Knitted Acrylic Pt. 02 : Shared Shivers

This piece contains reflections on early experiences of curiosity, intimacy, and identity. It is told through the lens of adult memory and explores formative moments with care and honesty.

I hesitate in the conversation with my friend over coffee.

'Just like babies,' she says, laughing, 'as they squeeze a cloth nappy between their legs.' She's a lot older. Old enough to remember cloth nappies.

She laughs again. I don't.

Fuck.

Does that mean my sexuality never evolved beyond infancy?

I've traced my fingers over my swollen clit dozens of times. Stuffed fingers into my wet canal, trying to map my sensations, reactions, the bumpy groove deep in my vag.

And I feel like I'm brushing my teeth.

Just--nothing.

If I can feel the sensation from both ends, it cancels itself out. There has to be something not connected to my nervous system down there in order for me to feel pleasure.

Is there something broken in me?

And I was too chicken for ages to buy a toy. Didn't know where to go. Was too ashamed to even think about it. No courage to adventure. No thrill at the thought--just dread.

All I had was my imagination.

Books from the library.

And my knitted acrylic blanket.

And then something magical happened when I was a little older.

It's hazy now, soft around the edges--but I remember the moment I got bold enough to ask a friend. Not for sex, still had no clue about that. Not even for help, exactly.

Just... to talk.

Because she was ten years younger than her siblings. So she was wiser than me in all things.

I slumbered at her house, yet again. Sixth time before I finally muster up my courage. Trying to act casual, but how the fuck to you ask that casually?

'Do you... do things with yourself down there?' I stammer awkwardly, feeling like a fool. Picturing her frog marching me out of the front door as I'm forever banned from her home in humiliation.

But she didn't laugh.

Didn't blink.

'Yeah. Wanna do it together?'

Just like that. No preamble. Like we were planning our next bike ride. Or watch a movie.

Not...

That.

And I'm ashamed to say, I completely froze. Not because I didn't want to. Not even because I was scared of her.

But because I didn't know what to do with someone else. Or what to do with her yes.

I was ready for her horror. Her disgust. Her laughter.

Instead, she licked her finger and already trailed it down her stomach.

'Wait,' I stutter, shifting in her bed. So fucking horny already, but even more terrified. 'What do you do? What do you know?'

She huffs, rolling over, abandoning her original plan, thank gods. 'Don't you know about sex?'

I know how boy bunnies chase girl bunnies and hump like hummingbirds in flight, then she sheds her fur into the nest and has her babies. I know about buying baby chicks and popping them under unsuspecting nesting hens in the middle of the night.

But humans?

'I know where babies come from.' I say defensively. But then shame burns through me to truth. 'But what happens before that? What's it like?'

I'd worked that pin in blue butt moment so threadbare, it'd lost all meaning. I needed something more.

I knew there was something more.

And maybe here was a source.

She smirks. 'Your boobs are gonna get huge.'

Then she vanishes into the hallway. I hear drawers opening, the thud of something heavy sliding off a shelf in her big sister's room.

She comes back welding a bra before her like a Valkyrie shield. (I know, I'd seen The Ring Opera with my parents earlier that year.)

But each of our heads would fill those cups. I know. We tried.

We wore the domed twin hat, giggling under the underwire. Then she got serious again.

'You're gonna need one of these soon,' she says so factually.

I don't want a vague some day. I want knowledge, now.

'What does sex feel like?' I whisper through the lacy face mask, smelling the slight odour of her sister's sweat.

She smirks, and marches out of her room again. Thumps and bumps, then she comes back with a book held like the sacred spell book of the wizard in Fantasia.

Like we're the apprentice about to bring a thousand brooms alive.

She opens a page. Fuck. Literally. I rip the book from her hands, sucked in.

Step-by-step pictures of real humans.

How does that massive pole fit inside me like that? Suddenly, I want to know. Measure, calculate, numerate.

My heart hammers, breath caught somewhere between awe and shame.

New phrases float up:

Blow job (page 9), intercourse (page 12), fingering (page 3).

Before you know it, we have her Barbie and Ken doll stripped down to their nobless bumps, working them into strange, mysterious poses.

Imagining his outie going into her innie.

Turns out I have a fucking fabulous imagination.

And by now, I'm slick as snot. Worked up and frustrated until I ache between my legs. My sacred place begs for a session with Blanket. And I don't fucking dare embarrass myself like that in front of my Wise friend.

Until she meets my gaze. 'I wanna play with myself.'

She smiles, 'Wanna touch me down there?

My mouth goes dry.

She grins. 'Why don't we touch each other. Together.'

My knees become weak.

She beams. I totally chicken-shit out.

Like prissy, scared, frozen little girl fear. 'I... I'm not comfortable.'

She works her hand down below the covers, her arm begins to quiver and shake. 'Wanna play with my boobs instead?'

That, I can do.

I ignore my throbbing groin, begging for release, touch, anything. And instead, I cup her budding breasts in my hand. Tease her tiny pert nipples as she jacks herself to an envious climax.

I nearly cry with frustration, jealous as her body relaxes, the glorious, lazy smile that grows on her lips.

After a long moment of relaxation, she turns to her side. 'It's your turn. Do what you need to. I'll play with your boobs now.'

I swallow hard, heart pounding in my throat. My mound throbs harder, calling to me, begging.

'I need to lay on my stomach.' I whisper, my voice cracking.

She giggles, reaching her hand out. 'Then lay on my hand.'

Oh my gods.

I roll over, shove my acrylic blanket between my legs. Wad the smaller knob hard into my wet folds. No time for the knotted corner. No time for any niceties.

I lay on her open hand, half coming just from that fact--I'm doing this in front of someone else for the first time.

I start humping, pushing so hard I feel the rawness build. The sting of small tears as I saw my clit over the rough knitted texture.

Heat builds fast, too fast as I grunt and moan. Her fingers flex under my chest, distracting me. Inflaming my hormones. Adding to the build knowing she watches me.

I lean back, trying to give her hand more room as she pinches my nipple. Rearing up hard, pinning my blanket under my flesh.

I grind and push.

Building tension binds my muscles as I feel it coming.

I hold my breath and focus on the thrusts. Pain flashes as I tear into the scratchy fabric. Lights begin to flash at the edges of my vision.

I vaguely register her arms wrapping around me as she strokes my butt.

Oh fuck!

My lips go numb as weird sounds play in my ears. Sounds that don't exist and then I explode.

Heat races from my groin throughout my body as I heave and hump my blanket. I press my face into my pillow, moaning out my climax.

It feels so good.

I collapse, spent. It happened so quickly. Too quick.

She pulls my blanket out from under me.

I hold onto it with a death grip, not ready to relinquish my post-orgasm ritual.

I cling to my blanket, burying my face into the fabric. The wet, scratchy fabric tickles my face as I inhale.

Then... it's gone.

I feel so empty without it pressed against my chest.

She feels, sniffs, imitates me inhaling. She meets my gaze, serious. 'I want to try this. What do you do?'

A new horizon opens before me all at once.

I no longer need to do this alone.

I hold up a corner, tying it into a big knot. I then work it with pressure, making it smaller. 'You need to shove this down there. Up your... you know.'

Her eyes light up. She hops up again, racing into the bathroom. After a few drawers slam, she brings back a bobby pin. 'Try this. Same thing.'

We swap ideas. We exchange techniques.

But I still need Blanket, I'm wired that way. So we share. My first threesome with a girlfriend and my Blanket lover.

Just the thought gets my engine worked up again.

I thread the bobby pin through the yarn, turning it over so it sticks up. She remains on her back as she presses and grunts. 'It's rough.'

I chuckle. 'That's the best part. Make sure it rubs against that top part.'

I have no clue what these parts of my lady bits are yet. Just what feels good.

She smiles. 'Rub that all over in the hole.'

I pull the thin corner of the scant blanket between my legs, laying on my front again. Certainly the tiny amount of blanket won't be enough, jealous as she begins to buck her hips onto my lover. Still on her back. How can that even feel good? Seriously not enough pressure.

Slowly, I ease the bobby pin in between my legs. Teasing it into the hole I'm sure it won't fit.

Oh my gods. Fucking amazing.

I tug on my tiny corner of the blanket and it tilts the little stiff rod inside me. Tingles of electricity shoot up my back.

What the fuck?

I rock my hips forward until the metal kisses the flesh inside--

So soft, so gentle, but so stiff when it presses hard deep inside me.

I groan.

Hunger builds within me, the need to feel that thing shift inside. I begin to rock and tug the corner of my blanket with speed, flailing the bobby pin within the depth of my slick hole.

She shifts. 'You're pulling the blanket away.'

She turns to lean against me, pressing my blanket against my butt. She grabs onto me, humping my blanket, humping me. Pushing me further around, forcing that metal to slide on its own.

I close my eyes, surrendering to the rhythm she sets.

Her hips buck against me, gilding, pushing, pulling--a pulse beyond my own control.

I imagine the photos of the lady licking his penis.

I imagine the picture of his penis shaft sticking out of her hole.

I feel the metal rod riding mine.

The need takes over.

This.

This is what's been missing.

This is what that pin meant sinking into the blue fleshed creature.

With renewed wisdom, I hump and buck, pulling my small corner of blanket hard to saw it over my clit. Pulling the bobby pin so hard it pokes into my hole, reminding me what's in control.

Sweaty, needy, I feel the tension build again. The heat of her breath on my neck pushes me over. I call out into my pillow as the orgasm steals over my body--hard, thick, fast.

Harder than I've ever felt before. My muscles contract, pulsing with pain and pleasure as my hips jolt.

She comes after me, almost riding my thigh, pressing blanket deep into her, against her. She grunts and lays her head on my shoulder as she pushes. Then she slumps next to me, both of us struggling to breath.

But I can't resist the urge.

I whip blanket out from our arms, lamenting the feel of the metal rod leaving my hole. I shift it until I find her wet spot. Bury my face deep and inhale.

It's different to me. Stronger, tangy yet sweet. She leans in next to me and inhales, wrapping her arms around me.

We fall asleep together, cuddling my blanket between us.

A start to a beautiful friendship filled with unconditional exploration.

It got me thinking seriously about boys for the first time too. Not just the abstract idea of them, but the part of them that fits the part of me. Something I can maybe do something with--if I ever get brave enough.

But for now, she's safe.

But the seed was planted that night.