You know that look grandparents have when their grand child is about to monumentally fuck up? Their expression is a kindly, knowing one of “Let her find out for herself.’ Well, I’ve found the seeds of that behaviour in me.
I don’t feel a raging desire to leap on everyone I find sexy….yes, I know….I was surprised when I realised that too. Neither do I feel an irresistible urge to rub one (or more) out if I see something sexy. Oh, sometimes I do, make no mistake, but the point is it’s not every time.
Take yesterday afternoon for example. The weather had thought it was summer, and apart from the colours of the leaves, you’d think it was summer. It was warm…like a late spring, early summer’s day. Naturally the kids at the secondary school had seized the opportunity to go without jackets, and the girls had rolled their skirts up a little higher, and had tied their shirts around their tummies exposing a little band of skin. Some even had piercings glinting away. Very naughty.
One girl caught my eye. Something maybe about how she walked, some air of confidence the others didn’t have. When she passed me, I saw the strategically placed thong showing above her waistband. A warm smile spread across my face, together with an excitement. But not for me….for her. I saw her with her foot on the very beginning of that wonderful, magical road of self discovery. As she walked past and off into the distance, I found myself hoping her parents were as forward thinking and free as mine. I saw her path mapped out…..discovery of her body….masturbation….kissing….the first time she allowed someone to touch her (over clothes naturally) then the first time she allowed someone’s hand under her top and inside her bra. Then, the first time she let someone other than her touch between her legs….oh, what a big thing that is. And finally….full sex. I felt almost jealous that my journey had passed these points. I wanted to relive it with her.
A boy mooched past. Hands wedged firmly in his pockets. He wasn’t looking around himself, and his attention was definitely focussed inwardly. Boys his age think of sex on average once every 15 seconds…or so I’m told. His hormones would be coursing through his body…spontaneous erections, wet dreams….the constant fears of every boy, “Is it big enough…..will I last long enough….what if I cum too quickly….what if I get her pregnant….what if I catch something….will it hurt (her/me)”. He too is at the start of his road, a road that, like hers, will start out alone and merge as his life progresses. Their respective roads will merge and part many times over their lives…oh how exciting! Isn’t life wonderful?
A couple of years ago, I saw a girl sitting alone on the cricket pitch in the village. It was the last day of the school year and she had been just sitting there. That alone looked unusual, but I noticed that what she was doing was even more unusual - so unusual in fact that I didn’t register what she was doing until much later. With her left hand, she tugged her T-shirt down and away from her while her right hand shot up under it. There was some fiddling around and then both hands were in view again. This was followed by a similar exercise with her skirt. She was sitting cross-legged and she would use her left hand to pull her skirt out straight while the right dived underneath. She stayed like this for longer, before repeating. Part of me filed it under the ‘adolescent girls fiddle around with themselves a lot’ heading,- it’s not sexual, it’s just bras take some getting used to, and pubes, when they come in and especially when you start to shave them so they don’t leak outside your panties, itch like a bastard.
It was early evening before I shot upright in my chair and announced to the room, “Fucking hell! She was wanking!” Well, of course she was….how could I have not seen it for what it was at the time? Good for her! Since then, I’ve seen teenage girls and boys have surreptitious wanks in a number of situations…on the beach…in cinemas/theatres…even in the village library. Where there’s a need, people will find a way.
I think it’s not precocious of me to perhaps suggest that I have come a long way down the road of sex - perhaps further than most have at my age. Experience builds wisdom, and as many are the things I like, there are a few things I’ve tried that I didn’t like. I’m not sure I’m brave enough to share them with you just yet, but one day I may.
Luck? Oh yes, that has and does play a part. I was lucky my family are the kind of folk they are, especially my sister Alison. Then there’s The Lovely Chris, Alison’s boyfriend and my time-share cock. He has, at my request, done things with, for and to me. Most have worked out fabulously, but some didn’t. Either he, I or both of us didn’t like it. The point is, I will never be one of those people who says “I wish I had…..” when it comes to sex.
You see, sex is….well, leaving out the part that sex is something you can do on your own, sex is communication on the most intimate of levels. It’s sharing, but most of all, it’s a giving. I have had selfish lovers. One in particular sticks in my mind. John was, like most of us at that age, inexperienced, but it became quickly obvious that John only cared about his orgasm. He would be happy to let me wank,or blow him, or even fuck him, but the moment he came, that was it. Finished. He showed no interest in me or my frustration. If I wanted to cum I had to do it myself..or..as he put it, “On your own time, not mine.” We lasted two weeks!
Watching the look of complete unutterable pleasure on your partner’s face because of something you are doing for him/her is sex….it is the purest form of sex. Sex is, as I never tire of saying….giving.
Well, oh dear…this turned out to be more philosophy than sex, didn’t it? Don’t worry, normal service will be resumed shortly, I have no doubt.
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