First time.......

Musings from WannabeGinger

For all of us, there are many “first time” for many things in our lives. Here are a few more of my own, from the time I had realized……… I was a little different

Chapter 4

As I sat on my bed, wearing panties and lipstick and not much more, my thoughts were miles away. I was back in Junior school. I was with Riva, my little Jewish girlfriend. Well, she wasn’t my girlfriend really. She didn’t know that I was in love. I was, now I know it, in love with being like her. Looking like her. Having a Mum like hers, a Mum who would take me out to have my hair cut as nicely as Riva’s was.

For the first time in my life, I just escaped from being ‘discovered’. I heard footsteps on the hall floor. Solid pine floors make noise the way carpets don’t It was Mum, or was it a Brother…. Quick! I had to remove the lipstick and remove the panties…. Quick! The footsteps were gone. The feet were climbing the stairs.

I smeared the lipstick off my lips with a handkerchief….. That would have to be binned. I could never have it go through the wash. I tore the panties off my legs. I threw them into the corner of the room, under the bed. They could be retrieved later. For the first time in my life, I felt my heart banging in my chest, rattling my ribcage. I was stark bullock naked when I heard Mum call “Are you in, son of mine?” She always called me that. And then, the door opened. In those days, privacy wasn’t a right enjoyed by teenagers.

In those few seconds, I had grabbed underpants — boys’ underpants — and a pair of trousers. My top half was naked. All was well. We talked briefly as I finished dressing, but not before Mum had looked a little closely at the marks across my back — where the bra strap had been when improperly fastened — “That looks uncomfortable..” she said, her sentence hanging in the air.

I can recall it, even today, fifty years later.

“Oh, yeah…. I fell on the sports field yesterday…” I answered.

Off the hook? Yes! She seemed content with the explanation and we moved on to what was happening the rest of the day. For the first time, I knew what a “narrow escape” was.

--oOo--

The buying of a bra was uppermost in my mind. I couldn’t use Mum’s underwear because she was all the wrong sizes for me. Wrong chest size, wrong tits size, so wrong cup size. I now know I would have been a 34A when she would have been a 36B or 38C. I did, in fact, buy a 34B bra the next week, when my savings allowed.

After school one day, I went back to the same Marks & Spencer store. To the same department. To the same aisle of merchandise. To be met by the same young lady who had helped me previously. At least the old dragon Supervisor was nowhere to be seen. The young lady clearly remembered me. “Hello again.” she said. “…..Is your Sister still unwell?” she continued, recalling my excuse….. “What’s on your list today?”

Did I detect a touch of mockery — as if she knew really why I was there? Was her smile a little sly and ‘knowing’? Thinking back, it might have been. But that passed and she helped me to find the range and the size of bra that was needed. “Matching the panties, I remember now…” she said. “…Did you get it right last time?” She was in fact being very helpful, with no different ‘agenda’.

She was, perhaps, seventeen or eighteen years old, taller than me, with a slim body and small tits under her company uniform. She wore no make-up but her eyes sparkled. Her hair was long; touching her shoulders and it was sleek. Beautifully kept, considering her ‘day job’.

For the first time, I fell in love with an ‘older woman’!! She, of course, didn’t know that.

She led me to the pay desk and I stood in a queue. The garment in my hand was almost burning hot! Well, it felt so. How soon could I get out of the store, get home, and get wearing this beautiful thing? “Are you alright?” asked the Assistant. She had seen how I was distracted, I guess. “Oh.. yes, oh, definitely.” I replied. “Well, if you come back, do ask for me if I’m not around”, she said — and was gone! I paid as quickly as I could, hoping not to be spotted by anyone I knew, and left the store. My heart was pounding again.

--oOo--

I reached the safety of my own room at home. The bra was still wrapped in the plastic M&S bag I had been given. The house was empty. Dad was still at work. Mum was out at friends. My Brothers were both later coming home from school than me.

Did I have enough time? Surely not. Best to keep it until I was alone for half a day… minimum!

--oOo--

Later the same week, again after school, but before I had tried on my bra, I heard voices downstairs. One of my brothers was talking — to my Mum. “I tell you, Mum, there are a girl’s panties under his bed…. Honest” “No, you must be mistaken….” She replied. “Well, you see — he’s too young to be messing about with girls, Mum. You have to check him out.”

Bastard! I thought…. But of course, that’s one thing my Brother is not. We have the same Father. But why would he “grass me up” as the saying goes — why would he “shop me” to someone I trust and who trusts me. Bastard!

My mistake was leaving those panties in my room — down by the back of the bed. Shit! Why did I forget to pick them up!?? I went back to my room, retrieved the offending item and put them with my bra in the bag at the back of my closet — where the sun never shines!

Mum never did say anything — but maybe she looked to see if what my Brother had said was true. The Bastard — I found a niggling stream of hate for him — he’d always been the one who’d bully me if he got the chance……. Bastard!

The panties were retrieved. They were never mentioned again. But then nobody knew why they were there. Nobody suspected that they were MINE! Not for the first time, I was very relieved indeed to be alone I my room. I still had to wait for a time to wear both my bra and the matching panties. Another warm feeling, another hard-on. This time it needed attention!

Chapter 5 follows — can you guess what happens?