Chapter 2 of
A Lyrical life.
You're making me high - Toni Braxton
I am so confused, I wish there was someone I could talk to about it all. I daren’t try talking to my parents, I know they would say that I was being lustful and stop me from spending time with Sam. I almost want to ask Jenny about how he makes me feel but she might think that I’m weird or something. I don’t know that I could ask Bekky about anything like that either, she’s pretty vocal about dirty stuff but I don’t know, sometimes I think she’s as confused as I am…
My door opens suddenly and daddy pokes his head round it as I scramble to hide my diary.
“It’s late your light should be off. What are you up to anyway?” daddy isn’t using his cross voice but I know he is serious.
“Just writing down some stuff I need to do.” I know I’m not being completely honest but I’m not lying either. I really don’t want him to know what I was writing, If my parents found out I was keeping a diary then they would want to read it, they’ve done it before.
“Finish it tomorrow. We have church in the morning and I don’t want you embarrassing us by falling asleep again.”
“Ok daddy. I’m now turning the light off.” I say as I click the lamp by my bed off and snuggle down a little more under the covers.
“You won’t put it on again as soon as I’m gone will you?” He demands as though I’m a little child “If you do, you know I’ll have to tell mummy to take your lamp away.”
“I won’t daddy, I’m going to sleep now. See you in the morning.” I sigh at him, I am frustrated by so many things and the last thing I need is him getting annoyed, I try to make it sound as though I am sleepy rather than irritated with him. Daddy’s quiet for a moment and I worry that maybe he hasn’t bought the act, but finally he speaks again, wishing me sweet dreams and I hear him close the door quietly behind me as I lay down and try to look as though I’m going to sleep. I listen for what seems like a forever, trying not to make any sounds that might suggest I’m waiting for him to leave. I am sure he is still standing outside the door to see if I put the light on again when I think he’s gone. I decide not to risk the light but slowly and quietly move my book from under my pillow back to it’s hiding place under my mattress again, Monday I’ll take it back to school and keep it in my locker again.
I lay in the dark, remembering the times I’ve been able to spend with Sam. I know Daddy is right, it is late and I will be tired at church in the morning but I am far too giddy and excited to sleep yet. I can still feel the touch of Sam’s lips on mine, one of my favourite things to remember. My friend, Jenny, has noticed that I’ve been zoned out more when I’ve been thinking about Sam at school, and I’ve had more than one teacher warn me about my slipping grades. Sam and I have been “practicing” kissing for a while now and I have to admit, I think he’s gotten pretty good at it, we’ve even experimented with different kinds of kisses. I always feel breathless and fluttery in my tummy when I think about him, especially when I think about kissing with him.
At first we were both a bit awkward and it had taken a few visits to make it feel more natural. He pretty quickly even started putting his arm round me when we sat down to watch a film in his tree house. He’d said it was so I was closer and make it easier to see the small screen of the DVD player. I think it was really just an excuse so he could back out if I said it was wrong. I really do like it though, I like being that close to him and leaning against him as we start out watching a new film he’s gotten hold of, it doesn’t usually last long though as we always end kissing and forget about the film till the DVD machine turns itself off.
I don’t realise I’m doing it at first but my fingers drift over my chest as I remember the time he’d first put his hand on it, copying the movements he made with his fingers today. The first time he did it, I’d been leaning against him with his arm round me and I twisted a bit to kiss him some and his hand had kinda slid from my shoulder down to my chest. I’m not sure if he did it on purpose or not but I think he was waiting for me to stop him. I didn’t really know what to do. I thought I probably should stop him, they tell us at school not to let people touch there, it felt kind of naughty and exciting, it made me feel tingly and breathless, overheated and at the same time a bit shivery. I don’t understand why its wrong but I knew immediately that I wanted more of his touch.
For quite a few visits he touched me so delicately and gently as though I might break. I had to encourage him a few times by putting his hand on my chest and holding it there before he got the idea that it was ok. As he got more confident, he definitely started putting his hand there on purpose while we were kissing and while we were just sitting there. He seemed to like the way it always sent me into a fluster, making me hold him closer, be more aggressive with our kissing and at the same time melt against him as though my body wants to become part of him.
When I was in little school, they told us that its wrong for men to touch girls but they didn’t really explain why. Mummy has said that if anyone tries to touch my girl parts I should tell her immediately. She says its dirty and its sinful so I shouldn’t even touch my own girl parts but I can’t help wondering if it is so wrong then surely it wouldn’t feel so good would it?
Sam got so scared when he got carried away once. I had to stop him and he probably thought I was going to never let him touch me again, he was so apologetic. I had to explain to him about how sensitive a girl can get. I can’t get enough of his touch, nothing else has ever felt like that, the way it makes me tingle and how I’m aware of how close he is in a way I’m never aware of anyone else.
Leaning against him, smelling his scent, gazing into his eyes, feeling him touch my chest are all part of the excitement of being able to spend time with Sam and I love all that but it’s been frustrating too. I constantly want to spend more time with him, I never get enough time with him.
About a month ago I realised what the next step was. I had worn a skirt and blouse when we went to return some tools that daddy had borrowed from Uncle Ben, Sams dad. As usual Sam and I had ended up in the tree-house and Sam actually slipped his fingers into the gaps between the buttons on my blouse and touched my skin underneath. When I didn’t object he undid a couple of buttons and slid his whole hand in.
It was actually a little but funny how scared we both were that we would get caught but I liked the feeling of his hand on me without my clothes in the way so much, I mean, I wouldn’t let him move his fingers under my bra then, even though I’d wanted him to, hearing daddy and Uncle Ben coming out of the house scared me too much. When we visited the week after, I made sure I was wearing a dress Sam could unbutton at the side and I very daringly loosened my bra by undoing the clasp for him.
I was so scared about letting him touch my chest after all the warnings from school and Mummy. I’d been dithering about it through the entire week knowing that I had to have more of his touch and scared that I was thinking of letting him do something so naughty I couldn’t let anyone else know I was even contemplating it. The only guide I had was my own need and Jennies advice to do what felt right.
The warmth of his hand on my bare skin felt so good, scarily naughty and so right all at the same time. I sat very still as we kissed, my mind racing in all directions at once and completely blank at the same time, just the sensation of his fingers exploring my skin, the scent of his soap and the taste of his mouth filling my own personal world. I couldn’t even breathe until his fingers explored over my nipples.
I read something somewhere about someones touch feeling like electric and I really didn’t understand it till that moment. It was like electric and not like it at all, I think the kind of zap and tingles his touch gave me were the most like electric, not like a shock or pain but warm and zingy and fuzzy as they confused my brain and started another feeling low down in my tummy, like electric butterflies that took my breath away and demanded more of his touch.
I know that I wouldn’t have known if a bomb had gone off near us, I was completely lost in the moment, we could have been the last people on the world and I wouldn’t have cared, time seemed to stand still as he explored my chest with his fingers. His hand seemed to be all over it as he measured it against his hand, felt the weight, explored the different textures of my skin and realising that some places were more sensitive than others, making me catch my breath a little more when he teased my nipples. I suppose the feeling can best be described as squirmy, like when someone tickles you and you can’t help but wriggle to try and get away only I wasn’t trying to get away. Sam noticed that I was moving my legs against eachother and thought I was uncomfortable with what he was doing.
I almost screamed at him not to stop when he went to move away. I kissed him harder and more passionately than I think I’ve ever kissed him and grabbed his hand through my dress to keep it on my chest, I think it surprised him and it took him a few moments to realise that I wasn’t upset with him at all as we breathed in each other’s faces, trying to be close and yet needing oxygen.
Although there was no one to hear us we whispered to eachother as though the sound of our voices might break something and make the rest of the world come crashing down on us. I tried to explain how it was making me feel, the butterflies, the tension, the zingy - electric - fizzy feelings, the satisfaction, my need for more that even I didn’t understand at the time. It was very embarrassing but I also told him just how it made me feel down there.
Mummy uses scriptures to point out how dirty girl parts are and how inherently wicked women are for having them. How we were only really made by God to make babies and serve our men. She thinks that touching them is dirty, she went crazy when I asked her why I couldn’t use tampons that you put inside you, like my friends at school rather than the kind I have to stick to my knickers. God, she really didn’t want to talk about any of them in the first place, just telling me to use them when the curse strikes once a month. I was so scared about that for a long time but I learnt at school its not really a curse, it’s a normal part of growing up. She would totally freak out of she knew that I showed Sam the wet patch on my panties that day and let him touch it. Why are people so weird about it though? Everyone seems to say it’s a bad thing but it feels amazing. Mummy says I’m not supposed to touch myself down there apart from washing it but I can’t help it any more, its not as good as when Sam does, I continue fumbling at my nipple with one hand and let the other start to stroke my self down there, the same way Sam did earlier today, imagining its him again, exploring, touching, rubbing…
Today was the first time I let him put his hand in my panties. I was so nervous that I wouldn’t be able to cover up in time if someone came out the house looking for us. He reminded me of the week before when we’d both been touching each others privates through our clothes. I’d had my dress hiked up so he could touch my panties and I’d put my hand inside the fly of his trousers so I could explore his thing and someone had opened the back door of the house to put the rubbish out, we both nearly died of fright but the squeaky hinge on the door had given us plenty of warning that someone was opening the door.
The feeling of his fingers sliding down my tummy, stopping to explore the edge of my panties then slowly, so painfully slowly sneaking under them and toughing the hair I have down there. It was so many things at once, embarrassing, naughty, satisfying, scary… I can’t think of everything I was feeling. I relive it as I slide my own fingers down there.
Imagining its his fingers again, I let my fingers first play with the hairs I’ve got down there, feeling everything, copying the things he did that felt good. He took his time exploring and touching, making me breathless and squirmier than ever before. The shock I felt when he put his finger between my lips down there and started moving it around was delightful. I nearly jumped through the roof when he bumped against something near the top of the inside, I caught my breath and nearly bit his tongue as we kissed, one hand behind his head and the other grabbing his hand through my panties so that he didn’t move away. I wouldn’t let him move away more than a little as I whispered to him to do it again.
My finger seems to know exactly where that little bump is, I rub it back and forth, imagining its his finger stroking it, sending wild tremors and electric butterflies throughout my whole body, I don’t want to stop, I don’t think I can if I wanted to, faster, harder. I can feel a need building in me and something else building up as my hips buck without me telling them to, forcing my finger deeper inside and away from the bump, I don’t try to control the bucking like I did when I was with Sam, I let a finger go deeper inside and another is drawn to the bump like a magnet. I can’t catch my breath and I’m trying so hard not to make any noise though my body is demanding I voice the pleasure I’m feeling.
In out, in out, my fingers are making a squishy noise as they move as though by themselves now, friction, heat, and a bubble threatening to choke me as it expands through my body. I’m panting like a dog and my lips are dry as I am lost in the feeling.
Every muscle in my body tenses in a rictus of unspeakable pleasure. Then the bubble bursts.
I slump back onto the bed, the feelings slowly ebbing away, leaving me tired and satisfied in a way I’ve not felt before. Relaxed, peaceful, almost what I imagine heaven is like. Is this what they mean when they talk about people being high at school? For a while I don’t have any real thoughts, just relief of something that I didn’t know could be relieved. Something I want Sam to relieve.
