proud!
I managed 40 press-ups and 50 sit-ups this evening. I even managed a 10 minute jog around the local park. I figured that if we are going to have sex, then she will have to see me naked, which is a little scary in itself. It is therefore only fair that I make a little bit of an effort to not look so much like Jabba the Hutt.
I ‘borrowed’ my dad’s laptop and did a little bit of searching to pick up a few tips. The World Wide Web is indeed a very dirty place! I have to admit to getting a little side-tracked from my initial search, but think I have deleted everything that I looked at. It is my dad’s work computer and he would go mental if he knew that I had looked at such sites as ‘www.giant-teen-tits.com’!
Wednesday, February 15th
Pretty sure that when all is said and done, and when I cash out from this life. Today will be the best day of my life!
I carefully packed all three of my Durex Gossamer condoms into my mini jeans’ pocket, checked my breath and left for Sasha’s. I arrived at Sasha’s at around 12:30pm and she answered the door in her dressing gown. Her gown was a bit too open at the top allowing easy boob viewing access, which was very nice. They are certainly nice boobs, not quite the same as those I witnessed on ‘www.giant-teen-tits.com’, but very nice. From the magazines and Page 3s I have ‘studied’ over the years, I would guess at a bra size of 34C. I can honestly say that I have never really taken a great deal of notice in them before and just how great they are. Perhaps I really do need my eyes testing after all.
She lunged at me on the doorstep and gave me a really passionate kiss, I had an instant erection. Because of this I did not enjoy the kiss as much as I should have. I was far too busy trying to pull my groin away while maintaining my effective mouth lock. I did not think she would appreciate being stabbed in the stomach by my rouge erect penis.
She led me by the hand into the lounge, poured me a glass of wine and put on some music… The Smiths! As we established earlier, dear diary, I love The Smiths. Fair play, probably not the most romantic choice of music in the world, but this chick certainly has class! ‘I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour….’ I had only had a sip of wine, but I was certainly in a haze. I am not a big drinker either, so knew I would really have to watch myself.
We sat on the sofa and my stomach was turning over and over with a dangerous concoction of wine, excitement and nerves. She took my wine from me, put it on the table and kissed me while pushing me back.
The sofa was made from a very soft black leather with an unearthly cold feel to it. There were buttons on it! That’s weird, why put buttons on a sofa? I deliberately focused on these things as I was trying to calm myself down. I was getting worried that either my stomach would explode or the excess blood in my groin region would leave my brain in deficit and lead me to pass out. To make matters even worse I developed a sudden need to fart. Not just a little one, but a huge, ‘oh my god my eyes are stinging’ one that could not only end this relationship in one brown gust, but one which could also endanger both our lives.
She ran her fingers through my hair and caressed the back of my neck. I just lay there trying to decide whether I should have my eyes open or closed. One of life’s great mysteries I suppose, I chose closed in the end – after all, I had a massive fart to concentrate on suppressing. Questions rifled through my head as my panic continued:
“Am I doing this right?”
“Is she enjoying this too?”
“Oh my god is my breath still OK?”
“What is the capital of Ecuador?” (This question was on a quiz show I watched last night and I missed the answer when my mum called me for dinner.)
“Why is the sky blue?”
I got a little braver and put my hands around her back and started to caress her hair. We must have been kissing for about five minutes and my lips were getting a little numb. I guessed that hers must have been too as she started to just use her tongue. She used it to caress my tongue first, then my lips, then chin and then she was on my neck. It struck me at this point that we had not even actually said hello to each other.
Having your neck kissed, simply has to be why God put us on the earth; I wanted to die there and then as surely life would never be that good again!
While she worked her magic around my neck she grabbed my right hand and guided it into her dressing gown and onto her breast, her naked perfect breast. Things were getting pretty serious now!
Her skin was 1000oC. I squeezed her gently, not really knowing what I was expected to do. Her skin was soft and the texture made my head spin. I brushed my finger against her nipple and she let out a soft moan, stared intensely into my eyes, smiled and then playfully bit my bottom lip.
I had a horrible feeling that if she were to suddenly decide to touch ‘downstairs’ I would have been unable to control myself! I had to quickly try and think of stuff to help me keep it together as I was starting to feel myself spiralling out of control with the intensity of the situation.
“My nan’s facial hair.”
“Runny dog shit.”
“Sasha’s naked perfect breast! Sasha’s naked perfect breast!” – No, no, no, try harder!
“Faggots and peas.” – I hate Faggots and detest peas!
“Nan’s moustache, Nan’s beard.”
“A shaking shitting dog.”
“Sasha’s naked perfect breast! Sasha’s naked perfect breast!” – It was clearly no use!
Then she touched ‘downstairs’! I just about managed to keep it together. This obviously felt very nice, but I just felt so nervous and vulnerable that I don’t think I really enjoyed it as much as I should have. I did wonder why, that during the most intimate and exciting moment of my life to date, I was unable to just go with it and enjoy it. Instead, I felt myself just laying back against the insanely ‘cold buttoned black leather sofa’, holding in a deadly fart as tense as an iron bar imagining my hairy nan walking a shaking shitting dog with diarrhoea!
“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered in my ear.
I managed a nod, popped into the bathroom, farted for what felt like five minutes, checked my tackle and skipped off to have sex for the first time in my life.
Dear diary, some things I am afraid I just won’t share. The only thing I will say is that it was amazing, not as short as I was worried about and that it happened three times! I knew I should have bought the bigger pack from the chemist!
We spent the rest of the afternoon in her bed watching rubbish telly, laughing and cuddling.
But the best part of the whole day for me was when Sasha said:
“That was my first time.”
Wow! I had assumed that as she is so hot, she must have had sex before, at least once. She was far more confident than me as well and really did seem to know what she was doing.
She also told me that she loved me, I told her I loved her too (I am pretty sure I was telling the truth as well). I am now officially in a proper adult relationship and I am officially a man.
Quito, by the way.
Thursday, February 16th
Today, Sasha has gone up North (Liverpool way I think) with her family to visit an aunt who isn’t very well, and I am at a loose end. Luckily Martin was in the same situation so I spent the morning revising and then popped into Brighton with him. I told him about yesterday, although not in any degree of detail, no matter how much he prodded!
We sat in Costa Coffee and had a couple of lattes and a muffin each, and then went bowling. As I mentioned before, I am awful at bowling and always lose, it’s a bloody irritating game that really does look a hell of a lot easier than it actually is. As usual my lane was surrounded on either side by fucking professionals who seemed to get a strike with every bowl. I managed one all afternoon. I watched them for a little while, all of them seemed to have a magical ability to make the ball swerve all over the shop before angling into the side of the first pin and then smashing them down in a kind of domino effect, it really is quite impressive. However, let’s not forget that it is a stup
id game, which really pisses me off; I have no idea why I agreed to play.
Needless to say Martin hammered me and spent the rest of the day gloating and doing impressions of my pathetic bowling technique. He described it as, “Rather like an 80-year-old lady with a hunchback doing a shit while falling forwards off the toilet.” Pretty accurate really.
We stopped at HMV and looked through the 100s of exciting games that neither of us could afford, before catching the bus back home. I did make a purchase however, Hatful of Hollow by The Smiths, the soundtrack to the best day of my life! Quite ironic that it contains the song, ‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’!
I spoke to Sasha in the evening, she has only been away for a few hours in reality but it’s hard to describe just how much I miss her. It feels like when you are watching a really exciting film that is getting near the end and your dad walks, in turns it over and simply says, “News!” Sasha is due back on Saturday evening and we have made plans to go bowling on Sunday. God I hate bowling.
Has having sex made the relationship weird? Nope! It’s made me want to be with her all the time (and obviously have sex, all the time too). I think I have found a new hobby, one which I want to become very good at. I am really looking forward to the practise.
I spent the evening doing a bit of revision while listening to my new CD. Teachers who say, “You can’t possibly revise while listening to