Being a smart child and longing to re-enact the feelings from the garden hose, I began putting two and two together. Otherwise, the hose was it if you wanted to cool off. Indian hot sex HA HA HA.. My mind spun. The garden hose. This time, I directed it right between my legs and UMMMMMMMMMMMMMM, that’s it! But still I knew it was naughty and could earn me a hard spanking. “Oh honey, let’s get one with jets, my back hurts!” Yeah, right. At seven, I was too young to really understand that it was connected to ME, my own anatomy, something on MY body, and not the hose. Giggling with girlish enthusiasm, I stuck the hose far down into my tiny swimsuit. With a man’s penis going in and out, right? No one and nothing could stop me, if I had to risk everything! I knew the playtime was over and I had to remove the hose or my little bottom (that’s what my mother called my pussy, my “bottom”), would be blasted into infinity. A narcotic turn on. I’m sure it would. But I was determined this new playtime activity would continue or I’d die trying. Lucky me. I’d keep that up until the ultimate feeling hit like a jackhammer and I
