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When I Helped an 'Ugly' Girl Feel Better

Posted by: Author: Age: 15 then, 20now Posted on: 0 comments
0 likes 1125 views Category: Masturbation Male-Female Tags:

I've been reading Solo Touch for a year or more, and I've finally got my nerve up to post the story about me and the 'ugly' girl.


This is a different kind of story from most of those on Solo Touch, because it's not just about masturbation and I've never seen anything quite like it here. But it's my favorite story and I don't know any place else to tell it. So you're my only audience and I hope you like it.

The spring I was 15, I was living with my mom in a run-down apartment building. My dad was long gone, my brother was in the army, and my mom worked, so I was home alone afternoons. A girl in my class (call her Amy) lived downstairs in the same building. She was incredible: long blonde hair, D-cup breasts, and perfect hips and butt that she really knew how to move. I'd follow her home from school and run to my room to fantasize about her while I jerked off, while the memory was fresh This should have been my lucky year, except for two things. I was totally girl-shy and geeky, and ignorant about what girls were like, physically, emotionally, whatever. Besides that, she wanted something better than me, and treated me like I'd just crawled out of the dumpster. But she was equal-opportunity nasty. She had a little 12-year-old sister I'll call Beth, and Amy treated her like dirt, too. Beth was nothing like Amy. She had short, brownish hair, a round, freckly face, and was as straight-sided as a skinny 12-year old guy. Amy wanted nothing to do with her, so I used to see Beth out alone, practicing soccer against the wall of the carports. Sometimes I'd go practice with her, playing defense so she could run attacks on me. I was good, but she was quicker and she could often beat me. I felt sorry for her because my brother had treated me like Amy treated her (but not so bad.) Sometimes when we quit practicing, I saw she didn't want to go home and get picked on by Amy, so I'd hug her until she felt better. I was too shy to do that with a real girl like Amy, but hey, Beth was just a little kid! But that spring she quit letting me hug her. When I tried, she'd turn her shoulder toward me. I figured she had a boyfriend and didn't want to be seen hugging a geeky neighbor.

I was home alone one day, listening to music, when Beth knocked on the door. This wasn't unusual, but this time she looked really unhappy, like Amy had been teasing her really hard again. I sat her down at the table, got her a drink and asked 'So what's happening?'

She got teary-eyed and said 'I'm so ugly!'

'You're not! You're cute. Kind of.' I kicked myself for adding 'Kind of', so I said, 'I think you're really cute.' That didn't help. We went back and forth the same way until she says 'I am ugly. Look!'

She yanked up her shirt, turned toward me, and said 'See? I'm deformed. That's what I am.'

Actually, I didn't see. She had on a bra, and if AAA-cups ever existed, that's what these were. She was as flat as Kansas. 'You're not ugly, You're fine,' I told her. She was crying now. 'I am so. They're not even the same size. Look!' She unhooked her bra and pushed it up with her tee shirt.

Now, one of the six objectives in my 15-year-old life was to see a girl's breasts. Not a magazine or a picture on the net (we didn't have a computer, anyway) but real breasts. And here I was looking at Beth's, this little kid! 'See?' she said.

'They're ... nice. They're ... feminine,' I said. She's like 'They're not. Amy's are feminine. Hers are like...' She cupped her hands like she was holding a couple of melons. 'Boobs!' Then she started giggling, along with the crying. 'You know why they're called 'boobs'?'

This caught me by surprise. 'Uhhh, no. Why?' She grabbed a napkin off the table and wrote 'BOOBS :', then pushed it in front of me. She pointed to the 'OO' and said 'See, that's what they look like.' then turned the paper sideways and pointed to the two 'B's. 'There's two girls on top of each other. They're hanging down. And look at this.' She pointed to the 'S'. 'She's got one that goes up and one that hangs down.' Then she pointed to the two little dots of the ':' and said 'And that's me.' I didn't know what to say, but she was laughing her head off. Then she wiped her eyes, sniffed, and got looking serious. 'You want to feel me?'

'Uhhh...' was all I could say. I shouldn't do this. Getting a feel was number 3 on my list of 6 things, but this is Beth, my little neighbor. My brain said 'no', my hormones said 'yes'. Hormones won. 'Oh, yeaaaah!' I reached over and started just stroking a breast very delicately, then massaging it. They actually were kind of ugly, not round like I expected, but just little conical nipples, not much darker or bigger than mine. They squashed flat when I massaged them. There were harder lumps under the nipples, and those must have been what she didn't want me to feel by letting me hug her. 'They're nice,' I told her.

'That feels good,' she said, and she leaned back in the chair and started making little 'Ohh' sounds. Then, she says in this quiet little voice 'You could suck on them like you're a baby. If you want to.'

Ohmigahhhhd! That was way beyond my list of six things. 'OK,' I said, and I twisted around to get my mouth down to her chest. I couldn't move away from the table because I was so hard if I tried to stand up I'd tip the table over for sure. Besides, I couldn't let this innocent little kid see that huge bulge in my pants. I had her whole young breast in my mouth and was sucking and licking the nipple, and the little sounds she was making got closer and closer together. I saw her hand go between her legs and start rubbing. She'd rub fast for a while and stiffen in the chair, then slow down and relax, then start faster again, until she suddenly straightened in the chair and took a big gasping breath. She shivered all over, and let that breath out with a sigh, then sank back into the chair. Then suddenly she pulled away, ran toward the door and faced away from me while she pulled down her t-shirt and re-hooked her bra. She looked back with a panicky expression. 'Are you gonna tell?'

'Tell who? What?' I said. 'No. I wouldn't tell. You're my girlfriend.' She slammed the door and was gone. I didn't see her for a week, until one day she came to the door and asked 'Am I really your girlfriend?' 'Well, yeah, I like you.' I said. It didn't cost me anything to say that, if it made her feel better. She said 'Ha-ha Amy! She's got boobs but I've got a cool boyfriend.' Then she ran away again. Next day she came to the door again and asked 'Hey, you wanna practice soccer with me?'

We practiced every day until the first week of summer. She never showed me her breasts again, but when she let me hug her, I could feel them against my chest. Naturally, I'd start getting hard, but I didn't let her feel it against her. Hey, she was still just a little kid! And I didn't even know girls had that kind of feelings, tho I was beginning to wonder if Beth might. A funny thing was happening to me, though. I'd be in the bathroom jerking off, and suddenly, instead of fantasizing about Amy, it was Beth's little breasts I was imagining, and I was pretending it was my hand instead of hers stroking between her legs. I had to concentrate on Amy. Beth was too young to think about that way.

Then they moved to a different town nearly 13 miles away, so Amy could have a 'better' kind of school. Beth and I talked on the phone every day, and when school started, we wrote notes in class and snail-mailed them to each other. I didn't actually see her until spring. One day, I finally bicycled over to her place. We sat around and talked with her mom and finally she wanted to show me her bedroom. She closed the door, leaned against it, and whispered 'Am I still your girl friend?' I told her, 'I rode all the way over here just to see you, didn't I? You?ll always be my girl.' It was a really geeky thing to say, but she liked it. She pulled up her shirt, unhooked her bra, and said, 'Look. I got boobs now. Do you like them?' Omigaahd, they were so perfect! Maybe B-size, and they stood up so perfectly round! 'Oh, they are so beautiful!' I told her. I just touched with my fingertips, feeling the softness of her breasts and the hardness of her nipples. Then she shivered all over and gasped, and quickly pulled her shirt down and hooked her bra. 'We gotta go back before Amy accuses us of doing things.' She rolled her eyes toward heaven and said 'You know Amy.' She wrapped herself around me, pressed herself tight against me, and kissed me hard, then ran back to the kitchen where her mom was. I had to look around her room until I found a notebook to carry in front of me to keep them from seeing how hard I was. After dinner, she walked me out to my bike. Before I left, she whispered 'I don't care any more if Amy's prettier and has big boobs, as long as you like me.' I promised her I did, and she said 'I love you.' and there wasn't anything more I could say or do except ride off to home.

After that day, I rode over to see her whenever I could, and we talked on the phone a lot. It started to get like phone sex, but we could never find the chance to get more physical than the little flashes of breast to show me how she was developing. At Christmas, I finally got a computer and a year later I got a car. Each step made it better for us. I don't know how long it took me to figure out I was actually in love with her.

It's been five years and we are still great together. My parents didn't even stay together this long, and they were married in church. I finally got through community college, and next fall we're going to the University together. I never did find what was going on in her life that first summer, and she won't talk about it, but that's OK now. Sometimes when she's feeling flirty, she'll say 'I'm so ugly,' and pull up her tee shirt and bra, and I'll tell her 'I think you're kinda cute.' Then if we have the apartment to ourselves, she'll say 'Let's go practice soccer-Afterwards.'



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