to enforce their views about being single (having no fixed partners) and some would do it to strengthen the bond between two people.

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