anmeetkaur99's blog

I pushed aside my pillows and turned onto my

stomach. My feet hung off the end of the bed, my toes 

hooked over the edge. The way I do. And through my 

cotton nightgown, I put two fingers of my right hand 

on my clitsss and thought of him. Standing in a room, 

coming toward me, watching me undress.… (It must 

always be through a nightgown or a pair of 


I’ve wondered if this is because of the greater friction. 

Surely that must be part of it, but there is something 

more, perhaps the thrill that first came to me as a 

small girl, pressing my fingers against myself, the cloth 

interceding between my fingers and my vag, 

interceding between shame and pleasure).…

One Sunday morning in boarding school I found my 

roommate lying on her back on the tile floor of the 

shower stall. Her legs … were splayed on either side of 

the spigots, the water cascading between her slack 

muscular thighs.… She remains to this day the only 

woman I’ve ever known who spoke freely of her own 

wanking. She urged me to try it. I didn’t have the 

courage to tell her that I had found my own way. 

Women will talk about anything— s e xual jealousy, 

dishonor, the lovely advantages of eating p u s s y or 

sucking c o c k— but they will not tell you about 

4ucking themselves.


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