This continues exactly from where 60s 2 left off. So far:-
Jenna and I had nearly been caught in a compromising position by her older, married sister, Paula. We were both naked, in the pool house, exploring the mysteries of each other’s bodies, but had not had sex although it got pretty close. As a result of a previous joke she now calls my penis Harry.
Paula’s words hit home hard.
“I don’t want to be aunty Paula.”
I am quite sure she didn’t, but I’m even more certain that Jenna didn’t want to be a mother and I certainly didn’t want to be a father. In that era it would have been a ‘had to get married’ situation and my education was far from complete. Frankly it would have been a complete disaster for both of us, such were the attitudes of the day.
What if Jenna had let me go a bit further and had been willing to actually have sex? There is no doubt that my young cock had definitely got the message. Could I have resisted if it had been on offer? We had both been pretty wound up, and I suspect that mother nature would have had her way. Erections don’t think!
Say we had just actually done it. Just imagine! The wait for the next period. What if it didn’t come. Was she always regular, or could she sometimes just be late? These are not subjects we talked about in those days, unless of course, you had to.
What about the future? Was it possible we were going to get into that situation again? Two sexually mature people playing with fire, or even Russian roulette. Nature pretty well guaranteed that we were going to hit the jackpot sooner or later. Not that I’m assuming Jenna would even allow it, but what if?
I resolved to get hold of some condoms, or johnnies as they were known then, but how. We lived very remotely. The nearest village was within range but the pharmacist was a family friend, probably of her family as well. Even if I made sure he wasn’t serving, could I face putting ‘a packet of three’ on the counter in front of his female assistant. I’d die of embarrassment.
I could just imagine the conversation later in the chemist shop.
“You know so and so’s lad?”
“Yea, him.”
“Well he came in today and bought some, ahem, Durex.”
“No! I wonder where he plans to use them.”
“Well there’s not much option down his way.”
“You mean ‘her’?”
“Well, who else?”
“She wouldn’t though, would she? She’s such a well brought up girl and I doubt she’d do it before she was at least engaged.”
The cerebral cinema ran on and got more and more embarrassing with every imagined exchange. No I would have to make my purchase elsewhere.
As luck would have it, my mother wanted to go shopping in a big town, well away from where we were known. She did show some surprise when I expressed an interest and wanted to go with her. Normally shopping and teenage boys do not go hand in hand.
We arrived, parked the car, and arranged to meet again in a couple of hours. I eventually singled out a chemist shop as my target and walked in. I had only been round the shelves once to try to locate the ‘johnnies’ when a very attractive young lady came up and said.
“Can I help you?”
Oh fuck! I can hardly say I want a packet of johnnies. She’ll know I’m planning to: well yes, to fuck. She was young, she was pretty. I didn’t have time to register her ring fingers but probably not married and therefore almost certainly a virgin, and I wanted to buy contraceptives. The embarrassment. So I bought a tube of toothpaste and left. While I was paying I noticed the johnnies were all on the shelf behind the till, Durex, Featherlight and several others.
OK, so maybe I’m going to have to actually ask! I don’t recall how many other chemists I checked out that day, but the answer was always the same. They were all kept behind the till, so I would definitely have to ask.
I eventually located a chemist with a middle aged lady serving. I thought, she doesn’t know me and she’ll never see me again, so what’s the problem? I approached the till.
“Yes, can I help?”
Arggggg the agony of it!
“A packet of featherlight please!”
She turned round to ‘that’ shelf and said.
“Three or twelve?”
Twelve? TWELVE? I’m a virgin. I’ve never used one before. Twelve, you must be joking.
“Mmm three please.”
She reached for the packet and, mercifully, popped it into a little brown paper bag just as the next customer reached the counter. Did she see? Oh this is so embarrassing! Everyone in the world seems to know that I am planning to have a fuck. Can they tell that it’s also going to be my first?
Ironically I am not really ‘planning’ to fuck. I am pretty sure that Jenna won’t allow it but, just in case, I’m prepared. Besides, how do I explain to her that I’ve got johnnies. The implication is surely that I am assuming she is ‘that type of girl’ and would probably never speak to me again. Why is life so complicated?
The summer rolled on and, in spite of being nearly caught by Paula, we enjoyed each other’s company at the pool and in the fields round about. Usually we stayed fully clothed or very nearly so, until one summer’s afternoon when we took a picnic to some nearby ruins.
We spread a picnic blanket on the lush, un-mowed grass and ate our sandwiches. As the heat of the sun and the effect of the food took its toll we lolled in the grass talking about this and that and nothing very much.
“When do you head off for uni?” Was the reality check she came up with.
“September.” I replied as I glanced across at her. Our eyes locked. She smiled showing her dimples to maximum effect. I leaned towards her, she leaned towards me, our eyes were still locked together as our lips met.
It was one of those glorious kisses that went on for ages, tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths, hands starting to wander, exploring the secrets of each other’s bodies. Palms running over the smooth curve of firm buttocks. Hoping to explore under a T shirt. Success! A soft warm breast. The pressure on the front of my trousers as her hand stroked my obvious erection.
My hand made its way up her skirt. Hers found my zip. I ran my hand up her thigh all the way to the elasticised leg of her knickers. She unzipped me. My finger slid inside, to be greeted by the warm slipperiness of a sexually excited woman. My cock sprang free from its cotton prison. Then suddenly it all stopped as she broke the silence.
“Paula’s right you know.
“We must be careful.
“I really want to do it with you. I want you to be my first.
“But we can’t unless…”
“Unless I get ‘something’?” I filled in the blank space.
“Yes, until then.”
I was way too embarrassed to admit I had ‘something’ already, although my throbbing cock and millions of years of evolution were aching to satisfy the urge to reproduce.
“I will.” I whispered, relieved that the problem of why I had johnnies had gone away, but with a raging erection that had only one cure.
We petted. We snogged. We explored each other. I rubbed her how she had showed me at the pool house that day. She played with my cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth really gently. It just got sexier and sexier. Then the inevitable happened. I ejaculated.