Dear Diary,
So today is my 12th birthday. Yesterday was the strangest day of my life. It started out with my first “wet dream” and then I learned about some of the secrets to becoming a woman. I will attempt to write down exactly what happened, but after this, I will definitely have to make sure this diary is hidden from here on out.
I mean, if my mom or dad were ever to find this! Yikes!
To begin, I'll start with the dream and how I woke up this morning.
Terry, my brother, sat on the bed, with his back to the door.
Until a few minutes ago he had been resting quite comfortably.
He wiped the sleep from his eyes and rose from the bed, strolling over to the dresser and retrieved a clean set of shorts and headed off to the bathroom.
I, being just one year younger, heard movement from inside his room and rushed to gather my clothes together. As I crossed out of my room, I was just in time to see the bathroom door ajar and heard the water begin to flow from the shower. Damn, just once I'd like to be able to beat him. Nothing I try to do has ever phased him in the least. My brother must be the most arrogant butthole in the universe.
The boat shuddered, as if hitting one of the speedbumps found at the entrance to their old apartment in Cleveland, Ohio.
Sometimes I wished my parents hadn't taken their vacation out on the ocean. Why couldn't they have just gone to Disneyland like other families?
Glancing at my calendar above the desk, I noticed it was Friday the 13th. Since this was also my birthday, I recalled how my parents told me of my being born into this world during the bombing of Berlin. Now that I am twelve years of age, did they actually think I believed I had been dropped by a stork? I probably knew more about sex then they did. I'd heard their sounds of lovemaking. Did they think I was deaf to the banging of the bed against my bedroom wall? Did it really only take about four minutes to satisfy each other? Like, for real. that I would believe that the stork brought me, why did they insist on treating me like a child? Many is the time I wish that I had a friend that I could absolutely trust to tell any and all of my secrets. I wish there was someone who treated me with respect. Who treated me as an equal.
I have only one brother. He is like a mirror image of me, only he is one year older. Many people mistake us for being twins.
If it wasn't for finally my maturing enough to having a bit of a chest, and my long hair black hair, we could be mistaken as identical brothers. I blame him for being older. He is always teasing and picking on me. It is few and far between that I am able to get back at him. Just last week he had stolen one of my new training bras and was using it as a slingshot in the back yard with some of the neighborhood boys. I got even with him by taking his adult magazines, hidden under his bedroom, mattress. I'll bet he is still worried that it was mom who had found them.
Leaving my bedroom, I have decided I am tired of having to wait for my brother to finish in the bathroom for my turn. So I stormed into the bathroom and pulled my panties down, sat on the toilet and glared at his wet form through the shower's glass door.
Terry heard the door open, but it didn't register until a few moments later that someone was with him. Continuing to shampoo his hair, and then rinsing it, he noticed my staring at him.
Since he was only thirteen, and his masculinity was just kicking in, the fact that his sister was in the bathroom was just a bit too much for his juvenile pride to handle. He shut the water off and slid the shower door open. Acting like it didn't bother him in the least, he grabbed a towel and dried his hair, and began working his way down his body. As he reached his penis, he emphasized the fact that he had just reached puberty and the light tuft of curls were given extreme attention with his towel.
He enjoyed the amazed look on my face as I watched him exhibit himself in this manner. Just to add the icing on the cake, he wrapped the towel around the penis of his penis and stroked it a few times to cause it to become semi-erect. Its normal size of two inches, grew to just over three, as he excited himself to an semi-erection. A small drop of moisture formed at the eye of his hardening penis. He must have noticed I was intently watching the jerking movements and pulses his penis, made as he moved his towel again up and down the length of his penis.
I didn't blink an eye. If it was a battle of the body as well as the mind, I would do my best to keep with him. I leaned back on the toilet and allowed him to watch me urinate into the water below. Normally that might make most males a bit apprehensive and turned off, but he had never seen a girl perform this private bodily function. Males just usually strolled up to a john, whipped it out and aimed for the water below. His erection grew slightly as he observed me. Terry could see the spray flow from my mound and splash below. He watched the golden fluid as it left my body to shower upon the water. I then took a few sheets of toilet paper and wiping myself, I made sure that my fingers caused my vagina to spread apart and expose its virginal entrance.
We hadn't seen each others bodies since we had stopped taking baths together, around five years ago. This open viewing was really the most that either of us had seen of the opposite sex naked. I calmly bent over to pull my panties up, and while doing so, brought my face purposely to within inches of his penis. My breath had to have been felt by him as I stood upright. Strolling over to the door, I left the bathroom without so much as a backwards glance. I thought, silently to myself, that I had definitely finally bested him. Maybe now he would treat me more like an adult, instead of a brat baby sister!
Closing the door behind me, I placed an ear against it to listen for any comments Terry might make under his breath. All I could hear was a continuous smacking sound. Lowering my eyes to the keyhole, I observed my brother stroking his penis furiously. His balls swinging, as he pummeled his fist from the tip, to the base, in a heated fashion. Suddenly his knees started buckling and I wished that I could see his face, but could only note that he was pumping his fist almost faster than I could follow. With a moan from inside the bathroom, I watched as he spurted his hot white semen. At his young age, he shot so hard, that it seemed he might never end. When he finished I saw him wiping his hand with the towel and attempting to clean the floor of his sticky substance. He then pulled on his under shorts, so off I ran to my room.
Hearing his bedroom door close, I knew that he had left and now could go in and take a shower. Upon entering the bathroom, I turned and placed the catch that served as a lock on the inside the door and stripped myself of my night shirt and panties. I saw in the mirror how erect my nipple had become and they seemed to be at least twice as large. I was really proud of the way my body had matured over the last few months. My gaze fell to the sink, where I had noticed Terry had been facing. I saw about three splotches of gooey white stuff on the edge. Remembering how his penis had erupted, I reached down and for the first time in my life touched semen. I noticed, almost in a scientific manner, that it was indeed sticky, as some of the other more experienced girls in my class had bragged to me. I could still feel the heat from its moisture. Bringing my fingers up to my face, I could actually smell the scent of him. Disappointed, but curious, I couldn't bring herself to taste something found in a bathroom. Rubbing the semen between my fingers, I imagined two people having sex. I mean real sex. The man plunging deep inside of the woman, bringing them both to new heights of passion. I wondered what the explosion of it deep inside myself would feel like. My other hand naturally found the cleft between my legs and I began to slide my index finger gently between the moist lips. With my other hand, I placed the sticky material on my nipples and pinching them ever so slightly, felt electric jolts throughout my body. I had never revealed feelings such as those that were overbearing my body now. I thrust my pelvis out as I tore at the sheets that confined me.
Dear Diary,
This ends my dream and I will attempt to tell you of what happened during that following morning. It had seemed so real.
I couldn't believe that I had thought about Terry that way, but my father never let me go around other boys. He is really the only male close to my age I have contact with. But as the morning began, I soon learned more about becoming a woman.
It was then I awoke, realizing I had just experienced my first graphic 'wet dream.' My left hand was still thrust deep into my panties and the moisture from deep inside had escaped to soak the sheets about myself. The last thing I remembered from the night before, was curling up to read a book. I had been visiting with my girlfriend and there had been a lack of reading material for my age in the guest room. So having discovered an adult book hidden in the bottom dresser drawer, and in the curiosity of it, I decided to see if some of the stories I had heard spoken about these books, with my friends, might be true.
The book had been quite graphic in detail and seemed to bring a warmth to my private areas. At first my knees bounced back and forth causing my thighs to open and close, this movement had always excited me before, but it wasn't quite enough for me any more. I needed more sensation than the simple hint of excitement it caused. I couldn't help but pull my panties to the side and begin sliding my finger up and down my privates as I read. As I got more into the story, I suddenly started to feel my vagina muscles quiver. Scared, I quit touching myself, but continued to read.
It was only a few pages later I realized that my finger was again pressing itself against my moist slit. My breath quickened as I read how the hero of the story was ravaging a beautiful Amazon woman. As my eyes grew heavy, I decided I had read enough for one night and placed the book on the night stand and turned over and fell fast asleep. It wasn't until my “wet dream” that I had discovered that my imagination was waking me up and causing me to think more like a woman instead of a little girl.
Drawing my hand from the inside of my panties, I drew back the covers and wandered off to the bathroom to clean up before anyone else in the house woke up. Passing through the hallway, I noticed that my girlfriend, Carla, was lying in her bed, with the covers thrown about her as well. I wondered if she might be having these feelings as well. Yet it was still early in the morning, and my friend was still deep asleep. Carla normally wore boys pajamas to bed and I could see that Carla had only worn the shirt. It's buttons had opened, during her tossing in the night, and one nipple was peeking out between the now open gap. I stepped into the room and covered her up with the sheet she had tossed aside in the night.
On down through the hallway, I passed my girlfriend's parents room. Carla's parents both worked at jobs that took them out of town on occasion, so it was often you might find one of them gone for days. This time Carla's dad happened to be home.
Boy was he handsome for his age, which was 43.
I kept thinking that if he was about twenty years younger and not married I might have been lucky enough to marry a man like him.
Peeking into his room, I noticed him asleep on the bed. His muscular body was turned from me, yet I could tell he never slept in pajamas like my own brother or father did. He usually wore short pants. Having caught glimpses of him after he removed them, to retire for the night, I knew that he wore only skimpy briefs. On tip toe, I crept into his room and to the other side of the bed and gazed down upon his sleeping form. My eyes immediately trailed down his body to alight upon his crotch. Thinking back, I remembered how some girls said they liked to look at a mans butt. I chuckled, as I had always thought that was silly. I mean, a girl couldn't have sex with a mans butt, could they?
He had been lying on the floor watching TV with them earlier.
I wished he had fallen asleep there. I imagined taking advantage of him while he sleeping at my feet. I could have easily touched his penis and he would have never known. The one time I had really wished he had stayed in the front room and wrestled with me, tackling me and pinning my body to the floor, with his crotch next to mine, separated only by thin pieces of cloth. His innocent tickling came so close to sexually teasing.
Last night I would have teased him back with threats of de-pantsing him, and I knew that he would have let me. Some men really enjoyed having the woman being dominate. Especially when they were unsure of how far to go with them. This meant that the girl could have control over a situation and was usually more relaxed and excitable knowing she was the master over his total existence. Mike was just one of the few men who had this quality. If he ever stepped slightly out of bounds, he instantly apologized and I knew he really meant it.
It was then Mike rolled over onto his back. I jumped next to the dresser, so that he might not see me if he woke up. Yet the regular breathing of his, showed me that he was still in a deep sleep. His arm covered his face and a slight stubble was forming, since he must have forgotten to shave the prior morning.
The way he was laying was now more to my advantage, as I had a clear view of his stretched out body. He was indeed wearing a pair of silk briefs. They may normally cover his penis, yet at these early hours of the morning, showed his penis semi-erect. My brother often had a hard-on that formed a little tent in his sheets, and mom had explained that most males get an erection when they sleep. It seemed they never stopped thinking of sex or something related to that subject. Little did they know that women have the same feelings, but would never let the male species catch on to that fact!
As I looked down at him, I discovered the tip of his penis had slipped out the elastic of his briefs and was in plain sight for me to view. I knew that if he was to wake up now, he would never say a word, yet the embarrassment of being there, would make me want to melt into the floor. Just as the thought of seeing his totally nude body crossed my mind, I leaned over to gain a closer view of the crown of his cock. His heavy breathing showed me that he was still fast asleep. I cautiously reached down and touched the outline of his penis through his briefs. His breaths became faster and I noticed his penis becoming more erect. Scared, I backed away from him, yet couldn't bring myself to leave. Leaning over again, I placed my finger in the gap formed by his penis and the elastic of his briefs. I had played enough tricks on my brother, that I knew that most men could sleep through an atomic explosion.
Even if he did awaken, I knew he would pretend to stay asleep.
It was doubtful that he would wake up though.
Drawing my attention to the main attraction within inches of me, I pulled back on the elastic of Mike's skimpy briefs. I gasped, as my slight touch caused his now rigid penis to help bring the thin material away from his body. His breathing was now much more rapid, yet I sensed he was still asleep. I thought, if anything, he will probably think this is all a dream, such as I had earlier. My hand trembled as I pulled the shorts down farther and exposed his complete penis. I had never viewed a mans penis. Sure, I had seen my brothers when they were younger, yet that was nothing like the fully developed appendage I was viewing now. It was really scary, thrilling, electrifying, and definitely went against everything I had been taught and warned about. But I had to stay and see that beautiful, yet intimidating penis. Someday I knew I would feel the pulsing of one just like this, between my own legs.
The thought of his cock driving itself deep inside my privates almost caused me to run out of the room. Just the idea that something so large could ever plunge into me, caused my body to cringe. It was then I realized that women must have been made to be compatible and though I couldn't, no wouldn't, imagine it pulsing in my most private of places. I knew my privates could stretch to accept his throbbing penis, had I really wanted it to.
I had to touch him and see if it was real. My tiny fingers lightly ran themselves up and down the base of his penis.
Bravely, I even reached down, and tickled the pubic hairs that surrounded his testicles. His breath became ragged as I continued running my fingers through his pubic hairs. Realizing that if I continued my exploration, he might ejaculate. I stopped until his breathing became more regular. I just had to know if what the other girls said was true about the taste of semen. Would I be able to make him perform without his waking up? Was cum actually salty? Why did they say it was sticky?
This must be why women can have total control over a man, as least in the bedroom. If I could control him, I could learn to control anything that came up against me in life. But could he orgasm without having intercourse? Was what I was doing classified as having sex? Only a few people might say yes, many would argue the other way. Yet wasn't sex the actual act of intercourse? Couldn't two people enjoy each other's company intimately without actual penetration?
There were too many thoughts running through my head. I felt like I was angry with all the people in the world. Why wasn't life just plain and simple? Why do we have to hide everything we do as if it is wrong? Why did we even have to wear clothes?
It seemed like only the rich could wear fancy clothes and if no one wore any, then we'd have to classify people for what they were instead of what they wore. Are these thoughts wrong?
What is wrong? Some say that a woman's body is a temple, while others state it's a receptacle. Some men could be so cruel, while others were so nice. It was then I came to the realization that it would only be resolved if I decided herself. Each of us are individuals and no one is the same. The best decisions may be okay for the majority, yet that still meant that some minorities would still be hurt. True one should save themselves for marriage, yet in this day and age of divorce and separation and abuse, what is the reasoning for loosing so many years of a life, saving for that one special person, just to have them leave later? What about disease? Couldn't that be God's way of punishing those who do not abstain? Yet didn't God give us this urge to explore and be intimate? He didn't just have us 'reproduce'! It's true, most girls mature physically more than mentally, but hadn't I really been the one in charge of our household since both of my own parents were away at work most of time? I felt that I was much more mentally fit then most adults would admit. The fact was, I was probably more mature than many adults I knew.
I made my decision in one felled swoop. I knew that I pondered on the answer I would give myself many times in the past, if the chance ever arose, it would be this. I would insure that any man I might explore the facts of life with, would have to follow the ground rules we both set forth. With neither of us going too far and yet far enough to satisfy each other. This would allow me to be true to the way I had been raised and yet true to myself.