A Very Special Feeling
I had just graduated from high school when the first symptoms of my strange affliction began.
With a whole summer ahead of me to relax and get ready for college, the only thing on my horizon was laying out by the pool and enjoying strolls around the lake with my boyfriend, Bradley, after he got off work from the restaurant.
Really, what more could a girl ask for?
Yet one night, I was plagued by extremely vivid dreams. I don’t remember all the details now, but they had me moaning and thrashing around in bed as powerful images and sensations washed over me. When I woke up, I was completely covered in sweat, and the sheets were a complete mess.
At first, I just chalked it up to the crayfish Bradley had given me for dinner the night before. Sometimes, the restaurant gets a bad batch of seafood, but the thing is, my stomach felt fine. It was the spot between my legs that was the issue. There was a throbbing down there that was both familiar and strange at the same time.
Nonetheless, I tried to ignore it as I gathered up my sheets and took them down to the basement. When I put them into the machine, I noticed there was an odd odor, almost sickeningly sweet and yet also a little musty. I threw in some detergent and pressed the button to get the load started before dashing upstairs as quickly as I could.
“Everything all right, honey?” said my mom after I sat down at the kitchen table.
“Yeah, um, sure,” I said.
“It’s just you look a little pale,” said my mom.
“Oh, I guess I just had a bad dream,” I told her, unable to meet her gaze as a few of the images from the night before popped into my head, wild, savage visions of a naked, muscular man chasing me through the jungle.
“Well, it happens,” said my mother. “A good breakfast and a little sunshine on your face, and you’ll forget all about it.”
“I sure hope so,” I said.
A couple of hours later, I was in the back yard, cutting a few flowers to put in the vase on the kitchen table when the throbbing between my legs started back up.
I did some quick mental calculations to see if maybe it was something to do with my period, but there was none of the usual cramping or feeling bloated. Instead, I just felt really hot and sticky down there, almost like I was sweating.
I brushed it off, but when I happened to glance down, I realized with horror that there was a distinctly wet spot in the front of my crotch.
Luckily, no one was around to see me. I threw down the garden shears and ran into the house and straight up to my room. With my pulse racing, I took off my shorts and examined my panties, terrified that I had somehow pissed myself.
But that wasn’t what it was. Instead, there was a clear, somewhat shiny patch on my underwear, and it had the same odd smell as my sheets.
I changed into a fresh pair of underwear and shorts and then took my soiled clothes down to the basement and threw them in with the sheets.
What in the world was happening to me? Was it some kind of medical issue? Because there wasn’t any pain, and except for the odd throbbing sensation, I felt perfectly normal. It was almost as if my vagina was having some kind of fever, except that didn’t make any sense.
Walking back up to the kitchen, it finally dawned on me what was probably going on. After I got my first period at age 13, there had been times when I had experienced funny new feelings. I’d learned from an educational video that my mom had given me that puberty can unlock a whole range of different sensations inside the female body.
My mom never told me what to do when that happened though, so it took a few midnight experiments before I figured out how to get some relief.
Sometimes I’d lie in bed and squeeze and pull on my breasts, kind of like I was kneading bread. Other times, I’d roll over and put my pillow between my thighs, pretending that I was riding a horse across some vast, grassy meadow.
Either way, after a while I’d feel this tightness build up inside of me, but then it would burst like a bubble popping, causing me to tremble all over for a minute or so, and then I’d feel much better afterward.
Still, those strange new sensations had never really caused me much trouble before. Occasionally, if I saw a cute guy in a movie, or if Bradley told me I looked pretty, or if I got an A+ in chemistry and Mr. Johnson would write “Good job!” underneath it in big red letters, it would get me all giddy for awhile, but then it would go away on its own.
Of course, I knew that boys had it much different. I’d heard horror tales about how they were constantly wracked by bestial urges that would make all of the blood to rush down to below their waist, getting them get super dizzy.
I tried asking Bradley about it one time, but his whole face went beet red.
All he would tell me is that he got a very special feeling every time we held hands or kissed, and that he loved me with all of his heart.
