Chapter 3

The drinking age in the UK is 18. It might be different now but certainly at end of the 1970s and start of the 80s, it wasn’t difficult in a small rural town like mine to find pubs who would serve 14 year olds like me. As long as you were sensible, didn’t draw attention to yourself and knew when to make oneself scarce if the local Constabulary made an unexpected entrance, you were generally OK. Beer, mind, Cider too, but never spirits.

Anyway it was Boxing Day. My girlfriend’s Dad had gone to his favourite local for drinks and he told Jayne to bring me along when I arrived. By the time we walked into the pub, he’d been drinking for 4 or 5 hours. He was merry, loud and cheerful, but not causing any trouble, much like most of the regulars in the pub that day.

One of his mates had to go back home, and he received some good natured ribbing about being under his ‘wife’s thumb!’. The Dad started talking to us two then. He explained that he’d never get called home by his wife,, Jayne’s Mum, because he knew how to keep her happy and satisfied. I remember grinning as Jayne just said ‘Dad!’. He then started asking us questions.

“How long have you been going together for?”

“About six months”

“Make sure you always use contraception. We’re too young to be grandparents!”

“Well, actually, we haven’t...”

“No contraception?”

“Had sex”

“Oh. That’s surprised me. Your Mum and I thought you were. Your sister said she caught you doing something”

“Just oral”.

We were both blushing and very embarrassed at this point. There was silence for a moment.

“Well, when you do decide to do it, remember there are always condoms in the cupboard in our bathroom”

We didn’t like to say we knew this, knew about ‘The Joy of Sex’ the lube as well as the white vibrator in the cupboard too!

That evening, Jayne’s Mum took her younger sisters to the Outdoor Ice Rink about an hour away. Her Dad was fast asleep in his chair in front of the fireplace in the lounge. Snoring away, he was going to be asleep for ages, we thought.

We stole quietly upstairs and into her parent’s bathroom. There were two large boxes of condoms with German writing on the boxes. We took a handful of condoms - the optimism of youth! - and undressed in record time in her bedroom. We’d had the sex education class at school where you rolls condom onto a banana so we knew the principles involved, but an erect penis isn’t the same as a ripe banana so there was a second, more successful, attempt with a further condom before we were satisfied. I knew those extra condoms would be useful!

We didn’t bother with foreplay. Jayne lay back on her bed, her legs wide open and her thick black bush looking beautiful in the middle. Her breasts were 32b, small but perfectly formed as I used to call them, and her nipples were standing out tall. I pressed my penis to her vagina and gently pushed my tip inside her. She gasped and grabbed me. I pushed further and then pulled back. I pushed in again and pulled back a little, and it was in my third push that she cried out and I went even deeper into her. She had tears in her eyes briefly, and I kept going.

After a few minutes, and I wish I could say it was longer, I ejaculated into the condom. I cuddled with her and she started to masturbate. I moved my face between her legs and went down on her as she held my face in place. There was a small amount of blood but not a lot. Eventually she started to writhe against my face, masturbating herself against me and she had her orgasm.

I remembered to remove the condom and we both stared at the cum caught inside. We got dressed and went downstairs to find her Dad awake and stoking the fire.

“Better?” he said.

What could he mean? :)