Sinna meets Sinna

It was a beautiful sunny day in late April. The birds were chirping happily and a flair of creativity lingered around the streets. I was feeling hungry, but I didn’t want to stay at home. I wanted to enjoy nature and some good, traditional food.

So I left the house, walked barefoot across the warm streets to a food truck just at the edge of a large park with a small lake and beautiful, yet artificially created, landscape. I ordered a light meal with a delicious sauce and a bottle of water. It was ice cold water and the guys at the truck only had big 2 liter bottles left.

A bottle was cheap at $2, so I bought one despite it being too much for me to drink. With that bottle and a full stomach, I realized that I was actually well prepared to take a walk in the park, maybe even find a quiet spot to rest a little.

After walking around the little lake, I left the artificial pathways and went to a large tree further away. Thinking back, it was in the middle of nowhere really. I sat down against the tree on the sunny side – it would have been too cold to sit in the shadow and I wanted to charge up on some sun-energy anyway.

While I sat there, watching the surrounding, observing some ducks and pigeons, I dozed off a little. I didn’t fully fall asleep – at least I think so – but I was a little numbed from the food intake. That’s when I heard myself talking to me.

I know it sounds strange, but it was definitely my voice. It wasn’t just IN my head, like usual thinking. It was somehow coming from the outside. You know, when you are thinking, or talking to yourself in your head, you KNOW that it’s you. But this felt like it wasn’t me. It was someone else, but with my voice and, well, since there was no one around it must have been me. Somehow. Right?

This voice started to tease me a little. It said “Sinna, why are we so boring?”. I didn’t “reply” at first – I mean, HOW do you reply to someone who is you, but who doesn’t feel like you and, you know – I was a little confused.

Then my hand moved. I swear, my right hand, which had rested on the neck of the water bottle, which was standing between my legs, gently grabbed the bottle and pushed it against my crotch. I wore some light leggings and normal cotton panties underneath, so I felt the bottle against my… you know. Against my… self. My.. womanhood.

The hand moved so diligently that I didn’t stop it. It’s like someone pulling at a blanket that you sleep on. If they pull gently enough, you won’t wake up, right? You’ll just roll over and let it happen.

This.. I don’t know. This other me was pulling at my inner blanket so to speak. It was cautiously manipulating my body so that I wouldn’t “wake up” and resist.

The hand – excuse me, MY hand, was sliding that cold water bottle softly up and down my crotch. Actually, if I had been naked, it would have slid just between my lips. It was right at that perfect spot – obviously, my other me knew how to handle myself.

The water bottle had been so cold when I bought it that water had condensed on the surface of the plastic. By having the bottle touch up – I wouldn’t say grinding, but it was a firm touch – against my leggings, the water soaked into the fabric. My hand turned the bottle so that all the water from the whole circumference would stroke off into my crotch. It did that in such a slow manner, that my .. you know.. lips .. were gently pushed to the side, revealing just a micro part of my clitoris. That very sensitive part that I had barely “used” in my non-existent and boring self-sexual life. I had merely discovered it once, by accident, a few years ago and never got it out to play ever since. Back then it didn’t really feel good when I touched it. It was just TOO sensitive and hurt a little.

The exposed micro part of my clitoris was just brushed against lightly by that bottle, cushioned by those two layers of clothes I wore and, I admit, quite a bit of hair that I had growing wildly there. It didn’t cross my mind back then to do anything about all that hair. No one ever saw that place anyway, so why bother?

When that touch started, it didn’t feel awkward. In fact, it felt.. like spring. I don’t know. I could feel the smell of delicious food, I could feel the birds chirping, I could feel this amazing sensation that I had never felt before.

And it was just starting. With the continuous turning of the bottle, the feeling was getting better. Yes, even better than it already was. The cold from the bottle and the wetness .. from the water I guess.. added to that unique sensation. I didn’t know what was going on, but my hand continued to turn the bottle and push it gently into my crotch and it all just felt smooth.

Then my heart started pounding heavily.. like… in my throat! I felt like there was an alien trying to deliver itself from my chest.. I started sweating heavily.. I heard myself breathe. It seemed as if a storm rushed through my airways, over and over. My head felt light, I saw some white spots in the surrounding nature, as if I had stared into the sun for too long.

I was not afraid. Instead, I felt relaxed. A thunderstorm is rocking your body, but you feel more and more relaxed. Is that normal? I guess it’s as normal as having someone talking to you and touch yourself with yourself – and that someone be you.

I got so relaxed that I thought I’d pass out any second, but instead, all of a sudden, a shock of PURE ENERGY electrified my body. As if a nuclear reactor had had a catastrophic meltdown, concentrated into the size of a grain of rice – my clitoris.
Instead of exploding, the enormous amount of energy was diverted into the most amazing fibre network in the world. The only network that could take a hit from such a devastating nuclear reaction without getting destroyed. The system would “merely” overclock and get out of control – my nervous system, charged into every last cell of my body.
The control room – my brain – would get seriously hit and shaken, it would become unstable for a while, but it wouldn’t break.

The energy had to be discharged somehow though, so my body was shaking as if I had a serious epileptic shock. I bit my lip and tongue, blood and saliva ran down my chin as I helplessly wet myself with a powerful urine stream that must have shredded my panty and leggings. Like a huge earthquake had hit my body with the epicenter in my bladder. An eruption and relief that I had never felt before. I was but a witness from the inside, as I couldn’t do anything than feel.

Everything had been out of control, so my body shut down as a safety precaution. At least that’s how I would explain my very first orgasm today.
I just wasn’t prepared for it, neither was my mind, my body and whatever was moving my hand that had established itself inside my world of thoughts – and manifested in motor activity that had led to this amazing total meltdown.

Then everything turned black and the chirping bird noises faded… I had “suffered” a knockout orgasm.

I woke up. I felt cold and warm at the same time, the sun was grazing my skin… when I heard keys getting dropped. What?

I opened my eyes. I was in a flat! Shit. I wanted to jump up and hide but then I noticed that I felt so light underneath this brown blanket that was covering me half-way. I took a quick peak – and was not wearing anything below the waist..

What was going on?! I pushed the blanket down from the outside with a hand resting on top of my crotch – just to be sure – and sat up, expecting whoever just returned home to whatever place I was in. Was I a hostage? Did someone.. sexually assault.. oh no. I wanted to start crying.. okay, I’ll be honest. I started crying. I did sit straight up though. I braced myself as well as I could.

Then I heard steps come closer. The door opened and…

The End
written by Sinna 24mar-2016
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