Until about eight months after my eighteenth birthday I considered myself a pretty normal woman. I hoped that I was a little prettier, kinder, and slimmer than average, and much more athletic, but those aren't for me to judge. I was fairly comfortable in my own skin and had normal social interactions both with other females and males about my age.
There was no real cataclysmic event that caused me to change my view of myself - and my anatomy. It came about gradually. Perhaps the first defining moment, however was when I was a senior in High School. We still had a physical education requirement. After P. E. one Monday one of my friends in the locker room asked "Cheryl, is there something going on with your pussy?"
"What are you doing looking at my pussy, June?" I laughingly retorted.
"Hey, I couldn't help it - it looks like something at the top?" June shot back without embarrassment.
I looked down; something did appear unusual. I wasn't about to start inspecting my pussy in the locker room, however, so I casually lied, "Oh, I see; it's a scratch. I'll put some ointment on it," and quickly put my flower-patterned blue panties on.
I did look at my pussy in the mirror at home that night. My clitoris seemed to be a little bit larger than the last time I had seen it - which was a while ago since I didn't make a habit of inspecting my clit, although I did play with it on occasion. I touched it. I got a little jolt. It seemed more sensitive than I had remembered it. I decided to play with myself for a while, and was pleased by the very nice orgasm that I got within just a short period of time. I got a good night's sleep.
The next Saturday, five days after my inspection and stimulation of my clit, I went on a biweekly bicycle trip with a club that I belonged to. That day we had planned to go on a thirty mile loop ride over terrain with lots of hills and valleys. For some reason I felt a little uncomfortable when we first started out, although I couldn't identify exactly why. I found out why as I coasted down the first significant hill.
My crotch was being pressed into my seat by the force of gravity as we went down the hill. My clit felt almost like it did when I masturbated. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed - hopefully not out loud although because of the activity at my crotch I couldn't be sure - "I'm getting an orgasm from riding my bicycle." I stood up, relieving the pressure on my clit as I stopped just before a climax.
The same thing occurred each time we went down a hill. Finally, I just started standing up and coasting down all hills, which meant that I ended up in the back of the pack of riders. I made it back to our starting point, although a few minutes further back than I normally was on our bicycle sojourns, but at least I didn't fall off my bike wracked by an orgasm.
I was the last one to leave the parking lot where we had started our little journey. As I sat in my car wondering what the fuck was happening I reached my hand inside my pants and touched my clit. I almost had an instantaneous orgasm. In shock I moved my hand out, thought for a second, made sure that the car doors were locked, and then inserted my hand in my pants again. After four or five finger strokes on my clit I had a full blown orgasm and had to bury my middle finger in my pussy to get some relief.
When I got home after my masturbation orgasm in my car, I did a thorough inspection of my clitoris. It has grown in size and sensitivity from the last time that I had inspected it, and the tip seemed was becoming bifurcated. Halfway through the inspection I ran a finger over it and I almost had a spontaneous orgasm. It took only another thirty seconds of manipulation to get an even more intense orgasm than I had had in the car!
It was shortly after the bicycle trip that my clitoris started interfering with my normal everyday life. It was now summer and I was working to save money for college. My job was as a counselor at a camp; I was primarily the soccer instructor since I had always been good at that sport, including starting for my High School team all four years, and I had a clinical approach to the game.
I started to get periodic "twinges" in my crotch just from normal activity on the soccer field. I found that any movement where either thigh crossed toward the other one - a common position when kicking a soccer ball - caused a significant tingling sensation. While the sensation was pleasant, it was distracting.
One of the male counselors at the camp was a cute guy named Roy from a county near the one I lived in, although the camp was in a different state. I found Roy very personable and attractive. He primarily coached swimming, but like all of the other counselors, including me, had other duties. We often ended up together as dining hall monitors, and the cabin of girls that I chaperoned was right next to the cabin of boys that he was in charge of.
Roy and I had shared many teasing and flirtatious comments over the first three week camp session, and even a couple of pecks on the lips. Having now reached my nineteenth birthday - he was twenty - I was not a virgin but I was very careful and picky and had had only two partners and only had sex with each a couple of times. I had found sex enjoyable, but it was not the Fourth of July fireworks experience that I had heard about. In fact, the masturbation orgasms I had since my clit had started growing and becoming more sensitive were better than those when I fucked. I had not fucked since my clit started changing.
There was a free afternoon, evening, and next morning between three week camp sessions. Roy and I - with the pretext of helping each other get the cabins we were caretakers of ready for the next group of campers - spent most of the free afternoon and all of the free night fucking and sucking. It started with a friendly light kiss in my cabin - but whether fortunate or unfortunate Roy put his thigh between my legs when he gave me the kiss.
The pressure from his leg on my clit drove me nuts; if I wanted to cool it I would have had to push him away immediately. Apparently either consciously or subconsciously I didn't want to because I ground my crotch onto his leg. I climaxed almost instantaneously, groaning into his mouth. At first he thought that there was a problem and he backed away slightly.
"What's wrong Cheryl?"
"Uh, oh...sorry..." I panted. "I, uh, I, uh, just had an orgasm."
Through my glassy eyes I could see the look on his face - it was priceless. Despite my mild protests he quickly had me undressed and lying on my back on the mattress on my bunk.
"Holy shit!" I heard him murmur under his breath.
"Holy shit!" I exclaimed when his tongue touched my clit.
The fucker licked, sucked, and fingered my clit. I went through one intense orgasm after the other. I was almost delirious when I noticed him removing his clothes. His dick was big and hard. His boxers had barely hit the floor when he had that thing buried in me up to the hilt.
My long bifurcated clit rubbed against his cock with each stroke. While I was only partially aware of it, this caused my pc muscles to pulse so that I squeezed his cock with my pussy as he stroked in and out. Also, the intense almost constant orgasms that I was experiencing caused me to writhe around on the mattress like an alligator trying to escape capture. I got the distinct impression that both activities on my part were very pleasurable for Roy because he came after only forty or fifty strokes and filled my pussy with cum.
Even when Roy stopped stroking he pushed his torso up with one arm and used the hand on his free arm to abuse my clit again. This resulted in me wriggling some more which caused him to mutter over and over "Oh fuck yeah!"
When he finally pulled out he panted "Holy shit, Cheryl, that was my best fuck ever - by a mile. Your clit is over-the-top awesome!"
My experience was like a fireworks display, earthquake, and tsunami all at the same time. I could barely articulate a response but I intended to tell him how fantastic it was for me. Actually, words weren't necessary because I was little more than a happy pile of protoplasm by the time that he extricated himself completely, and stopped stimulating my clit, and he could easily tell.
After Roy sucked my tits for a while we could hear noises outside and we were afraid that one of the other counselors would barge in. Roy got dressed and went outside. I could hear him talking with two other counselors, and heard them go to Roy's cabin to do some prep work for the next set of campers. I was still groggy and just covered my naked body with a sheet and took a nap.
I was able to rally about an hour before dinner, did the necessary work on my cabin, and as I was about to leave Roy arrived again. He escorted me to dinner and sat next to me trying to put his hand on my crotch. I gave him the evil eye and slapped his hand and mumbled "Wait until tonight horndog." He got a big smile and kept his hands to himself until we went for a little walk around the lake and then back to my cabin.
The fucking that night was the best of my life up until that time - by far. Roy loved to eat me, and was completely entranced by my large bifurcated clit. I simply could not count the orgasms that I had; the night seemed to be one continuous orgasm until I more passed out than fell asleep after he fucked me for the second time that night.
The next morning I rolled out of bed sore all over. Roy was still asleep. He was a big guy and sharing a twin size bunk with him would have gotten me stiff even if my pussy didn't sting.
I showered in the girls' shower building, one over from my cabin. It was early and no one else was there. I was careful not to touch my pussy, not only because it stung but because I was afraid of stimulating myself again. I did need to scrub quite a lot to get the cum and pussy juice off of my thighs.
I had no sooner turned off the water when I pivoted and saw Roy standing there, naked, with a big grin on his face.
"Roy, you can't be in here," I grumbled, "this is the girl's shower. What if another counselor comes in?"
