At eighteen I was six feet one tall, well built and fit. I played rugby for the local club, 'B' team, and was trying for the 'A' team. Like most eighteen year olds I was obsessed with getting laid. And that wasn't as easy as you might think. I blame my upbringing. Despite playing rugby I was shy and awkward around girls. I was brought up to be polite and respectful. As the saying goes 'rugby is a game for thugs played by gentlemen, football is a game for gentlemen played by thugs'.
Because of my size I didn't feel comfortable in small cars, A35's Mini Countryman type. I drove a second hand Transit MkII. It was big and reliable and I had room to move. I also had a mattress in the back artfully covered over with blankets and cushions. Whilst not very successful I was always hopeful.
I'd got to 'first base', as they say in the colonies, and 'second base' even 'third base' often enough BUT I'd never really got a 'home run'. We'd be on the very verge and, being the considerate gentleman, when push came to shove I'd always wait to be asked. I was asked just the once, by a girl who finally got exasperated with my lack of action.
"Well! Are you going to fuck me or what??" she demanded.
We fumbled with the Durex. I got into position and asked if she was sure.
"Just get on with it!" she demanded, "before I change my mind!"
I pushed hard. She screamed loud. I stopped abruptly. She swore and told me to carry on. I did, gingerly. It all made one hell of a mess. We were both virgins. We tried a few times after that but I was always worried about hurting her and after a month we split up. No more tries or home runs.
I picked up Anne, quite literally, on a Saturday lunchtime. A bright sunny day had brought on a sudden, drenching downpour. She was walking down the road doing a good impression of a drowned rat. She heard me approaching, turned and waved. Pulling over to the crown of the road so as not to soak her even more by driving through the puddles I pulled into the lay-by just ahead. Scrambling over the passenger seat I opened the door just as she reached the back of my vehicle.
"May I give you a lift?" I offered noticing that she wasn't a drowned rat at all but a young and very pretty woman despite being soaked to the skin.
"Yes please," she said, "I'm soaked, even my knickers are wet." she added with a naughty smile.
"That's good, I like a girl with wet knickers." I replied without thinking, then kicked myself. Why had I said that? I backed up into the cab making room for her to enter before she had time to change her mind.
"That's rude!" she said as she climbed aboard but she was still smiling.
I apologised instantly then pointed to the back of the van.
"That red sports bag has got a couple of clean towels in it if you want to dry yourself off a bit?" I suggested lamely.
"Thanks," she said stepping through to the back without hesitation. She knelt on the blanket covering the mattress and pulled the bag towards her.
"This is cozy. This where you bring your girlfriend when she has wet knickers?" she asked playfully. She pulled out the towels and, selecting the smaller, started to dry her face.
She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful! She was fit, lithe and even the action of drying her face was utterly breath taking. I was smitten instantly.
"Yeah! I wish. Haven't even got a girlfriend at the moment." I told her ruefully.
She stopped drying her face and looked at me quizically. "That must be a temporary situation, a good looking fella like you." she said as she started to dry her hair vigorously.
Her tits looked gorgeous through her wet top! "There's a couple of clean rugby shirts in the bag, if you would like to put one on until I get you home." I suggested hopefully.
She stopped towelling her hair and looked up as if weighing me up.
"Yes, that would be great. Thanks."
To my utter amazement and delight she took hold of the bottom of her top. She lifted it up, over her head and off then passed it to me. I took the soaking material without taking my eyes off her beautiful bra covered tits. She reached behind her back and a second or two later she passed over her bra. I accepted it soundlessly with my eyes glued to her naked torso. Perfection!
"What? Never seen a pair of tits before?" she challenged.
I shook myself back to reality. They were still there. Utter perfection. "Pardon?" I asked lamely.
"I said," she said patiently, "have you never seen a pair of tits before?" Like the gentle rebuke about my liking girls with wet knickers she was smiling up at me.
"I have," I agreed tentatively "but not on a girl as beautiful as you nor tits so perfect as yours."
"I bet you say that to all the girls," she said as she stroked my towel over them seemingly careless of how erotic it looked. "Would you mind squeezing some of the water out of those." she pointed at her top and bra.
