Every morning I sit in my chair and look around my room.

I’ve been in this place for five years, and each morning, after I’ve got my breath back from the struggle to sit up in bed, I take a sip of water and swing myself into my wheelchair.

As I look around the room, I sometimes catch sight of myself in the mirror. I usually try to blink my eyes as they near the wardrobe, but today I see myself, and as always when this happens, I wonder what happened.

I used to be so tall and virile. I played football and cricket. I ran up mountains and ... and I always had a girl on my arm.

Now ... ahh shit ... now I’m stuck in this home.

Soon the pretty, young nurse ... what’s her name ... oh gosh ... I can remember every detail of Laura’s body. Laura who I knew for those happy years in the mid-70’s.

We met in that long hot summer of 1976, nearly 50 years ago. Laura with her big breasts and the cutest dimples in her cheeks. Her wonderful smile and full lips ... I can remember her ... but can I remember the nurse’s name...

Oh yeah, Natalie! She’s so pretty. Natalie will be here soon to wheel me to the breakfast room, then onwards to the lounge, or if it’s a nice day, the garden.

This is a nice place, surely it must be expensive, but Jordan, my son, can afford it. Paying for a nice nursing home for me allows him to assuage his guilt for rarely visiting.

Jordan, one of lord knows how many children I’ve left in my wake. His mum was wife number three, Trina, a fiery redhead, so beautiful, but so hard to live with.

I met Trina during a football match. She was dating the captain of the opposing team. We chatted on the side-lines during breaks in play. After the game, she came home with me. This caused some friction between our teams, and a fight during, and after our next match a couple of months later. The fight even made the headlines in the sports pages of a couple of national papers.

Trina was wonderful, tall, slim, her tiny, sensitive breasts were peppered with freckles. I sometimes drew pictures on her boobs, joining the freckles with a washable marker pen.

One day I picked up the wrong pen, the fight afterwards as she tried to scrub away the ink was one of our worst.

After Jordan’s birth our fights subsided somewhat, but we never again found the same levels of passion in the bedroom, we soon drifted apart.

Natalie, my nurse ... I think she’s called Natalie ... she has a name badge over her left breast ... wonderful breasts, full and firm, they entrance me as she moves in her quiet, efficient way.

Laura had full breasts. Laura had everything ... looks, poise ... a fine figure ... humour and intelligence ... and ... passion. More than anything, Laura had passion.

We met in Blackpool.

I finished school at 15 and spent that summer working on the Pleasure Beach, manning the Big Dipper. The hours were long, I started at 7am, walking the whole track first thing, up and down, checking the ride was safe and secure. The rest of the day I helped people out of the cars at the end of the ride.

That was the best part of the job, because sometimes the girls were a little unsteady, so needed a helping hand.

That’s how I met Laura.

She’d ridden the Big Dipper with her sister ... Monica ... Laura looked pale as her car pulled up beside me. I lifted the safety bar and held my hand out towards her. She gripped my hand tightly as she clambered out on unsteady legs, muttering curses at her sister.

Her eyes struck me first.

No, that’s not true, her wonderfully large breasts struck me first, but when she turned to face me, her green eyes bored deep into my soul and I was in love.

As luck would have it, the 1pm bell rang as Laura stepped onto solid ground.

“Ahh, that’s my signal,” I told her, “it’s my dinner break, can I walk you down to the cafeteria for a cup of tea?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” she replies.

“I’m going on again,” Monica says as she flounces off to join the queue.

Laura looked much better after her first cup of tea, and after her second cup and a slice of cake she was responding positively to my flirting.

“I’m staying at the Mirabelle guest house,” she tells me as she wanders off to find Monica, “you know, if you want to chat some more...”

“I finish at 6, but I’ll be all sweaty.”

“We have a bath in our room...” she told me as she saw her sister and dashed to catch her up.

“How are you today, Kenny?” Natalie asked as she breezed into my room, opening the curtains and window to let in some air.

“All the better for seeing you...” I replied, the same answer I’d given every day since Natalie started working here a few months back. It wasn’t a lie either, I always felt better after seeing her warm smile.

Breakfast was the usual, cereal, toast and jam, tea. I’m not allowed to drink coffee anymore; the absolute worst part of my condition is a complete ban on caffeine. I could have decaf coffee, but I’ve never seen the point of decaf coffee or alcohol-free beer.

It’s a lovely, warm morning, so Natalie wheels me out into the garden, where she parks me up next to my copy of The Guardian and my reading glasses.

The plan for a bath in Laura’s room was scuppered by the sign on the door of her guest house “Strictly no men allowed in bedrooms”.

I asked for Laura at the reception, they sent a porter to her room and she met me in the tiny bar.

“I don’t think I’m welcome here,” I told her.

“I’m so sorry, our mum picked the hotel, I think she’s trying to keep us chaste. It would be perfect tonight; Monica is out with some guy she met at the Penny Falls in the arcade.”

“It’s not a problem,” I assured her, “do you want to go for some fish and chips and a walk on the pier?”

“That would be lovely, Kenny.”

“I don’t live far from here, can I pop home first to change?”

“Do they allow girls in your room?” Laura asked, grinning.

“There’s no sign forbidding it.”

That summer I was living in a rooming house. I had my own room but shared a bathroom with the other three lads living on my floor. They were all decent guys, they had to be, Mrs Maple didn’t take any lodgers who would cause trouble.

Speaking of Mrs Maple, she was in the lounge as I opened the street door. The lounge was the only room she allowed smoking, not a problem for me, as I’d never smoked, but she did, and the other lads did when they could afford a pack.

I popped my head through the doorway, “hi Mrs Maple, I’m going out tonight, so I won’t be in for tea.”

“That’s alright dear, we’re just having a cold meat salad, I’m sure the others will eat your portion. Are you going anywhere nice?”

“Just for a walk with my friend, Laura.”

“Oh my, have you got a girlfriend?”

“He might have, once I’ve made sure he’s worth the effort,” Laura replied.

Mrs Maple stubbed out her cigarette and rose from the sofa, not an easy task, most of the springs in the sofa have made it their life’s work to trap anyone who dares to sit on it.

“Come in honey, let me see the girl that’s won my Kenny’s heart.”

Laura stepped around me and into the room.

“Oh my, aren’t you pretty...”

And she was, very pretty. She’d changed clothes after leaving the Pleasure Beach. Before she’d worn a yellow dress and black plimsolls, now she wore a white dress with large black polka dots, and black court shoes with white ankle socks. The dress was tight across her chest with a flared skirt, she looked wonderful.

“You know my policy about having girls in your room?”

“Err ... no, I don’t,” I stammered, flushing.

Mrs Maple laughed, “don’t panic sweety, I’m not a prude like the women who run the guest houses on the front...”

“Like the Mirabelle!” Laura interrupted.

“Yes, like the Mirabelle,” Mrs Maple smiled, “my policy is just that you keep the noise to a minimum, and maybe play the radio so the other boys don’t get jealous. If the girl stays the night, she’s allowed a free breakfast the first morning, afterwards you must pay for her meals.”

Laura turned to me, looking me up and down before she turned back to Mrs Maple, “is breakfast more than toast and marmalade?”

“My boys have hard jobs, they get a full cooked breakfast every morning,” she replied, proudly.

“I think I might be stopping, provided Kenny passes the test.”

“What’s the test?” I asked, nervous.

“That’s a secret, I’ll tell you if you pass,” she replied breezily as she skipped past me and up the stairs.

I followed, pulling my room key from my pocket on the way.

Natalie woke me at noon, she had my lunch on a tray, a couple of cheese sandwiches, a pot of yoghurt and a glass of milk.

Placing my lunch on the table, she wheeled me around so the afternoon sun wouldn’t be in my eyes.

“Have you finished with the newspaper?” she asked.

“Aye lass, all done.”

“Great, Peter’s itching to do the crossword. Do you want me to bring your book?”

“No need, I think I’ll have a snooze for a bit.”

My room wasn’t much, just a bed, wardrobe and desk, the floor bare apart from a rug next to the bed.

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” Laura laughed.

“It’s not much, but it’s actually better than back home. I share a room with two of my brothers. So at least I’ve got some privacy here.”

Laura stepped in close, she leant forwards a little and kissed me. I was momentarily shocked. I’d never been kissed before, so I didn’t know how to react. For the lack of anything else to do, I opened my mouth and followed Laura’s lead.

We kissed for a few minutes before Laura pulled away, she licked her lips and smiled.

“You passed the test,” she said simply, “why don’t you grab some clean clothes and pay a visit to the bathroom. You might want to have a cold shower or something, we can’t go out in public with you showing that bulge.”

I looked down, horrified at what I saw.

“Ahh, sorry...” I mumbled as I pulled a clean shirt and pants from the wardrobe, grabbed my washbag and hurried out of the room.

When I woke up later, I was back in my room. Natalie was turning on my TV and tuning it to BBC One for Pointless.

“Good afternoon sleepyhead, have you been having nice dreams?”

“I have, thank you.”

“Fantastic. We’ve got shepherds pie for tea, do you want to eat here, or should I wheel you down to the dining room when it’s ready.”

“I think I’ll eat in here if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem,” Natalie replied sweetly.

Laura held my hand as we walked down the promenade, our fish and chips tightly wrapped in newspaper.

We ate them at the end of the Central Pier, fighting off the greedy seagulls that flew around our heads, relentlessly trying to steal our chips.

I threw the scraps of batter and the last few chips across the pier, where the seagulls fought each other, and tossed the wrappings into the bin.

Laura turned to me, she was smiling warmly, “don’t you want to know what the test was?” she asked.

“I’ve no idea what I did to pass it, whatever it was.”

“Your breath, it doesn’t smell of cigarettes. I hate boys who smoke.”

“That was my first kiss,” I told her, a little ashamed at my inexperience, but I thought I’d better be honest, to explain any failings in technique.

“I’ve not kissed many boys, well, only two really, and you’re the second.”

I must have looked surprised.

“I’m not a tart you know. I’m 18, I’m allowed to kiss boys.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought you were very good, or at least I think you were good, I enjoyed the kiss.”

“Thank you, me and Monica practise a lot, she’s a lot more experienced than me ... she is a tart,” Laura added, laughing.

We kissed for a while; I enjoyed it more now I’d lost the fear I was doing it all wrong. We only stopped when someone nearby coughed disapprovingly.

“How old are you?” Laura asked as we walked hand in hand along the promenade.

“I’m 15, why do you ask?”

“Because I fancy a beer, I’m old enough to drink, but the pubs around here won’t serve girls.”

“Do I look 18?” I asked.

“I think you do,” she replied.

We bumped into Monica as we walked to a pub near my rooming house.

“Hey Laura,” Monica cried, “who’s the boy?”

“This is Kenny, he helped me off the Big Dipper earlier.”

“Oh yeah, you look different when you’re not covered in grease.”

“Are you on your own,” Laura asked, sounding surprised.

“Not for long,” Monica replied, grinning as she unfastened an extra button on her blouse.

I checked Monica out while she chatted with her sister. Monica had bigger boobs than Laura, but her face wasn’t as open and friendly. I preferred Laura, she looked more casually sexy than Monica.

“We’re going for a drink,” Laura said to Monica, “do you want to join us?”

Monica seemed to be considering her offer until a man walked past, she looked at him for a moment then decided she was going home with him instead.

“I told you,” Laura said, shaking her head, “she’s a slut.”

I had no trouble getting served, Laura had half a pint of light ale, I had a pint of mild. We took them to a table in the corner near the jukebox.

Laura asked if she could borrow 10p, I gave her a coin and she put it in the jukebox, a moment later, the pub was treated to Abba’s current hit, Dancing Queen.

The pub was dark, we were in a corner, and soon we were kissing again.

After a few minutes Laura moved my hand from her knee to her breasts, “you can play with them if you like, nobody can see.”

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I cupped her breast in my palm and ran my thumb over her nipple, which responded by growing erect in about a millisecond.

“I’m not wearing a bra,” Laura whispered, “they’re extra wobbly tonight, ohhh that’s nice,” she added, gasping.

We finished our drinks and I was about to get up to order a second round when Laura placed her hand on my arm, stopping me.

“mmm, maybe I’d better get these, you’re showing exactly how excited you are.”

I blushed as I looked down.

Laura pecked me on the cheek, “it’s OK sweetie, you’re a boy, boys get excited when we kiss them.”

She returned quickly, carrying a glass in each hand, clutching a bag of crisps with her teeth. She opened her mouth and dropped the crisps in my lap, before placing the drinks on the copper-topped table.

We chatted as we shared the crisps and drank out beer. She told me about home; she lived with her parents and Monica in Bolton.

“That’s not far from my home,” I told her, “I’m from Bury.”

“The home of the black pudding,” she laughed.

“Yeah, and the world famous Bury market,” I replied.

“You said you had to share a room with two brothers,” she asked, “how many brothers and sisters have you got?”

“There’s loads of us,” I told her, “I’ve got three sisters and four brothers, and as if the house isn’t full enough, my gran lives with us as well.”

“Is that why you’ve moved out?”

“Yeah, I needed some space, and my friend Paul said it would be fun to work in Blackpool for the summer.”

“Oh, where’s Paul?”

“He decided it wasn’t as much fun as he’d hoped, so he’s gone home.”

“Oh dear,” Laura replied, “I guess hard work isn’t for everyone.”

“Why are you here with just your sister? Are your parents home alone?”

She gave a dry laugh, “mum and dad are ironing out some issues. Monica has been paying a bit too much attention to dad, and he’s been responding. I told you she’s a slut.”

“Ahhh, that’s awkward,” I replied as I finished my second drink.

“Yeah, awkward. She’s getting married soon as well.”

“To your dad?”

“No silly. To Jack, her boyfriend, unless he sees sense between now and September.”

“I can see why someone would like Monica, but you’re a lot prettier.”

“Are you just saying that to get in my knickers?”

“What? No! I’m saying it because it’s true, you’re a lot prettier than she is.”

“It’s a good job you think that, because I want you in my knickers ... shall we go for a walk on the beach?”

Natalie took my dinner tray away after I’d finished, then wheeled me down to the bathroom. I could wash myself but needed a hand into and out of the bath. Afterwards she dried me and helped me into my pyjamas.

Back in my room I stayed in my wheelchair as I watched a film on TV.

On the beach, Laura held my hand as we ran through the sand. We laughed as we ran, enjoying the sunset, the sea air, the joy of new love.

She took me under the pier, where she kicked off her shoes and pulled down her knickers.

“We can do this properly later, but right now I need your dick in my pussy,” she panted, lust taking over as she reached for my belt.

Well, not the most romantic way to lose my cherry, but I wasn’t about to argue.

Laura lay on the sand, I knelt between her legs, she sensed my hesitation.

“Am I your first?” She asked.

I nodded.

“Me too, but I’ve watched Monica, I know what to do,” she told me, “are you hard?”

I nodded and she lifted her head to check, “oh shit! You’re bigger than I expected. Monica used a vibrator on me once, but you’re much bigger, mmm, babies come out of there, so you must fit,” she mused.

Placing my cock between her legs, I pushed it against her pussy lips and, taking a deep breath, I pushed forwards.

Laura squeaked as I slipped inside, “shit, that hurts, don’t move for a bit...”

I held still, my arms either side of Laura, pressed into the sand, until she lifted her head and kissed my lips tenderly, “it’s OK lover, you can fuck me now.”

Like I said, I was a virgin, and unlike Laura, I’d not had the benefit of watching any of my sisters having sex, so I was unsure what to do. Somehow though, my body did know what to do, and soon I was sliding in and out of Laura as if we’d been making love for years.

She urged me on with curses and blasphemous profanities. The sordid nature of her behaviour spurred me on, and I drove into her harder and faster until I could hold back no longer.

“Don’t cum in me!” she screamed as I was about to do exactly that.

I pulled out and Laura sprung forward, taking my aching cock in her mouth, she finished me off with her lips. I almost blacked out as I came, she gripped my arse with both hands as she sucked me dry.

“Oh my god,” Laura exclaimed as we came down, “that was amazing.”

I wasn’t sure I could speak yet, so I just nodded as I tucked myself back in my pants.

Laura stood and kissed me hard as I ran my hands down her back, brushing off the sand.

“Can I come back to your room tonight?” She asked as our lips parted.

I blinked rapidly, still not completely sure this wasn’t all a dream, “err, yeah, of course you can.”

The chip shop on the pier was still open, so we clambered out from under the pier and walked along the beach a little until we found some steps up to the prom, then walked back to the pier. We shared a cone of chips while we lost a few pennies in the arcade, then walked hand in hand back to Mrs Maple’s rooming house.

Mrs Maple was still up, drinking gin with Patrick from the room across the landing from mine, she jumped up and clapped her hands when she saw Laura.