I was 21 years old, my sex life to that time had been miserable, I hadn't begun puberty until I was almost 16, by then of course, it was all I could think of, but getting any, was a different story.
It was the 1960's and the world hadn't yet reached the free love stage. The pill wasn't something everyone could get hold of and condoms took a lot of courage to purchase, with the result, girls weren't all that keen to take any risks. Well that's how it was in my part of the world anyway.
I recall dreaming about naked women, obsessing about being with a girl, but despite all attempts, it simply wasn't happening for me. I'd managed the odd grope, even one attempt at the ripe old age of 19, which was over before it started. You can imagine how frustrated I was.
One evening I'd driven into the City to pick up my girlfriend who'd been working late. I'd arrived early and was sitting in my car listening to the radio whilst I waited, when an older, very well dressed man, approached me. He asked directions and I tried to explain how to get to where he wanted to go, but it was a bit too complex, so as I was early and it wasn't that far, I offered to take him there.
He got into the car, he asked me what I was doing, I explained and he then started to ask me very personal questions about my girlfriend and myself. I looked at him, but being young and very naïve, I decided he was way too old for sex and thought he was just trying to be cool with the way the conversation was going, so I decided to humour him. I've reflected on that decision a lot, I guess when you're 21, anyone over 30 looks 60 and I suppose that was my first mistake.
The conversation went to lesbians, he told me a story about two lesbians licking each others butts, but to a young innocent person, with absolutely no real sexual experience, other than wanking, and dreaming, that story to me, at the time, was gross.
