DoubleClickHeaven.com: The Female Sexual Experience: Shared Sexual Histories and Experiences Vol. 3

This page has been created to allow women the opportunity to share their sexual experiences with others. They can disclose how they became aware of their sexuality, what they have learned about their sexuality, how they learned to enjoy it, and even hurdles they have had to conquer. Women can present their sexual histories if they so desire. This will allow women to learn from each other's experiences.

You can submit your own sexual experiences here

Anonymous - Age 25

I am 25 years old and have suffered from schizophrenia for several years. I find the mental illness has affected my sexuality in more ways than one. Like many with schizophrenia I find it very hard to desire or feel emotion towards those around me. Truth be told, I feel little towards those I share my life with. Coworkers. Friends. Family. Anyone. True emotion is simply NOT much a part of my nature. It is a very difficult and hard thing for me. And sad as well.

I have never had a romantic or sexual relationship because of this lack of feeling towards others. A part of me wants sex, but I feel so removed from human intimacy that I shy away from contact with the outside world. I would rather be alone in my "dream world" than out in the real one. I spend most of my time alone in my room. Human contact is simply too mentally unpleasant for me.

As far as sexuality goes, it is very hard for me to tell the difference between what is me and what is the illness at work. I can "imagine anything" because schizophrenia can bend and twist the human imagination into the worst things imaginable. I cannot even go to places that have children because the sight of them brings to mind, for me, the horrors of pedophilia. I become sick and horrified. To the point of making myself ill. This even happens all through out the day for no apparent reason or when ever imagine anything sexual.

From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep I go through a sexual hell few will ever know or understand.

People take for granted their own minds. Their ability to feel love for those around them. To smile at another person and actually mean it. To have a sexual thought and know it is THEM and not some horrible disease.

Some of us are not so fortunate.

Raped by a Dream

First off I would like to say that what I'm about to write is NOT something I made up. It is quite quite true. All of it.   Even though I feel crazy writing it.

When I was around 14 years old I began to have these awful nightmares of an invisible being that would visit me in my sleep. It would crouch on my chest and crush my body down. As I got older (16 or so) the attacks or "experiences" became more sexual in nature. I'm not saying I always disliked them. But sometimes they can be scary. There are times when I've awakened to find claw marks on my chest or back. Now, I could imagine perhaps scratching my chest in my sleep. But the back thing has left me somewhat puzzled. My vaginal area, back or breast has also been sore on occasion after a "visit."

In real life there have been odd "thumping" sounds inside the house for no apparent reason. And on one occasion the electricity in the living room went out for an entire week. My mother shut off the electrical line to the living room...At which point the lights started the click on by themselves, even though there was no power in the line! I've also awakened to see my bedroom door closing. On one occasion my blankets had been pulled off of me as well.

I remember asking my "little dream lover" what it was. It then proceeded to tell me that it was a MAHR. Curious, I decided to look the word mahr up on line to see if there actually was such a being. To my shock and surprise, there was. It seems the mahr is actually a night spirit that goes to people in their sleep.

And sits on their chests.

I'd like to see a skeptic try and explain THAT one!

It would be intriguing to know if other girls have had these types of sexual "experiences" and what they might mean.

Angela

I simply wanted to write to tell you how grateful I am to you for making this site. Before I came on here, I felt very badly about myself sexually. It has been such a relief to know that other women have had my experiences and that I am not alone in my "fantasies."

I hope you understand what a wonderful service you are providing to women everywhere. And I am looking forward to all future additions to the site. It's a shame that society has shoved the idea down women's throats they are "not sexual like men." And that female sexuality solely entails "giving ones self" to a man. I believe women sexually settle for less than they deserve because they have been told for so long that they cannot and do not enjoy sex the way a man would.

Speaking of sexually settling, just look at the sexual side effects of birth control pills. Which can cause lack of lubrication, yeast infections, inability to orgasm and lack of libido. Now could you imagine a man, ANY MAN, taking a contraceptive with side effects like that? NO. Of course not. HE wouldn't touch pills like that with a ten foot pole. But women are suppose to. Because they're "women."

No women should SETTLE with anything less than their sexuality at its fullest. My advice to all women is to not allow anything or anybody to get in the way of doing what it is they enjoy. Not their family. Not their boyfriends, husbands or doctors. Women have catered to everyone else's needs and advice for far too long.

OUR TIME IS NOW.

Kim

I just read the article on female ejaculation. I found it very interesting. I've wondered about this subject for a long time. I am one of the small percentages of unknown women who can ejaculate about 16 oz. The article makes it seem like is the most. But there are times when I would swear it is more than that. I don't know if this is of any interest to anyone, but I definitely have a big interest in this and would love to know more and be able to discuss this. Sometimes I think is this normal? Do other women do this?

Fat Chick - Age 25

My name is Alice. I'm 5'4 and 150 pounds. Nobody's idea of skinny. But I use to be around 220 pounds. I don't believe most people could ever understand, unless they've been obese themselves, what it does to a persons sex and sexuality.

I remember back in high school, feeling like a pig, watching all the guys chase after the thin girls. Meanwhile I couldn't have gotten hit on by guys if I was naked and covered in hundred dollar bills. If I was asked out it was usually, okay almost always, followed by a large round of laughter as the guy enjoyed his "little joke" with his cronies. During senior year I started to have deep feelings for a guy for the first time...Only to discover he was only being nice to me to win a bet. I was crushed.

I didn't feel like a real girl sexually. I felt like a pale imitation of one. Just something there for everybody's amusement. I feared that, if a guy ever did have sex with me I'd be so repulsive to him he wouldn't even be able to keep it up. Or that he do the whole thing half heartedly because he wasn't really aroused. I hated myself. I hated men. And I hated the thin girls who could have them when I couldn't. We live in a world that worships the thin woman. A world where people don't even want to look you in the eyes if your fat. In the eyes of the thin nation, you've committed the ultimate sin. The sin of being fat.

I wish I could say I feel better about myself since losing the weight. But, sadly, I do not. Changing the body doesn't really change the mind. You can lose all the weight you want. But you won't lose the memory of being fat. After everything that's happened, I've developed an intense fear of men. I'm scared of them. They were so cold and so fast to reject me before. I'm afraid of it again.. The last time I was in the video store and saw an attractive man I walked to the opposite side of the room just to avoid him.

You can take the fat out of the fat girl. But you can't take the girl out of the "fat girl."

Debbie - Age 45

I should start out by saying I've always had what you might call a "queen sized vagina." It was never really a problem for me. At least, not when it came to sexual pleasure. It did, however, pose a problem for the men I slept with. One partner even complaining that "having sex with me was like using a trash bag." Other men were not so obvious. But it was still obvious my size posed a problem for them. For years I hated myself for the way my body was built.

Than I met Trisha.

I had just moved back to America from my home in London. It was certainly a period of upheaval in my life. Trisha worked at my new office in L.A. When I first met her I felt a spark. And I was certain she felt the same way. Though I had always considered myself a heterosexual woman, when I was around Trisha I wasn't so sure anymore.

We went out to dinner together several times before we ever kissed. It was a very sweet, chaste sort of kiss. And she didn't pressure me to have sex the way a man might. Our first time was very special. I had never been with anyone who knew how to touch me the way I needed to be touched. Who cared so much about what I wanted. And who cuddled and whispered to me afterwards the way she did.

I have been with around three women since Trisha and I broke up.   And none of them has cared one smidgen about how large my vagina is. Or even if I've gained a few pounds. It just doesn't seem to be as important to lesbians as it is to men. And I don't feel the same amount of pressure to be perfect around other females as I did with men. I feel more sexually free and content with my body than I ever have before. Much more free to be myself.

Ticked Off Virgin

I would first like to state that I am in my twenties and still a virgin. It seems to be that there is a lot of discussion about the hardships of being a sexually active woman and the ways in which society cruelly labels such women. (Slut, tramp, etc.) But I would also like to share a perspective from the "opposite" side of the spectrum. When you're a virgin, people also assume certain things about you as well. If anything, I've noticed people play this game of "Is she REALLY a virgin?" Once they find out about my lack of sexual history. I have to very careful of what I say or do lest some one whisper behind my back that I'm really a slut lying about being a virgin. (I find other women can be very cruel when it comes to doing this.)

I would like to point out a lot of the myths and some blatant LIES about being a virgin. Partly so that other people will understand that virgins are not sexless hermits who live in caves and pound their clothes on a rock.   But also because I'm sick of having to watch everything I say or do for fear of being accused of not being a virgin.

MYTHS AND LIES ABOUT VIRGINS

Virgins do not have strong sex drives. Otherwise they wouldn't be virgins.

Virgins do not act overtly sexual towards men. It's just not a virgin like way to be. (Virgins should be shy around the opposite sex.)

Virgins know very little about sex. If they talk about sex a lot or seem to "know" a lot of facts about sex, then they're most likely lying about the whole virgin thing. (Please! As if a virgin can't read a book and the only way to know about sex is to put a penis in your vagina.)

All virgins are looking to give their virginity to their true love, i.e. husband. (Virginity means different things to everybody. One girl might want to give her virginity to her true love. Another might want to enjoy a brief fling with her best friend. (Male or female.)

If a girl hasn't had sex by a certain age, chances are it's because she's ugly. (Believe it or not, I've actually had a guy tell me this before.)

If a girl hasn't had sex with a guy by a certain age, chances are it's because she's actually a lesbian. (I've had this accusation flung my way. It seems that if you are not sleeping with one gender, people start to assume you're doing the other one.)

Virgins DRESS like virgins. Which, in most people's books, seems to include a head to toe Quaker get up complete with built in chastity belt.

All virgins are deeply religious. Not an insulting presumption, but you have to understand a girl could be a virgin for any number of reasons. Not solely religious ones.

Virgins dislike talking about or hearing about sex. The whole thing makes them jittery. (If you believe this, I also have some prime real estate in the Everglades you might like to buy.)

Virgins have a highly romantic view of sex. I think this myth goes a long with the idea that virgins are these "pure" individuals waiting to be swept off their feet and made love to on a bed of rose pedals..With a wedding ring on our finger..Behind a white picket fence.

The truth is that virgins CAN be lusty, sexually informed, flirty, and enjoys the attentions of a man just like any other woman.

And cut out the "Is she Really a virgin game?" game. You're getting on US virgins nerves.

Anonymous

Sexuality has always been a difficult thing for me. I became aware of an attraction for girls when I was in junior high. At first I truly believed I was a lesbian. Then I realized that I still liked guys too. In high school I found that I could turn my sexuality on and off like a switch. One day I could walk in and be attracted to girls. The next day I could walk in and like guys. It was something I was very much in control of.

Though it may sound a little crazy to you, I was also not very attracted to either gender at all. Sure, I can "imagine" being with somebody, but when it actually comes to wanting to do the deed in real life, that's a whole other story. The idea of being in a relationship with a guy or girl does not really do a whole lot for me. (I'm in my 20s) The thought of being somebody's girlfriend seems kind of "wrong" and annoying for me. I'm not very girly. And the female role more or less gets on my nerves.

I'm attracted to guys on more of a physical (in fantasy alone, remember) level. I don't really like their personalities or them as people. While other girls look at them and find them so adorable, I can't help thinking how shallow and dumb they can be. And I DO NOT like the way they treat girls. Who wants to be the vagina that "helped a guy get laid?" It's SUCH a turn off.

I like girls on more of an emotional level. But I can't really say I'd ever want to date one. I just don't think it's really for me.

You could say that I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I like guys on a physical level. I just don't care for them as people. And I like girls more as people. But I wouldn't really want to go steady with one.

Sometimes I'd just love to be a guy.

I hate all this girl shit.

Over The Hill But Not Buried Under It

I would have to say that my favorite sexual thing is fellatio. If I had a choice, I'd rather have a penis in my mouth than in my vagina. I guess it all started when I was a little girl and found my grandfather's box of porn in the back of his van. I remember seeing this video case of a blond woman on her knees in front of a man, his cock in her mouth. I thought it was so attractive for some reason. I than felt these "tingles" in the pit of my stomach. It was one of the first truly sexual feelings I think I ever had.

Ever since that day oral sex on a guy has always been a turn on for me. There have been times when I wanted that more than actual sex. It's hard for me to imagine NOT wanting to do that. Indeed, when I first see a guy, my first desire is to yank down his pants and go down on him. It's such a strong desire. Kind of like the desire for food. I've never heard of other girls experiencing what I do with this. It seems to me so many women just view oral as a chore.

My suggestion for girls who want to enjoy fellatio more is to understand that it doesn't have to be "just for the guy." It can be for you too. A good starting point would be to get on your knees before a guy and wrap your left hand around his shaft. (This keeps him from going too far down your throat.) Then you start to lick and suck on his shaft at your own pace. After a while you should reach down with your right hand and rub your clitoris. You could also have in a vibrator as well. Whatever you enjoy. (Though hand work is easier for starters.) As you become more excited, let your moans and words further arouse yourself and your partner. (He'll really enjoy the fuss your making over orally doing him. He'll like the show too.)

You should learn to associate oral sex with YOUR OWN PLEASURE. Not just that of your man.

A note of caution though: Never orgasm with a guy's penis in your mouth. An orgasm can cause your mouth to clench shut....OUCH!

Anonymous

I have found that mental pain and anguish are very exciting to me.

It's kind of my little secret.

It all started, or at least some of it, back in high school. I was gawky and ugly to boys. They use to pick on me and stuff. But I loved being picked on. By both guys and girls. I would often dress and act in ways that I thought would encourage teasing. I knew that if someone said something nasty to me I'd feel the wonderful pain of it for a long time. I found that the mental stimulation was better than nothing at all. And I would feel very bored if people left me alone. I would sit there, waiting to be verbally attacked, hoping it would happen soon.

There is the pain, of course. But also a rush as well. I never feel more alive than when I am in pain. Bad. I know. But I am trying to do better.

I also enjoy physical pain, though I have stopped mutilating myself.

Love Behind Bars

I have found that being learning disabled has kept me from having sex. Guys can be pretty turned off by disability.

They just shy away from me and stuff. I also don't have the freedom other girls my age have.

I can't drive.

I have a fifth grade math ability. So I have to ask for my own money that I get from work. I can't buy any "toys" for myself, really, without my mother knowing. (She doesn't like that sort of thing.)

I don't have ID so I can't get "adult" things.

I have no privacy. I can't masturbate because my mom loves to walk into my room whenever she wants. She's even threatened to have the door removed so I can no longer close it.

I can't drive to an adult store to buy myself anything, I can't send away for anything (My mom gets all the mail). I can't look at adult things on the internet (My mom would find out) I can't date. (To show her displeasure my mom even threatened to have my tubes tied without my consent and I know she would make my life hell if I dated.) I cannot discuss things over the internet because my mom looks at all emails. She would know if I was talking to somebody. And I cannot call anybody because she goes over phone bills.

Even though I'm in my twenties, I'm pretty tied down.

There are organizations that help individuals with disabilities in situations where their basic human rights are being denied:

National Disability Rights Network (NDRN)

Women with Disabilities - Links

RVM

Mmmmm, wow, I just found this site, with all the women talking about someone going down on them. This is heaven for me when someone does that. I have been sexually active since I was 7. I had a teenage cousin who liked to sit me on his lap and play with me. I liked it, had no idea it could be deemed wrong. I have had two females and a few men at different times in my life. The first time a guy did that to me, I was 15, we were at an abandoned train stop station. He pushed me up against a wall in the building and knelt down in front of me, took my pants down and began to lick me. Ooohhh, I moaned with delight as I came. It really didn't take too long. The first time a female did that to me, we were 12, and were doing 69 on her bed at a sleep over. She writhed with pleasure as I helped her to achieve orgasm. I am now 52, a widow, and have a very good male lover at the present time, who's face fits well between my legs. His tongue stops and goes on me till I moan in ecstasy.

Cock Eyed

I was in the bookstore a while back when I came across this mammoth book about sex. As I was flipping through it, I came across this photo of a handsome man laying on his back. A thick, little dark penis rose up from between his legs. He wasn't a large guy, maybe only four inches if that. But I thought his penis was so cute and adorable. And I couldn't help imagining it inside of me. Climbing on top of him and riding his stubby member.

I LOVE SMALL DICKS. Maybe because its because I've never had one inside of me and think a smaller one would be less painful. But I also believe that I just find them more visually appealing than huge dongs. Like I said before, small dicks are just so more adorable to me. I would think having oral on one would be so much easier.

I hope that my first lover has a small, or at least somewhat average penis. I have no desire for a big male. The thought of being with a well endowed guy is NOT a sexual fantasy of mine. I just want any guy reading this to know that not all girls are aroused by big dicks. And some of us would just LOVE to get our hands on a beautiful, thick little stub of paradise. You just have to know where to look.

For other women who share my love for "normal" sized males, I would suggest getting Surrender Cinema's film, Femalien. It's not hardcore porn and also appeals to female viewers as well as men. The men and their parts are well worth the price of admission.

Erin

What a revelation your website has been! I found it "surfing" the net for information about female sexual response and must say that it is the most honest and helpful sources of information that I have seen anywhere, either online or in print. Believe me I have read much on the subject and can only say that the majority of it rarely touches on the type of experience I had as a young adolescent and my reaction to it. I especially recommend the page, "The Mutidemsionality of Sexual Abuse," for other women (or indeed men) who may be confused about how they reacted to early experiences of being sexualized. Though I am not sure I agree with every aspect of the article, I applaud its bold departure from the orthodoxy of "victimology" literature dealing with childhood/adolescent sexual abuse, especially as it relates to women.

Let me explain, why I am here and why I am grateful for the information I've learned from others who have contributed. My experience happened right about the time I was between twelve and thirteen years old and from time to time it resurfaces more directly in my conscious mind.

I grew up in a sprawling suburban community of a large Southern city in the 1960s. My father was a minister in a mainline church which, though conservative, was not really fundamentalist, backward, or intolerant. I had a younger sister growing up and knew boys only at a distance, and yet from early on recall being fascinated by them in a way I now recognize as sexual interest.   I knew virtually nothing about sex aside from the broad outlines of its mechanics that I'd picked up from giggling girlfriends. I hadn't even had the kinds of "doctor-playing" experiences growing up that seem to be so universal from what I read here.

As I grew older, I became increasingly aware of my own body and its natural changes, but beyond the necessary conversations with my mother about hygiene when I experienced my first period at age 11, and a bra fitting exercise at the local department store, how the female body was supposed to respond to its sexual nature was something about which I was completely ignorant. By the time I was about twelve and a half I was fairly well developed, even more so than many of my friends, though just as clueless about my body as they were. Even "health" classes in those days mainly dealt with basic anatomy and its function and never touched on "sexuality" as anything other than a necessary biological process, like the actions of the endocrine system, or bowel movements.   Perhaps if I had bothered to ask, I might have been told (even from my skittish mother), but I really didn't know what, or how to ask, and so relied as we all did on the twittering whispers between other 12 and 13 year old girls at Friday night sleep overs Hence, like most of my peers in 1969, I was little prepared for launching into adult life at the height of the "sexual revolution."

Close to where we lived was a large community center with three pools and a dozen or more tennis courts. In the summers, we all lived at the pool, but until they opened on Memorial Day, my girlfriend Sarah and I basically hung out down at the tennis courts after school where there was a lot of sidewalk space for skating, meeting friends, or just sitting in the viewing stands and acting goofy. Sarah was already thirteen, and much more forward. She even bragged about the fact that she had actually made-out with a boy at church camp that previous summer, and was always commenting on who were the cutest guys. At the courts she would openly flirt with the older boys, most of whom ignored both her and me, who always hung in shadows of my more adventurous friend.

Anyway, sometime in late April we noticed these two boys who usually showed up at the courts everyday about 4:00 o'clock and played for a couple of hours. Sarah was interested in the taller one who had long straight dark hair cut in that Beatle-mania fashion of the era. I on the other hand was drawn to the shorter but more athletically built one who had longish brown wavy hair just covering his ears and collar. This was the time when boys were just beginning to wear their hair longer and his was not so shaggy and unkempt as most. Plus he had deep set blue eyes, and very prominent full lips, which was what I thought of as "dreamy." I developed and instant crush on him.

Usually, we'd watch them at a distance, but as it grew later we'd gravitate near their court and watch through the fence. After a couple of days, Sarah started making taunting comments just loud enough for them to hear but which they mostly ignored in the dismissive way older boys treat girls that age. As she grew bolder in her teasing, she eventually started to get the older boy's attention, who told us was a freshman at the state university. His younger friend, the center of my affection, we learned was still in his last year of high school nearby. Frankly, I found the older boy obnoxious because he would openly use curse words, or make rude and vulgar comments to us. Once when Sarah wanted to embarrass me she yelled out, "My friend thinks that curly-headed boy is real cute." Naturally, I was mortified. The older boy laughed and said loud enough for us to hear, "Well, I got some curly hair too, but I ain' t gonna show it to you." Sarah continued her banter with this boy and I found other things to occupy myself with until we both left soon afterward.

The first day next week the boys weren't at the courts, and the following day only the younger boy showed up to hit practice balls against the backstop on one of the far courts. Sarah couldn't resist and began her usual routine, which he simply ignored. When she asked him where his older friend was he coolly replied, "he's back at his school." It then occurred to me that he was just terribly shy.

Sarah lost interest and soon became bored and decided to leave for home early. I'd left my skates near the community building and after getting a drink of water from the fountain started off for home, taking the short cut through a large field of scrub brush and stunted pine trees. This large field was just beyond the courts and had been a source of endless childhood play for all the local kids, crisscrossed with dozens of trails, makeshift play forts, and numerous hideouts.

I'd walked through the field about half way home when as I came around a small bend in the path and was suddenly aware that my wavy-haired crush standing just off the trail about ten yards ahead with his back to me.   Instinctively, I stopped and watched him, curious as to what he was doing. Suddenly, I became aware that he was urinating in the bushes, and my face flushed powerfully. Perhaps I even gasped, but at any rate he must have become aware of someone's presence and turning his head slightly caught sight of me and, startled, embarrassed, he turned around. I caught just a glimpse of him zipping up his shorts.

"Are you spying me," he said angrily stepping toward me. Still stunned, my only reaction was to start crying, which seemed to alarm him even more. The next thing I knew he was standing over me trying to sssh me and calm me down. How I had ended up sitting on the ground I don't know; however, once I was aware that he wasn't really angry, I felt better and got to my feet with him helping me up. When he had me on my feet, I looked up at him, seeing him for the first time really close up, looking down at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. He assured me everything was all right and that he wasn't mad, even though I still had some stifled tears. I mostly remember just how warm and dizzy I felt, full so suddenly of all kinds of emotion, which seemed to just roll through me like waves.

Anyway, I composed myself and walked home with no other incident. He even accompanied me part of the way. The next day at the courts he was again alone, as was I, and I was aware that he was noticing me. I managed to leave at just the same time and met him again along the path, where we continued along chatting nicely. This pattern continued for several days though we gradually became more and more friendly in our conversation. As the days continued our parting conversations became longer and longer and more emotional charged. One day, he was talking and suddenly reached up and pulled a caterpillar out of my hair, causing me to squeal with excitement. The feel of his hands on my head and brushing against my cheek was electric. I knew I wanted to kiss him but did not, nor did he attempt to kiss me.

Two days later we were just at out point of departure, talking as we always had, when he did kiss me, deeply and powerfully. Though I'd never been kissed by a boy before, I went to it naturally. The feeling that went through my body was like nothing I had experienced, sexual in nature, I now understand, but to me entirely ignorant of what those feelings were, it just felt very good.

Finally, one evening we lingered perhaps even longer and soon the kisses were more passionate. I most recall him running his hand down over my bottom, pressing me to him. He then led me over to a hollow in some bushy area where we continued making-out, gradually becoming more and more overtly sexual. At no point do I remember feeling fear or reluctance, though I don't think I fully understood how charged the experience was or where it would lead. Without being too graphic, I would only say the encounter became fully sexual, though he never did penetrate me. I know that I wanted him too, but in my own ignorance (and I suppose his) full intercourse did not occur. Nonetheless, the stimulation he experienced did cause him to ejaculate, which he did in several long hot streams onto my stomach.

And that was it. Rolling off, he lay next to me panting for several minutes. Gradually, the realty of what I'd just done began to settle in but I was content for the time to just lay there and feel close to him. I was a riot of feelings and after a while started to cry softly. He sat up and holding me said in calming tones, "I am so sorry, so, so sorry. Please, I am sorry. I've never done anything like this. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" Hence some of the confusion I fell today, because, no, I don't think I was sorry myself, even if I wasn't exactly happy with what I'd done. I do say with full certainty, however, that I know I had I liked it. Obviously, he had too. The evidence of his pleasure was all over me.

He helped me clean up with a towel he had in his athletic bag and was more tender with me than any other human being outside my family had been to me in my life to that time. But it was getting late and we straightened up ourselves and walked out of the field and to the very edge of my own neighborhood. He said very little and I was completely silent. As we departed, he kissed me on the top and back of my head and tenderly pulled some loose twigs out of my twisted hair.

I arrived home sure that my dark deed would be read on my face but everything at home was just as it always was. I arrived late and barely had time to freshen up a bit before dinner. Soon after eating my younger sister, scrunched up her nose and said me to my alarm, "You stink!" My mother glared at her, but nothing else was said, though she gave me that instructive glance that meant I needed to bathe before bed. After a long hot bath in which I scrubbed myself clean, I replayed the scene in the bushes in my mind a dozen times or more, with nothing more than, well, wonder. Frankly, I didn't even think about pregnancy, though I suppose that was a remote possibility. In the morning, I rose, dressed and went to school as though nothing had ever happened. That was a Friday and because it was now the weekend, the pattern of my life was such that I didn't get back to the courts until the next week, only to miss my mystery man who was no where to be seen. Sarah had returned but soon found other amusements in other boys to tease, and even though I kept cautiously looking for my blue-eyed dream, I never saw him again.

Gradually, the incident faded in my mind, and I never, not ever, told anyone about it. Over the next several months and years it frequently would return to me at night in my room alone in my bed and I began to replay it over and over again. With modifications and slight variations, it became the main accompaniment to masturbation, with which I experimented throughout my teenage years. I had often gently fondled myself prior to any of this but never consciously to full sexual arousal. Soon, however, using my experience as my covert nighttime fantasy, I was able to stimulate myself to orgasm. I did not masturbate that often thereafter (maybe once or twice a week), nor was I ever obsessive about it, or sex in general. Indeed, I managed to stay a "virgin" (in a technical sense, at least) until my marriage at age twenty while still in college.

I was married for twenty three years before my husband was murdered in a robbery gone bad in a liquor store near our home. I loved him very, very much, and was absolutely devastated by his loss. For several years after his death, I just shut down. Eventually, my youngest daughter encouraged me to seek out new friendships, including men, but my depression always kept me from becoming close to anyone.

A family friend recommended I enter therapy to deal with my grief and depression, which I only did reluctantly. My first therapist was an intense, and I think, very angry woman, who explored with me what she supposed were my many unresolved conflicts. When I confessed the incidents of that spring day from early adolescence, she reacted with such shock and alarm, that it scared me. She almost had me convinced that I had been viciously raped by this boy and that the trauma was such that it cast an awful shadow over my whole life, making me a cold and indifferent lover to my husband and a distant mother to my two children. As part of my therapy, she had me write angry letters to this now long departed man who had abused me, denouncing him (and by implication all other men), which I dutifully did, though I don't think I ever really bought into her perverse notions of "abuse" and its consequences.

Actually, I had a very good relationship with my husband and we had marvelous sex throughout our entire marriage. Comparing my experiences with the complaints I hear from my oldest daughter (who thinks herself very liberated), I know that her father and I enjoyed a sex life together much more active and satisfying than her anxious attempts to please my dull-witted son-in-law with whatever devices and techniques they explore. How sad. I would never, however, reveal any of this to her and, instead only listen silently.

I put up with that therapist as long as I could bear it, but finally left her for some peace. Nonetheless, those sessions awoke in me the memories of my youth and over the last two years I resumed masturbating, gradually reawakening my sexuality again. Though I have not yet ventured into a relationship with another man, perhaps I will someday. For now, I enjoy only self-loving, with fond memories of my husband and my wavy-haired lover of so long ago.

Late one night last summer I drove out to my old neighborhood, which is just across town from where I now live (about 45 minutes away). I found the community center and old stomping grounds of my youth, and even though the vacant field is now covered by a couple of hundred homes, I located the area where I recall I had my first and, in many ways, most powerful sexual experience. Sitting there in my car, alone, all the years between that late spring afternoon and now welled up in me and I was overcome by very powerful emotions-all good, sweet, and some ways sad.

I'll bet I cried for almost an hour.

Afterwards, I felt real peace and glowing warmth, and for the first time in my life, I did something I never thought I'd ever do. Looking out across the carefully manicured lawns of a couple of houses where I supposed I had had my long ago tryst, I masturbated in my car to the most intense orgasm, I think I have ever given myself. I am almost 50 years old, a grandmother, and what is that about?

My new therapist is much more forgiving. She tells me that I am free to make of that experience whatever I will, but that I must make it my own and not feel ashamed or guilty about it. Of course, I know there are scenes like the one I describe above that are vile and violent abuses of young girls as I was then, but I just don't see that in what happened to me. To whomever that offends, I am sorry. I know it was wrong and shouldn't have happened by all that is moral, legal, and ethical, but I don't blame that boy any more than myself. Why he never returned, I can't say. I'm glad he didn't, given what might have proceeded beyond that one occasion, and the havoc that might have created for me and my family. Perhaps he had taken his pleasure in me indifferently and moved on, or more likely I think, he was probably terrified by what had happened and what trouble it might have caused him. Who knows?

In some ways, I think the incident helped prepare me for my adult life as a woman. I learned early the power of sexuality (my own and that of others' who might have been attracted to me) and the necessity to contain it appropriately. Though I dated in high school, other than the occasional expected make-out sessions and some mild petting with a couple of boys, I was able to keep my sexuality where it belonged. I was never taken advantage of by any boy, and unlike many of my friends and contemporaries, I also avoided a lot of the consequences of sexual liberation as they called it in those days: unwanted pregnancy, abortion, STD's, and in the case of one friend a very real and traumatic rape after a night of bar hopping.

I also know that that one early experience takes nothing else from any other part of my life, especially my husband, the only true love of my life. Perhaps I will one day move beyond it, whatever hold it has, but for now, I recall it for the pleasure it was, and the door it opened for me into the great mystery of my sexual being, and how it now opens that for me again. Perhaps there were other doors that I might have opened but for this one, and yet I am happy now with where my life has taken me.

Charli

To start with I just wanted to say how free this site has made me with me sexuality! I was never able to tell my friends that I was not a virgin before I found this site! So thank you so much.

I lost my virginity when I was a month away from turning 14. I know it sounds too young and very slutty but I was ready. My first lover was 16 which makes it sound even worse!

Well basically it happened when I was on holiday in Australia, we had caught each others eye a few times and had flirted non-verbally (you know a smile and a nod of the head). I got turned on just by looking at him, he wasn't particularly 'hot' but I found him very sexy.

My family had gone out to see an old friend and I had made an excuse that I wasn't feeling well because I had a very nice flirt with the boy -(who I shall call Rob for now!) -that morning and I was very horny and truthfully wanted to relieve myself!

Because I hadn't gone with them I felt bad so I went down to the gift shop to buy them some chocolate or something. Luckily Rob was down their doing a similar thing for his family! So we got to talking and went to my room to watch a movie because we were both bored, I got under the covers and he followed. He held my hand and I turned towards him and he gave me the softest kiss I had ever felt.

We kissed for several minutes and became more passionate by the second. He got on top of me and slid his hand up my top, he started massaging my nipples which I found exhilarating and new. He then took off my top and unhooked my bra. He said I was beautiful and I was comfortable with the situation. (Which was odd because I had always been self conscious of my body) He removed his own top and held me close while he kissed my neck and nibbled my ears.

He put his hand up my skirt and pulled off my knickers, I felt safe but had never had a guy touch me before so I was nervous. My heart was pounding and I had no idea what he was going to do next. He slid one finger into my pussy slowly started licking my clit, he said that I tasted so sweet and I was very horny and started breathing faster and faster because I was so into what he was doing. He then asked me how far I wanted to go and I told him I was more than ready for anything.

He removed his pants and boxers and I saw his dick up in arousal before for me. He placed on a condom, which I was thankful for, and I was fascinated with his beautiful penis, he took my hand and placed it on his hard cock, he slowly moved my hand up and down and instinctively I placed it in my mouth he closed his eyes and moaned, I felt amazing.

After we were both very aroused and I had removed all of my clothes he looked at my body and again told me that I was beautiful and he loved what we were doing. I shared his feelings. He pulled his body closer to mine and I could feel his hard dick touching my stomach, he brought it to my pussy and because I was very wet his pushed it in painlessly and with ease and filled me with so much pleasure. He slowly pushed in and out and in and out and each time his and my groans were getting louder and more passionate. He started pounding into my body and the pleasure was immense. I could feel that I was going to come so I raised myself off the bed slightly and brought one leg up onto his shoulder to get more fucking pleasure. He asked me if I was near and he said he was too, I had my first screaming orgasm (I had to place a pillow over my mouth!!)

He slowed down and told me that at the same time I had come he had too, his satisfaction filled me to the brim. We were both breathing heavily and sweating. He removed his penis and lay next to me, we kissed and then showered together kissing the whole time.

This experience was perfect to me and I was so amazed with the pleasure, I am now 16 and have had sex only one other time. After I found this site I was able to tell my friends and have them accept me because even being 16 only a few other people had had sex in our grade.

Thank you so much and I just wanted to ask one thing- my ex boyfriend had a fetish with candles and carrots and loved placing them in my pussy and getting me off with them instead of his penis. I have found a lump just at my fingertips in my pussy, and have been too afraid to go to the doctor, any idea what it might be??

Thank you! love from Charli

L.S.

I simply wanted to write to you and thank you for your wonderful site. Many years ago, back when I was still a virgin, I went and saw my doctor about some bumps that I had noticed on my clitoris. Hidden way up under the clitoral hood. As you can imagine I was quite distressed about this. I thought I had either an STI or a growth of some sort that was sure to disfigure my vagina in some way.

My doctor, who was female, told me the bumps were simply a case of me having enlarged glans. Well, like most people, I thought, "Who am I to question a doctor?" and I went away still unhappy about having those bumps, upset that I would have these white bumps on my clitoris that future lovers may come across.

So, over the years I've had issues with receiving oral sex, forever concerned that these white bumps might be discovered.

Now tonight, I was doing some random web-surfing. And I found a link to this website, saying that this site had lots of information on the clitoris. So, I clicked. I was secretly hoping that after all these years those little white bumps weren't permanent. And guess what? They're not. After going through your site I found that those little white bumps my doctor told me were permanent and part of my glans were actually dry smegma. That was it.

And with a long hot bath and some very gentle massage they're all gone. Just like that. I find it somewhat disturbing that my doctor didn't know what it really was on my clitoris. I actually got up on that little bed and pulled back my hood so she could see exactly what I was talking about. So it's not like she couldn't see or was too uncomfortable to ask me if she could have a look, as I showed her directly.

Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for the great site. You have no idea how much weight has been lifted from my shoulders. While the world may not be able to see our vagina's while we are out about during the course of an average day, how a woman's vagina looks has as much effect on her as her hairstyle or breast size or anything else that is visible to the world.

Krista

I'm about 13 and I found this website link on a website called Gaiaonline.com. My friend said it was very interesting I should see. Well that's how I'm here.

I was pretty young, five six maybe, when I had this friend Piper and we would play and things. We would play games when no one was around. Like I would be the girl and she would be the guy. We would date and stuff. Then we would go to her house (In the game) and we would well have sex. (What we did to pretend to have sex was we would have her lay on top me and she would hump me although we were both girls it was still fun) We always had our clothes on! But one night I slept over and I was supposed to sleep on a cot next to her bed. I waited until her parents were asleep then I would sneak up next to her in her bed. "I'll take off my shirt if you take off yours," she said to me whispering. "Okay," I took off my shirt and put it under the blankets a little. She dunked her head under to see me. I saw her exposed starting of boobs (She was older than me I think, she was a lot older.) Soon we were taking off our pants and examining each other. Soon we took off our panties being completely naked. She scooted closer and we sort of hugged for awhile.

Anonymous

Since this website deals so much with relationships and personal interactions as well as sex, I wanted to write in and discuss something I know all too well. EMOTIONAL AND MENTAL ABUSE. I believe there are many women and young girls who stay in abusive relationships because their romantic other does not hit them. There for all the other acts they do are somehow "okay."

I don't believe movies and TV always do a good job of showing the different types of abuse either. Often the abuse itself is very obvious and blatant. With the aggressor being the obvious "bad guy." In real life emotional abuse can start out rather harmless looking at first. Not something you would really notice under the heat and strong emotion of being in love. Besides that, emotional abusers can be very, very charming. Remember that they make a life out of controlling and having power over their victims. They are often the type of people you would never suspect of being abusers. Everyone often loves them and will even defend them till the bitter end.

Another little known fact about abusers is that they see their own actions and motives reflected in everybody else. Because they want to control you, they assume those around you are trying to do the same. And because they see you as a sex object and not as a real person, they also assume other men do as well. Everybody in your life becomes a threat to an abuser. This attempt to control your social life can be a very subtle thing at first. Whenever you become close to somebody else, your mate might suddenly have some sort of "crisis" that requires your immediate attention. They might accuse you of abandoning them in their moment of need or not needing them any more. As time goes on these acts of control will become more and more obvious. Even absurd. But in the end it becomes easier to simply be alone than to deal with the abusers wrath. And, in an ironic twist, the only person you have left to cling to is them.

It is important to understand that an abuser has a very idealistic view of both you and themselves. They are also very afraid of being alone. They will tear you down to nothing to make sure you will not leave them for anybody else.

Abusers can be spouses, friends, family or bosses.

AND THEY WILL NOT CHANGE.

They may put you on a pedestal. But they will bind and gag you to keep you there.

Lawliet - Age 19

Well like most English girls I had sex education in year 5 (equivalent to 6th grade I think). All of that where-babies-come-from stuff was not really a big shock, after all, the big kids told us all about it when they had sex-ed last year. And not being ones to break tradition, we told all the lower years what happened between "mummies and daddies who love each other very much". So sex-ed was generally ignored as much as geography until..... secondary school. (Like junior high/ high school)

Then boys were interesting. They weren't gross and smelly anymore (Well, they were. But we didn't mind.)

I had examined my body in-front of (and above) a mirror a few times before, but only in a curious sort of way. I'd never really attributed my body to what I'd learned about "sex". Plus it didn't seem the boys were interested in me anyway. They always talked to the pretty girls with "boobs" (which, at age 19, I have finally grown)

When I was about 11 or 12 I had my first experimental experiences, play-wrestling with one of my older brothers or my friends for a little too long. Or playing kiss-chase.

I was 13 when I lost my virginity and found out that my fanny (as in vulva, non-British people) was made for so much more than baby-making. His name was Mike and he was 24. The first time was in the back of his car, it hurt like all hell, right the way up to my ribs. I limped for a week. I told my parents I fell off my bike.

When all of my peers finally found sex at about age 14-15, I wasn't as show-offy about it as they were. I didn't need to suck off Billy Andrews to prove myself. Funnily enough I'm part of the 38% of girls who HASN'T been pregnant yet.

Being 19, I know my experience may be limited. but I've found that there are three main types of sex: making love, sex, and fucking.

Making love is when you are..... well, making love. When it's an expression of how passionate you are about each other and how much you want to be with each other. It is a symbol of your love and commitment.

Sex is when you just have to fill a hormonal or biological need. Little emotion just doing it, using each other (not always unenjoyable). Just there because it is.

Now fucking is downright dirty. Hard, fast, strong, good, noisy. The kind where furniture gets broken. You both want it and you both love it.

If you're lucky you'll find a partner who can give you all three types of love.

Me? I'm still looking.

Anonymous - Age 17

I am 17 years old, well, to kind of sum things up, I always thought I was alone. When I was around five years old, I have memories of my brother trying to stick his "thingy" (five year old terminology for a penis) in my "hole". I always thought it was wrong. I still sometimes feel uneasy about it because I have no good memories from it.

I have been masturbating for years, probably since I was 7 years old. I thought I was the only one who was...experimenting with their own body. I hated it too. It seemed like I was doing such a naughty thing, but it felt so good. I guess the next sexual experience I would have would be with my cousin. She stayed with me for close to a year, in the same bedroom. This was around sixth grade. We started by wondering how it was to be kissed, and we would kiss each other through blankets, or finally just kiss each other. One day we were talking and the subject of sex came up. We wondered how other people would "do it" and would demonstrate with each other. I remember us rubbing our area's together and I almost had an orgasm with her. We haven't talked really since she left.

To this day I have only ever had one other partial sexual experience. That was over the Internet with a much older woman. She was "coaching me" per say..and teasing me. Telling me what to do. I remember she had me stick a cube of ice in my pussy, and oddly enough, even though it was extremely...shocking, it was one of the most intense orgasms I have ever gotten.

I feel so much better reading all the stories, and information on your site. It's helped me realize I am not alone. However, I still think I struggle with being open. I really would like to have a girlfriend, or boyfriend who I can be open, and honest with about my sexuality, and who I can have sex with. Which is also very difficult for me right now because I am struggling with religion and love. Anyway, for all those people out there with problems like mine, I hope you get as much out of this site as I did!

Susan

I am writing this message as a response to Joann:-. I, too, am a Christian. I have found it very difficult to maintain my relationship with my husband as I have desires to be with a woman. I have had this desire for a substantial period of time, but I struggle with it because of my Christian upbringing and what the Bible says about being homosexual. However, the Bible also reflects a man is to love and honor his wife, but I found myself in circumstances where I was abused by "Christian" men who "loved the Lord." At the time of my abuse, I questioned all of this, and still do. Unfortunately, I had a lot of hate toward men, especially Christian men.

To this date, I have not been with a woman but if the right one came along, I might. The majority of my desire has to do with the fact that I want to know what it is like. I hear it is wonderful because a woman knows what a woman wants. There is a lot of caressing involved, or foreplay, and (for the most part) it is not a "wham bam, thank you ma'am" activity. My husband and I have actually discussed this situation, and a part of me believes he would be okay with it. He doesn't see a relationship between two women as "cheating" as long as he is aware of it (he probably wants to watch!). This only makes my desires stronger, but I feel like I have to fight this because I am married, and I want to have a solid relationship with my husband. I must say our relationship has become stronger since I voiced my desires to him. He completely understands, and I don't think most men would.

I think if I had to do life all over again before I got married, I believe I may have sought out a woman just to find out what it is like. Unfortunately, I sought out men who just wanted one thing, and it seriously cost me my self-esteem and value as a human being.

Joann, all I can say is "keep the faith". It is good your friend still accepts you and you accept the boundaries she has put on your relationship. It is always important to keep God in the center of relationships, and I think you may be disappointed in yourself if you choose to engage in physical/sexual contact with your friend. I definitely question people who believe "homosexuality" is a choice. I do believe God allowed this type of behavior for a reason and although I do not know exactly what that is, I can only say from experiences with other family members (not sexually), they were "different" at a very, very young age (possibly birth, which studies are now reflecting it could be due to the mother having depression). My cousin always dressed in girls clothes and now he is very popular in the "drag" society. I also know somebody who struggled with being a homosexual for years and in the process, got married and had children to cover it up. I believe this only made it worse for her because she was denying who she had been her whole life. In addition, I have a close friend (I call her my sister) who has been a lesbian for many years, and it was only recently she came out of the "closet". Some of my family members find this to be very heinous, but because I have not been put on this earth to judge, lest ye be judged, it is not my place to judge this person. She is an absolutely beautiful person, and she deserves the same respect as we all do.

I say this, Joann, to encourage you. It seems you have a lot of strong feelings for your friend, and that is okay. Just always remember that you need to respect yourself and those you come in contact with. If I personally knew you, I would never judge you because that is just not who I am. Your poem really reflects what you would like from your friend. Does she know you wrote it? I also admire her for her tenacity and listening to what God regarding what she should do or not do. I am sure she struggles with it, too. And, in today's society, it is hard to make proper choices.

Thank you, Joann, for sharing your desires and wishes. I am sure it wasn't easy for you, but it sometimes helps to be able to put things on paper. I can assume you are not ashamed of your feelings, and that is good. I have had enough therapy to finally understand that feelings are neither good nor bad, they just are.

Andrea

My mother and father divorced when I was about five years old and I lived with my mother, who was a very eccentric and as it turned out sick woman. I think I always suffered from the loss of my dad and from a very young age was very curious about boys and sexual matters. My mother was a medical professional (nurse) who insisted upon clinical discussions about the female body with my sister and me. Otherwise she was cold and dismissive. My sister was a goody-two-shoes and I was somewhat of a rebellious brat in that area of growth.

When I turned eight my mom abruptly married a man she met through her job at a local hospital. I developed an immediate crush on him and competed (I now realize) for his attention with my mother...Their marriage was not very good as my mother soon fell victim to her frequent bouts of depression, which she addressed with drug abuse and self medication. As she spiraled out of control, I often found myself drawn to my step-dad who holed himself up in our family room on those nights when my mother angrily retired to her bedroom. I would often seek him out, and while my mother was upstairs, cold, angry, and unavailable I would curl up in his lap and snuggle. I was well aware of my body by this age (about nine) and would frequently rub my pussy at night alone in my bed. There was nothing all that sexual to me about it...It just felt...GOOD!

My step-dad never sought me out in improper ways, but gradually our secret "snuggle" times became more and more sensual....He would generally lie back in his easy chair while I straddle him...We would start off with just "tickles and giggles" seemingly innocent enough, but after several minutes of my rubbing up against him, I was grinding myself against him stimulating myself...He never overtly touched me or pulled down my clothes but once when he was wearing only a robe and boxer shorts, I was aware of his erection.....and once while I was humping him, I felt his hand slip up under the legging of my short pajama bottoms and touch my pussy....As I ground down more insistently, he got very uncomfortable and pushed me off and sent me to bed....

When I was 12, I was already masturbating by manually stimulating my clitoris almost to the point of orgasm and many of my fantasies involved my step-dad. I had seen by pure accident a soft-core erotic movie on cable TV that involved a man performing oral sex on a young woman and I often fantasized my step-dad licking me...Our secret armchair sessions had ended, distracted by more pressing worries of my mother's rapid deterioration and mental illness. That same year, she attempted suicide, a very serious attempt, and was in a coma for almost a month. While she was in the hospital, I went and lived with my grandma, though I frequently talked to my step-dad on the phone. One night I was talking to him on the phone in bed when I said to him abruptly, "I love you." He paused and responded very sweetly, "I love you too, baby." Though there was nothing untoward about it, when I got off the phone I played with my pussy for over an hour, prior to going to sleep.

Soon after my mom's release release from the hospital, I experienced a resurgence of all those old feelings for my step-dad, even though we did not continue with our armchair exercises....Nonetheless, I was growing and becoming much more aware of my sexuality and had no understanding of what to do with those feeling. I enjoyed primping myself in my mother's bathroom, using her large garden tub to bathe, and expansive vanity mirror to admire myself, naked but for a towel wrapped loosely around me.

On one occasion, I was putting up my hair when my step-dad knocked on the bathroom door wishing to use the toilet...I opened the door and was full aware of him looking at me as a man looks at a woman, at least one who is still steamy from a hot bath with little to cover her but a towel and gooseflesh. Once again, he did nothing overtly, and when my towel slipped (and it did innocently) he pretended not to look at my breasts.....Nonetheless, I think I felt for the first time my breasts responding to a sexual feeling. [Every so often, I will to this day find ways to expose my breasts to people in public accidentally (letting by bikini top fall or wearing a loose fitting Tee shirt with no bra) and find it a real turn-on to know someone sees my tits.]

He didn't touch me but pushed passed me into the toilet area of the bathroom suite where he left the door cracked enough so that I could see him urinate....It was the first and only time I ever saw his penis and I was mesmerized....Even as he was in the bathroom he chatted back to me as though nothing was out of the ordinary and when I couldn't quite catch something he said I put my face close to the door and looking in saw him standing in front of the toilet with a full erection. I had never imagined that a man's cock was so large and I had never seen anything like it before, starring at it for quite a while....I know he wanted me to see it and we looked at each other, each knowing what we were thinking.....I didn't open the door fully but took a small step backward and opened the towel so he could see my full body....At the time, I had just developed small but ample breasts with hard nipples and had a full thatch of pubic hair around my pussy....I am not sure what he saw but I sure wanted him to see it all and for him to pursue me....I know this seems sick to some but that is what I honestly felt....I also add that to this day, I have never felt more sexy about my body than I did showing it to him through that partially opened door.

Fortunately, he did not advance things any further and when I heard a car turn into the driveway, I knew my mother had returned from her therapy and I made a hasty retreat to my own room. Later that night I masturbated furiously and I can only imagine that my step-dad did as well. There afterwards, he seemed to avoid me, or rather to avoid opportunities for us to be together alone....One other time, I put on a very sheer nightgown and paraded in front of him sure that he could see my fully naked body with the light between us there in the den, but he pretended not to react.

But that was all that happened. Within three months he and my mother split after a very angry exchange over money...I was sorry he left but gradually replaced my adolescent desires for him with worries about my mother...Those were to no avail, as she finally was successful with suicide my last year of high school. I entered therapy soon afterward and revealed much of my guilty feelings about those feelings for my step-dad during my sessions with my counselor....Although she kept prompting me to make an accusation of sexual abuse against him, I never did, and to this day, I am unsure how to characterize what happened between us....

Not long after my mom's death, he wrote me a long letter in which he apologized that he had not been the man my mother needed and for any hurt that had caused me. Who knows what to make of that. I certainly have no feelings for him today and I understand that he has since married and is very happy.

I am a grown woman now, 28, sexually active, and not at all ambivalent about those experiences....They remain very pleasant memories for me, and when I masturbate these days (which happens about three to four times a week), I replay those scenes and others I have invented in my mind. I even paused at one point writing this to masturbate while I read back through my remarks. I sometimes worry that I have warped this part of my sexual being but for now enjoy it without regrets.

If anyone should have advice, I'd be glad to hear it, but I don't think it likely I will change my feelings now.

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