Ros's story
Why I was called Rosamund, I'll never know! Perhaps something to do with my mother's passion for horses, or my father's fondness for Schubert! Nothing to do with roses - I could never be compared to a rose!
I was brought up during the second world war and was regarded as something of a tomboy. I was into athletics and keep fit, and all that sort of thing. I am an only child and I think my parents were hoping for a boy. But they got me instead! No dolls and cuddly toys when I was young - cars and soldiers and boys' toys. I was brought up as a boy, with short hair, sensible shoes and trousers - though at school I had to wear the regulation skirt and blouse. I played football and cricket with the other boys, and excelled at games and track events, so I had well-developed muscles.
I wasn't very tall, but above average I guess. I had longish legs, but I didn't have big tits! My nipples were okay, though. Like a dried fruit on a small biscuit! And they really swell hard when excited! In fact, I was sturdy and quite boyish, though there was no inclination to be attracted to other girls, even though I was popular. I was outgoing and competitive - always wanting to be better than the others, to show my superiority at physical things. And I was fiercely independent - some would call pig-headed. That's why they made me head girl at school, I suppose. So, it was no surprise that I chose to study physical training at college. Coupled with English literature, which I enjoyed.
Whilst my peers were beginning to go out with boys, I had no particular interest in them, apart from playing their games, preferring to save my passion and strength for the track! In a curious way, winning a race would always give me a kind of orgasm which I can't describe, nor explain. I got a buzz throughout my whole body and felt the heavy tingling between my legs. I achieved my satisfaction by winning.
I remember one boy, jealous of my winning record, who decided to remind me that I was only a girl by trying to feel my tits. He came up behind me in the gym and, saying I was just a girl like other girls, he slipped his hands up my vest to prove it. I swung round on him and belted him. I think I caught him with my elbow, but anyway, he was felled to the floor, knocked out! So, after that, no boy dared to try to touch my body again!
My cousin Peggy was what I regarded as a conventional woman. She planned to get married to a doctor, which was why she was going to train as a nurse. She said nurses always got the man with the stethoscope. Until then, although she was curious about the male sex, her body was not to be tampered with by any other guy. She was friendly with Johnnie's pal, Roy, who pestered her to let him make love to her, to satisfy their inbred curiosity about sexual intercourse, he said.
'That's all he wants,' she told me. 'A biological specimen to examine. Sex without strings attached!' But she wasn't having any!
Besides, her elder sister was already married, and had passed on all the things she wanted to know about fucking. But, she was warned by her sister, once she did it, she'd want to do it over and over again! Every day! So don't start!
I was disgusted at the thought of a man pushing his lump of flesh inside me. Ever, never mind daily! Peggy laughed at me and told me to wait. It would happen one day. Not me!
'My body is private,' I said. 'And it'll stay that way. After college I'm off to Australia, anyway. I don't want to get bogged down with some jerk in this miserable country.'
So it came as a surprise to me when I felt myself attracted to Johnnie. I spent the last two weeks of the school holiday staying with cousin Peggy. Now, Peggy was tall, dark and beautiful. Not voluptuous, but with attractive bulges in the right places. She was one of a group of friends who knocked about together and most of them waiting to go up to college after the summer. They were a boisterous lot - always singing and laughing!
Despite her opposition to her friend Roy's ongoing effort to seduce her, they went to the cinema together quite often, where she fended off his many attempts to get his hand into her bra, she told me. Wearing high-neck sweaters with a belt round the waist all the time, was a bit hot for her, but necessary to avoid the expected assault. On my first evening with her, Peggy invited me along to the cinema with them, on a blind date with Roy's friend, Johnnie. I wasn't keen, but didn't want to be seen as a spoilsport. Besides, I wanted to see the film, so I agreed. It was a Friday.
Well, we met in the foyer of the local cinema, and Johnnie and I were immediately attracted to one another, like magnets, and sat together, laughing and joking until the lights dimmed and the film started. Johnnie behaved according to the rules. We eventually just held hands. He was fairly attractive, I suppose. Slim and clean-looking, blue eyes, straight firm nose, with short fairish hair and a ready smile that lit up his face. I liked him, I decided! Besides, we had such a lot in common, I thought. He was into literature and drama, so we could argue forever about Shakespeare and Jane Austen.
The code of sexual conduct was very strict in those days. Passed down from generation to generation, I suppose, but it was Peggy who first explained the code to me. On the first visit to the cinema, the boy was expected to behave impeccably. Holding hands was allowed. On the second visit, he was expected to put his arm round the girl's shoulders and sit cheek to cheek if she let him. He might be allowed a perfunctory kiss or two.
According to Peggy, it was on the third visit when the guy would try to feel her body. By agreeing to go out with him a third time, she was showing some interest in him. If she wanted no fondling, she would wear high neck clothing as a signal to that effect. He might, however, try holding her tits over her clothes whilst kissing her. On the other hand, if she was wearing an open neck blouse, or dress, she was inviting him to slip his hand into her top and feel her tits. She, of course, wouldn't allow him to feel her straight away, removing his roving hand. This would tell him that she was a 'good' girl.
If their friendship persisted, she might eventually allow him to slide his hand onto the upper swelling of her breast, restraining him from going further. More ardent kissing, however, might loosen her resolve and allow him, finally, to find her nipple and fondle the whole breast. But the area between the legs was still strictly private territory. That, at least, was the usual code of practice.
In bed after that first uneventful evening, I thought a lot about Johnnie, with a good deal of happiness, as I drifted off to sleep with a smile. Yes! He was nice! I'd never thought about any guy this way ever before.
The next morning, eight of us met for coffee in Collinson's Café in the centre of town. I sat next to Johnnie, of course, and we all had many laughs. Although I had not met this group before, they made me very welcome and I felt very much at ease with them. That afternoon I couldn't get Johnnie out of my mind. Pleasant thoughts! I told Peggy that I couldn't understand it. She laughed and said I might be falling in love with him! What nonsense! But he kept popping up into my head all day, even so, and I fell asleep with him still in my mind.
The group of friends often had parties in each other's houses and Peggy had arranged one for the Sunday evening. There was nowhere to go on a Sunday in those days. Everywhere was closed except for the churches. Even having a party was frowned on by many people. There were some six couples there, including Johnnie and me. We discussed many topics with passion - atom bombs, teachers, animals, marriage, sex - and joined in the silly juvenile games.
In fact, it was during a game of Postman's Knock, I remember, that Johnnie gave me my first kiss, outside the door of the lounge. We managed to signal to each other the numbers we'd drawn. The other couples did the same, I think! I'd drawn the number three and he called me out when it was his turn. He called through the door that he had a parcel for me - which meant three kisses! The others all cheered as I made for the door. And that was all! We just kissed. And kissed and kissed. I'd never kissed a man before. But the magnetic tingle rippled through my belly. I wanted more!
During the following two days, I couldn't do anything without Johnnie interrupting my thoughts! I needed to talk to him all the time, so I swallowed my pride and phoned him for a chat. He seemed surprised, but pleased. We chatted and laughed for almost a half-hour! I just wanted to hear his voice - talk to him. In bed that night, he was constantly in my thoughts. I wanted him so much that I cried myself to sleep.
On our second visit to the cinema as a foursome was on the Wednesday. I was aware of my cousin Peggy, cuddling and kissing with Roy. Being rather impatient, I decided to move on to the second phase of the mating ritual. Taking Johnnie's arm, I put it round my neck, and snuggled close into him. He responded by holding me tight, and pressing his cheek against mine. It was natural to turn my face to his for our lips to meet. We kissed a lot. I almost ate him!
Sure enough, Johnnie brushed his hand over my right breast softly, over my jumper. I didn't try to stop him, but I rested my hand over his in a show of trying to restrain him. But I actually pressed it harder against me. My mouth went dry. I'm sure Johnnie could feel my heart thumping! My body was all a-tingle! It was exciting. I just hoped he didn't think I was a slut! Eventually, I let him keep his hand there. He was just holding me - nothing else. I speculated on how it would feel to have him fondle my tits.
When I got into bed that night, I found I had become wet between the legs. My outer labia are rather plump and completely hide the inner ones, so that I have to part the outer lips to get at the more sensitive inner ones. As I toyed with my wet labia, I started to cry again for no reason. Then I did something I had only done once or twice before. I masturbated, trying to imagine Johnnie's fingers were rubbing my clit. My orgasm was quick and explosive. I was confused and tearful as I drifted off to sleep cupping my vulva tightly in my hand, still quietly sobbing. I wanted to be with him.
The next morning I couldn't escape from thinking of Johnnie. I couldn't wait to see him again when we met for coffee. Roy and Peggy kept looking at us, and exchanging glances. I wondered if they thought we were becoming too familiar with each other. I didn't care. I just loved being with him and was quiet and miserable when we parted. Peggy mentioned that we seemed to get on well together. I just smiled and said we did. Johnnie was good fun to be with.
