My very first orgasm was spurred by dirty writing. I was twelve and I had found a book of dirty limericks my father had left on a coffee table in the living room. After reading a number of bawdy poems, I became aware of this tingly sensation in my girly parts. Not long before this, all the girls in my grade had received 'the talk' and we got a pink pamphlet offering all kinds of wisdom including the assurance that it was it was okay to touch yourself 'down there.' Up until that point I had not really known what that meant, but the dirty limericks had lit a small fire in my panties and so in went my fingers. The climax was lightning fast and almost painful. In my youthful ignorance, I had pushed the hood back and had gone straight at my clit with a dry finger; but it got the job done, a few strokes and I felt this flash of raw pleasure. From then on, I was hooked--both on orgasms and the erotic writing that first ignited the fire.
Shortly thereafter, I moved from dirty poetry to a Penthouse Forum Digest that I found in the top drawer of my dad's bedside table. What an education! I later discovered that the bottom drawer of that table was a veritable treasure trove of dirty magazines and books of erotica that I voraciously devoured throughout my teen years. I wonder how many other girls read the erotic classic "Fanny Hill" at 13? Or the thoroughly raunchy "Laura Middleton, her brother and her lover" at 18? I'm now in my 40s, and I while I have discovered how nice it is to give and get orgasms from someone else, I have never lost my love of sexually explicit writing nor of getting myself off. |
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