After the dances, when she was home and in bed, she had touched herself with her hands and fingers, and she had even probed into her moistly excited pussy to relieve the terrible itch. Afterwards, after she had achieved her puny little orgasm, she would always feel guilty, as she had been taught to believe sex was horribly wrong and dirty. But that afternoon, lying nakedly there in the park in the warm sun, she again wanted to fondle her body, and she was convinced the pleasures it would bring her were right and deserved. It was the setting: the scent, touch, feel and sounds of nature all around her, that made her more aware of her sexuality… and anything she might do to herself could be only good.

The palms of her hands were warm as she placed them against her curving hips, and she drew them up along the narrow dip of her waist, languishing in the sensual feel of her own naked flesh. Reaching the full, raised mounds of her breasts, she cupped her hands over the tips; the brownish-pink buds of her erect little nipples were already hard and sensitive. She pinched them between thumbs and forefingers, thrilling in the contact as the wanton heat in her groin seemed to rage out of control. Her long legs were spread slightly apart, and she raised them up and out wider. The thought that she was so open and nakedly exposed to the earth made her arousal heighten to an overpowering sense of urgency, and she released her hold of her budding right breast, running her hand down over the smooth flat plane of her belly until her fingertips touched the wispy beginnings of her pubic hairs. The lips of her hungry young vagina moistly flared with the nearness of her fingers as the heat of her loins surpassed that from the sun. Her overly sensitive little clitoris throbbed a tingling message to her brain: Touch me, pinch me, please!