Lonnie and I didn't have much time to talk the next morning. We had both gotten up late, and barely had enough time for breakfast before leaving for school. But if Lonnie's sunny smile was any indication, he had also experienced something profound in the darkness of his room the previous night. Knowing my brother as well as I did confirmed in my mind that he had reached the same conclusions I had.
Dad joined us at the table, and he, too, was sporting a bright smile. He explained that there was a guest asleep in the game room, and asked us not to disturb her. Lonnie and I had a difficult time keeping the knowing grins off our faces. We both figured that it would not be a good idea to question him about who she was, or why she was here. Our pretended ignorance was his bliss.
Blissful as Daddy was, it was apparent he was feeling some guilt. He said that it would be better if we didn't mention the guest to Mother. He stated that there was no reason to bother her with the information – "knowing how she would worry about the house not being presentable, etc." During the conversation he did not look at us while speaking but if he had we would have continued to keep our expressions neutral.
School was unbearable that day. I could not concentrate on even the most simple details of my lessons. Flashes of what I had seen and felt the night before constantly invaded my mind. I had to fight off a maddening urge to go to the girls' room, and reproduce those delicious feelings that I learned about last night. And if it were not for my underwear fortunately absorbing my sexual excitement, a stain, I would have found difficult to explain, would have appeared on my lightly colored slacks.
I sighed with relief as I left my last class. Now I could go home and explore the delights of my body again. The conversation I would have with my brother would not take place until later that night when we would be assured of our privacy. Since it was my father's poker night, he would leave the house after dinner, and not arrive home again before the early hours of the morning.
As I was leaving the school, Lonnie suddenly appeared beside me. He was still wearing the smile that had decorated his face earlier that morning.
"Oh, Lana, you would never believe what I did last night," he said.
"I don't know about that," I answered, giving him a knowing smile in return. "I, too, made some interesting discoveries about myself last night."
"Really?" he asked, arching his eyebrows.
"Really," I repeated, arching my own.
"We'll talk about it later after Daddy goes to his game," Lonnie instructed.
"Okay, Brother," I sung, "we got ourselves a date."
"Oh, yeah, before I forget," he said, stopping me from continuing on my way. "I have to stay late for a history lecture. So what I want you to do is study this book. It will be easier to talk about this subject, if we know the different names and functions. I'll see you later."
Lonnie ran back into the school, leaving me holding a book. The cover was concealed by loose leaf paper scotch-taped to the jacket. I peeled away one corner to read the title. It was "The Complete Anatomy and Physiology of Sex." I had to agree with my brother, it was exactly what the doctor ordered.
I rushed home, not wasting a minute. The anticipation of reading the book and taking care of my bodily demands was overwhelming. After entering the house, I raced to my room, and quickly disrobed. I wanted to look at my body in the light. Never before had I taken the time to really look at myself.
I stood in front of my wall-length mirror. My short, dark, red hair framed a face that other people considered cute. My height was average, five foot four. I weighed just over one-hundred pounds. My figured was still, it seemed, in the process of changing.
Although my breasts in no way compared to those of Mai Widner, they were still quite good, and quite large. They were firm and shapely. I didn't need a bra to support them. The nipples that topped my pale, rose-colored breasts were slightly darker, and swollen, having been exposed to the air and my feelings of inner excitement.
My stomach was tight and flat, my hips curved and shapely. When I looked close, I could see a fine, lightly colored thread of hair, which began just below my navel and trailed to the large thatch of auburn hair that formed the perfect triangle between my legs. The hair was not kinky like the TV woman's or my father's, but more like the hair of a cat, smooth and soft.
I turned around and studied the view of my rear. The cheeks of my behind were small but full, and no sign of flab or wrinkled flesh. My legs, though, were my best feature. They were long and lean, with curves in all the right places. Whenever I wore shorts and there were boys around, I was sure to get a few wolf whistles and complimentary comments about my "gams".
Before looking at my most sensitive and hidden parts, I thought it best to study the book my brother had given me. That way I figure I could more readily identify their mysteries.
I sat on my bed, and opened the book to the section on the anatomy and functions of the female sex and reproductive organs. On the first page, they had a diagram of the area between a woman's legs, with labeled arrows pointing at the various parts. The words they used for the different organs seemed very scientific and very cold. I liked the words my father and Mai used a lot better. Still, I took the time to memorize them.
Once I had the names and locations down, I took a hand mirror from my dresser and brought it back to the bed. Spreading my legs as far apart as I could, I placed the reflecting glass between my thighs, and focused on my womanhood. I quickly identified the fleshy outer lips as the labia. And after peeling those plump, little doors apart, the inner world of my sexual being was revealed to me.
The small, muscled mouth was the entrance to my vagina. The diagram showed it to be a long canal that ran deep into the hollows of my body. Again I became worried about the blockage I had encountered the night before. There was no way I could function as a whole woman with that dead-end in the middle of my main road. So instead of continuing on my journey of discovery, I turned back to the book in hope of finding an explanation for my vaginal obstruction.
It took only a few minutes to find exactly what I wanted. The book said that every female is born with a cartilage-like membrane in her vagina which impeded sexual penetration. It was called the hymen. The book went on to say that if a female had a hymen intact, she would be considered a virgin because it was impossible for intercourse to have taken place. Reading the passage removed a heavy burden from my mind.
I went on to read about the various ways the membrane could be eliminated. The three main ways to accomplish this were through a non-sexual tearing due to an accident or an athletic activity, like horseback riding; the surgical removal by a doctor, or the natural process of sexual intercourse. To me, the last was the most appealing.
As I was about to close the book, my eyes fixed on a chapter heading called "The Female Orgasm." I had never heard the word before, but after reading the section, it explained the phenomenon I had experienced the night before. It said that orgasm was the natural culmination of sexual arousal, and was brought on by direct stimulation of the clitoris. There were also certain theories, which had not been entirely disproved, that a woman could achieve orgasm through vaginal penetration, and in some cases, rectal stimulation. I hoped I was one of the lucky ladies that could climax all three ways.
After reading the last chapter, and having my mind relieved by the preceding one, I decided it was time for a little practical application. Back on the bed with my legs widely spread, I replaced the mirror in its strategic location, and commenced furthering my education.
Using the heel of my hand, I watched in the mirror as I gently massaged the outer lips or labia. The familiar new feelings rapidly began returning. It was a breathtaking sight when the lips began to pull apart to reveal the hot, pink tissue that resided within.
I moved back to my vagina, slowly using my finger, penetrated the slick canal, stopping when I reached the hymen. I was already wet with the juices of my arousal, and had no pain as I pumped my finger in and out, using a steady but slow rhythm. The feeling of fullness was sublime, and I began to desire something larger inside of me. Something very much like the male erect penis that Daddy had sported, or the one Lonnie could not hide, the previous night. Not having them at my disposal, I added a second finger to the first, and was greatly pleased by the lack of discomfort and the exquisite fullness.
The stage of my arousal had now reached the point when my pleasure-giving clitoris could no longer be ignored. Looking in the mirror, I could already see its hardened head peaking out from beneath, what the book called, the clitoral hood. Very tenderly, I touched the little button, and was quickly rewarded with a pleasure shock that shook my entire body.
I did not immediately go back to stimulating my clitoris. Instead, I continued to slide my fingers in and out of my vagina, and used my other hand to coax out a response from the different areas of sensitivity. There were varying feelings from each place I touched. The flesh around my clitoris was intense with sensation, while conversely, the tissue on the outside of my meaty lips was less so. But the biggest surprise was when I reached lower, and began caressing my asshole and the surrounding area. It was alive with the most wonderful feelings. Using some of my natural lubricant I glided my fingers over the tightly muscled hole. If a year before, somebody had told me that my rectum was a pleasure organ, I would have laughed in their face. But now, I was a true believer.
Soon, my body became too fevered for additional exploration. I returned to the little, insignificant-looking pleasure bud. Lightly, at first, I again touched it. The shock, if anything, was stronger than before, and involuntarily, the speed by which I was touch it, began to increase – and increase and increase – as I came closer to my desired orgasmic release. The only difference between this and the night before was that I continued to pump my fingers into my steamy vaginal canal.
When my orgasm hit, it was more intense than the previous one. I don't know if it was the fact that my fingers were filling my hole or what, but there was a definite difference. Although it started like the night before with spasms beginning deep inside my body, this time when they rolled to my vagina, the walls of the slick cavern clamped down hard on my imbedded fingers. It was almost like my vagina was snapping at my invading fingers. Whatever the reason, it was definitely better. I vowed to use this technique regularly during my newfound pleasure hobby.
When my body had finally relaxed after the onslaught of pleasure, I went back to studying the book that Lonnie had given me. I read that masturbation was the self servicing of my body that I had discovered on my own. The book went on to say, there was no known harm that came to one who indulged in such activities. This, of course, refuted the instructions about not touching myself that Mother had previously given me.
I boned up on the male anatomy as well, and learned a great deal. The male orgasm, it seemed, was different from the female's. I was dying to compare notes with my brother. It would be interesting to find out exactly how he had discovered that pleasure the night before. There was no doubt that we were going to learn a great deal from one another. We had no choice.
Dinner, that night, was uneventful, and if it had not been for the anticipation of talking to Lonnie, later, it would have been plain boring. The talk around the table between Daddy and ourselves was all of the small variety. The only interesting thing said was by my father…
"Listen, guys," he said, "I want to apologize about running out on your party last night. I really didn't have any choice. When the station calls, I have to move my tail. Mai Widner, the TV host, was publicly slandered by a guest on her live television show. She was very distraught, and I'm the one they called. She was the person who stayed here last night. I didn't believe it would be a good idea for her to go home to an empty apartment in her condition. So, after taking her out for a few drinks, I brought her here."
Both Lonnie and I nodded our heads with approval. Although we knew what actually went on the previous night, we didn't want to let him know what we had seen. There was no reason to embarrass him because he submitted to a very natural desire. It was truly amazing how mature we had become in the space of twenty-four hours.
"I think you might be seeing more of Mai," Daddy went on. Lonnie and I had to suppress our giggles, having seen as much of Mai as possible. "I think you'll both like her, and she did mention that she would enjoy meeting the two of you. We became pretty close in one evening and, I'd like to believe, we've become very good friends."
My brother was elated at the prospects of meeting the TV lady. I guess he wanted to see her up close this time to make sure that his eyes had not deceived him. I, too, was anxious to meet someone who promised to be interesting, and the lover of my daddy.
My father left the table, saying he had to get ready for his card game, and that he would see us in the morning.
"If he only knew," Lonnie said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling once our father was out of earshot.
"I have to admit, it sure was an eye-opening sight," I agreed, laughing. "Knock on my door when you're finished studying."