I'm Simon, I'm twenty-three years old and I'm now sexually experienced. I say that with some pride because until only a year or so ago the most I'd ever done was kiss a girl, and that was a long time before. Now I've tried more things than most people do in a lifetime. It was when I met Becky that everything changed. I was, as you might say, fast-tracked through the world of sexual exploration, and the kinky part of it too. It has been a breathtakingly wonderful experience. I'll try and tell you the story of how it happened, but it'll take more than one chapter.
I'm the stereotype average guy, tallish, slimish, with mousy brown hair and acne scars. I'm also naturally a rather shy person, with very little self confidence and a bad case of insecurity. That's just the way I was built, but the problem was aggravated by an incident that took place when I was just, and only just, thirteen. I was at a school friend's birthday party and during a childishly innocent game of 'postman's knock' it fell to me to kiss a girl named Andrea. It just so happened that I didn't like her and she didn't like me, so it was with some reluctance that I went through into the darkened hallway where she was waiting for me. What happened next was to shape my life for years.
As I went to self-consciously put my arms around her I accidentally – and honestly, it really was accidentally - touched her newly growing left breast. Her reaction was completely, and I believe deliberately, over the top. She ran back into the party in floods of crocodile tears, shouting and screaming, calling me all sorts of names and swearing to everyone that I'd tried to 'feel her up'. The result was that I was sent home in disgrace to face my wrathful and suspicious parents. But worse was to come, because the next day Andrea put it around the school that I'd tried to rape her, and I was bullied mercilessly from then on. She never did set the record straight and I had to go through the rest of my school years with the nickname 'Pervy Simon'. Whoever said that school kids can be cruel was a supreme master of understatement!
You can imagine that for someone with low self confidence anyway, this was quite devastating and had the effect of causing me to become something of a reluctant loner, someone with few friends and who avoided contact with the opposite sex at all costs. It wasn't until I'd left school and began to develop my own new circle of acquaintances that I began to relax a little, but by then the damage had been done. I was now so far behind the level of sexual experience that my friends had reached, or at least the level they said they'd reached, that I daren't go on a date in case my lack of practice showed through and I set myself up for further ridicule. The classic dilemma.
The result was twofold. Firstly I went through my teenage years, the years when I most people begin to experiment with sex, relying solely on my right hand to provide an outlet and I emerged into my twenties as a complete virgin. Secondly, because I still actively avoided any sexual contact I now picked up the new nickname of 'Saint Simon'. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. Isn't it a wonderful world?
I've told you all that because it will help you understand what happened last year. You see I don't want you to think I'm a woman hater, or that I'm a closet gay or anything.
Now, to cut a long story a bit shorter, myself and several friends went out one evening to celebrate one of them making it as far as twenty-one, with everyone getting rat-arsed but me as I was the 'designated driver' for the occasion. Yes, I still get all the fun! Anyway, at the end of the night I dropped everyone else off and then took the 'birthday boy' himself home, and as he was in no state to navigate his own way up the path I draped his arm around my shoulder and half walked, half dragged him into the house.
There I found that his twin sister was home with some of her friends, all of them drunk, having been out celebrating the same birthday. They were in a quandary, as their own designated driver, Becky, had been unable to resist and was as smashed as the rest of them. So my appearance was immediately seized upon as the answer to their prayers and I was somehow roped in to run home the two who could not sleep over. I assume they expected to be safe with 'Saint Simon'.
One of them, Mia, lived quite close by and she was soon dropped off, but then I discovered that the other one, Becky, the erstwhile driver, lived out in the sticks and I had about a forty minute drive to deliver her home. I wasn't over impressed by this, but as I'd promised to get her home, get her home I would. I remember wondering to myself if St. Simon was the patron saint of suckers.
About halfway into the journey Becky suddenly declared an urgent need to pee and, as the road was deserted, tree lined, and unlit, I just sighed and pulled into a gateway to let her do what was necessary. She stumbled from the car, slid down a little embankment behind the trees and disappeared from sight, whilst I sat and waited. It was a bright moonlight night and so I couldn't see her getting into difficulties.
After what seemed an inordinately long time with no sign of her return I climbed out of the car and went in search of her, half expecting to find her in a drunken sleep on the grass somewhere. But as I got near the top of the bank I heard laughing and scrabbling noises and I looked over to find her half way up the slope, unable to climb any further and collapsed in a giggling heap. For some reason I never did discover, she had her knickers in her hand and, with her short tennis style, skirt rucked up, she was displaying a very shapely bottom for the world to see.
"I can't get out of this hole". She said, looking blearily up at me and waving her free hand in my general direction. "Give me a pull up, will you?"
"It isn't a hole, it's a hill," I replied crossly, wondering why I'd let myself get talked into being a taxi service in the first place.
"Whatever it is, I still can't get out of it." She carried on waving an expectant hand at me.
"Alright, pull your bloody skirt down and cover yourself up, and then grab hold of my hand." I resigned myself to helping her up and leaned over, extending my hand towards hers.