AUTHOUR'S NOTE: 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
  Congratulations on downloading my contribution to the Amateur Erotica
Contest for BBS'rs!  The following essay on pleasure was inspired by a
file called Amanda.txt that has made the rounds at most bbs's.  I have
always enjoyed creative writing, but this is the first time I have ever
had the nerve to let someone else view my attempts at erotica (doing it
anonymously helped!).  I would appreciate hearing your comments on my
effort.  Oh yes, I'm sure you are all wondering - I am really a female
bbs'er (we do exist, really), and this essay is based heavily on
personal experiences.  Enjoy... 

                              Yours sincerely, 
                              Lisa Bonet



  Masturbating your lady (the right way) can drive her wild - and save
the night when Mr Meat nods out early!

  Have you ever had this fantasy?  You're in a tavern or a disco, and
you see this gorgeous chick sitting up by the bar, alone.  She's wearing
one of those slit skirts that have become popular lately, and she's
flashing a long length of smooth, tanned thigh in your direction.  It's
dark and smoky in the bar, and the music is loud and throbbing, so no
one notices as you sidle up to her and gently slide your hand through
the slit.  She gives you a cool look, but opens her legs invitingly.
Your fingers do the walking, and as you lean over her, smiling in
apparent conversation, your finger-tips touch the edge of her panties.
You feel a wetness there and she opens her mouth with a slight gasp.
She inches her head towards you, looks up at you with wide eyes, and
whispers, "Get me off - now.  Right here!"

  You push aside the narrow band of fabric and find her clit with your
middle finger.  It jumps at your touch, and she reaches a hand up to
your shoulder and clutches it fiercely.  Beneath the clit, her cunt is
sopping with anticipation; one finger slides in easily, and she arches
up her torso to invite deeper penetration.  Two fingers go in, and the
knuckle of your thumb acts as a constantly moving pivot on her clit as
she bites at your fingers with her pussy muscles.  Her whole body is
vibrating now, and she jams the fingers of her other hand between her
teeth to stop herself from screaming.  Then she comes, mating her mouth
to your in a long and passionate kiss and drenching your fingers with
cunt juice.  You slowly withdraw your hand from under her skirt.  She
reaches for it tenderly, lifts it to her lips and delicately nibbles at
the fingertips, tasting her own fluids.

  A fantasy?  Not for me.  It's a game that I play with my boyfriend
every so often, and it marks the culmination of the many hours that he
and I have spent mastering the art of finger-fucking.  The fact that our
adventures in digital diddling sometimes takes place in public adds a
delicious thrill to the proceedings.  We're not really exhibitionists,
however, and most of the time when his fingers find my cunt we're in bed
at home, just like ordinary folks.

  But the truly amazing thing for me about our rendezvous in bars is
that, up until a few months ago, the phrase "finger-fucking" meant only
one thing to me: It conjured up the embarrassing and painful memory of
Ronny Rosenwald, my first boyfriend.  We were both 13 years old, and
neither of us new a clit from a foreskin.  (Of course, being a
Rosenwald, Ronny didn't have a foreskin, and I've got a feeling he won't
discover the loss until he's about 48!).  Ronny used to take me out to
the storage shed behind my dad's shop at nights, and most of the time
we'd just stand there, paralyzed.  One night, however, he got an attack
of courage.  Suddenly lifting my skirt, he scooted his middle finger
down my stomach and into my panties, giving me a nasty scratch under the
navel from his untrimmed fingernail.  Then I was nearly lifted off the
ground by Ronny's none-too-clean finger crooked across my pussy like an
ice-pick.  The same sharp fingernail was poking me in my little ass, and
his calloused knuckle had struck a jarring blow to my pee-hole on its
way down before he'd turned his hand over to make the big hook.  I felt
as if I'd done a parachute landing on a tight-rope, legs apart!  I
yelped in pain, Ronny ran, and my poor little pussy felt sore all night
and all through the next day.  That was the end of that relationship.

  Consequently, whenever later lovers tried to interest me in clitoral
caresses, I would push their hands away and encourage them to
et-to-fuckin'. and I expect I lost out on a heap of fine orgasms
because of it.  I never masturbated myself during my teenage years
(honest!), and throughout my early twenties, if a man's finger inched
too close to my tightly clenched anus, I'd literally jerk it away.  It
was like a conditioned reflex.  I hated doing it, but it was as if my
body was out of my control, and it made for some anxious moments with
several good men.

  It wasn't until I met my present boy friend a few months ago that I
discovered the almost magical power that fingers can exercise over the
openings of the human body.  The first few times we made love, Michael
would give me a massage afterwards.  He has fine long hands - strong yet
sensitive - and he'd take special care of my ass.  It gets stiff from
sitting in an office all day, and he loves to really work on the cheeks,
rolling, squeezing and teasing them until they feel as warm as if they
had been spanked.  Once or twice his oiled fingers would naturally creep
down my crack and linger around my anus and vagina, and one day I
realized to my astonishment that I hadn't jerked away as I usually did.
In fact I felt so good about it that I wanted more, and the next time we
fucked I guided his hand down to my cunt.  The combination of trust and
sensual massage did the trick; from that point on the memory of clumsy
Ronny's attempted finger rape was put firmly in perspective - a
childhood experience to smile at.

  Finger-fucking is now an important and regular part of my sex life,
and I consider myself an expert, at least as far as being on the
receiving end is concerned.  There really is an art to finger-fucking,
but it's an art that anybody can learn, providing they have a willing
trusting partner.

  The first rule of successful digital diddling is fundamental: Make
sure your fingers are as clean as possible and your nails are trimmed.
The second rule is equally simple: Wet is good, dry is bad.  Sounds
elementary?  It is, but my girlfriends tell me that a lot of guys out
there aren't too sure about it.  Most men know that the clitoris - the
tiny button of flesh located just above the urethral opening where the
vaginal lips join - is the basic nerve center of female sexuality.  But
it's not like an electrical switch: You can't just flick it to turn it
on.

  To begin with, the clitoris is often hooded by its own tiny set of
lips.  While protuberant on many women, it's a kind of shy and retiring
little devil on some ladies and needs careful coaxing to make its
appearance.  My own clit follows the pattern of a lot of girls I know:
It hides at the start of a sex session, makes a brief appearance about
halfway through when I'm beginning to have my first orgasm, and then
ducks back under its hood as I approach the big one.  My man's finger
can detect it and help it along through each of these three phases.

  But it wouldn't do much good if he suddenly and immediately zeroed in
on it with his middle finger and manipulated it like a guitarist adding
vibrato.  Clits need lubrication, and, like asses, they don't provide
their own.  For me, the best lubrication of all is my own cunt juice.  I
usually get very wet very quickly when we start to make out, and when
Michael first parts my legs, nine times out of ten he finds my vaginal
lips floating on a sea of juice.  Occasionally, however, I'm not as
moist as usual, and that's when he gets things going by using his tonge.
Then, usually when I am sitting on his face, he'll insert both thumbs
into my cunt and blow and finger-fuck me at the same time.  It's great!

  I like to have my cunt thoroughly explored with his fingers - first
one, then two, then three.  I like to imagine that each of his fingers
is a tiny cock - but with the added advantage of being able to grip,
bend and twist its way right to the top of my uterus.  I also like to
swallow his fingers with my vaginal muscles - sucking them in and
trapping them for as long as possible.  And when I'm feeling slavish and
masochistic, I crave being on my hands and knees with my ass high and my
legs apart while he thrusts his thumb into my sopping cunt and grips my
bush with his fingers.  When he holds on tight and moves my whole body
any way he wants to, I feel utterly vulnerable and in his command.
Sometimes he squats behind me and puts both thumbs in together - nail to
nail - while each hand grasps one of my buns.  Then, as he presses each
thumb sideways against my vaginal walls, he digs his fingers into my ass
and rotates my entire body a few degrees one way and then back again.

  When he's sure that I'm about as wet as I'm ever going to get, he
withdraws his fingers from my cunt and, using them as blunt, inverted
spoons, ladles the natural juices of my vagina out and on to my outer
lips, thighs and clit.  At that point, whatever he does to my clit is
okay with me!  He's built my passion to the boiling point, he's
converted moisture into a flood, and he's moved the excess lubrication
to where it will do the most good.

  Some women, at this stage, are all clit.  They want nothing better
than a steady finger vibration - East to West and back - that starts
gently but eventually gets very rapid and very hard.  From my own
decidedly unscientific sample of my girlfriends, these are the women
whose clits are large, protuberant and easy to see and feel.  But even
these girls need a new supply of lubrication now and then.  You can't
assume that one lube will do the trick.  Every so often go back to the
main supply - the cunt - and apply as much juice as you can to the clit.
Don't wait until she asks you; if she doesn't need it, the pause will be
a welcome tease.  (Incidentally, talking of teasing, it's fun sometimes
to insert a finger slowly into your woman's cunt after you've been
eating her out for a while when she's really expecting your cock.  This
works particularly well if she has her back to you and can't see what
you're doing.  Then, if you both like domination games, you can tell her
that she'll only get the finger until she begs for your penis). 

  My favorite kind of clitoral stimulation is North-to-South, not
East-to-West.  I like the particular friction of my clit's hood going
up-down over it.  I find my vagina contracts and expands as this is
done, and I get an incredible sensation of my clit being pulled in two
directions at once - first by the hood on top, and secondly by the
vaginal lips below.  The way that Michael does this best is by using two
hands at once.  While one hand is literally finger-fucking me, and
working variations on my labia, his other is busy on my clit and hood.
Despite what some sexologists maintain - that there is no such thing as
a purely vaginal climax - I experience two distinct waves of climaxes
simultaneously when he does this - one from my cunt and the other from
my clit, although I admit they seem to be related to each other. 

  The varieties of methods and techniques you can employ to finger-fuck
your old lady are limited only by your imagination.  Fingers are
incredible mechanisms: They can act as diagnostic tools to tell you cunt
size and whether your woman is menstruating; they communicate to your
mind at a touch how juicy she is and whether she needs more stimulation. 

  The realization that you can bring your lover to an ecstatic orgasm
with only your hands and fingers can act like a constant shot of
adrenaline to your relationship.  And if more men realized that they
never have to leave women high and dry after climaxing first -
especially on those occasions when the man is tired after a hard day and
doesn't feel up to hours of humping - there'd be many happier homes
across the country.  For men who prematurely ejaculate (and believe me,
there are a lot of you out there - ask any woman!) finger-fucking skills
are nothing less than essential requirements.  Once you know that you
can be an erotic genius with your hand, you're not going to want to roll
over and snore while your woman simmers in frustration beside you.  And
you'll never have to apologize or feel bad about coming in 60 seconds
flat ever again.  It's as simple as this: When your cock needs a rest,
your hands are still horny.