Chapter 1: First Love

I have always liked girls, even when it wasn’t peer approved. Between ages seven to eleven, girls were disgustingly yucky, according to my pals. Any attractions I felt toward any members of the opposite gender, were kept to myself. Self preservation of social standing among the lads. Their good opinion was important to me.

Standards of acceptable attitudes began to change somewhere prior to age eleven, about when we first discovered Playboy magazines. Girls our own age were still pretty yucky, but women, including a few of our younger school teachers, and a few well endowed moms of friends, were discussed, voted on, considered lust-worthy babes. As our co-eds gained busts, so our opinion of contemporary girls changed too, from despising to wistful yearning. All the girls I secretly decided were cute at younger ages became even cuter. Very much so! Some poor girls formerly afflicted with incurable ugly, improved so dramatically. I would have laughed derisively if anyone had said any of them would someday be attractive, but they proved my juvenile judgment faulty indeed. Some turned out to be among the best in class, the prettiest. Who, at age seven. imagines someday freckles will become anything other than ugly? More than pretty, actually become quite adorable? Red hair achieved a huge leap in approval rating. Hair styling and some minimalist touches of cosmetics helped no doubt. Little girls still remained yucky, especially kid sisters. Except I was astute enough to recognize potential beauty in kid sisters of pals, and wise enough not to mention it to their brothers.

Older girls were beginning to resemble the fantasy women we dreamed about, drooled over, and lusted after.

The girl next door. My buds and I called her the BB gun girl, and treated her with respect. We respectfully stayed out of range. She was a dead-eye shot! Stung you good, if she was in her usual foul mood. She always had that BB gun nearby for targets of opportunity.

She was one of those girls hiding behind a mask of freckles. You couldn’t see her face because it was obscured with a million freckles. Then one day, she changed. One of us or perhaps both of us did.

I suddenly had a strong desire to kiss everyone of her freckles, especially those descending into her open throated shirt, down into the vee of her bosoms. In public, I joined with the rest of my peers in calling them boobs, but in my private fantasies, they deserved the richer title of bosoms. Sounds sexier, and obviously was in history books like The Scarlet Pimpernel and the Hornblower series.

My sexy neighbor’s name is Betsy, and she’s a grade above and a year older than me. Betsy was my first date. We went to the fair together, my treat. She even kissed me up on top on the Ferris wheel. My first kiss, but Betsy said it didn’t really count as a first kiss, because she wasn’t into actually kissing me, just using me for practice. She can practice on me all she wants. Hope we practice a lot. Maybe she didn’t mean it, claims she didn’t, but I sure did!

Betsy and I began frequently hanging out together. Going places together, to the movies, to parties, and often going fishing together. Fishing was the best, because of the swim breaks. Skinny dipping together, Betsy never allowed touching, but looking was encouraged. She enjoys being admired, and I enjoy admiring her. I figured we’ll probably get married someday and I’ll get to touch her and other stuff. Then she went and ruined everything.

Betsy’s new boyfriend has his driver’s license and his grandma gave him her old car she no longer drives. How can I compete with that?

A harem. I’ll acquire a harem, of so many girlfriends I’ll be the chief topic of school gossip. Everyone will wonder why I’m so special, and why I attract so many girls. That is my ambition. My plan is simple, recruit them young. Adopt them, and encourage their self esteem when their self image is at lowest ebb. Don’t wait until they’re eye-catching babes everybody wants. Earn their trust and affection while they are still just slightly yucky, on the cusp. Watch them metamorphose into eye candy, safely cocooned in my arms. Besides, they are easy to convince to allow touching when they’re innocent and adventurous. I believe I had my hand in more panties prior to age eighteen, than I managed afterwards. When the girls grow bosoms they become protective of them and every other part.

I’m tall for my age and easily got hired as an usher at the theater.

I could sneak pairs of my girlfriends in for free. Sitting with them wasn’t part of my plan. I’m as popular as I want to be, that’s my agenda. Girls approach me, beg to become one of my girls. The initiation is to go fishing with me, just the two of us. Then they’re mine to admire and fondle. The best times are my fishing parties. The skinny dipping swim breaks are incredible, plenty of eye candy everywhere and some girls like very much being groped.

Betsy seems curious lately, and I’ve caught her staring at me at times. I just ignore her. Since we live next door to each other, it’s impossible not to see each other, but I pretend I don’t see her. She seems amused by me when she stares at me. At least she displays a little interest. I want to observe remorse on her part. Patience!