Solotouch.com

I grew up in a more innocent, or perhaps just a more repressed time. My childhood and adolescence in a small city was spent running around the neighborhood with all the other kids, swimming all summer and for me anyway, homemade or hand-me-down clothes. I knew where babies came from but nothing about physical pleasure and certainly nothing about sexual tension, arousal or masturbation. We weren't poor, but with just Dad working we didn't have much money and even though I was an only child most of my clothing was made by Mom, or from someone else and re-fitted by her. I spent a lot of time alone, just me and my Mom; much of it was spent with her re-making clothes for me. Sounds boring and it was, until I was about 14 years old and definitely in the first blush of puberty. That Summer, age 14, my Mom spent a lot of time getting my clothes ready for my first year of high school. She wanted me to look just right. I would stand patiently while Mom would gently fold up the length of a skirt softly touching my thighs as she did so. I'd squirm and squiggle under her touch and she'd softly chuckle saying that I needed to learn how to calm down. Into my blouses she'd add bust dart to accommodate the puffy buds that had been forming for the last few years. To do this she would run her fingers along the sides of my soft outward pointing breasts to trace the location of the darts. She'd gently push on my nipple to make a mark in the material where the dart needed to end. I had no words for what I was feeling then, only that my Mother's alternating soft and firm touches made my breathing heavier, my knees buckle and my nipples tight; sometimes my "girl part's' would feel deliciously liquid. These fittings I now realize were a haze of sexual arousal for me then. Did my mother know? Or were her touches meant to be tender, soothing and innocent? I'll never really know. On one particular day however the balance tipped in a new direction. I'd been outside playing with other kids and was called inside for a fitting. That day was a few days before my period was due and I was super agitated, my free breasts (my Mother did not allow me to wear a bra until I was 16) were rubbing against the material of my tank top and causing my nipples to reach peaks so far unseen, my tight shorts had been bunched up into what we now call a camel toe from hours of running and tree climbing. Mom took one look at me and sent out a long low whistle. "Ok" she said, "take these clothes off and try on that shift over there." Changing was cooling on my skin but as Mom moved the hem of the skirt up my legs liquid pooled in my cotton panties faster than ever before. "Mom this is weird." ""Shhh" she replied, "I have to see if the skirt is too short, hold still." Gently, firmly her fingers worked up the inside of my thighs until they reached the rim of my panties. My lips were engorged with blood as if reaching out for a soft touch. "Mommy, my panties are hurting me." "Keep still honey" she responded, "I need to check the top now". The top would have been too tight without added darts and Mom proceeded to slide her fingers along the sides of my breasts in her usual way as my nipples strained at the material; fingers firmly circling nipples as she made the final indents for the darts. Apparently I'd been holding my breath because as I took a large gulp of air I said "Mommy please, I need a bra" really loudly. She chuckled softly and said that it was good for girls my age to go without bras. Looking back I wonder why she would say that. Did the look of my young buds captivate her as her touches and caresses captivated me? Next she said "Take the dress off honey and go take a nap." On my bed a few minutes later I was red faced, tight nippled and bursting through my tiny cotton panties, but I had no idea why or what to do. I whimpered and cried softly not know how to achieve release or even that that was what I needed. But by then, I believe that Mom knew. She quietly came into my room and closed the curtains, sat down on my bed beside me and took me in her arms. She began caressing my hair and down my back. I began to relax and fell back on the bed. Instinctively I reached down to touch my belly button. While I fingered it, Mom reached out tentatively and began to caress my thighs. She said that if I didn't know how to calm myself perhaps now was the time to learn. Slowly she caressed upwards with firmer strokes than ever before, gently sliding them back down to the backs of my knees. Back and forth, over and over she did this until her thumbs came up over my panties and up over my mound. The shock of fingers there sent me bolt upright into her arms. "Oh, I guess I need to slow down a bit" was all she said as she placed her palms across my breasts and slowly kneaded them. I lay back down and gave myself up to her ministrations on my tensely aroused body. "These feelings are part of growing up honey, they are confusing yes, but I'll help you cope with them." She then worked here fingers back to my belly button...and then expertly further down to remove my panties. "Before I show you how to calm yourself honey, I need to check to make sure that you're ok." And with that she gently spread my outer lips and reached one finger towards a place I had no idea existed but with which I am now quite familiar. When she touched her target I bucked up and immediately she removed her finger. I heard that soft chuckle again, this time she reached for my hand and gently placed the fingers where hers' had recently been. Never taking her hand off mine she moved my finger in exquisite circles until my girl parts were as liquid as jam and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. I moaned and shook fearing the deep spasms that were washing over me, but mom never released her hand from mine until I sprawled back on the bed limbs as loose as the rag doll I had flung on the floor earlier. Mom continued to press her hand on that tiny bud of flesh until it stopped quivering. Then she leaned over and gently took one of my nipples in her mouth, let it slide slowly out and quietly left the room. My mother and I never spoke about this incident or acknowledged in any way that it had ever happened. It remains the most erotic experience of my life.