From: OneSickPuppy@HotMail.com   
      
   Story: MY FIRST PERIOD 1 of 2   
      
   by bobandcarole   
      
       It started out as a pretty normal day as I got ready and darted off to   
   school.  I felt a little sick, but I liked school and didn't often stay   
   home, so I thought I was just toughing it out.  My period caught me totally   
   by surprise.  I mean, sure I knew what it was all about, but I figured I   
   had at least another year before I started getting periods.   
      
       I know this may sound silly, but I had absolutely no forewarning, and   
   according to Murphy's law, I was wearing cream colored shorts.  Needless to   
   say, by the time 4th period (no pun intended) math I was needing to go   
   home. With my jacket wrapped around my waist (which luckily for me was a   
   stylish thing to do) I went to the office to call mom so she could pick me   
   up.  I didn't tell them anything as I was WAY too embarrassed, just that I   
   wasn't feeling well.   
      
       The woman at the desk made some comment about me being flushed and gave   
   me the OK.  At least the blushing had some good in it.  Only thing was, she   
   wasn't there.  After about ten minutes of continuous calling, the lady   
   asked if there wasn't someone else I could call.  I blushed harder and told   
   her that I could call my dad at work but I couldn't remember his number.   
   She told me it wasn't a problem and look it up for me in my files.  I was   
   almost wishing it hadn't been there.  It was embarrassing enough to me, let   
   alone I though my dad would be totally grossed out about it.  I know I felt   
   that way.   
      
       Reluctantly I called Dad, and after a couple minutes of explaining that   
   I "wasn't feeling good" he said he would come and get me and I hung up.   
   While I waited the 25 minutes (one of the longest waits in my entire life)   
   the lady at the desk asked me if I wanted to lay down.  I told her I   
   didn't.   
      
       Finally my dad arrived, squatted down beside me in the chair I was   
   hunching on, felt my head as he pushed back the hair from my face and asked   
   me what was wrong.  I started bawling into his arm like a little girl and   
   told him I just wanted to go home.  He nodded and helped me stand, and I   
   kept ahold of his arm, burying my face into him.  The lady at the counter   
   called out that she hopes I felt better in the morning.  I've always   
   wondered if she suspected.  I probably wasn't the first girl to get it   
   while at school and I know I wasn't the last.   
      
       Dad got me out to the car and we both got in.  I was sniffling, but I   
   had gotten over my crying episode.  I sat silently as he got into the car   
   and started it up.  He didn't say a word, just kept looking at me worried   
   like.  He knew something was wrong and was giving me some space.  I knew he   
   kept looking because I was watching him out of the corner of my eye.  I   
   wanted to tell him, but I was afraid.  I know it sounds silly, but I was   
   afraid that if he knew it would change things between us.   
      
       When we got home, I ran into the bathroom and pulled my stained clothing   
   from my body and got into the shower, taking my panties and shorts with me.   
   It wasn't long before he knocked at the door.  "Can I come in?" he asked   
   and I shouted NO.  Cindi, he said.  I think I know what's the matter and   
   really, it's OK.   
      
       He knew?  I thought I could just die now and everything would be all   
   right.  I sat down in the tub and watched as the faded pink water drained   
   from my panties as the shower head gushed it's water over them.  I was   
   crying again.  Man what an emotional wreck I was.  I was so absorbed in   
   myself that I never heard the lock being picked until my dad was kneeling   
   by the tub, caressing my shoulder and telling me it was all right.  He took   
   the shower head from my hand and I let it go.  Then he picked me up and   
   stood me on my feet and draped a towel around me.  I said that I would get   
   blood over it, and he told me it was ok.  He would take care of it and he   
   kissed me on my cheek.  I don't know how he does it, but he always could   
   (and still can) calm me.  I let him towel dry me as we talked.   
      
       He asked me if mom explained about menses and I told him that she did.   
   And he said that then I knew what pads and tampons were.  I got embarrassed   
   again but nodded.  He said good and gave me his patented "I love you" smile   
   and held out a pair of my panties with a pad already centered.  Now how   
   many dads would do this for their little girls?  Not many I tell you.  He   
   had me wipe and then helped me climb into them.  These should hold you   
   until your mom gets home, he said.   
      
       All of a sudden I was afraid that he was going to leave and go back to   
   work and told him so.  No, he assured me.  With that he pulled a fresh   
   nightgown over my head (which he seemed to have magically produced or so it   
   seemed), picked me up and carried me to my bed.  He laid me down, covered   
   me up and sat down next to me, stroking my forehead with his rough fingers.   
   As I looked into his caring loving eyes, he slowly slid his fatherly hand   
   over my tiny thighs and onto the lips of that swollen pussy.  With a   
   delicateness of a fine surgeon he opened that flower and found the   
   sensitive nubbin of my untouched clitoris and gently stroked it.  New   
   sensations flooded my tiny body and I began to moan and squirm in his   
   embrace.  Without warning the orgasm hit and I arched my back and squealed   
   with the surge.  I felt daddy's fingers caress my spasming sex organ and   
   roll in the opening to my virgina.  When the orgasm settled, I fell asleep   
   in his arms.  I didn't feel it but he carried me gently to my bed and put   
   me there to recover.   
      
       I didn't wake up until that evening, in which I told mom what happened,   
   excluding daddy's helping hands We sat and talked.  I cried again.  And mom   
   gave me some more in-depth info on the use and care on good old "feminine   
   hygiene." I went back to school the next day.  I didn't want to, but Daddy   
   convinced me that I should.  I was afraid that EVERYONE would know what   
   happened, and you know what?  No body did (or at least if they did, they   
   didn't let on).   
      
       Now why would I write a story on a subject such as this?  Easy.  This   
   was a major point in my life and I wanted to share this with you all as   
   well.   
      
       Anyway, hope this suffices till I get more time.   
      
       Cindi   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)