I had my first real sexual experience many years ago, at the age of 18. I wasn't a complete virgin – if you count one 20 second fumbled stand-up shag with an equally inexperienced girl in the alley behind the youth club – but like most teenage males of the time most of my sexual encounters involved my right hand and Health and Efficiency magazine.
I had just finished a heavy week of exams at school, so I decided to unwind with a relaxing weekend walking in the hills of my native Yorkshire. It was a spur of the moment decision, and after a full day of hiking I found myself in the evening in a tiny village, a sort of one-horse town where the horse had died. There was only one place to stay, an ancient inn. When I asked about a bed for the night, the landlady told me she was sorry but they'd already let out their one room for the night. So I bought a half pint of shandy and slumped at a table trying to work out how the hell I was going to get to the next village, 20 miles away, at that time of night.
After a couple of minutes I realised somebody was standing over me. I looked up to see an old woman, probably in her 70s, grinning at me. She was barely five feet tall, and as fat as a barrel, with a head of grey hair permed into curls. When she realised she had my attention, she said, in a Cockney accent, "Hello dear, I understand you've got a problem." With that she sat down opposite me and told me her name was Olive. She had booked the only room at the inn, but if I was stuck for somewhere to sleep she was willing to share with me. I was shocked at this suggestion and refused as politely as I felt able. But Olive persisted. "Oh don't be silly, you need somewhere to sleep, the rain's pissing down outside, and the room's got a double bed. I'm hardly going to leap on you at my age, and I wouldn't imagine you'd molest an old trout like me. If you like I'll even pay for the room, so it won't cost you anything." Try as I might I could see no alternative so I reluctantly agreed, but I insisted on paying my share.
As we walked up to the room, followed by curious looks from the landlady and the local drinkers, I prayed that there would be a sofa in the room that I could bed down on. However, the room was tiny – there was barely room for the small double bed, and not enough space for me to even lie on the floor. I went down the corridor to the bathroom to change into my pyjamas, assuming Olive would change while I was doing so. I was surprised to get back to the room and see her still fully dressed, but I got into the bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. To my horror, Olive then turned her back to me and started stripping off there and then! I honestly tried not to look, but I was only 18, and I'd never seen a real naked woman before. She had rolls of fat on her backside, and in a full length mirror attached to the wall I saw she had huge pendulous breasts and a large belly which flopped over a thick thatch of now white pubic hair. I was shocked to realise that the sight of this old woman, older than my granny, was giving me an erection; but my face burned with shame as I realised that Olive had seen me watching! She caught my eye in the mirror and gave me a grin and a wink! Then she pulled a full length winceyette nightie over her head, put her false teeth in a glass of water (yeuch! I thought), switched off the light and climbed into the bed next to me.
