When I was 13, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend with big tits.
Thirteen was a great age. I woke up one morning with an erection! I was on my way to becoming a man. We guys had talked about all the sex stuff. We were ready!
I found my father's stash of girly magazines. There were all sorts of naked women in them. (Well semi-naked women, this was the early 60's after all.) My biggest thrill was breasts. They were all bare and large.
Oh all right, they were baring everything, but between their legs. It seems they never showed that mysterious spot that all 13 year olds wanted to see.
How was a guy supposed to learn about the female anatomy, if everything down there was hidden? A couple of the guys had baby sisters and watched when their dirty diapers were changed. This didn't help at all and besides if their Moms caught them. Wow, were they in trouble.
I figured out that there was nothing of interest between a woman's legs, so I'd stop trying to peek. (Later on I was to realize how wrong I was.)
I developed a fixation with boobs!
I was always trying to see down the tops of my mother's friends. It got so that I could tell them apart without ever seeing their faces. I was getting to be an expert.
I tried the same with girls my age, but there was nothing in their shirts yet. So I went back to trying to "older" woman.
When I was 16 I got a girlfriend with big tits, but there was no passion.
Sarah was my first girl friend. We sat next to each other on the school bus, we sat together at lunch, and we just sort of hung around together. Now Sara was an early bloomer. She developed breasts of great size, while the rest of the girls her age were just starting.
I was in heaven! She was embarrassed. I wanted to show them off, she wanted to wear baggy sweaters and hide.
We dated all through high school. We learned to kiss. (She didn't like it-no French, I loved it, ) I learned what "blue balls" were. I learned to take long showers with lots of soap.
We attend all the dances. She liked the fast dances, I liked the slow ones. When she felt my "stiffie" during a slow dance, it was the last slow dance I ever had with her for a long time.
She called me a pervert.
At the Senior Ball we had a good time. We danced both fast and slow songs, kissed in the corner, and did all kinds of teenage stuff. We had fun together and I thought I might get lucky.
I really don't know how it happened, but she agreed to go with me to party after the Senior Ball. This party was held at a kid's house whose parents were out of town.
I got Sara to drink a lot of wine and take a few hits on a joint. We both got mellow. I had my hands all over her breasts, and she didn't stop me.
Actually she just laid there like she was dead and let me feel her up.
When I finally got up the nerve to place my hand between her legs, I embarrassed myself. I came in my pants. I was way too excited!
Sarah wanted to go home after that. I didn't get my usual kiss when I dropped her off that night.
We didn't really date any more after that.
So I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.
In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide.
Angelia was my college sweetheart. We met in the Student Union and found we had a few common courses together.
My first look at her personality happened when she got a "C" on a course paper. She cried, she yelled, she threw things. Shit man it was only a "C"! She didn't need to get that worked up.
Too make matters worse; I got an "A" on my paper.
"How could you? I'm so embarrassed," she yelled as she threw a book at me.
The rest of the semester was hard on me. She was a constant embarrassment to me with her actions. But she was also "hotter than Hell". She had a body to die for, and she liked to show it off.
She wore tight sweaters and tops, with no bra. Her skirts were short enough that if she bent over, everything showed. She was a walking sex pot.
.... There is more of this story ...