She was called Lorraine and we were both aged 12, we loved each other to bits and promised we'd always be together.
This was in 1953 when attitudes towards sex were a lot less liberal than they are today so our activities were limited to holding hands and on the odd occasion we kissed.....on-the-lips :-) oh! great joy!
Anyway in 1956 or thereabouts I noticed her friend, Helen.
On first glance I thought Helen was deformed until my bestest friend EVER, Rod, told me that what I thought were large boils, were in fact called breasts.
Lorraine, God bless her, had nary the slightest sprouting of these breasts....quite naturally I was fascinated by Helen's 'deformity' and made it my business to investigate further.
All our, or rather my, promises of undying devotion to Lorraine were cast aside like a sodden glove and despite her entreaties I made a bee line for Helen and thus began my education into the world of groping.
I groped everywhere, bus shelters,shop doorways, back alleyways, you name it, I groped there.
Then came the day when Helen decided to 'do it' with me.
Fast forward to Wythenshawe park with the speed of a thousand gazelles on heat, I was about to become a man!
It was an utter fiasco, believe me. The Gods themselves must have been laughing their socks off to witness my inept fumblings but persever I did until eventually I was 'in'.
After roughly 5 seconds I was out again, spent and wondering what all the bloody fuss was about.
"If that's all it is" I thought, "I'll have a wank later"
So anyway, I got better until I could last up to 30 seconds on a good day. I got bored with Helen and decided to give Lorraine another chance.....she had breasts now y'see and they were a damn sight bigger than Helens.
Lorraine gave it some thought and decided to take me back----it lasted about 2 weeks before we both realised that the dreams of childhood are just that, dreams.
I sometimes wish I could meet those two girls again but at the ripe old age of 67 I doubt that possible and in any event I wouldn't recognise either of them if they trod on my head.
That's it
This was in 1953 when attitudes towards sex were a lot less liberal than they are today so our activities were limited to holding hands and on the odd occasion we kissed.....on-the-lips :-) oh! great joy!
Anyway in 1956 or thereabouts I noticed her friend, Helen.
On first glance I thought Helen was deformed until my bestest friend EVER, Rod, told me that what I thought were large boils, were in fact called breasts.
Lorraine, God bless her, had nary the slightest sprouting of these breasts....quite naturally I was fascinated by Helen's 'deformity' and made it my business to investigate further.
All our, or rather my, promises of undying devotion to Lorraine were cast aside like a sodden glove and despite her entreaties I made a bee line for Helen and thus began my education into the world of groping.
I groped everywhere, bus shelters,shop doorways, back alleyways, you name it, I groped there.
Then came the day when Helen decided to 'do it' with me.
Fast forward to Wythenshawe park with the speed of a thousand gazelles on heat, I was about to become a man!
It was an utter fiasco, believe me. The Gods themselves must have been laughing their socks off to witness my inept fumblings but persever I did until eventually I was 'in'.
After roughly 5 seconds I was out again, spent and wondering what all the bloody fuss was about.
"If that's all it is" I thought, "I'll have a wank later"
So anyway, I got better until I could last up to 30 seconds on a good day. I got bored with Helen and decided to give Lorraine another chance.....she had breasts now y'see and they were a damn sight bigger than Helens.
Lorraine gave it some thought and decided to take me back----it lasted about 2 weeks before we both realised that the dreams of childhood are just that, dreams.
I sometimes wish I could meet those two girls again but at the ripe old age of 67 I doubt that possible and in any event I wouldn't recognise either of them if they trod on my head.
That's it