Chapter 1

I will always remember my first time. Well, let’s be honest guys don’t we all, that moment when you stop being a boy and become a man?

Well, this story is all about my first time and the education I was given by some amazing ladies.

So first, let me paint you a picture of myself. I was basically your boringly average, simple teenager, into sports and music. The school I went to was mixed gender, so I knew plenty of girls, but I was far too shy to chat any of them up. At our school, the boys hung around with the boys and the girls hung around with the girls. It had always been that way and I was sure it always would be.

I lived with my mom and dad in a small town in the Midlands area of the United Kingdom. I had just turned fifteen years old and was now being trusted to go to the local corner shop on my own. The corner shop had always been a mecca for me for two reasons: the great selection of chocolate bars and sweets they had on offer and for the shopkeeper, the amazing Mrs Brown.

Now Mrs Brown was a big woman, a really big woman. She was not fat just well-built.

My eyes were always attracted to her immense bosom while she and my folks chatted. Every time she laughed, that bosom shook and shimmied, and Mrs Brown laughed a lot!

Most of the lads I knew preferred to go to Browns rather than the local Woolworths for their treats just to get a glimpse at Mrs Brown’s big boobs.

She also had the most amazing smile, a smile that seemed to light up the whole shop; a smile that I always dreamed she saved just for me.

She always wore blouses that seemed to show a large expanse of cleavage and her tight skirts showed off her big butt and strong thighs. I guessed her age at about 40-45; she had rosy cheeks, long blonde curly hair, and a broad smile.

She always wore bright red lipstick and perfume that filled the shop.

My first few trips to the store were pretty much uneventful until one Saturday when things changed completely, a change that would alter my life forever.

I had woken up early and I fancied some cereal for breakfast but when I checked in the refrigerator and I found that we had no milk in the house. My mother gave me some money to go to the shop and get some bread and a couple of pints of milk. I wandered down the road in the morning sun. The shop, known to everyone in the town as ‘Browns’ even though its real name was ‘The Corner Shop,’ was about half a mile from our house.

I had forgotten that the store did not open until eight o’clock on the weekend. I had a few minutes to waste before the store opened. I kicked a stone around for a while but soon got bored with that. There was a noticeboard in the window. You know the kind of thing, lost cats, cars for sale, etc.

I began to read the notices and adverts that were on display. Most of them were rubbish but one of the advertisements caught my eye. Someone was looking for a helping hand to clean out a garage and a loft, good wages were offered, and the last line of the advert said to ask for more information in the shop. I was hoping to buy a new stereo for my bedroom and had been saving my pocket money for a while. The extra money would certainly help.

As soon as Mrs Brown unlocked and opened the door I stepped into the shop, Mrs Brown looked as amazing as ever. Her white blouse was just about see-through enough for me to see the pattern of her bra and her skirt showed off her big bum a treat. I guess every lad in our area, as well as some of the dads, had wondered what it would be like to get their hands on those big titties.

There was a lad at our school who had sneaked one of his older brother’s ‘lad mags’ out to school and there was a woman in that that had huge tits, but they were nowhere as near as big as Mrs Browns was.

“Good morning you man!” she said, “how are you doing this fine morning?”

“Good morning, Mrs Brown, I am fine and, how are you?” I replied.

“Oh, I am fair to middling,” she said with a laugh that made her bosom jiggle. My eyes gazed at her jiggling titties. If she knew where my eyes were focused, she did not say.

Once she was behind the counter, I asked her if she knew who was looking for a helping hand; low and behold, it was Mrs Brown herself. She told me what she needed help with, and it seemed an easy enough job.

The deal was agreed upon, and the start time was arranged for me to turn up at her house at nine-thirty on Sunday morning. She gave me a piece of paper with her address on it. She lived about three miles from us, so it would not take long on my bike.

So, I paid for my shopping, left the shop, and headed home with my head in the clouds and a mind full of evil thoughts about what I would like to do to Mrs Brown given half a chance.

The rest of the day was taken up with chores and helping my mom in the garden. I was in bed early that Saturday night and I dreamt of Mrs Brown’s big tits. I have to admit I had a crafty wank into my trusty wanking sock that I kept hidden under my bed.

I woke up early and had breakfast before my folks were out of bed, I had a shower and another hand shandy as the lads at school called it. Then I got dressed before I jumped on my bike and headed out to Mrs Browns.

I arrived very early and parked my bike against the garage wall and knocked on the front door. Mrs Brown opened the door, and I nearly burst the zip in my jeans. She was dressed in a loose nightshirt and it was obvious she had no bra on. I could see her huge titties swaying under the thin material of the nightie; I could even make out the outline of her nipples as they hardened in the cool morning air. My cock was hard before I had even had a chance to speak.

“Good morning, Mrs Brown. I hope I am not too early,” I said while gazing at her big boobs while trying to make it look like I was not!

“Good morning, Zak. Please come on in,” she said, opening the door wide.

“Oh no, you’re very punctual,” she said with a smile.

Mrs Brown led me through to her kitchen and offered a seat at the dining table, which was good as my jeans were doing little to hide my obvious excitement.

“Would you like a drink before we start?” she asked giving me one of her gorgeous smiles. “Would you prefer a glass of fruit juice, or perhaps tea or coffee?”

I asked for a fruit juice and took the opportunity to gaze at Mrs Brown’s big sexy arse as she delved into the fridge. I could see her panties through the thin material of her nightshirt. She returned to the table and set my drink down and then she sat at the table opposite me and smiled, resting her boobs on the tabletop. I tried not to stare but, gosh, it was difficult, they were just there so big and so close. My heart was racing in my chest!

“So, what would you like me to do first, Mrs Brown?” I asked trying to keep my voice level. In my head, a story was unfolding but it was nothing like what she really wanted me to do.

“Well, the attic is the first port of call, I guess young man!” she said. “I just need you to climb up there and pass some boxes of my ex-husband’s stuff down.”

“Okay, that’s no problem at all,” I replied with a smile.

“That is good as I am not particularly good on ladders, to be honest,” she said, beaming that smile at me again.

Once I had drained my glass of juice, Mrs Brown led me up the stairs. That big sexy arse of hers was just inches from my face as we climbed the stairs, and it made my cock get even harder. I was sure I would be making a mess in my boxers very soon.

In a cupboard on the landing was a pair of stepladders. I was soon climbing the ladder into the attic with orders to bring the boxes down one at a time. There was a light in the attic which was good as it was a big house and a big attic, a big attic that was filled with boxes.

I grabbed the first box and heaved it down. It was a box of old clothes and Mrs Brown was soon sifting through the garments, she tutted and laughed as she took stuff out.

“Well, these take me back a few years!” she giggled as she looked at the stuff, she began to sort them into two small bundles, one for the charity shop and another to be stuck on a bonfire in her back garden.

I stood on the ladder and watched her industrious sorting. When she had almost finished, I went back up the ladder to the attic.

I returned with another box. The top was duct-taped down. I used my thumbnail to split the tape and then I flicked the lid open. This became the process we used for the next two hours. I carried them and opened them, and Mrs Brown sorted the contents.

We made good progress; box after box was brought down from the attic by me, and Mrs Brown decided what to keep and what to get rid of. As the pile for the bonfire got bigger, she asked me to take it out to the backyard. She had a big garden at the far end there was a patch of ground that was obviously used for garden fires.

After three hours of hard work, the landing was full of boxes marked ‘save’ and boxes marked ‘charity,’ and there were also several black plastic bags to be thrown into the rubbish bin. There were boxes of books, boxes of records, many boxes of old clothes, both men’s and women’s.

Most of the stuff was just old junk, and the number of rubbish bags seemed to be growing steadily.

The last box was quite heavy; it took me a while to lug it down the ladder. The lid of the box was double-taped and took quite a while to open it up. Once it was open, I saw it was full of magazines; I pulled a bundle out, but as soon as they were out of the box, Mrs Brown looked up at me and shouted at me.

“Please put those back, Zak, right now!” her voice was stern.

I dropped the magazines back into the box, looking up at Mrs Brown. She was blushing bright red and looked to be shaking.

“I am so sorry, Mrs Brown,” I stuttered, nervously wondering what I had done wrong.

“It is okay, honey I should not have shouted at you, I am sorry, “she told me, her voice back to her normal level.

“They are not really for the eyes of young boys.” She said her face going even redder.

I looked down at the magazines on the top of the box and realised exactly what they were, the lads at school called them lad mags, tittie mags or scud mags. They looked a little bit more adult than the one my schoolmates had access to.

The front of the magazine on the top of the pile had a busty blonde-haired woman dressed in a schoolgirl’s uniform. I looked back up at Mrs Brown; she still had an angry look on her face.

“I’m very sorry, Mrs Brown,” I was worried she would tell my mom or worse tell my dad.

“I am sorry Zak. I should not have shouted at you,” she replied her voice sounding a little sad.

“I thought my husband had taken those with him when he left.” She said and there was a sadness in her voice.

“I am sorry, Mrs Brown. If I had known they were in the box, I would never have looked at them,” I said apologetically.

“Please Zak, think nothing of it, it’s not your fault, it was just a shock to see them again.” Mrs Brown looked upset. “My ex-husband used them to taunt me with them when we argued.”

I was not sure what to say or do ... there was just silence filling the hallway.

Then she picked one up and flicked through it before tossing it back on the pile.

“It’s silly really but he used to get under my skin waving these in my face,” she said, her voice full of sadness.

I just looked at her not knowing what to say or do...

“He used to say he wished he had married one of these girls rather than me!” she said, I could see tears forming in her eyes.

I could have died on the spot at my next comment, but it was out before I had realised, I had said it.

“I’m sure that none of the ladies in these magazines is as good-looking as you, Mrs Brown,” I said innocently.

I looked up at her worried about what she might do. I was sure I could see tears on her cheeks, but before I could say anything, she stood up. A smile flicked over her face.

“Well, this is really hot work; perhaps I should get us a cold drink. Is Coke okay for you, Zak?” Mrs Brown said before she headed down the stairs toward the kitchen, not waiting for me to answer.

I waited until I heard her in the kitchen before, I lifted one of the other magazines from the box. It was called Mayfair, an old issue, and to today’s standards was soft-core porn.

To a young lad whose idea of porn was looking at the women’s underwear section of his mom’s Kay’s catalogues, it was a new experience altogether. There were so many pictures of sexy women in revealing undies. I flicked from page to page, all the time wondering if I had the guts to smuggle one of these out of the house.

I must have become so engrossed in the magazine because I did not see or hear Mrs Brown walking up the stairs behind me.

“So, Zak, do you like what you see?” she asked as she handed me a cold can of Coke.

I could feel myself blushing from my feet upwards; I was staring at a very pretty, blonde girl lying naked in a bath, her skin wet and shiny. I was stuck for words and I felt my face and neck redden and a heat engulf me.

I watched amazed as Mrs Brown picked up another one of the books and started to flick through the pages. Every now and then, she showed me some different girls asking what I thought about them. She was kneeling on the floor opposite me, the open box of magazines sitting on the carpet between us.

I looked back at the magazine I had been flicking through; I had stopped at a centre spread of a redhead with a huge set of jugs. I studied it for a while; the woman had great big titties, they were big and full, capped off with big puffy nipples. Mrs Brown looked over at me and laughed.

“S0, do you like big titties, Zak? You seemed to have been stopped on that page for ages,” she asked a little grin on her face.

I was unsure what to say; I blushed even more. Every now and then, I looked at Mrs Brown’s chest judging it against the woman in the magazine. She must have seen me staring at her tits.

“My husband didn’t like big boobs; he thought mine were far too big,” she said smiling at me. She giggled and blushed before continuing.

“What do you think, Zak, are they too big?”

and with that, she gave a little shimmy, her big boobs bouncing around beneath her flimsy nightshirt. I felt my jeans tighten as my cock started its natural reaction. Blood seemed to be redirecting itself from every part of my body and my stiffy seemed to be harder than ever before.

I could not answer, was unsure what to say in reply. Mrs Brown’s face darkened and she looked a little sad. No, she looked distraught.

“So, you have something in common with my husband,” she said, “he did not like them either!”

I thought about this for a second before I blurted out my reply.

“Nooooo, I think they are very nice” and I looked at the floor worried about her reaction. “Very nice indeed!”

She just giggled and I looked up at her.

“Do you have any books like these, Zak?” she asked, looking into my eyes.

I shook my head.

“So, what you use when you ... well, you know, when you ... mmm, well, you know?” She asked.

She was looking straight at me, her eyes boring into mine. It was as if she was reading my mind; it was as if she knew what I did in my bedroom at night.

“I am sorry, Mrs Brown; I don’t really know what you mean,” I lied and I was sure I blushed. I felt my cock swell in my trousers.

“I’m sure you do,” she said in a low, sultry voice.

I glanced down at the book in my hand, a big sexy black girl was gazing at me; her tits were huge, and her nipples stuck out like organ stops. My mouth was dry, and I had to change my position as my cock was hurting in the position, I was in.