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1958 – SEX EDUCATION – PART 3

The thing about breasts, especially large ones, is that there is a time in your life when they are everything you could want.

I was fifteen and Jillian was a big girl caressed by puppy fat, with a kind face and lovely eyes and black stockings held up by pennies twisted into the tops and enormous breasts that one dark night I was allowed to feel through a thick coat, a double-knit sweater, a school blouse and a cast-iron bra. As the weather grew warmer, Jillian left her coat at home and the wonderful breasts felt less like a pile of laundry and more like my imagination. One very dark night, dark enough to hide my shyness, as we lay by the river I put my hand inside Jillian’s sweater and then inside her blouse and then inside her bra and lay perfectly still, waiting for a slap in the face that never came.

At last I was allowed to do it in daylight and Jillian showed me how to undo her bra, though no matter how much I practised I always needed two hands because her bras were powerfully engineered and had four lots of hooks. I was in paradise, lying in the grass by the river, eyes closed, holding her breasts and stroking the nipples that grew hard between my fingers like nuggets of gold, never daring to try for more. She reached up under her skirt and gave me one of the pennies that held her stockings up.

‘Tomorrow,’ she whispered, ‘you can have the other three.’

Wow, tomorrow I will have four-pence, the price of admission to paradise.

And then I went away for the summer to stay with my cousins in Cornwall and found another pair of breasts to adore, older breasts that were smaller, but much more used to being handled and eager to see the light of day, but I was still too scared to go any further. And when I got home Jillian had got fed up waiting and given her virginity to someone else.