Inga...AHH...Inga...
...how I do thank you so.
We all have stories of our first time. It's usually an awkward, drunken, moment with a date when we're in high school. Especially back in my day, when it was unheard of to even think about getting in a girls britches.
I was no ladies man, so I had nothing to gauge myself against other than the stories my friends would convey to me about their conquests. I was only seventeen, and gullible enough to believe them, so I figured I was the only one not getting laid. It didn't set well with me, but I was, after all, a realist, and knew that this could be a trend. As it turned out, it has been.
In the summer of my 17th year, when I was full of piss and vinegar, and not much else, I ventured to New Hampshire to play in a series of tennis tournaments. I flew into Boston(first plane flight)and the wife of a business associate of my Dad, and her sons, picked me up at the airport. We then drove to their oceanside home in in NH. What a place! I had never seen anything like it. This was the cat's ass. They even had two Swedish servants/maids.
Remember, now, this was back in 1971, so there wasn't any politically correct kinda bullshit going on. They were there for one thing, and they knew it. It was America, which is where they wanted to be. And they were two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I have no idea how old they were, nor did I care. They were just very easy on the eyes. But they never exuded any kind of sexuality. They wore the typical uniforms, spoke when spoken to, and went about their business.
I played in several local tournaments for three days, displaying some magic in some, but never really distinguishing myself, other than a finals win in doubles on grass. After the ceremony, one of the sons of my host asked me if I wanted to smoke some grass. Now I had heard of it, and knew my eldest brother was involved with it, but I never thought I would partake. But I succumbed.
That, and a few beers, and my lights were quickly fading. We got back to the house and I immediately took a shower and went to bed. Next thing I knew, Inga was hovering over me, asking me if I was OK and if I needed anything. I guess I had been asleep for almost two hours. The family had a social obligation, so I had the place to myself, and Inga wanted to know if I wanted anything for dinner.
I told her I was fine for the moment. I just wanted to wake up. Keep in mind, I was a seventeen year old and the only tit I had ever seen was in a Playboy. The next thing I knew, she drew the covers back, disrobed, and took me into a place I don't think I've been since. I was transfixed in the moment. The sensuality was overwhelming. I never expected such a thing, nor did I encourage it. It just happened.
She looked just like the woman in the pic, who was the Playboy playmate in January of the following year. It gave me pleasure for years to come, so to speak.
Why do I convey this? Expiration date.
We all have stories of our first time. It's usually an awkward, drunken, moment with a date when we're in high school. Especially back in my day, when it was unheard of to even think about getting in a girls britches.
I was no ladies man, so I had nothing to gauge myself against other than the stories my friends would convey to me about their conquests. I was only seventeen, and gullible enough to believe them, so I figured I was the only one not getting laid. It didn't set well with me, but I was, after all, a realist, and knew that this could be a trend. As it turned out, it has been.
In the summer of my 17th year, when I was full of piss and vinegar, and not much else, I ventured to New Hampshire to play in a series of tennis tournaments. I flew into Boston(first plane flight)and the wife of a business associate of my Dad, and her sons, picked me up at the airport. We then drove to their oceanside home in in NH. What a place! I had never seen anything like it. This was the cat's ass. They even had two Swedish servants/maids.
Remember, now, this was back in 1971, so there wasn't any politically correct kinda bullshit going on. They were there for one thing, and they knew it. It was America, which is where they wanted to be. And they were two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I have no idea how old they were, nor did I care. They were just very easy on the eyes. But they never exuded any kind of sexuality. They wore the typical uniforms, spoke when spoken to, and went about their business.
I played in several local tournaments for three days, displaying some magic in some, but never really distinguishing myself, other than a finals win in doubles on grass. After the ceremony, one of the sons of my host asked me if I wanted to smoke some grass. Now I had heard of it, and knew my eldest brother was involved with it, but I never thought I would partake. But I succumbed.
That, and a few beers, and my lights were quickly fading. We got back to the house and I immediately took a shower and went to bed. Next thing I knew, Inga was hovering over me, asking me if I was OK and if I needed anything. I guess I had been asleep for almost two hours. The family had a social obligation, so I had the place to myself, and Inga wanted to know if I wanted anything for dinner.
I told her I was fine for the moment. I just wanted to wake up. Keep in mind, I was a seventeen year old and the only tit I had ever seen was in a Playboy. The next thing I knew, she drew the covers back, disrobed, and took me into a place I don't think I've been since. I was transfixed in the moment. The sensuality was overwhelming. I never expected such a thing, nor did I encourage it. It just happened.
She looked just like the woman in the pic, who was the Playboy playmate in January of the following year. It gave me pleasure for years to come, so to speak.
Why do I convey this? Expiration date.
posted by GalacticallyStupid at 3:30 PM
2 Comments:
What do you mean "expiration date?"
We're all born with one.
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