Hi, I'm Julie and I'd like to share my experiences I had as a schoolgirl in a southern seaside town some years ago. I loved that time in my life when so much was possible and open to experimentation and discovery of myself and my hidden depths. Some times were not so good but these were definitely the best times. I hope that as you read, you'll begin to appreciate my journeys and experiences; feel the butterflies I felt, with my heart in my mouth and the unbearable, growing excitement whilst walking/almost running to meet someone for the second time - and of course, you enjoy my memories!

Like other girls growing up, I was becoming aware without directly looking; if I sat on the floor with my legs closed but knees up, boys and men would look up my pinafore at the triangle of navy framing the tops of my legs. I also discovered that if I opened my legs slightly, the triangle would change into an oblong, the interest in my knickers would intensify, then by moving position to turn the oblong into an hourglass their faces would contort and their breathing went funny. To me then, this was wierd but it gave me a warm feeling of power over them and things started to stir within me. 

Not long after that, I was walking along the seafront of the south coast resort where I lived, home from school to meet someone I'd met previously for chats. We'd actually got to the stage of me showing my knickers and he wanted to see more. This time I'd finally agree after all his pleading. We'd meet on the seafront then walk up to the nearby park. There was a wilder part where no one used to visit very much. He laid his long coat onto the ground and I followed and sat onto it.

I told him that he was to do exactly as I say. He lifted up my school pinafore pleated section and folded it back above my waist, pulling my blouse out of my navy knickers at the same time. I lifted up my hips off the ground and he pulled them down, I remember being interested in the way they stretched as they travelled down my legs. I lifted my legs one at a time and he removed them. I told him that I must not look at what he would do, so he was to place a jumper or handkerchief folded over my eyes. Instead and to my surprise he gave my knickers a little shake, turned them round and he started to place them over my hair. 

I was initially shocked and not sure how to react; the soft nylon material clung to my head as the knickers were pulled over my face and dragged over my nose. Finally the waistband twanged gently onto and lightly gripped my neck, My head encased in navy. I realised straightaway that I could smell myself. At first I wasn't sure about it. but as he started to explore my lower body (how, I could only guess at) - from his shadow cast through the navy material, and, from the occasional glimpse of the back of his silvering hair from my obscured vision through the cuffed legs. MY breathing began to labour with excitement when I realised I liked my smell which had an undefined edge to it, I breathed in deeper and deeper, which made me not just slightly giddy but also trembled with excitement. With his shaking and exploring hands over my tummy, it wasn't long before that delicious ache within grew. For some reason I stuck my tongue out and delighted in the slightly salty and unique tang of my knickers. It was rude, disgusting but very lovely. It wasn't so long before my deep breathing matched the contractions as they overwhelmed me. 

So after that particular experience, I often found myself in bed at the end of the day, my nightdress on and lowering my navy knickers over my head to sniff deeply and to lick them. On one occasion, I fell asleep with them on and woke up with them, to a knocking on my door to get up. I just managed to drag my head under the covers to remove them as the door opened. THAT would have been hard to explain away!

I can recall exactly when I had my first erotic experiences. The knicker flashing to start with, was merely a power trip for me. I'd had a miserable life up until then and this was my payback time! My curiosity about what the men and boys were looking at and the subsequent stirring within, led me to some Spring days of experimentation and my own Summer of love. 

One day after school, I shed my blazer and pinafore in the usual way and looked at myself in the mirror. I sort of screwed up my plain face at the sight; What in hell was so attractive? I asked myself. I pulled up my school knickers to my high waist, my mound prominent in the afternoon shadows. I decided to change and perform some exercises before anyone returned home. Shoving the blouse and school knickers into the linen basket, I found my navy leotard and struggled into it. Being nylon it stretched in the wrong places at the wrong time, it was fiddly to get into it. Finally after tugging the half-sleeves straight and pulling what seemed like most of the material from my bottom, I began my exercises in the front room.

First I undertook the usual; legs up against the wall, holding one leg straight out with the opposite arm, followed by alternating the arms and legs. Then turning onto my back, raising my legs, separating them out sideways before returning to a parallel position. Some squat thrusts followed by my favourite exercise: Laying on my back once again, my hands on the carpet above my head, I lift my legs and move them so the knees meet my shoulders on the floor, allowing me to stare at my crutch encased by the taut material, showing every curve and lines closeup. After adjusting the material there, I finish with a Crab - that is, I lay onto my back again, put my hands by my shoulders and push up; my midriff pushing upwards so the only parts touching the carpet were my hands and feet. I lift my legs further away for support, realising the material had clung to me, into my form. As I look down my body, in line with my mound and out of the large picture window I notice a bloomin' neighbour, home early from work parked closeby in his car! Damn! I try and dampen any curiosity, so I pretend not to see him. Rather than looking shocked, I calmly walk over to the TV, switched it on then flopped onto the sofa. I wondered what he had seen? Several seconds or the whole thing? I wasn't expecting anyone in the neighbourhood at 4 in the afternoon. Damn Damn!

Hoping he couldn't see my navy leotard against the dark but patterned sofa, I rolled over onto my belly and laid low down, my head tucked sideways on the low sofa arm. I couldn't really disguise my legs, I straightened and dug my feet into the second fold of the three cushions, I tucked my arms under myself and watched some TV. My right hand fell naturally against my mound and I lazily explored the contours, finally tracing the middle line, down toward my bottom. I began to shake and tremble slightly. I opened my legs slightly and began to probe along that line which yielded more stirrings within. The feelings towards the top of the slit began to increase. This wierd aching began to preoccupy me. As I probed against myself, my breathing became irregular and I felt senstive all over. Sometime, I began to rock my hips slowly from side to side against my fingers, I noticed I caught my breath now and then in little gasps. Then swivelling my hips and bottom forward and back into the sofa against my still fingers - I glanced sideways to the outside - to my chagrin - the neighbour was still there but thankfully he was still over 30 feet away. 

Figuring that these slight movements could still not be seen from outside, especially against the sofa I continued. Still laid on my stomach, I pulled the leotard to one side and rubbed my mound directly. I was surprised at the wetness on my skin. Worrying that it would stain the sofa, I pulled the material back and continued rocking and swivelling as before through the material - at least it wasn't quite so sensitive to rub. Somehow the TV became a blur as I focused on the growing sweet ache - it seemed to accelerate and grow - I found myself rocking and swivelling more physically as the ache increased to unknown levels, I found my bottom and vaginal muscles pulling in tighter and tighter, seemlingly pulling the leotard material tighter into my cracks, making the material heavy with moisture. The intensity in me grew - and then it happened! My head shot back as I cried out; my trailing hair casting a shadow against the white walls, An explosion of ecstacy within me accompanied a deep delicious vaginal and anal spasm which startled me - then another - then another and another - more, while my mind convulsed ... until it finally subsided. I turned again to look outside and the neighbour was still there, but seemed oblivious. HAD he seen anything at all? Was it just me being wierd or paranoid? Was he just working in his car after all?

I lay quite still, taking it all in. Wow. I thought. What was THAT. I had no idea what it was, so after some thinking I decided to call it my 'Twitches'. Neat. I got up, got changed and opened all the windows - just in case. I almost got away with it until I was asked much later - why were all the windows open? I'd forgotten. Luckily I mumbled in time that there was a wasp in the house to which the reply: IN MAY??

I was sent to my room and bed early with no tv. It was no problem for me though - there were going to be more experiments and more 'Twitches' to be experienced...

Having reached the seafront after school, I approached the shelter with trepidation. Good, no one there yet.  I chose this one because it was the last one on the promenade with few passers-by to interfere with my interesting games.  I sat in the deep alcove, placed my satchel on one end of the long bench that filled the width of the shelter.  I removed my blazer, folded it and placed it on the satchel.  I swivelled round and propped myself against it and placed my feet on the bench, drawing my knees up so I could read my book in the summer sun.  Several footsteps came and went before my heart leapt as a shoe placed itself on the crumbling concrete step of the shelter.  I casually looked up as a man came in and sat midway between me and the opposite wall. He nodded and I went back to my book. After a short while I glanced up over the top of my book to see him covertly looking at the top of my legs, at the small triangle of school knickers.

I yawned and he looked away.  More footsteps came and went outside.  I scratched my knee and opened my legs so I could place the spine of the book between them.  I glanced over the top to see him looking at my oblong of navy. I turned some more pages when I heard some coins drop.  I leant forward and asked if he wanted help but he said no.  I kept my legs in the v-shaped position as he scrambled about on his hands and knees, the top of his greying head betraying his real intentions - looking quite closely at the hourglass of navy blue in front of him, not two feet away - seemingly in worship.

I looked over and asked if he had the time as I had to be home by six. He replied that it was only 3.30 so had plenty of time.  I smiled. I leant back. After an age he finally resumed his seat and started talking.  He asked the usual questions and asked casually whether I could still do handstands. I retorted of course, I did them all the time. He seemed not to believe me, so I stood up ready. He said to wait to check if the coast was clear. I asked why. He hesitated then replied he was concerned that it would look odd to other people. 

I said: "It's OK, I don't mind being rude".  He stepped outside and said; "OK it's clear". I took the step forward and levered upward, my feet reached the peeling wooden facia, my navy pinafore lower pleats spread, then fell, my school knickers revealing themselves. Almost immediately my legs fell inward. "Told you" he smiled.
I tried again. same result. He told me to do it again and this time he would keep my legs still.

Once up, he held my legs in the new position. I looked down - or rather up from my perspective. "I need more steadying", I complained. He placed his hand on my knickered tummy.  I said that was better.

He rotated his hand and moved it so his fingers sat on my mound. I said nothing. He pressed gently. I looked up at his hand disappearing out of my view between my legs.
"Someone's coming!" he whispered so we sat back in the shelter.  A couple recognised my new friend and cajoled him into returning to the hotel for a drink.  Damn! my afternoon fun was spoilt by that horrid couple. My heart sank.  As he left, he mouthed something to me which I couldn't understand.  I trailed home disappointed. During dinner I blurted out "Tomorrow!" I was told to shut up and to eat my meal.  I thought excitedly;  He meant tomorrow - to meet him tomorrow! My pulse raced.

School the next day seemed to last a week but eventually the bell rang and I found myself with my heart pounding, butterflies in my stomach, walking fast/ almost running toward the sea front.  I slowed as I got to the shelter and relieved to find a familiar face waiting and smiling. He said he thought I might not show and I told him I'd worked out what he'd mimed. He beamed.

After a jogger paced past, the footsteps fading into the distance and silence returned as I caught my breath at last.
"Did you want to continue?" he asked. I stood up without a word and prepared.  As he walked over to the step to check for anyone coming, I quickly reached under my pinafore and pulled my knickers up tight to my waist before he turned back round.  I took up my position. I told him I needed that middle hand support again. He nodded.
My feet hit the facia with a dull clump. The pinafore fell away. He drew in a breath. He briefly studied my form - now fully revealed by my tighter navy knickers. 

He placed his now trembling hand on my knickered tummy, paused, then rotated it again, moving it upwards back onto my mound.  I didn't move.  He pressed gently.  I didn't say anything.  Pressing again he moved his worn fingers from side to side, then slid a finger down the prominent crease toward my bottom, he reversed the action and repeated it.  A familiar stirring and ache within my legs began.

Suddenly we heard more footsteps and they were close! We just managed to sit back just in time, both of us a little out of breath and not just because of the rapid steps to the bench. After they'd passed, we repeated the performance several times.

"Lets play a game" I suggested after the next interruption as I pulled off my plimsolls; I continued: "I have to go from this side of the shelter to the other using the only the bench and you have to stop me by being in the middle".   He agreed as I leapt up onto the bench where my satchel was placed.

He laid down on the bench, head toward me, feet away from me.  "That's not fair! I complained "You're too long." He replied that I'd just have to try.

I walked in my socks toward him on the bench  and placed my feet both sides of his head.  I glanced down but couldn't see him, obscured by my uniform. I was aware he could see up my navy pinafore. I paused.  I moved my left foot and he held it. "Hey!" I cried as I fell rapidly trying to steady myself.  I found I had fallen so my hands were on his chest with my knees either side of his head. He was able to look up at my crutch less than a foot away.  He held my legs loosely then transferred them to my hips, pulling my pleated part of the uniform off my bottom. He went quiet and I was aware of him trying to lift his head several times toward my rear end.  I eventually started to move, pressing on his fly of his light grey flannel trousers and felt something hard beneath. He held my hips tighter so I paid more attention to that hardness. I felt his labouring breath very close to my crutch. I didn't realise it at the time but a dark line of moisture had formed on my knickers.

I eventually freed myself and stood up at the other end. "I won!"
He retorted: "No you didn't, I caught you!" I told him I'd have to have another go but this time, no cheating, he had to sit up this time. I began... walking towards him as he sat.  He smiled.  I giggled.

I realised I'd have to step past him on the bench sideways, but facing him so he couldn't pull any tricks. I stepped up to him, turned and placed my right foot on his other side. I looked down at his balding head.  He was looking straight ahead into my pleats. I quickly moved and reached the other side. I said that was too easy. he replied I ought to try again.  I was wary but took the same strategy.  I placed my right foot on his other side and looked down at him.  he looked straight ahead again and this time held my hips. I slightly unbalanced and leaned  my hips toward him, my outstretched hands meeting the flaking wall of the shelter.  His face leant forward and met my midriff coming the other way and pressed into my mound underneath, his nose against most my sensitive part. I fidgeted against him and realised the pleats were getting in the way.  I pulled back and he looked disappointed. 

I briefly balanced upright as he looked sad.  I looked non-committal then quickly I pulled my pinafore up high and pushed my hips back toward him dropping the material behind his head. His face sank into the soft nylon, letting out little strained breaths, drinking in my scent, finding it difficult to breathe. His hands moved up to join his head under the pinafore and held my bottom as he moved his head. Something pointed probed my slit. I started to move against him, accidentally stepping on his jacket. more probing from his tongue before I felt his hands travelling up to my waist.  His thumbs gripped my knickers and pulled them down to mid-thigh length. He moved back in closer, his tongue eagerly finding my now naked slit.  I moved my legs wider further apart. My hands still on the cool shelter wall. 

He paused and said he thought he heard something. I said: "It's ok, you can continue being rude - I can see if anyone is approaching from here". I eyed through the gap near the ceiling.  Still under my pinafore pleats, he pulled my knickers off completely and put them in his jacket pocket.

His tongue ran over my mound several times before  probing into my slit which was very wet by then. His tongue ran up and down and I was getting extremely excited.
I gasped: "Keep licking my gonk" (my pet name for that part of me).
"Don't worry, I'll give your gonk my full attention" he replied.

I felt one of his warm, thick fingers being inserted into me, then moving in and out. It thrilled me.  The ache within was becoming unbearable, I couldn't last much longer and worse! I could see through the gap - someone was approaching! I started to push against his tongue and he reciprocated, I rocked faster and faster until my legs buckled; I nearly blanked out with the intense ecstacy and my contractions pulsed seemingly forever. I blurted out "Sumwnsss cmmmn'"

He asked me to repeat and this time I made sense.  I hissed: "SOMEONE'S COMING AND THEY ARE CLOSE!" the footsteps almost upon us.

We collapsed into our respective positions and I quickly pretended to be asleep, still feeling little contractions of pleasure.  He read my schoolbook as his cover.  A stroller slowed, nearly stopping  as he passed, paused and looked  and then walked quickly by. My friend looked shocked.  He realised my plimsolls were scattered over the floor of the shelter along with my blazer which was dusty in a heap and that my navy knickers were just peeping out of his jacket pocket. He tucked them away quickly. I opened my eyes on the all clear.

Eventually, we looked at each other and smiled. After a pause, He said:
"I'm afraid I'm only here for another two weeks on holiday... Would you like to meet again.....for some more rude fun.... perhaps for me to help you with your exercises... to play with your gonk again?"
I bit my lip and kept quiet and his face fell. a minute later I said: OK then!

I leapt up, gathering my satchel and took my book from his hands, I'll meet you next Tuesday I said, giving him a wave and strode off.  It wasn't until I got to the end of the promenade when I realised: He still had my school knickers in his pocket! I wondered why he forgot to give them back as I turned off the seafront and trudged home.

By Julie.

Copyright © 2007 by Julie