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Cool Air (xYx)

4002 Words | 0 |0.00

The narrator is completely unaware of H. P. Lovecraft. So, it’s not an intentional allusion on her part. #Nerd

I woke up without any undies, and went to check the drier. It was empty, so all my underwear was still wet in the washer. Not the first time I made that mistake, but at least my night shirt was long enough to cover my sleep shorts. Short shorts, I’d taken a shower before bed, which left my damp hair wrecked, so I had to brush it, and comb out the tangles.

Pretty typical school day bullshit, but I put on a dress, over my top so that I could slip on a pair, fresh from the drier when they got out. Still wet, yeah warm, and wet, but still. I forgot to clean out the lint trap, which was too hot to touch now anyway, so I had to run out to the driveway. In nothing but my dress, top, socks, and shoes (At least I had some clean socks, so I didn’t get blisters, walking around all day at school.)

Again, not the first time it slipped my mind, and I even thought. Why do we wear underpants? I mean girls, obviously boys have enough junk dangling, and rolling around to need the support. Bras, for when you get busty enough to need them, but we got our first cold front, it was windy, and chilly, so when I got in the back seat.

The top of my dress rubbed my nipples through my blouse, hard. “Uh!” I looked around, at my brother, and sister, but just crossed my legs, and instantly regretted wearing This dress, this morning. The problem is, the bib, not unlike bib overalls, had a rolled hem around it. My bra protected them from, when I pulled the shoulder strap across, and the lap belt over my legs, but this time, there was only a thin layer of cotton linen between me, and the rough serged seam around the bib.

“Huh!” Nobody really noticed, thank god, and once my nipples were outside it, they softened in the heat from the dashboard. Mom, just pulled out, put it in Drive, and took us to school. The eldest, I got shotgun, so the little ones could have their car seats, and booster seat in the back, but then we dropped them off at the Elementary, and me at the Middle school. I got out, and my nipples popped immediately when the chilly air hit my legs.

Goose bumps ran up the insides of my thighs, and I even felt my lips purse, like a scrotum? Now, I’m looking around, and giggling at all the kids. 12 year old 7th, and 13 year old 8th graders, with no idea how naked I am under the dress. The baggy blouse, with the bib covering my nipples as long as they aren’t pressed out. Say by the seat belt pushing the bib in between my breasts.

That answers that. Why we wear underwear, at least in winter, spring, and fall, but I rushed into the building. Where they didn’t have the heater on, but at least there wasn’t any wind chill to tickle up under my skirt, between my legs, and my privates melted? That’s what it felt like, even as my nipples thawed, but I never felt so naked, and naughty at school before.

Again, not the first time I forgot to put my laundry in the drier, and woke up with something missing. Not always underwear either, but it had always been warmer. So, I didn’t need the extra layer to keep my nipples from poking out, rubbing the fine fabric, and you’d think that the friction would thaw them, not make them harder, right?

They were starting to get a little raw, so I headed for the restroom, before the line got too long for a stall. Thank god I had a roll of sticky tape, and I remembered that girl. An older girl, probably in high School at least, at the music club. It was an All Ages show, and she wore a leather jacket with the sleeves ripped off. A fishnet top, looped over her thumbs, and black electrical tape over her nipples. Army boots too, but to protect them from the fishnet, she taped (+)(+) signs over her nipples and she even took the zipper out of the inside. To keep the strands from getting caught in it.

I just hoped that invisible tape would work too, and it did. Sure enough, my blouse just slipped smoothly over it, and I’d fixed the problem, before they got rubbed raw.

The rest of the day was fairly normal. I forgot that I wasn’t wearing underwear (Other than a couple strips of clear tape over each nipple) just like I forget that I’m wearing undies once it warms up to my body. Even after school, the sun had warmed it up, to the 70s, so I didn’t have to worry about the chill.

Just the wind, blowing up my skirt, but not enough for one of those Monroe moments. It just reminded me that I wasn’t wearing any panties, but. You know, you just don’t manspread in a dress. Maybe in pants, shorts, or overalls, but I kept my knees together, or crossed, normally. So, anybody trying to look up my dress won’t see my underwear, let alone my bare pubes curling between my legs, and twitching a little when the wind caught them.

“Huh, what?”

“Irrational numbers, they’re even worse then repeating decimals, because they go on and on forever without repeating. So, how are you supposed to solve them, when there’s always some random remainder left over?”

“Uh, just estimate. I just wait until there’s a 1, 2, or 3, and round that down. A 7, 8, or 9 to round up.”

“Oh, what if it’s a 4, 5, or 6?”

“Then, you just go onto the next number, until it’s close enough to round off, or round it off to 5.”

“Oh, smart.” She was still just starting 8th Grade math, while I skipped ahead last year, so they hadn’t gotten to Estimation yet. Which is kinda backwards, wouldn’t it make more sense to teach Estimation, then Repeating Decimals, and converting fractions into Irrational Numbers?

“There’s your mom.” Since we’re closer to her work, she picked me up first, on the way to the elementary, and then home.

“Huh!” Even being careful, with the seat belt, over my bib, and between my braless breasts, I could still feel the think heavy hem through the double layer of tape, and my blouse, and blushed with shame.

It wasn’t just shame, though. It kept going down my neck, I got hot under the collar, and reached out to turn off the heater, which wasn’t on. In fact, the knob was turned around into the cool, but not cool enough, or low enough to blow up under my dress.

“How was school?”

“Oh, you know, all right?”

“Did you maybe see a boy, you’re thinking about?”

“What? No, mom.” She’s not like, one of those nosy moms, or super-talkative girls that can’t stand silence, and have to ask empty questions like how was school every day. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you’re a teenager now, and.” She sniffed, “Maybe a little hot under the collar?”

“Oh,” I pulled down the sun visor, and checked under my hair, in the makeup mirror. “Hah, no. It’s just this weather, and you know how hard it is to dress warmly enough in the morning, but not so warm that you’re not sweaty at the end of the day, especially when it gets as hot as this?”

She switched the display to temperature, “72?” Then back to MPG. “Ha.” She laughed it off, “My mistake,” and let it go. Without probing any more deeply into my privates. Privacy, I mean.

“Huh!” At least we pulled up to the school, and mom got out, to go to the office. Get Jack, and Jill (Not their real names) leaving me in the car.

I spread my legs, to sniff, and find out that it is, actually that noticeable. Unable to roll down the windows, without the keys in the car, I got out. Left the door open, and opened up the back, to let the wind blow the air out.

“EIIIIH!” I think, that was a girl squealing on the playground. Like a scream, bent over like that, to pull out the straps, and drape them over the sides. Kneeing in the booster seat, I held the back of my dress over my bare butt, and backed out.

Something mom said, before she dropped it, came to mind. I wasn’t even thinking about boys, all day. To get so horny, and I was actually glad for the gust drying my crotch, before it started dripping down my legs.

I hadn’t ever even thought about playing with myself, before I got horny. The first time in my life, I felt sexy enough to. Well, I guess the difference is, I didn’t need anybody to notice, how naked I was underneath my clothes. Nothing but clear plastic tape over my nipples, it was enough that I knew.

I felt so naked, with every gust up my skirt. Getting back in, I held my nipples, with my arm in the bib, pulling the shoulder strap back over, then slipped my arm out. Then, I crossed my legs, and closed the door, with the back door open, so mom could get my little brother, and sister inside.

I practiced scissoring, which didn’t work. I heard about that, rubbing your thighs together, to masturbate without using your hands, but that just made me hornier. It didn’t give me any pleasure, let alone satisfaction, so I stopped.

As soon as we got home, I ran straight for the laundry room, to dig some undies out of the drier, and put them on. Threw the rest in my basket, so by the time I got back to my room. Jillian already had her work book out, on her bed, with her feet up, waving in the air, and her little bottom sticking up through the wrinkled seat of her pants. No pantyline showing, but.

“Oh, what’s Gist mean?”

“Just a sec, I’ll be right back.” I took a bra with me to the bathroom, and unbuttoned my blouse. With my hands in my bib, I slipped the straps off my shoulders to take it off, then I looked up in the mirror. At my breasts, my nipples still mashed flat under the tape, which had stay put all day, somehow.

Even with the edges pinked by being cut off my the dispensor, which just made it easy to pick them off. Peel it carefully off of the next layer. “Whew!” That didn’t hurt, of course. I had another strip of tape, the other way so I had to pick out the top from the inside, and peel them out. “Huh!” It hurt, but then they snapped back, and the tape let go on the ends, so they fell, and jiggled. “Nhm!” I bit my lip, then licked it to make it wet. My fingertips to rub them, hard, and incredibly sensitive, but not raw yet.

“Huh!” I slipped my bra straps on, and hold them together in back to hook them. Picked up the cups, and squeezed to let them slip into place, but with my nipples hard, and sensitive, and damp from playing with them. “Nymh!”

I just pulled my bib up by the straps, and crossed my blouse like a robe, which was good enough to get back to my room.

“Gist?”

“I looked it up,” She pulled the dictionary over, and ran her finger down the inside of the page. Read: “One: The substance, or essence of a text, or 2: The real point of any action.” She shook her head. “But that’s like the opposite of what people really mean when they say they get the gist of something, isn’t it?”

“Not really.” I sat down to help her with her 5th grade Vocabulary, which helped take my mind off of my horniness, just like my classwork did in school. So, it went away, at least until after dinner, when we had to get ready for bed.

Which ment taking my clothes off, in front of my sister, which should have been, well. Honestly, it was just normal. “Huh!” I was expecting it to feel like, something different, but I guess spending 8 years in the same room, after she left the nursery, potty training, and helping to change her diapers, it’s just normal nudity.

She didn’t even look, and I barely noticed that she hadn’t started developing, any of the signs that she was going into puberty. I didn’t even get my period until I was eleven, and I guess it was a couple years, give or take. After that, before I became so intensely aware of my body, and it’s capacity for horniness, but after I got my bra off.

Thank got the sticky glue, on the Scotch tape didn’t leave any on my skin, when all i did was give them a little cat bath, or the spit dissolved it, I’m not actually sure. Regardless, they didn’t stick to the inside of my bra, but then I pulled a night shirt on, fresh, and clean from the basket, and my nipples popped out as soon as the cotton touched them.

“Huh!” I hit the light switch. “Good night.” Went to bed, without even picking a pair of shorts, let alone undies to wear under the covers. Again, what’s the point?

“Goodnight.” She rustled her covers, and pillow stuffing it up under her neck the way she does. Closing her eyes, and I just thought about, everything that happened today. Because I decided to go to school, without any underwear, and the wind blew against the window, sill? I think, it’s not loud, at all, but I can still hear it rushing along the wall, and maybe the window just doesn’t hold the sound back as well.

I don’t know, but that just reminded me of the cool tickle up under my skirt. I pulled the blankets up, so my toes peeked out, and then my feet. Pulling it up over my knees, so I could spread them, and puff the blanket up, with a gush of fresh air right up between my legs.

“Huh!” There was the prickle of goose bumps, trying to stand my hairs on end, but I’d shaved my legs, just last night. Stopped at the top, where it’s tricky to get the curls without catching the loose folds, but I slipped my teeshirt up.

‘snhhhhh,’ My sister breathed in, deeply though her nose, sleeping with her mouth closed, but my sexy odor was already starting to escape from under the covers. Between my legs, and I’m starting to discover that it’s not about, anyone seeing me. Naked, or even smelling my feminine musk.

I puled the covers up over my face, to take long deep breaths through my nose, and felt down my shirt from my shoulders. Over my breasts, and slipping the warm cotton over my hot erect nipples. “Huhhhh, snhhhh!”

‘hhhhh, snhhh’ …

Maybe if I breathe along with her, it’ll be like sneaking up behind someone. Watching their feet, so their footsteps drown out your footsteps, because they’re closer, they’re louder, and her breathing in her own head downs out my own breathing under the covers, muggy, and fragrant with sex.

What it’s really about is my body, feeling sexy, and smelling sexy, not even looking sexy, but I have to admit. My nipples, flattening in the mirror by magic invisible tape, and also my little A cups. Round little a cups spreading out by their own little weight, with each breath, pulling my shirt out, to gently brush my nipples with each breath, so my hands can explore down farther.

It’s not just my nipples of course, that get more sensitive, when I’m feeling this sexy. But my pubes, really? “Ah, oh!” I blinked, and “Snhhh!” Took a deep breath, so I didn’t moan. Just from running my fingertips through the neat curls, and scratching the spongey. “Ngh huh!” I can’t even hold my breath, but it feels “Oh,” so good! “Snhhhh!”

“Snh?” My sister rolled over, so I stopped. Listening for her breath to settle down again, but quieter, I almost want to giggle, but that’s, a big part of it? Maybe even the most important part, I’m finding that getting away with it.

Nobody seeing me naked, or my bare privates under my skirt. My nipples poking out through my top, or the tape pulled tight to make them flat. I got away with it all day, and even mom.

No, mom knew right away, why my neck was so red. “Snh!” She could smell it, I was stinking up the whole car, and bouncing my knees, so the blankets fan fresh air under there, like my skirt, I felt down to the.

Barely damp wrinkles, and folds. I must have imagined it, earlier when I got out, and the breeze dried me out, that it was just about to start dripping, and running down my legs, but covering it up with my fingers. I just felt back up to scratch my pubes, and pump my knees to fan air in and out. Tickling my legs with puffs of fresh air, and my clitoris.

Where did I read that? When did I even look up masturbation techniques on the internet? I remember dirty giggles, and not just my own, it must have been one of my friends, showing us on her phone. A pink one, with the edge of the pink plastic backing, curled around the screen, and just words. No dirty pictures to give us away, as if the dirty little giggles want’s a big clue, but.

[The clitoris may be too sensitive for direct stimulation. Especially when under developed, the nerve endings may be too densely packed. So, indirect simulation, such as rubbing the inner labia, or pinching them in the outer labia. Careful not to apply direct pressure on the clitoris itself.]

“Huh!” I remember all that, when I can’t even remember who’s phone I read it on, nor who all was crowded around, and giggling while we read it. What corner of where we were crowded in, any of the sounds, or smells around us, what I was wearing, or anything.

And who the hell has masturbation instruction for little girls online? [How to play with yourself: A guide for little girls.] Isn’t that the sort of thing a child molester would read, to get tips on how to molest little girls so they like it, and come back for more?

“Oh yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Sorry, uh. Am I keeping you awake?”

“No, not really but what time is is?”

The clock ticked, on the nightstand, like a telltale heart. So, long enough for the glowy numbers, and hands to fade out in the dark.

“I don’t know, go back to sleep.” I kicked the blanket back down, and crossed my legs, but without anything on under there. I had to tuck the blanket between my legs so my thighs didn’t stick together and sweat.

She rolled over too, but the last thing I remember, reading. I always remember words, better than anything, and my English teachers always gave me great grades on reading comprehension. Description, and vocabulary of course, but I can’t even draw a decent stick figure, because I’m not very visual, I guess.

Oh yeah [The clitoris… What we think of as the clitoris is the tip of the ice-berg, so to speak.] There was a picture of it, in red, fanning out over the pubic bone, but without any skin, let alone hair to get in the way. [The full clitoral structure extends up the pubic bone, and is known by several terms, such as Pubis Mons, or Mons Veneris.]

“Huh!” Before I went much further, I forget, what all I thought about, but then I woke up, hot, and thought that I’d actually wet the blanket, with pee. “Huh?”

That wasn’t pee. “Snh?” I sniffed my fingers, and closed my eyes. “Snhhhh!” Soaked right through the sheet, that I’d tucked in. between my legs, crossed, and that didn’t really answer my question earlier. About how long it takes to get that wet. Sopping wet, but I was curious enough about how it tastes to lick my fingers, before I realized just how.

Well, I suppose homosexual isn’t quite right. If homo means the same, what exactly is the term for sexualizing yourself? Monosexual? No wait, that means a sexual preference for 1, like. Mono. Gamy? That means one women, right? No wait, that might be monogyne.

Gynecologist, gynesexual? Gynephilic? Of course, they don’t teach 8th grade Latin, and who actually cares, why do I even care what you call it, but now, I just feel. Sticky, slimy, and gross. Not quite as gross as when I get bloody, it’s not bloody, or womby? With blobs, and chunks of rotten placenta…

Sexy! “Huh!” I just threw the covers back, and got up. I skipped the shower last night, and felt for my glasses, before I decided it was just stupid to put them on in the dark. I can feel my way to the door in the dark, and then the hall light is enough to get into the bathroom.

“Uh!” Squint in the light, until my eyes are used to it enough to take off my shirt, and look up.

Smile, shyly in the mirror, and blush. Narcissistic? Wasn’t narcissist the one that fell in love with his own reflection, and drowned, or was that Echo? I guess she fell in love with her own voice, god I haven’t read those mythology stories in so long, I get them all mixed up, but.

Maybe it’s just practice, for a boy. “Huh!” Looking down to look back up again, shyly. I think the whole reason why I couldn’t scissor in the car earlier is my legs don’t come together all the way at the top. Even squeezing them tight, there’s still a little gap between them, so my lips still pout, out in the open.

Whoever the first boy is, I get naked for, and looking up, in his eyes. Smiling shyly, and blushing, but that’s not. Shame, or embarrassment. “Hm, you like them? I know they’re not very big yet, but they are nice and perky. Warm, and round with rock hard nipples, uh!” I let them slip out, of my fingertips, slowly so I can feel my prints before they snap back. “Huh!”

I better wash out these stale sex juices, they don’t smell quite as good as when they get fresh, now that I know exactly how to get the juices flowing, but I kinda wonder what he’ll look like. Whoever he is, and what do I want him to look like?

Not a boy, a man. “Huh, yeah. Let me see your big hard prick. Huh, I know it must be hard from looking at me like that, so long. Teasing you, and I’m sorry I teased you for so long, and hard, and, huhHhuhH!”

Just the hot water running down my back, over my shoulders, and dripping off my nipples. Running down my tummy, and catching it in my hands to flow under my crotch. Pulling the hairs so they tickle my lips, and my hard hip bones.

Kinda bother me, really, but I can’t ignore them digging into my arms, and if I pull them out, and the water just splashes all over the bottom of the tub, but I must be clean enough to get out. Dry off, and go back to bed to get hot, and wet, and dirty all over again, but I’m drawing a blank on how that man will look.

I just suck at visualizing stuff like that, but I know exactly how I want him to look at me, naked.

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