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My Seventh Grade Love

Posted by: Author: Age: 62 Posted on: 0 comments
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memories of yesterday


When I was in seventh grade and just beginning to get erections at just about anytime; even just standing to sing The National Anthem in homeroom, one thing I always looked forward to was sitting next to Ilene in biology class where we shared a double seat with a desk in front of us.

Ilene was attractive except that her curly blonde hair was all over her head falling to her face. She had nice features, especially her bosoms. I would always be glancing to my right to see how full they were as they pushed her bra out to the side. You know, to give that full look that was framed by the pattern of her brassiere. Since she always seemed to wear thin see-thru white blouses, I could catch the outline of the side of her left breast clearly, making sure I didn't get caught with my quick glances. Undoutedly, she had the best breasts in the class or any class; and my penis would always be hard as the thought of her breasts six inches away from my right elbow kept me up.

So, I had to keep adjusting my penis so it would not be obvious to Ilene. I'd even fold my hands in my lap sometimes because I thought she was staring at my condition, with her head slightly angled to her left as she leaned on her elbow yet nearer to me. I couldn't see what her eyes were focused on when she would put her hand's palm under her cheek and seem to let her eyes close somewhat. But she was so close I could smell her pheromones. They supersized my cock so that it was standing right up my belly. I looked down and could see it.

When it happened I would take my right hand and push it down and to the right so that it would disappear down my trouser leg. It always stayed so hard that I had trouble concentrating on what Ms. Miller was saying. Sometimes I'd just sit back in my chair and stare at the bra Ilene was wearing, but from the back; the way it cinched her back when she leaned forward. It was big in width, so I imagine a three

clasp job; but I couldn't tell for sure.

As months passed in Ms. Miller's class, and the same problem was upon me seemingly all of the time, I began to just forget about my problem and let it show itself to Ilene if and when she was looking. The double desks were arranged so that nobody could see my crotch except Ilene if she was looking. I really enjoyed seeing her breast bulge out of the side of her bra especially when she raised her hand to answer a question. The cloth of her shirt would tighten and the side of her breast rose as the hand went up.

One afternoon, all of the lights in the school went out, and we were left to do our work with just the light through the windows on a snowy day. In my usual condition, and for the first time I can remember, Ilene turned and looked me straight in the eye; sort of catching me staring at her. I looked back and smiled. To my surprise Ilene put her left hand on my right thigh, moved it up, and pulled my penis down to the right so that it was going down my pants leg again, put there very precisely by Ilene's left hand. I can't begin to say what I was feeling even as she used four fingers to rake it to where she thought was a more suitable position. I felt so incredibly good with her hand in control of me, I nearly came. But I didn't.

After class, Ilene walked up behind me as I was walking down the hall. She said to me, 'I can't concentrate in biology if you can't hide your genitalia. I start getting wet and have to deal with it.' This in a whisper. Well, as I thought to myself, 'What is wet?' and 'Deal with it' Ilene veered into the girls' room just ahead.

Now, at nearly 63, I can remember that Ilene was the first girl that ever touched me.



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