I was a very late starer when it came to the joys of sex, not counting the unaccompanied kind of course. My breakthrough moment arrived most unexpectedly, one Saturday morning back in the mid 1980's. I was desperate, 22 years old and I'd never even felt a girl's tits. I was always a bit awkward in the presence of females and having been to an all-boys school had very little contact with members of the opposite sex. Consequently, I spent a lot of time masturbating. First thing in the morning when I woke up with the inevitable tent pole, or before I went to sleep. Taking a shower or a bath, the simple act of washing my cock and balls would invariably trigger an erection.
Usually I'd fantasise about Emma, the girl (well 30-year-old woman) next door. She was gorgeous. She often popped in for a coffee and a chat with my mum and sisters. I could tell my stepfather, Geoff fancied her too, the dirty old sod! She knew it too and seemed to enjoy the attention, I couldn't tell if she was genuinely flirting with him or just a prick tease. Either way it annoyed me! I found myself staring at her longingly but when she looked in my direction, I'd avert my eyes and invariable blush. Occasionally, when our eyes did meet, I thought perhaps I sensed a spark, a glimmer of mutual attraction. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but then again maybe she fancied me back. If only I had a bit more confidence...If only...
I used to fantasise that she'd pop round when I was alone. "They'll be back soon." I'd lie, knowing they'd be out for a couple of hours. I'd put the kettle on and make Emma a coffee and we'd get talking. In this alternative reality I wasn't a shy, awkward loser, but self-assured and confident. Sometimes we'd have wild, frantic sex on the kitchen table, before we'd even finished our coffee. Sometimes we'd talk for a while, before going into the lounge, or up to my bedroom to make slow, passionate love. The variations were as limitless as my imagination.
I longed for just one of these dreams to come true. In the meantime, all I had for company were the thoughts in my head and an old, dog-eared edition of Men Only magazine, featuring women with hair between their legs and natural breasts (This was long before the days of internet porn and shaved pussies).
Sometimes I'd lie naked on my bed, staring at mthe well-thumbed pages. I knew every photo of every naked body intimately. One particular model, Crystal, was more pawed over than the others, the pages she adorned showing the inevitable signs of wear and tear. This applied to the centre-page spread in particular. Crystal sat reclining on a kitchen chair, with her blouse open, revealing her firm perfectly formed breasts, her skirt yanked up around her waist, knickers around her ankles and legs wide apart. She stared out of the pages provocatively, one hand spreading her dark hairy bush, with the fingers of her other hand either side of her erect, bulbous clit. She described in the accompanying text, which was now illegible, due to the pages having stuck together (following one particularly copious and forceful ejaculation), how she would happily play with herself for hours, insisting she didn't need a man to fulfil her desires. The thought of watching a woman masturbate, became one of my earliest and most deep-seated fantasies. The notion of going next door to ask Emma if we could borrow some milk or sugar, or whatever, and catching her at the kitchen table, fingering herself just like Crystal, was one I'd entertained more than once. Emma was, I realised, quite a similar physical type to Crystal, maybe that's why I found her so hot. Both had smallish, but perfectly formed breasts, with large prominent nipples. Emma often didn't wear a bra and her on these happy occasions her nipples were impossible to miss. Both had longish dark hair and their bodies were slender, but curvy. Whether or not Emma's bush was as dark and dense as Krystal's, I had no idea, but that was how I imagined it...Oh how I wanted to find out! Sadly, I knew that was never likely to happen.
Practically speaking, having three siblings (an older brother and two sisters) a mother and a stepfather, lurking around the house, masturbation was mostly a functional affair, so generally I had to satisfy myself with a quick one off the wrist. However, on the rare occasions the house was empty, I'd take the opportunity to indulge in that most enjoyable of pastimes, a long, slow wank.
My favourite way to masturbate was in a hot bath. Unfortunately this depended on there being enough hot water in the tank, which wasn't that often, so a leisurely soak while I stroked my cock was something of a treat. I didn't want to risk getting my precious 'wank mag' wet, so without Krystal for company my bath time thoughts invariably turned to Emma.
This particular day I was in luck. Everyone had gone out after a quick shower, or in my scumbag of a brother's case, not bothering to wash at all.
I turned on the taps. My cock already stiff in anticipation, tragically this was as exciting as it got. I lowered myself into the steaming, hot bath. I'd learnt to make it as hot as I could bear, otherwise I'd end up in lukewarm water, which wasn't the best environment for an orgasm. The hot water also helped my cock and balls swell to their maximum size and naturally the more engorged I was, the better it felt.
I slid my soapy hands slowly up and down the shaft of my erect penis, creating a lather, peeling back my foreskin and caressing the rim of my helmet. Expertly, and I had certainly achieved expert status, I varied the speed and pressure, squeezing my shaft and gently caressing my shiny tip. I could have cum in a matter of seconds had I wanted, but I'd learnt the art of stopping myself just before ejaculating. I reckon on a good day I could edge for about half an hour.
I'd probably been edging for about 10 minutes, when I heard the back door being opened.
Emma?
"Anyone home?" A voice called out. It was my sister.
Alice was just over a year older than me, and dare I say it, she was hot.
My friends all wanted to get inside her knickers.
I confess, I'd had more than the occasional inappropriate thought myself, especially when she was wearing her tight pyjamas or skimpy nighty. It was impossible not to stare at her firm round buttocks and curvy young breasts, which were, as my friends often remarked, "Fucking great tits!"
I'm sure she'd caught me stealing a look on numerous occasions, but to be fair she'd never objected. In fact, sometimes I was sure she was deliberately leaning across me, or bending down, so it was difficult not to take in the view. But having sexual thoughts about your sister wasn't healthy, so I did my best to repress them.
"Hello! Anybody there?" She called out, as she started up the stairs.
I didn't answer. Should I say anything?
The bathroom door was unlocked.
What if she came in and caught me? The idea made my head swim.
Would she be shocked, disgusted, amused...aroused?
I decided to keep quiet. My heart pounded with excitement as my hand slid up and down the shaft of my cock. The possibility of my sister catching me masturbating in the bath was exhilarating. The floorboards creaked as she approached the door. I held my breath.
I stopped stroking in case she heard the water splashing. I lay there, the palm of my hand wrapped around my pulsating pole, still allowing my thumb to slide gently over my swollen tip. I was desperate for her to come in and catch me.
My pulse raced as the sound of her footsteps grew louder, then stopped. I held my breath, there was a click and the door handle turned. My heart skipped a beat.
Alice appeared in the doorway. Initially she didn't notice me, waving her hand in front of face, no doubt surprised by the steamy atmosphere. I just lay there, motionless, hand on cock, waiting for her to see me.
She turned her head and shrieked, taking a step backwards.
"Jesus, Adam, you scared the shit out of me! I thought everyone was out. You could have given me a heart atta..."
She paused and her eyes widened. "Oh my God!" She gawped. "Are you playing with yourself?"
