I can tell you I was raised to be a modest and proper girl. That included church every week plus Sunday school. I did well within the public education system and didn’t even skip out on my classes. I never sassed my parents or my teachers. I was on the school track team and played lots of sports, so I was in pretty good shape.

My body really began to change those last couple of years of high school. I developed these curves and bumps. Big bumps that seemed to keep getting bigger. Lots of guys in school seemed determined to become friends with me, but I was shy and managed to sidestep their advances. I wasn’t even slightly interested.

They must have thought I looked okay. I was five-foot-eight with these increasingly large boobs, shoulder-length light-brown hair and honestly, the perfect figure, although I tried to hide it with loose clothes. I heard people say they thought I was really pretty, but I was too insecure to accept that. I did like my piercing, steel-blue eyes, and thought they were my best feature.

I had a few girlfriends, but we weren’t real close. I was really tight with my slightly younger sister Rose, and so far we shared everything. She was the only one I truly felt comfortable talking to.

I got pressured into attending the final senior prom by a really cute fellow graduate. Danny was insistent and said things like, “Please, Katie, be my prom date. You are so pretty, and…” He’d pause and look me up and down, then add, “So fine.”

I finally agreed. He was ecstatic. I went shopping and succeeded in finding a really nice long, tight dress that fit me perfectly. It was sleek, blue and shimmery, and miles away from anything I’d ever worn before.

“It matches your eyes,” Danny said when he picked me up, and he seemed so nervous, but I didn’t realize why at the time.

I guess it looked okay, because when we walked into the auditorium together, I noticed a lot of heads turn our way. I thought maybe I hadn’t packed myself into this tight dress properly and my big, stupid boobs were uneven or something. Plus I was probably wobbling a bit on my death defying stiletto heels.

A couple of my girl classmates came around and told me I looked hot. Strange…I felt comfortable, so I thought they were trying to tell me my face was flushed or something. I was such a dweeb.

I shook hands with my escort, Danny, after the ceremonies and went home. I didn’t actually understand it was supposed to be a real date, so I remained unkissed, un-squeezed and unspoiled. That was me, quiet Katie, loaded with virginity.

That summer after graduating, while anticipating college in the fall, I went to the beach a lot, usually with a girlfriend or two. I had always felt comfortable wearing a bikini, but I was becoming aware of the looks and stares I was getting from the young men there. My body had changed, and they noticed me. I felt something start to stir inside, but I didn’t know what it was. I just knew it was powerful.

I was still living with my parents and after each day in the soothing sun, I’d relax in my room. I’d lay on the bed, close my eyes and think about those guys ogling me, and I realized it made me feel good. There were these new tingling sensations, in my breasts and other places.

I got this urge and began to touch and caress my boobs. They were very sensitive and it felt nice. They had become much bigger than most of the other girls’ I noticed, and so firm I really didn’t need to wear a bra. There was a luxurious feeling of hot pleasure when I thoroughly massaged them.

The guys seemed to really enjoy looking at them, especially when they were barely covered by my bikini top. I would lie in bed and tease and tweak my pink nipples. I could feel their growing stiffness between my thumbs and fingers, and it made me squirm and moan.

Then I started to pretend it was the guys that were touching me. I figured they’d have strong hands, so I squeezed my boobs a little harder.

I could feel the wetness between my legs, and I felt compelled to reach down and explore. I traced my fingers over all of the folds and nuances, then up and down between the lips. I discovered my clitoris. Every time I touched it I nearly had to scream. I loved the way it swelled and throbbed as I played with it. I found out I could make myself orgasm…over and over.

I learned to slip a finger into my vagina, and I was surprised at how hot and wet it felt. I wondered what it would feel like if I could get my finger in deeper.

I didn’t know what a sex toy was, but I happened across an empty but very exotic looking, long and slender beer bottle. I rubbed the tip of it over my nipples and my clit. I pushed it between my wet pussy lips where my finger had felt so good, but it started to hurt.

I dared myself, and I slowly stroked it deeper and deeper until I penetrated myself. It hurt a lot at first, but the pain subsided, and the orgasms! Oh my God! It became my new best friend. I kept it in the top drawer of my bedside night table. It needed to be washed often due to all the orgasmic juice I oozed onto it.

I already shaved a bit because of my bikini bottoms. I decided to shave more. Soon there was no hair left at all. It felt so smooth and much more sensitive. Somehow it was very liberating.