Like many girls, pre-sexual awakening, I now with hindsight realise I had been turned on a number of times in my growing years, before I could even identify the deep stirring inside me.
This is something very innocent and natural that occurs, often when you are alone; those feelings of excitement which you feel again as an adult but can put a name to. I now get them when I know I’m about to see The Man and I also know that at some point within an hour or so we will be enjoying each other’s bodies.
I blame my mum for these early fits of excitement – when I was a toddler she would put me on top of the washing machine (it was a top-loader) during the spin cycle. Its buzzing and juddering made me very giddy and probably set me on the road to complete nymphomania
Later on I experienced the same giddiness – rather like you need a wee, but don’t – when I road my bike on the bumpy, potholed, gravely track about half a mile from our house. Having my legs astride the firm leather saddle just intensified this feeling.
When I was a bit older the same feeling came from horse riding – the saddle again, but this time over a warm, pulsating body. The saddle, with its slightly musty leather smell, would gently rub against my crotch, just enough to stimulate the ‘need a wee but don’t’ feeling which I now know was the beginnings of sexual arousal.
Sitting astride various objects – benches, see-saws, bar stools, etc. would often have the same effect, as did going swimming and knowing some boy I liked was going to be there, being in some kind of a vibrating motorised vehicle like a minibus or older car such as a vintage VW Beetle… in fact a whole number of things – not things I experienced every day, but things which often cropped up at weekends and holidays.
At this age, though, I had no idea about sex, I just had a vague idea that people rolled around in silk sheets, kissing with orchestral music in the background, as they did in ‘Dynasty’. It is only now when these same sensations emerge that I realise I was experiencing some form of sexual arousal from as far back as I can remember. I am not sure if this makes me a freak or if this is within everyone.
During a recent toddler swimming lesson I was required to sit astride a noodle (a long cylindrical foam rubber float) with small child and pretend to be bouncing along on a horse. For the entire time I forced myself to sing the ‘Horsey horsey’ song while in my head saying “focus, focus”! I could only relax when the instructor asked us to put the floats back on the side of the pool.
As a child these feelings would eventually fade away by themselves. Now as a woman of thirty-ahem-ahem, there are three options of relief:
a) Growl, bite the carpet, get very annoyed and sulk off to bed
b) Find my buzzing ‘silver bullet’, finish things off properly and hug the pillow
c) Hope it coincides with a visit from The Man – the only satisfying solution to the problem. If only I could order him as and when needed like a takeaway pizza!
Why not try my blog? drunkenslutmum.co.uk