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Soul baring time The story linked here is so similar to one of my own experiences that I feel compelled to share. When I was thirteen, my parents were spending a lot of time on their project out of town, and I was sent to live with my aunt for months at a time at her place out in the country. I didn't mind too much, her house was awesome, there was plenty of things to keep me occupied, and even better was the fact that my aunt was much more relaxed than my parents ever were. For example, instead of having to wear my best dresses and having my hair brushed every day, my aunt let me run around in jeans and a simple blouse, and never tried to smarten my appearance up or anything like that. I had a tomboy streak in me anyway and the freedom from being dolled up was amazing. Her barn had a huge extractor fan which I used to sit close to in the height of the summer. The air was deliciously cool there and constantly moving, and despite the noise I'd often nap there, curled up in a ball, my shoes kicked off to the side. One day I decided to climb up some sort of piping system that was next to the fan unit---the pipes were big enough to straddle, and I began scooting myself up the pipe to get higher. It was a little slippery, and the pipe had a strong vibration that was a bit annoying on my hands but I was making good progress all the same. After a few 'scoots' up the pipe I noticed a weird sensation between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it before. I initially ignored it but not only did it not go away, it began to get stronger. I intended to stop and think about it for a second but it suddenly began to rise in a way that scared the hell out of me, and I let go of the pipe and landed on my ass on the dusty ground below. I scrabbled backwards from the pipe in a panic, breathing hard, and as I moved away from the pipe, the intense tingling between my legs began to subside. At the time I believed that I had done something wrong, somehow I had broken or damaged myself and that being close to the pipe was the cause. Therefore I had to get away from the pipe. I got to my feet, my legs weak and wobbly, and ran clumsily away, back to the house. My aunt was in the garden out back so mercifully I didn't have to explain why I was so flustered. This was strange in itself, since I loved and trusted her very much and normally would talk to her about anything at all. I ran up to the bedroom, closed the door behind me and stood against it for a few moments, unsure of what to do. I was still breathing hard, but the tingling sensation between my legs had faded to almost nothing. I remember feeling enormous relief---maybe the damage was not permanent, maybe everything would be okay. Looking down at myself I was in a bit of a state, nothing too serious, not by my aunts relaxed standards anyway. I took a short shower (I also had a quick look at my 'private area' as my mother had called it. It looked the same as always) and changed my dusty clothes and by that time my aunt was making dinner and I almost completely forgot about my encounter with the pipe at the barn. We watched TV while she knitted and the sun went down, then the crickets started up. Then we both went to bed. I dreamt immediately that I was sitting on that pipe. I remember feeling scared as hell as I realized where I was, but my thoughts were drowned out as this feeling began to engulf me like a wave. I was terrified, and began crying out as I honestly thought that I was dying or something, then suddenly I was awake, my aunt was holding my shoulders and calling my name, I was back in my bed, back in the real world, and the pipe was gone, and I was safe again. I burst into tears and my aunt held me for the longest time, rocking me gently while I sobbed. The feeling between my legs was still there, but it was fading much more slowly than before. Incredibly, every time my aunt squeezed me a little, comforting me, the feeling got a bit stronger, and despite it all, despite everything, I liked it. It terrified me, but I liked that feeling. I liked it a lot. Eventually, my aunt pulled back, looking at my tear stained face, and asked me what was wrong. I remember her surprise at my reluctance to tell her---and she patiently waited for me to gather the courage to talk. I honestly thought I had done something wrong, and I had no idea how she would react. I sat there in my nightie, cross legged and my shoulders hunched defensively, and I couldn't meet my aunts eyes as I explained about the pipe, about the feeling and how it had scared me so much...and about the dream, and how I didn't know what to do, and to my complete astonishment, she laughed a little. It wasn't a nasty laugh, not even a loud laugh. Just a small, relieved laugh. I was staring at her in amazement, my mouth a perfect O, and she stroked my hair and smiled. She told me that that the pipe was completely harmless, and that she knew about the vibration all along, and she also knew I had tried to climb it. Before I could speak (I was about to apologize) she went on to tell me that 'the feeling' I had experienced was completely safe as well. In fact, it was a good thing, and not something to be afraid of. I asked rather timidly what she meant, it was a good thing? And she was quiet for about a whole minute while thought about what to say. I sat completely rapt, waiting for her to speak. She gave me the sex talk first. Every kid gets the sex talk from someone, and mine wasn't from my parents but from my aunt---and looking back I couldn't be happier about that. At thirteen it was well overdue; I had snippets of information that had been passed around in school, but no-one had ever sat me down and talked to me about it before. She explained sex as best she could, and although I was a little freaked out about the logistics of it, she made it all seem so...okay. And then she told me that when two people had sex together---'the feeling' as we now called it--- would happen and it was normal and wonderful and the best thing in the world. She then went on to tell me that the feeling could also be experienced alone, even when a person was not having sex. She said that it was safe and natural, and there were lots and lots of different ways to get the feeling to happen, and that it was called masturbating. But because it was a private activity, I should be careful where and when I did it, and that I should generally keep quiet about it too. I sat in silence, trying to absorb the mountain of information that I had just been given, and while I was thinking, my aunt very gently asked me if I had liked the feeling I had on the pipe. I nodded shyly, and she smiled and told me that it was okay, I was a good girl and that she was very proud of me that I had told her the truth about the whole thing. After another few moments of silence she told me that she had the feeling a little bit right now, herself...and did I want to come with her to sit on the pipe? My stomach did a complete roll. I couldn't understand my feelings at all, but they were intense, and very, very real, and I couldn't really speak, I just nodded dumbly, and my aunt took my hand and gently led me off the bed and to the bedroom door. I can remember the next half an hour as though it were recorded in high definition. We padded barefoot down the rickety old stairs to the porch, where my aunt put on her old slippers and I slipped on my sneakers. We then stepped off the porch into the balmy June night, both of us in nighties, and the stars were brilliant and clear, and the crickets were singing and the air smelled good and the breeze made the wheat field whisper as we passed. We heard the fan long before we got anywhere near it. There was one single bulb on the corner of the barn, and it was enough to just barely see the pipe. We stood there for a moment, I was nervous as hell but secretly wanted to get on that pipe as soon as possible. My aunt was a bit hesitant, looking back I think she probably had a huge moral dilemma at this point, but she overcame it quite quickly and knelt down next to me. Gently and calmly she put her hands under my nightie and hooked her fingers through the loop of my panties, and slipped them down my bare legs to my ankles. She then tugged at my laces, and took my feet out of the sneakers. The ground was dusty and warm. She then stood and pulled her own panties down, and stepped out of them and her slippers, and swung her leg over the pipe, straddling it. She turned to me, hands held out, and I went to her and she picked me up with a grunt, placing me on the pipe, with my back to her chest, as if we were riding a horse, and my life changed forever. As she picked me up, I felt her grip under my armpits, I felt the air on my feet, and I felt a small sensation of vertigo in my stomach as she moved me. But what I felt when my bare cooch touched that pipe... Looking back it was obvious that my aunt had spent a great deal of time by the fan and the pipe. Maybe she had been hoping this would happen someday, and maybe in most peoples eyes she was wrong for taking part in such an act, but all I have is love for her. I shrieked, first. My butt and hips clenched tight as this totally overwhelming rush shot though every inch of my body. My aunt leaned into me from behind, whispering something into my ear, but I was gone. Totally gone. My mind was a perfect blank. There was a soul crushing pulsing in my crotch, in my ass, in my legs and stomach, my whole body was buzzing like it was full of electricity, and dimly I was aware of my aunt putting a palm on my forehead, tilting my head gently back, and breathing heavily into my ear. I had been right on the edge of something I could not understand, and that was enough to push me over, completely and totally. I bucked, shuddered, and released a guttural sound. My hips jerked, my cooch mashed against the smooth metal, and my legs clamped around the pipe, my feet and toes clenched. I was completely lost in pulse after pulse after pulse of intense pleasure moving throughout my entire body, emanating from my crotch. Behind me my aunt made a whimpering sound and she began to tremble against me as she had her own orgasm---with much more dignity, I remember. My body was jerking as though I were having a small fit, and after the main rush was over it quickly became so intense I honestly thought I'd go mad. My aunt however was prepared and got me off the pipe quickly---a good job too, since I couldn't move a muscle. She got off the pipe too and we sat in the dust, her cradling me in her arms, both of us breathing heavily and trembling. She asked me if I was okay and I nodded dumbly again, my eyes wide and my face flushed deep red. Her face was the same, but she looked so happy that I could've cried. I was feeling a million confusing feelings all at once and she must've known, since she kissed me and reminded me that everything was okay, it was natural and normal, and the first time is always the strongest. I don't know how long we sat there, but eventually we got up and tottered on very unstable legs back to the house. Without a word between us we both went to her bed and fell into it together, dirty feet and nighties and all, and fell asleep straight away, and I swear to God I have never, ever had such a good sleep as I did that night. The next morning we lay together and talked about the night before, and she answered every question I shot at her. She was patient and understanding and she didn't get tired of me asking her stuff, not even for a moment. At one point she got out of bed and fetched a small hand mirror, sat in bed up against the headboard and sat me between her legs facing away, like we had sat on the pipe. She opened my legs and hitched up my nightie, and held the mirror in such a way that I could see my cooch in the glass. I had never seen it from such an angle before---to be honest, I had never cared before---and she gently touched each part, explaining what it was, what is was called, what it did. She made my whole body tingle with this delicate, fragile delight, and when she brushed oh-so gently across my clit, naming it as she did, I inhaled sharply and my feet pushed into the bed as a dart of pleasure shot through me. She explained that this part of my body was responsible for what happened last night. I remember most of my questions were about 'the feeling' and she went on to explain all about orgasms, and how different ways of masturbating could sometimes result in different 'flavours' of orgasm. For example, the pipe was intense and brutal, but running water was more gentle and made for a different sensation. All the time she was talking she was gently making circles on my cooch, and I found my hips rising to meet her touch. She stopped talking and began to masturbate me in earnest, rubbing my clit firmly, and my back arched and my eyes closed and the feeling was there again, the pulses began, and my legs closed hard around her hand, and I grunted over and over as the pulses clenched my muscles in my crotch and legs and feet. She laughed and remarked that she wished she could orgasm so quickly, and that she was glad that I was masturbating at such a young age, because I had more time to have fun with it than she had. I was in heaven, snuggled up to her, I can honestly say that I still have never been happier in my entire life since. She never asked me to touch her, she never made any sort of suggestion, it was all focused on me, and me alone---and although looking back I would not have been scared by touching her, I know that she was worried sick about the whole situation. She needn't have worried, because I loved her more than anything in the entire world. That day we never got dressed. She took me around the house, showing me different methods of masturbating. In the kitchen she showed me the vibration of the washing machine when it was on full spin. It was nice, but nowhere near the caliber of the pipe. In the den she showed me the soft woolly rug, and how I could bunch it up against myself and hump. I liked that a lot, and we both took turns. In the bathroom she directed the power shower at my crotch and held it there smiling while I bucked and twitched helplessly, sprawled out in the tub. That particular method was my favorite. As I grew older, we did more, and eventually I did touch her back, but that was years after our first time together at the pipe. She passed away a few years ago, and I never told a soul about anything. She gave me the best start to a healthy sexual life anyone could ever wish for, and I'll always be grateful for that. Thanks for reading.