A “Great” Guy…the Bastard Growing up by phyllisroger

He walked along side after school was out…me with my splendid profile, I thought, and what did I know…we were teenagers after all…each of us at stages of development in school…but I was ahead of the class, in History, too…but you know what I mean. I was the magnet of the boys, mostly immature…admiring me and a few other girls from afar…I was lucky…my breasts were easily the nicest at school…it was a silent thing we all knew…mine were the best and the others were trying to catch up.

What breasts meant we weren’t sure but we were sure they meant something n.i.c.e. Breasts were the key to a boy’s heart, and his dick, and being popular and then, each day, school was out and we were all on our way home…one guy sort of tagged along with me, down the lane, toward my house…”Hey,” he said to me. “Hey, back” I said…and we walked along. I noticed it was just us two…”Come on!” he said and pushed me to the side…”Stop,” I said…”Why?” “I don’t know, just stop!” I said.



Well, as guys do, or don’t, he didn’t stop and pushed me to the side…down along a side street and then down to the ground…”Come on,” he said…”Let me go,” I cried as he pushed me down and now he was like one hundred hands…I didn’t know a guy could have so many hands and they were all on me. I said, “Stop” again but he didn’t.

As I was developing, I naturally admired my breasts…my early self-examinations…and checked them out without end…each curve and shape as they grew…the folds, tried different bras, checked the nipples which were sensitive and responsive…and here was this guy with one hundred hands exploring…it was different than self-examination…my nipples were hard before he grabbed…and I turned at him when he was there…his mouth on mine…”You are a little tease,” he said….”I’ve watched you parading around for us…” Maybe I had and he was all over me…”Stop this” I said and sat up and he pushed me down…”Let me go,” I squirmed in his hands and he let me up and I went home…pulling my blouse down, my dress up, straightening my bra straps…he had gotten me…the bastard…my face was red, my whole body was flushed, I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself over…feeling, exploring—two hands, ten fingers–not the rough hundred handed boy–I was still aflame with the moment, nipples hard and sensitive to my touch, my flesh had goose bumps but I petted myself down, smoothing my tummy and my little hairs..calming, soothing.