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A Sixties Story

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I realise that young adults these days have no conception as to how ignorant many of us, born in the forties and fifties, were when it came to sex, even when, we were in our late teens and early twenties. However, I am not sure, that our ignorance didn’t add a certain piquancy to the process of getting to know about it!

Like many of my generation, I was a virgin at eighteen and fearful – yes, fearful of losing it. It was like a parachute jump – I really wasn’t looking forward to actually doing it, but I would like to say that I had done it. The fear came from the prevailing taboos – getting the girl pregnant and failing to perform.

I suppose girls felt the same – except that I didn’t know any girls well enough to discuss such matters.

I had lost my father when I was a baby and was brought up as the youngest of three brothers, where my other siblings were very much older and were therefore more like fathers to me. To make things worse, I was educated in all-male schools, so never cultivated the interpersonal skills needed to co-exist with girls.

However, I did possess a vivid imagination and a strong sex drive which, by the time I was 18, left me constantly trying to subdue a straining erection. Looking back, it is wonderful to remember a time of 23/7 erections. The one hour a day being made up of the short intervals after fairly vigorous ‘self help’.

When I say that my upbringing was almost entirely devoid of female company of my own age, it was not entirely true. My father’s youngest sister had produced her oldest girl child, Jenny, around the time my mother had me and, although we grew up at the same time, it was not in the same place. She was raised in the south and I, miles away, in the north.

Our contact was limited to family get-togethers or visits when Jenny and I would always be required to “play” together, since we were the same age.

Despite our ages, we never really got on as children, due in part to my lack of female experience – women were either, Mothers, Grandmas, Aunts or..….Aliens – with whom my communication skills left me totally lacking. I found out later that Jenny’s background left her equally bereft of such ability.

My sexual ‘road-to-Damascus’ moment happened during the summer of my nineteenth year. Jenny was to spend part of the summer with my mother and I in the North whilst she waited to take up a position at a local teaching college where she had been accepted.

I was on holiday before starting my university course in the September.

Having been sent to collect her from the railway station, I was duly waiting when her train pulled in. Despite not having seen her for several years I recognised her at once, although the girl I recognised had changed form, from a grub of a ten-year-old, to a butterfly of an eighteen year old. Her skinny little body had filled out into a slim, shapely form and her tousled fair hair now flowed down and bounced around her shoulders. Most of her shapely legs were visible below the plaid mini skirt she wore and her ample bosoms strained the sheer garment that fought valiantly to contain them.

We hugged and I took her suitcases, guiding her to the exit and to the car that my oldest brother had lent me (on pain of death if I scratched it!) for the two weeks he was on holiday.


How we travelled the three miles home without an accident escapes me as I watched her long legs cross and uncross beside me. My 23/7 erection had moved into 24/7 mode!

As was traditional, after tea I was required to ‘play’ with Jenny – the mind boggles as I recall this instruction from my mother! – And I suggested taking her to a pub for a drink.

As this was life before our drink-driving laws, I picked a typical rural pub – not one with imitation Tudor beams. If it had Tudor beams – which it did, then they were genuine! This one also had a log fire in an authentic inglenook fireplace – all the things that nostalgia is made of!

It was a Wednesday and the pub was nearly empty and we found seats either side the fire. I ordered a pint of bitter and Jenny had a Snowball. She sat opposite me, her long legs crossed and I struggled to remain comfortable.

Our small talk continued for what seemed ages before she asked me, “Do you have a girlfriend, John?”

“Eh, No!”

“Oh!” she said, before I answered, “And you?”

“They made it very difficult at boarding school.”

“Oh!,” was all I could manage, then added, “you’ll be able to play the field when you get to college, then,”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

“Oh, come on – you will be fighting them off.”

“Do you think so?” she became a little girl again.

I blurted out, “Jenny, you’re gorgeous.”

Her head bowed as she smiled her appreciation.

I had embarrassed myself and stuttered, “I mean, well I ….” And then shut up.

After minutes of silence she said, “I didn’t think you liked me.”

I was dumbstruck. She was right, I never really did like her, but that was the girl she was – what she was now, I fancied to bits, but was not articulate enough to express this and replied, ” We were kids Jen, boys and girls don’t get on when they are little, do they?”

“I suppose not, but what’s changed?”

The truth was that she had grown into a gorgeous sexy babe and my testicles had dropped, but I said, “people grow up,” and left it at that.

We chatted for a couple of hours about this and that before leaving the dying log fire and headed home. I have to say that by the end of the evening I had growth to like Jenny. She was warm and honest and alarmingly shy despite her flirtatious dress sense.


The next day, lacking anything better to do, Jenny joined me on one of my favourite walks. She was dressed in a summer frock and sensible shoes and we took a picnic in a haversack which I slung over my shoulder.

My home town lay in a river valley – most of which, in those days, consisted of fields and woods and a common walking route lay along the river. Various mini-valleys led off the main river valley and, at the base of these, small streams fed the main river. Their slopes were wooded and were imaginatively called First, Second and Third wood although the Third Wood was by far the largest and most picturesque, being carpeted with bluebells in late April and May.

In August it was still magical as Jenny and I meandered along one of its woodland paths. At one point we reach a south facing clearing and I said, “Fancy a bite to eat?”

“Sounds good to me,” she replied.

I unslung my rucksack and withdrew a tartan blanket which I used to cover a sunny space beneath the trees.

We lay on the blanket and I retrieved a bottle of cider, two plastic beakers and a Tupperware box of sandwiches. I left the fruit in the bag.

“Fancy a banana?” I asked when we had finished the sandwiches.

Our eyes met and she shook her head slowly at the obvious innuendo.

“I’ll have the apple, please?” was her chased reply.

I gave her the apple and took the banana myself before laying back to eat it.

There was no wind and the insects buzzed around. The sun was hazy but warmed us as we lay.

After ages of silence she finally said “We could be the only people on the planet, you know.”

“Would you like that, then,” I asked.

“What, the thought that you and I had the responsibility to re-populate the planet – big responsibility,” she laughed.

“Could be fun though!” I had spoken without thinking and tried to cover up my embarrassment.

She laughed again and turned towards me. I rolled onto my side and our faces came together. We looked at each other for a few seconds and then she leaned forward and kissed me – just a peck on the lips – before withdrawing.

We continued to gaze at each other before I leaned forward and kissed her – not a peck this time, but a long, deep kiss that lasted and lasted and resulted in an embraced where we both hugged each other tightly.

Needless to say, my penis was erect and protruded awkwardly as we cuddled and I was sure that Jenny felt it. It was probably a warning to her that, unless she was prepared to start re-populating the world in nine months time, she should call a halt to the present situation. She pulled away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on, John…it’s not that I wouldn’t like to…I mean’s something that I have wanted to do…but…”

I finished her sentence. “But not with me.”

“No” she protested, “I would very much like you to be my first but we have to be safe.”

“Really!” I was elated at her response, then added sarcastically, if a little mockingly, “Whatever would the grown-ups think?”

She laughed. “I’m glad that you aren’t angry.”

“I’m not angry – a bit frustrated though, ” glancing down pointedly at my bulge, “but not angry.”

She gave me a peck on the cheek and then said coyly, “Is there is something I can do for that. You will have to help me though. I have never done anything like this before.”

I took her hand and placed it over my bulge and said.

“You will have to take it out.”

The combination of shyness and excitement was tremendous.

I lay back in the sun and let her undo my belt and unzip my jeans.

Her long fingers slid effortlessly into my shorts and she gave a little gasp as she held my rigid cock for the first time. This alone might have caused me to cum had I not cast my mind to others things.

“Take them off,” I whispered and she slid my under garments down and released my cock. I would have ejaculated there and then, but my self control persisted.

“Wow, that’s big,” she said, “What now?”

“Hold it, “I said and she complied.

“Now move your hand up and down.”

She stoked my cock up and down for some thirty seconds before I erupted and spurted my load high into that summer air. She gasped and gave a little shriek before letting go and then grabbing me again.

I said, “Keep going,” and thrust up and down into her, now stationary, hand.

She re-started pumping and continued until well after my reservoir was empty and her hand was coated with warm semen.

She didn’t know what to do next and just lay there holding my slackening cock as I lay replete. Eventually she wiped her sticky hand on the grass and then a handkerchief.

“Does it always do that?” she asked.

“Er, yes, I’m afraid so.”

“It’s a bit messy, isn’t it…I suppose you do this to yourself, don’t you!”

I felt and looked, sheepish. The guilt/embarrassment that had flooded over me as I ejaculated was still there.

“Yeh!” I replied

“I’m not stupid, I know that boys masturbate.”

I was feeling very embarrassed at this point.

And, as if sensing my discomforted, Jenny said, “girls do it as well, you know, John.”

As a sixties ignoramus, I didn’t actually know that women masturbated as well and said, “Oh!”

She kissed me, lay back, pulled up her skirt and said, “so now it’s my turn.”

She only wore the dress – no stockings or tights, so I looked down at her white thighs and cotton knickers. Her slightly parted legs revealed a damp stain on the fabric between them and some straggly hairs peeped out from the edges. I assumed she meant that she wanted me to finger her. Quite where, I had to find out, so I slid my hand up her thigh and between her legs to rest on her panties.

In response, she opened her legs some more to let me stroke between them and I felt the dampness between her thighs. I rubbed her panty clad vulva without knowing what I was doing and she pushed it further into my hand. I slipped one of my fingers under the leg of her panties and into the sloppy depths beneath. She moaned. I pushed a finger inside her and she moaned again humping my hand. I added another finger and began to saw in and out of her tunnel and then felt a stiff little bump at the front of her hole. I rubbed it and she moaned even louder and pushed hard against my hand, so I rubbed it again.

I seemed to be impaired by her knickers and was also very curious to see my first cunt so I dragged off her panties – an operation she seemed keen to encourage despite being distracted by my administrations.

With her skirt around her waist and her knickers around one ankle she spread her legs widely giving me my first glimpse of her engorged sex. It was bigger than I had expected and wrinkled with red folds and, despite her fair hair, her pubic hair was a dark forest. I continued to rub what I was to learn was, her clitoris and pound her cunt with my two longest fingers until she screamed and thrust hard into my hand before collapsing back onto the blanket and holding my arm to stop any further stimulation.

As her orgasm subdued, we lay together. When she recovered she leaned towards me and kissed me. “Thank you, that was great,” she said,” I’ve never had anyone else do it to me before.”

We lay together, still unclothed, until her composure returned. She reached over and said, “You have a lovely dick, John,” tapping my semi-flaccid cock gently.

“And you have a beautiful…’thing’,” I replied, hesitating to use the word ‘cunt’ in front of her. ( the word ‘Pussy’ was still to arrive on our shores)

We continued to lay together until she said, “Do you want to shag me, John?”

I was quite taken aback.

I paused and answered truthfully, “Yes.”

“Then you will have to get some of those… ‘things’.. won’t you?”

“I suppose I will,” I replied, returning her kiss.


Buying Durex was rather embarrassing, but eventually I managed to procure my ‘packet of three’.


The next day we left home after our evening meal on another trip to a rural pub. We sat together in a corner, at the back of the pub, both knowing what was to come later. It added a sexual tension to our evening and I am sure my cock never relaxed for a second.

We drank our drinks slowly, whispering to each other about what each of us was expecting later.

“Did you get some – you-know-whats?” she asked.

“Yes, three,” I said

“Good,” then she added, “I’m getting wet already. How about you?”

“I’ve been hard all day.”

Her hand slipped under the table and onto my leg before sliding up to cover my bulge. She squeezed me and I almost came.

“Please,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Let’s go somewhere.” She whispered in my ear.

I finished my beer; she had already finished her drink.

We left and got into the car. As I drove she leaned over towards me and rubbed my cock through my jeans. Eventually she whispered “Find somewhere to park.”

I pulled off the road and into a wooded lay-by before coming to a halt and switching off the engine and lights.

I turned towards her and kissed her, my hand groping her breast and fondling it. I undid her blouse and reached around to undo her bra. After minutes of struggling, her patience gave way and she assisted, releasing both, full breasts into my waiting hands. I fondled them for ages until she pushed my head down to suckle them. This left my hand free to venture between her legs.

As it slid it up between her thighs, her legs parted and I quickly reached her cunt. She wasn’t wearing any panties and my fingers slipped easily into her. I worked them in and out and rubbed her clitoris until she cried out, ” Now, John, I want you, now.”

I swung my legs over to kneel in the passenger footwell between her spread legs. I fumbled with my belt and the zip of my jeans and eventually I knelt, naked from the waist down, with my cock straining upward, in front of her. I retrieved a condom from my shirt pocket and struggled with the wrapper. When I finally got it out I managed to slide it over my manhood. In all this time, Jenny was lying back in her seat, skirt around her middle and holding her legs splayed apart. This presented her sex wide open and waiting.

I leaned forward so that the tip of my cock rested against her glowing opening and pushed. She was so well lubricated that I slid easily into her and, although there was a slight hiatus, it was soon overcome. I slid all the way up so that my curly hairs rubbed together with her curly hairs. When I was deep inside her, her vagina contracted around me and even without a single thrust, I came.

As I came, I managed a second thrust, but it was less than she needed and I felt awful and collapsed on top of her.

She, of course, did not know what had happened until she felt my cock becoming soft inside her, whereupon she held me tightly and comforted me.

I felt dreadful and kept saying, “Sorry…sorry…sorry!”

“That’s OK, John, we will try again soon.”

My cock slipped out of her and the filled condom hung uselessly off its end. I pulled back and then, winding down the window, threw the semen filled object out and into the hedgerow.

“I’m sorry Jen, I really am.”

She held me and said, “I am sure that happens to everyone on their first time. Now, have you got your second wind yet?” looking down between my legs.

She was right. Faced with her gaping bosoms and wide open legs, my flaccid penis had started to grow again. This was further enhanced when she reached down and began wank me. In fact it was only a matter of seconds before my cock was straining at the leash again and she was saying, “Have you got another Johnny ready?”

I reached into my top pocket and retrieved another. I was now much more adept and quickly slipped it onto my erect cock. Jenny watched and smiled as she held my cock at her opening and pulled me toward her. As she pulled, I thrust and, once again, embedded myself deep into her cunt. This time I withdrew and thrust again – she gasped – I thrust again and again and again. She continued to gasp and thrust back at me. I give a succession of short jabs that only just entered her, but these made her sigh deeply so clearly it wasn’t so much depth as the rubbing sensation in and out around her lips that excited her. This was fine as I could keep this up all day. Only when I tried deep thrusts, did I feel close to cumming. After several minutes I was beginning to feel in control and alternated between deep thrust that mated our pubic hairs and gave me that wonderful feeling and the little jabs that Jenny seemed to like. Eventually she gasped “John, I’m cumming – do it hard please!”

I then thrust hard until she collapsed back into her seat and I continued to thrust for a few more seconds until I came again and collapsed on top of her.

We recuperated together. My cock had shrunk and slipped out of her – and the condom. She laughed when I told her and reached down to draw it out of her hole and hand it to me. I took it and despatched it, like the first one, into the hedgerow.

We both scrambled to get dressed in the small space and then she kissed me and said, “We had better get back.”

We arrived home to mum making her hot chocolate which she took to bed with her. “Have you had a nice time, then?”

“Yeh,! Great,” I said exchanging smiles with Jenny.


The next day was my mother’s market day and I slept late – way after she had gone. In fact, I was awoken when Jenny came into my room. “Wake up sleepy head,” she said as I rolled over to look to see what was making the noise.

Jenny stood naked beside my bed.

“I thought that I would give you a surprise,” she said as she posed provocatively in front of me.

Despite our intimacy I had not seen her naked, or indeed any female naked and she was beautiful. Eighteen year old female bodies are firm and taught. Her breasts stood out proud and her nipples, which I suspect, she had been fondling, were tight little brown peaks.

I lifted the sheets to invite her in.