DIARY OF A TEENAGE MILKMAN

Even from within the haze I’d been in since entering the room I still remember thinking how corny that had sounded. Two more steps took me to the head of the bed, where I stopped, still staring at the hand that was patting the empty space on the bed, desperate not to make eye contact, even more so trying not to let my eyes wander towards her prone figure, I still hadn’t noticed what she was wearing. “Good boy, now sit down beside me, you do want your birthday tip, don’t you?” Now I looked up and got my first glimpse of what she was wearing, for a boy of fifteen the sight was breath-taking, she was wearing a flimsy nightie, almost completely see through, short, reaching barely the top of her thighs, even then I could just make out in the dim light that she was wearing no underwear, no knickers, no panties, no bra! I’d never paid much attention to her breasts before, he hairstyle being her commanding feature when clothed, although I must have noticed her breasts, they were impossible to miss, they were big, not too big, just big, in subsequent encounters when she was clothed I often wondered how I could have missed them ? They were magnificent, firm, perfectly formed; I could make out her nipples as they poked at the thin material, pushing it out an extra half inch at least. “She leant away from me to put the cigarette in the ashtray on a bedside table on the other side of the bed, allowing me to watch as her breasts swung away from me, her left buttock lifting from the bed, taking the flimsy nightie with it, her naked thigh and buttock exposed to my view.