This is a book which does not really fit into any one genre.It is an adult read, erotic, funny, hilarious, sad, romantic and emotional.

The story revolves and evolves around Kevin, it takes you through the many changes in his life, the ups and down if you like. You get to meet his friends along the way, which is well worth it.

Please leave comments, I would like to know your thoughts and views!

Good or bad :o)

If you do like it and feel you´d like to donate a little for it then message me for my Paypal address. Anything I earn from this goes to paying for vet care and food for stray dogs and cats. So it is money well spent.

Thank you!

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INDEX

Chapter 1: Fork In The Road

Chapter 2: Jack The Lad

Chapter 3: The Awakening

Chapter 4: The Wrong Bag?

Chapter 5: A Real Woman

Chapter 6: Gay Or Just Really Sad?

Chapter 7: It’s All Relative Really

Chapter 8: What´s The Joke?

Chapter 9: I´m Not The Joke

Chapter 10: Born To Be Wild

Chapter 11: Things Should Stay Dead And Hopefully Buried

Chapter 12: Time To Grow Up

Chapter 13: Maybe Not Just Yet?

Chapter 14: Averse Or Adverse To Change?

Chapter 15: Maybe Now?

Chapter 16: Here´s Just Looking At You Baby

Chapter 17: A Girl Who Knows Her Custard

Chapter 18: I Think So Finally

Chapter 19: Oh The Possibilities

Chapter 20: "Mwahahahaahhaha"

Chapter 21: Super Hero

Chapter 22: Loaves & Fishes

Chapter 23: Friends & Enemies

Chapter 24: Just Like In The Holy Grail

Chapter 25: The Cistern Grapple

Chapter 26: Semper Fidelis

Chapter 27: Good Man Down

Chapter 28: When Tomorrow Comes

Chapter 29: Drop & Give Me 50

Chapter 30: She Walks In Beauty

Chapter 31: A Monkey By Any Other Name

Chapter 32: Pretty Woman?

Chapter 33: Pick n´Mix

Chapter 34: Mission Monkey Rescue (sorry Rescue Clyde)

Chapter 35: Holy Mother Of God

Chapter 36: Just One Big Happy Family

Chapter 37: Love Is All Around Us

Chapter 38: Pineapple Chunks

Chapter 39: Der Duh Der Der

Chapter 40: Under The Tree

Chapter 41: One Last Thing

Chapter 42: Some Down Time

Every Tuesday I would sit here on this same park bench watching two local women play tennis.

I watched them not knowing who they were or caring for that matter, they were perfect, perfect in every way, with their knee high socks, tight white tops and pleated tennis skirts.

One, a blonde with fine golden hair scooped up into a bun, she was very tall, the other a shorter more rounded woman with long dark wavy hair, which every now and then she´d blow out of the way of her eyes.

I would sit there hiding behind my newspaper pretending to read it, but really lurking, drooling and gripping the paper to my chest hoping to see a flash of their panties, as they athletically reached to hit the ball. Now and then their pert breasts would bounce a little pleasing me even more.

I was an amateur pervert and I knew it, my paper was there for one reason and one reason only and that was to hide little Elvis from the outside world. Even though I’d taken to carrying the Financial Times, I never actually read it; I merely used it as a prop in my debauched insignificant life, I thought it made me look more interesting and innocent. More like a young man just sitting reading, catching up with the stock market prices.

In reality I know that I was known as ´that man´, I’d hear parents say “Don’t play near that man” or I’d hear old ladies whisper “It’s that young man again”, then they’d scuttle past like small fat dung beetles.

Sometimes I just wanted to scream at the top of my voice “My names Kevin, Kevin Bradstock” but I never did, I also wanted to flash my little Elvis at every living female on the planet but I never did that either. I just sat doing nothing, not interfering with anyone but myself through the lining of my trouser pocket.

I was indeed sad and lonely, a dirty old man mentally but in reality a twenty-year-old version of one.

I´d been born here in Bournville and had hardly ever left, it was something like being trapped in a time warp.

Built to look like an old village but tagged on to Birmingham a very modern city, it had village greens and duck ponds, but it also had vandalism and spray painted scrawl.

On warm days it smelt of chocolate from the Cadbury factory as it wafted in the air, on other days of newly cut grass and dog poo. It was a town built by someone who held strict family values and morals, which to them meant blocking out the future, freezing time and pretending that the outside world never existed, when really it always had.

I felt like the human version of Bournville being hidden away from the big wide world, but by my mother, my own creator. She´d made me feel different from other boys of my age, from other young men, as if I was a dainty little thing, so precious. As a child I enjoyed the feeling of being protected and guarded, but as I became older it made me feel lonely, it made me seem odd to other people.

Things had to change, so I decided after today I wouldn’t sit here anymore. Something inside me was telling me that there was indeed more to life, more exciting things to do, I just had to try a little bit harder, reach for the things I wanted out of life.

If I was lonely I had to do something about it and not just sit on a bench hoping that a women would notice me and speak to me. It was never going to happen, so I had to make it happen, just not today, maybe tomorrow because it was nearly tea time and I loved Tuesday tea times.

Every Tuesday, Aunt Violet would always visit my house.

On her arrival she used to kiss me and when I say kiss me I don’t mean in a normal aunt kisses nephew sort of a way.

If I was lucky and mother wasn’t about Aunt Violet would slip her tongue in and squeeze her enormous bosom against my chest.

Hopefully you have gathered by now that she is not actually a blood relative, she is just a woman my mother used to go to bingo with for many years. I´d grown up calling her Aunt as children do.

For her age she wasn´t in bad nick, I remember her being quite pretty when I was a little boy and considerably slimmer. She was now mutton dressed as lamb but still not bad to look at, she reminded me of one of the starlets from the old black and white films, just an older version.

She would often just wink at me and whisper “You know Kevin I am not really your auntie”.

I’d always wondered why she said this time and time again, and then I figured it out, it was because the dirty old bag fancied me and wanted me bad.

So I set off back home.

When I got in mother asked if I had been to college, same thing every Tuesday “Yes mother I have been to college and the tutors say “I have a really good chance of being entered in the final exam this year”.

Same day, same lie, it had been like that for the last three years, afterwards mother would smile at me and give me a cream doughnut to nibble on while she prepared tea and every time I’d sit having crude thoughts about the doughnut.

Oh God how I wanted to stick little Elvis in its hole and waggle it about in the cold fluffy cream!

But what can I say, I never did.

Instead I sat waiting in anticipation for Aunt Violet, with little Elvis fidgeting eagerly in the safety of my very tight y-fronts. The doorbell rang and mother shouted “Kevin darling could you get that for mummy, my hands are full”.

Like a whippet I sprang from my seat hoping that today my hands would be full too, but with Aunt Violets ample bosom.

I opened the door and Aunt Violet stood there in all her glory, all 14 stone of her. I stared at her and gave her my ´come to bed look´ to which she would always reply “Kevin my sweet boy come give your Aunt Vi’ a snuggle”.

Then would come the best bit of all, she’d pull me in to her large heaving chest and kiss me.

She smelt strange sort of a mix of wool and lavender but I didn’t care, she was a female and she had a pulse and she had breasts, huge mesmerising breasts.

Oh yes! and she did it, she slipped her funny little pointy tongue ever so quickly into my awaiting mouth, little Elvis went wild as I hung in her arms like a fly stuck in a Venus fly trap, unable to move, gasping for breath, dying ever so slowly of happiness among her cleavage.

“Oh Kevin you naughty boy” she said then she waddled off like an egg bound duck to find mother.

I in the meantime ran off to the bathroom for a quick wank while little Elvis was in the mood.

Three minutes later I sat back in my armchair grinning, mother came in carrying a tea tray and said “Kevin go wash your hands before you eat”. Looking at her I wiped my hands down the front of my jumper, it was as if she knew. My mother had a sixth sense, she could I was sure detect whenever I´d been for a wank!

Then sulkily I took my place at the table, as usual I sat opposite Aunt Vi, just so that I could watch her chest jiggle inside her brown cashmere cardigan as she laughed.

Her tits were wonderful to watch they used to remind me of two plump seal pups bouncing about oblivious of the world around them.

That day my visit to the bathroom hadn’t been enough for little Elvis, he perked obstinately while I gnawed at the corners of my cucumber sandwich.

I could feel the wetness of the cucumber on my tongue, its saltiness, I’d read enough porn to know that this was a good thing.

Quietly I sat thinking about how I longed for the normal things in life.

I wanted a girlfriend, the sort that mother wouldn’t approve of, the sort that did not come with a safety valve and a puncture repair kit.

I wanted sex twice a day with someone other than myself; I wanted to get a job, leave home, to wear shirts open and without having to wear a vest.

As I ate slowly I visualised myself naked, surrounded by beautiful women all fondling my dangly bits, but then my vision abruptly came to an end when mother stood up and announced that it was time for her to go feed father upstairs. This normally took her around twenty minutes as first she had to go and liquidize his sandwiches and de-lump his rice pudding, so that left Aunt Vi and myself alone.

For some reason that day, I felt different, it was as though a wind of change had blown in, or maybe that was the cucumber sandwiches taking effect, who knows, all I know is that from that moment on my life would change forever.

With my head lowered I waggled my feet beneath the table and looked at Aunt Vi through my fringe, well not at her more, at her gigantic tits.

That was when I remembered a story I had read in “Big Jugs Weekly”, the one where a man had used his feet to touch a woman up while having dinner in some fancy restaurant.

As soon as I had thought that I could hear little Elvis goading me on “Do it, do it…Oh God please do it”.

I kicked off one of my suede hush puppies and flexed my toes. Then I sloped a little into my chair, I felt something hard but that was just the table leg, I reached a bit more and touched Aunt Vi´s shin.

She jumped a little so quickly I rubbed up and down, still peering through my fringe I slid my foot a touch higher.

I gave her my manliest look, then strained to reach her thighs, but the fricking table was too long so I slouched lower.

Finally I reached her upper legs, I felt her move her legs apart for me and so I went right in there, I felt undergarments, thick ones, so like a terrier digging in a tunnel my toes edged their way in. I rubbed slowly at first in no particular fashion, but then I had the bright idea of rotating my foot round and round.

I thought of next doors Cocker Spaniel, it always went mad if you rubbed her back in a circular motion, before long in a Cocker Spaniel type way Aunt Vi’s right leg started twitching up and down.

Aunt Vi moaned and said “Oh Kevin, oh Kevin yes”, I tried to lift my head to see her face but it hurt my neck, so I just carried on judging only by the sheer sounds of pleasure coming from Aunt Vi.

My foot felt sticky and hot, extremely hot actually, maybe I shouldn’t have been doing this?…Aunt Vi after all was no Cocker Spaniel, she was come to think of it, more like a Bull dog.

Then all of a sudden I heard mothers voice, she was coming down the stairs, in fright I kicked back to get myself up at the table. In doing so I catapulted Aunt Vi backwards in her chair, hitting her head on the dresser. Her breasts now flopping up into the air almost out of her cardigan.

“Oh dear mother of God, what’s going on?” mother shouted as she heard the crash.

I scrambled up and announced “Quick Aunt Vi’s had a funny turn, I will go and get her a glass of water”.

Limping with one shoe off and one shoe on I proceeded into the kitchen, sniping to myself “Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”.

I came back in to find mother helping Aunt Vi over to the sofa, I handed the water over sheepishly, mother grabbed it and helped Aunt Vi to drink it.

What had I done?

I couldn’t believe what I had done, poor Aunt Vi I had traumatised her and ruined mothers best dinner service in the process. I felt like a dirty, disgusting little boy, but I also felt a little smug with it.

Like a thief in the night I took off up the stairs to take refuge in my bedroom, I felt safe there surrounded by my many centrefolds from “Big Jugs Weekly”.

At last I heard the front door open then close and mother called up the stairs “Kevin it’s alright Aunt Vi’s gone home to rest, she looked quite flushed, poor dear”. I sighed with relief, thank the Lord she hadn’t said anything about what I had done.

I got undressed and into my night-clothes then slipped under my duvet, I suddenly felt quite pleased with what I had finally done. At long last I had touched a womans ´moomoo´, really felt what it was like, well almost felt what it was like (I really must remove my sock next time, that’s for sure).

As I cuddled into my bed I could have sworn that I heard little Elvis calling to me from inside my pyjamas…”Use the force Kevin, use the force”. I ignored him and turned on my side clutching my teddy Edward, oh how I loved my teddy, he had given me many hours of pleasure over the years.

Three hours later I was still awake, I lifted my covers and sure enough ´he´ was awake, the little bugger just wouldn’t settle. “Bastard, Bastard go to sleep” I shouted under my covers, but little Elvis stood proud. So that was it I had to go on to my computer, in a last attempt to calm the beast beneath my bed covers.

After surfing around the net for two hours I finally found some free porn, well actually it was a picture of a woman with huge black circles blotting out her pink bits, but “ahhhhhhhhhh” it did the trick, at last little Elvis would rest now.

Then I made a mental note once again, to ask someone how to turn off the child-proof settings on my pc.

The next morning, I decided that I’d try to further broaden my sexual horizons, maybe look for someone younger than Aunt Violet. After all I was twenty years old and I’d never been kissed by anyone or anything other than my mother, Aunt Vi, a childhood sweetheart and next doors Cocker Spaniel.

I wanted the real thing, I wanted to be loved, to be normal, what the fuck was I on about?

I just wanted sex!

I got dressed in my best pick-up gear which consisted of my black track-suit with the red stripe, my white tennis shoes and my huge gold sovereign ring that grandpa George had given me on his death bed. I was going for the ´gansta rapper´ look and I think I carried it off quite well.

Then I practised my chat up lines, “Hey Baby wanna get it on?” and “Hey how you doing?”

Yep I was hot, sizzling and I had the urge, I knew today would be the one. But there was something missing, I thought my hair could do with some fixing up, so I went into the bathroom and got some of fathers pile cream and smoothed it into my hair, it was slick and so was I.

I moseyed on down to breakfast and sat at the table, mother came in “Kevin what a handsome boy you are today, where are you going?”

She placed a large plate of eggs and bacon in front of me and smiled in that motherly way.

“Erm well I thought seeing that I did not have to go to college today I might venture into town”.

“Town why town? What’s there that’s so important that you’d leave your poor mother alone in the house, on your one day off” she said annoyingly.

“Nothing´s in town, I just thought I’d go out and you are not alone you have father” I replied quickly, before she had time to whimper and make me feel bad.

“Oh but Kevin you know that father is in bed all the time, the only time he moves is when he needs the potty” mother said as a last try to make me feel guilty.

Then luckily the phone rang and mother went to answer it, I could hear her speaking to Aunt Vi.

I panicked and got up quickly out of my chair, grabbed my jacket and escaped from the house while mother chatted.

As I sat on the bus staring out of the window I wondered what my day would bring, would I return to the house still a virgin, or would I return a man?

All the other times I had returned with nothing hotter than a soggy bag of chips in my hand.

The bus reached the high street and I got off with a sense of purpose, I surveyed my surroundings and made the decision to linger around the bookstore. I’d seen students in there on many occasions, girl ones.

As soon as I thought this, little Elvis woke up from his slumber, bastard!

My track-suit bottoms peeked like a scouts tent and what was worse was little Elvis had decided to twitch. I felt like a man with a ferret in his trousers, God how embarrassing. I pulled my top over my bits and walked into the store, it was full of people browsing and talking quietly.

Making my way over to the poetry shelf I glanced around for a victim, I mean a girl to speak to. As I approached I saw a very pretty woman flicking through a large book, she was tall, slim and had the most beautiful blonde hair. She stood reading running her finger slowly along the curve of her neck, she licked the tip of her finger to turn the page. I wanted to be that finger, I so wanted her to lick me but she did not give me a second look.

Then she turned around and that’s when my vision of loveliness was dissolved, she was hideously deformed, she had no tits!

I shrugged and turned and walked out of the store, maybe I’d need to try another place.

I stopped and looked across the street and saw a café, yes that was it, I would go for a coffee, an espresso, I’d heard that was fashionable so I crossed and went in. When I got in I was greeted by a handsome teenager, he said “Hi welcome to Cyber Palace, do you require a table or a booth with a computer?”

A computer I thought?

Trying to sound cool I replied “Oh a booth of course”.

He showed me to the back of the room where I ordered a large espresso with a chocolate bean topping.

The café was almost empty except for a fat man in a very ill-fitting grey sweatshirt and loose jeans. He sat lurching over his keyboard, stopping now and then to rub his hands speedily on his thighs. Every so often he would peer around the café then behind him like some overweight crazed owl, as he did this, I noticed that he had thick white coffee froth clinging to his moustache.

When he saw me his tiny almost black eyes widened, then hastily he returned to looking at his screen. After 10 minutes or so he switched the computer off and left the café, I was left alone thinking well where the hell are all the girlies?

The teenager came back with my coffee and he said “Shit it’s been dead in here ever since the library offered free use of their computers”. He sat next to me and then added “Do you mind if I sit here with you, I’m bored as fuck, can I smoke?”

Before I could reply he had already lit his fag up and was puffing at it like a man possessed.

“Well how long have you worked here” I asked politely.

“Oh about 4 months now I stay for the perks, I get to play on the computers all day for free” he replied.

“Well doesn’t that get boring? I mean there is only so much you can do on a computer”.

“No” he said, “Shit man you can go in and out of chat rooms, download music, movies, porn, and best of all you get to meet bucket loads of nymphomaniacs”.

“Can you, do you?” I enquired interestedly.

“Yes, want me to show you?” he smiled and took over my keyboard.

“So what hoists your main sail?” he asked.

“Oh erm tits, tits yes women with huge tits” I said while scratching my balls through my pocket like some dirty old man.

“OK there yah’ go, tits, Big & Beautiful, that ought to do yah” he stood up and went back over to the till.

I peered like a little boy presented with a pile of Christmas gifts, but with one major difference, obviously I had a hard-on the size of Blackpool Tower. I’d never seen so many perfectly formed breasts in one place, tits from all over the world, round black pert ones, droopy mouth-watering white ones, small nipples, large nipples, saucer sized nipples. Oh my God I’d died and gone to titty heaven!

I soon forgot about meeting any real women, fuck it I was as happy as a pig in mud.

The teenager came back announcing that his name was Jack.

“I’m Kevin, pleased to meet you and thanks, thanks for the tits, erm tips”.

Jack laughed “Yah’ know you can go in chat rooms and meet real women, you don’t have to just sit and look at tits all day”.

What I could talk to real women too?

“Come on” he said “I’ll show you a good place where the women are gagging for it”.

Again he took the keyboard and before long we were chatting to a woman by the name of “Bored Housewife”.

Within 10 minutes she was telling us how she wanted to be taken from behind while doing the washing-up, it was amazing. Jack said “Come on let´s put a name in for you, what do you fancy?”

I sat thinking and looking at the other names on the screen, I too wanted to advertise my wears so I said “Kevin 9incher”.

Jack laughed loudly “Shit, yep you might as well lie, most of us do it”.

“I aint lying, it is 9 inches” I smiled proudly.

He smirked and said “Hmm if you say so mate”.

Jack left again and went back to the till just in case any other customers came in. I was left alone to look down the list of names.

Oh yes there was one which caught my eye “Double DeeDee”. I sent a message to her and she replied within seconds, it all started quite quickly, before long I was running my cyber fingers in and out of her moist, wet pussy.

Little Elvis kept on rearing up and down like a bucking bronco; it was all going wonderfully until she said those six little words “I want to suck your cock”.

It was then that Elvis exploded!

I was covered, my track-suit bottoms were soaked, I felt so embarrassed as I made my way to the bathroom. Jack looked up and grinned at me, he knew and I knew, shit how completely embarrassing.

I cleaned myself up, paid for my coffee and the use of the computer, Jack said “Well cum’ again won’t you” with a wicked sneer and a wink.

With a red face I replied “Yep I will, not sure when though, got to hurry or I’ll be late for my bus”.

I more a less ran to the bus stop praying that there would be one there, I did not want to wait for a bus wearing my sticky wet nylon trousers. Once on the bus I found myself grinning, that was until I remembered that I still hadn´t found out how to remove the child settings on my computer.

Finally I got home and as I opened the door mother called out “Kevin, Aunt Vi’s here, she’s alright now”.

I coughed and shouted back “Oh good, glad to hear it”, then made my way up the stairs to my room.

My heart pounded as I pictured Aunt Vi telling mother about what I had done to her, but then I thought no she wouldn’t. How could she tell mother that I had done that to her without admitting that she had let me do it, no she couldn’t?

Moments later I heard the front door then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, there was a knock at my door, then a voice.

“Kevin, Kevin it’s me Aunt Vi, can I come in?”

Oh fuck what the hell was I going to say?

Like an idiot I replied “Of course you can just a minute, I’m not decent”.

Hearing that Aunt Vi opened the door straight away!

“It’s OK your mothers out at church, I am looking after your father for an hour, we’re quite alone”.

I gulped, Elvis perked, Aunt Vi moved in with her enormous mouth gaping open like a whale shark. Before long she was sucking the life force from me with those lipstick smattered sink plunging red lips of hers.

She stopped and I caught my breath, “Oh Kevin I want you to touch me again, please Kevin do it again”.

Aunt Vi stroked my face and then said “I’ll let you see my chest Kevin if you do it”.

I stood amazed as she started to unbutton her tight fitting blouse extremely slowly, while looking up and flitting her eyelids. There in front of me was a mammoth pair of tits encased in a large white lace bra, before long it was off.

Aunt Vi pushed me onto my bed and followed bearing her weight on top of me, her tits hung like heavy coconuts right in my face.

I couldn’t breathe, I shrugged inwardly and thought “What the fuck” and grabbed them, I sank my teeth into one of her large brown nipples. I sucked and sucked like a greedy baby, rubbing and jiggling her mounds of flesh.

“Kevin oh’ Kevin yes, Oh Kevin” Aunt Vi breathed.

She then sat upright over me and lifted her skirt, she had no underwear on what so ever, her large pussy was there, just six inches away from my nose.

It reminded me of one of the carpet samples I’d seen hanging outside the Persian rug shop earlier in the day.

Aunt Vi whispered, “Touch me Kevin, now quickly before your mother returns”.

Before I could say another word Aunt Vi moved forward and forced her pussy into my face, I could smell her, wool and lavender and something else. She gripped my head with her hands and pushed me deeper into her, I did not want to be there but it was too surreal to believe. I had dreamt of this moment, tasting a woman, playing with a womans ´moomoo´, but not Aunt Vis´ in particular, it had all been a terrible mistake perpetrated by evil little Elvis.

I pushed Aunt Vi off of me and onto the bed, she laid there looking at me, tits out, pussy showing, it was then that little Elvis spoke “Use the force Kevin, use the force”.

Within moments I was licking Aunt Vis´ hot, juicy pussy. I kept my eyes clammed shut and just gasped now and then for air.

I kept telling myself that Aunt Vi wasn’t that old, not that bad, I mean for a women in her forties, she was like an older but larger Marilyn Munroe.

Surely she deserved a little treat now and then.

I spent what seemed a lifetime down there, fiddling about, trying different things, listening for her reaction, one finger, two fingers, and three, my tongue, pinching, nibbling, biting etc.

This woman seemed to like anything that I did, so I just carried on without thinking.

She tasted strange; I did not know if it was the normal taste of a woman. It wasn’t bad, not really nice but not horrible.

It reminded me a bit of pork rind, no maybe chicken.

Then I felt Elvis straining at my pants, he wanted in, but no he wasn´t getting any action as we heard the church clock chime, it wouldn’t be long before mother was back.

Aunt Vi grabbed my head, pulled me up and kissed me.

“Kevin darling you must stop, I know you want to carry on but your mother will be back soon, quickly!”

She got up and started to put her bra back on, she looked at me all the time, smiling like a mischievous child.

“You’re a naughty boy Kevin you know that don’t you”, I just smiled back and in my most sexy voice I said “Yep I am, women go mad for me”.

She kissed me again then left the room; I fell back on to the bed and let out a huge sigh of relief.

Before long I heard mother and Aunt Vi’ left, I stayed in my room until teatime.

“Kevin I do hope you didn’t mind being left with your Aunt” mother said as she served up tea.

“Nope it was OK, I was reading in my room” I replied while tucking into my sausage and mash.

That night I went to bed earlier than usual, I had to appease Elvis.

Morning came and sure enough little Elvis was awake long before I wanted him to be, annoying little bastard!

I say little, but from what I’d seen on the internet little Elvis was huge, he was a magnificent specimen of maleness, he was my ticket to ride.

The only thing was no one but me knew the size of my nob, no one else had actually seen it, well except for mother and a childhood friend many years ago. I sighed and thought to myself “If we never had to wear clothes I’d be right in with the girlies”.

That was when I had my first brain wave; I needed a way of advertising my wears, a way of letting girls know what I had in my trousers. I sat for a while longer, deep in thought. Then I remembered the t-shirt mother had got me on my 17th birthday. It was a white t-shirt with a picture of me on it and underneath it read “Mummies little soldier”.

Yes that was it, I would get a t-shirt with a picture of my bits on it. Yes that was it, no, no it wasn´t!

What an earth was I thinking?

But I could get some photos to send to the likes of Double Dee Dee, how could I get a picture good enough to use that would be the problem.

I had tried already on several occasions to take photographs of him but he just wouldn’t fit in the picture and the one time I did actually manage too, things had gone horribly wrong.

I’d walked in to the chemist to collect my photos and old Mrs Green had greeted me saying, “Kevin, why it’s young Kevin what can I do for you my boy?”

“Well I have pictures, you know, holiday snaps”, I’d replied trying to act innocent, “I’ve come to collect them”.

Then I’d handed over my ticket stub and waited, only to hear old Mrs Green screech “Oh my! Oh dear these really aren’t what you want in your photo album Kevin”.

Hearing that I froze on the spot, with little Elvis proudly perking in my pants, secretly whispering “That would be me”.

She’d then put my pile of photographs on the counter, sighed adding “These have a red label on them Kevin, they must be faulty, let’s look through them and see where you went wrong”. All I did was cringe and I remembered my face burning up, the beads of perspiration gathering on my forehead.

Old Mrs Green went through each one of my photos one by one “Ah I see what you’ve done, you’ve got your thumb in most of them” she’d concluded smiling.

“Look and they are very out of focus, very dark, I think you may have had camera shudder”.

“Oh erm yes we went to Cleethorpes for the week it was very cold, rainy nasty weather” I’d spluttered somewhat relieved that there had been no clear photos of Elvis.

Then like any other customer I paid for the photos and left.

I swore there and then that I’d never go back, I swore that I’d never venture onto the dark side again, it was all that bastards Elvis’s fault, as always.

Everything I’d ever tried to do with a camera had failed, one time I tried to take a photo while proudly holding my manhood in the shower, but I slipped and went headfirst through the shower door.

The other time I balanced the camera on my windowsill, stood there grasping my dick and the window cleaner knocked on the window. So really my efforts were all doomed from the start, after all I was Kevin Bradstock and nothing ever went right for me.

On the way home I tore the photos up and threw them in the park bin, what a waste of money that was!

At home I watched TV for an hour or two then decided to visit my newly found friend Jack again, I felt sure that he’d be able to help me.

When I got there as usual the café was almost empty, enthusiastically I told Jack about my plan to take a photo of my little Elvis adding “I could get a girlfriend easily if they saw my dick”.

I explained that I´d even considered the printed t-shirt idea.

But he didn’t sound impressed with my ideas, instead he took a long drag of his fag and said “No Kevin you have more chance of being arrested if you do that”. How many other guys do you see wearing pictures of their cocks?”

I sighed deeply; he was right, sulkily I stuck my face into my coffee and muttered under my breath. Jack got up to empty his ashtray then returned saying “Although, the taking pictures of your cock aint’ such a bad idea, I mean it’s the done thing on the internet”.

I grinned and with hope I asked “So will you take it for me? Cus´ I already tried and it comes out all blurry, I’ll go buy a throw away camera from Boots”.

“Nah! I fucking won’t, what do you think I am?” Jack laughed.

He got up, and headed towards the counter, I thought to myself “Oh shit now I´ve offended him, or he thinks am a gay or something now”.

He then dug about under the counter, within a few seconds he came back with a small silver camera and some wires. “Here take that, you don’t need a film, it’s got a delay timer on it and a built in flash” he explained.

I looked puzzled “No film you say, then how do I get copies?”

“It’s a digital camera, plugs into your puter, it´s easy” he said.

Then he started to tell me about how he’d taken photos of some girls he knew.

“It’s easy Kev, point and press mate, then you download them”.

Puzzled I said “Download them” then he explained.

I grinned and said “Ok now tell me more about these girls”.

“Well I meet them at clubs, pubs, in here, ask them out, take them back to my room” he said grinning evilly.

“Then we have some beers and I suggest a bit of fun with the camera and before yah know it, there they are nekid, legs akimbo”.

Stunned I asked “You mean they let you take photos of them wearing nothing?”

“Well yeah, I tell them it’s only a bit of fun and that I’ll erase the pics after”.

“And do you” I enquired.

“Nah! Are you kidding” he laughed, “Come on I’ll show you them”.

For the next hour we sat browsing through Jacks immense collection of dirty pictures, he had girls of all shapes and sizes, all colours.

“Wow I can’t believe this, you say they let you” I said in complete disbelief.

“Yep it’s surprising what most women will do with a few beers inside them Kev, it’s easy, you’ll learn, you just have to gain their trust mate”.

After that I felt as horny as hell, I envied Jack more than ever, shit he had real naked women in his bedroom, barring Aunt Violet I only ever had posters of them in mine. Oh how I began to envy the good looking, free internet, fancy coffee making Jack.

At long last Jack got some other customers and left to serve them, I logged into the chat room that Jack had shown me, I typed in “Kevin 9 inches”, then sat back and waited for a sex hungry woman to take my bait.

Sure enough one did, and then another, then another, it was fricking marvellous.

Just as I was gonna log off, a woman sent me a private message. Her name was “Buxom Brummie”, wow a local woman, so I stayed and chatted to her. It turned out that she lived about 15 miles from me, usual story, unhappily married, no sex in years etc.

Her name was Jane and she was aged 35. We did the cybersex thing then she told me about her fantasy, how she wanted a stranger on a train to touch her up. I suddenly had an idea, I was a stranger, and I could be that stranger.

Over the next hour or so we planned to make her fantasy come true, it was the least I could do, I mean I wanted pussy, she wanted a man.

She said “I want you to be forceful, no sex just toy with me, because if I have sex with you I would feel as though I was cheating on my husband”. I agreed after all it was practice for me, little Elvis could wait for a little bit longer, I was in no rush to let´s say “Wet the baby’s head”.

I adored women, I wanted to have sex so badly, but for now I´d be happy just touching them up.

We planned the event for next day as I wouldn’t be at college, she would be free from hubby because he was working a double shift. I would meet with her on the circular line train, I’d wear a disguise, and she’d be wearing a rain coat and carrying a Sainsburys shopping bag.

The plan was simple, get on carriage three, work my way to the toilet, meet her, do it and leave.

I asked her for a photo so I would recognise her, but she said she had none, so all I had to go by basically was her own description. Blonde hair, petite, raincoat, carrying the bag etc.

After logging off I decided not to tell Jack about Jane, I knew he’d only laugh and make fun of me. I imagined him smirking at me and saying “Not getting any Kevin?”

So instead I made my excuses to leave adding, “Ok got to go now, lots to do tomorrow, essays and lots of college crap”.

That night in my mirror I practised talking tough “You looking at me? You talking to me?” then I went to bed in a highly excited condition.

Morning came and I rushed around looking for the right clothes to wear, I had to look menacing, rough and ready according to Jane. How could I look rough and ready, I had no stubble, nothing slightly menacing in my wardrobe. So I opted for my large winter coat, the red and white woolly bobble hat that mother had knitted for me last Christmas and a false beard left over from Halloween when I was 12.

I topped my new look off with a very sexy pair of John Travolta-like sunglasses, he always played sly mean muthers!

I looked the part through and through.

Later I left the house after breakfast with my disguise in a carrier bag.

As planned I put on my disguise in the station toilets and boarded the circular line train and made my way for carriage three.

I sat for a time looking out of the window wondering when we would reach Janes stop, but before we got there I noticed a small blonde woman hurry by me, she was in a rain coat carrying a Sainsburys bag, this was it, and this was my cue.

I stood up and followed, as planned Jane walked into the toilet, I followed her. She was a lot older than she had told me but then most women lie about their age don’t they?

I shrugged and quickly closed and locked the door, grabbed her menacingly and said in my best Mafioso voice “If you make a move you’ll be sorry” as I said this I squeezed myself up against her.

Little Elvis was as hard as rock and ready for action; I unpacked him and pushed him into the small of Janes back.

Jane said, “No please, take my money”, I said still in character “I don’t want your money lady”, then shoved her down on her stomach over the toilet. Jane said quite convincingly “Don’t hurt me please; I’ll do anything you want”.

I hiked up her coat and her skirt and tore down her tights and knickers, I rammed one hand between her legs and started to do as she had said “toy” with her. With the other hand I fumbled in her blouse and pushed her bra to one side, grabbing her tit. Oh God this was good, Elvis strained at my pants, he wanted it bad, but I knew that wasn’t the deal. I pushed her down further and stuck my head between her legs. It did not taste very pleasant, in fact she smelt old, and a faint whiff of kipper, far stranger than Aunt Vi had done.

But none the less a deal was a deal, so I lapped and lapped, bit and ravaged her with my mouth. Her whole body shuddered, every part of her was shaking, and then after a short while I just got up, rearranged my beard and bobble hat and left quickly.

Even though Jane hadn’t been what I had expected it had been a good experience, very erotic, very pleasing for Elvis who had given a nine gun salute as usual all over the inside of my winter coat. I felt so proud, so tall as I travelled back home.

Though I was so glad to be rid of that bloody itchy beard and bobble hat.

I got in the house and went straight for a bath; I soaked for ages in the bath tub, going through every last bit of the kinky, wonderful experience. That evening I logged in to the chat room to speak to Jane, I wanted to hear how wonderful I was. But to my dismay the first thing Jane said was “Oh Kevin I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it, Gary did his back in and was sent home from work, you must hate me”.

I sat frozen to my chair, unable to take in what I had just seen appearing on my screen.

Quickly I typed “You mean you never turned up????”

“No I told you I couldn’t make it” Jane replied, “I am truly sorry, maybe another day, yes?”

“No” I typed, “Definitely not, erm I never turned up either, I had to go to London on business”.

“Oh well no harm done then Kevin” typed Jane, followed by she had to go because her husband was calling her.

I couldn’t believe what I had done, I had actually molested an innocent woman on the train, I was truly now a fully-fledged pervert.

That night I lay awake in my bed, hoping that it had all been a very bad dream, and then I tried to work things out in my head.

I’d worn a disguise, worn gloves to buy my ticket, nope no one would know it was me, Jane wouldn’t tell, she´d have to explain it all to her husband. I was ok, there was no way to trace me, I was in the clear, shit I was a pervert. After hours of worrying I must have drifted off to sleep.

But a few hours into the night I awoke sweating, I had dreamt of waking up and seeing my photo emblazoned all over the morning papers. The headline ´Train sex attacker at large´.

Underneath that ´Police to DNA test everyman in the area´.

I sat up in my bed, swaying back and forth, I was going to end up in prison, I´d finally get to have sex, but it would be with a 6ft 6 hairy tattooed man named Doreen!

After sitting awake for what seemed like hours I awoke to the sound of my mother calling me “Kevin, breakfast is ready, you’ve over slept”. Slowly I walked downstairs and as I entered the dining room mother said “Look I’ve got you a lovely smoked mackerel for your breakfast, eat it up”.

All the memories of that woman came rushing back to me, as I met the smell of that oily kipper, her smell, her taste, my guilt.

My stomach churned as I ran for the bathroom.

After throwing up I hobbled to the sofa and lay there, what had I done?

Mother came in “Oh you poor darling you look so pale, here sit up and drink your tea”. She reached and turned the TV on for me, “Just rest and watch television dear, I’ll go cook you a soft-boiled egg instead, with soldiers”.

As I sipped my tea a woman read the headlines, “Armed man sexually molests elderly lady on a train”. I coughed and spluttered my tea all over.

Mother ran in and started patting my back “Kevin, Kevin, that’s it, cough it up, it might be a gold watch”.

I sat feeling filthy and ashamed, watching; listening to what the newsreader had to say.

“It is believed the attacker, a man in his late twenties, held a gun to the woman’s back. Witnesses’ say he wore sunglasses and is said to be 5ft 10 inches to 6 ft tall. He has a large beard and was wearing a heavy coat and a distinctive striped red and white woollen hat with a bobble on the top.

His victim said he may have been of Indian origin, it is advised that no one approach him as he may be armed and dangerous”. This was followed by a badly drawn picture that luckily looked nothing like I did.

I gripped my cup and felt sick once more, mother said “Ooohw look he has a hat likes yours, where’s your bobble hat Kevin, it’s getting cold maybe you should get yours out” then she went into the kitchen.

Days went by and I felt too scared and sick to leave the house, mother just said “You have a tummy bug, poor boy” so I got to stay off from college.

On the Tuesday night Aunt Vi’ came to tea, she seemed very concerned about me. I had not gone to hug her at the door and I was sitting avoiding eye contact, I felt dirty, untouchable.

The news came on, this time they had the woman from the train appealing for witnesses, she was 59 years old and her hair wasn’t blonde it must have been a wig, she wasn’t attractive and she certainly did not look as I’d hoped. In fact after seeing her I just thought to myself “Fuck I am the victim here, she’s gross and no man would have touched her with a barge pole, she should be glad I mistook her for Jane”.

I know it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it made me feel better, I was the victim. Because of her mistaking Elvis for a gun I was a wanted armed felon, a sought after criminal. All I wanted was to please Jane, have some fun then leave but no!

Now I had this to think of for the rest of my life. I had been left as mentally and physically scarred by the whole event as the old lady had (or that is what I told myself).

Over the next few days I tried to put the terrible event behind me, after all I wasn’t a rapist or anything, it was all just an unfortunate mistake. I wasn’t the sort of man to molest an innocent woman on a train but no one would have believed my reason for doing so.

After a short while the police seemed to stop looking for the "Circular Line Pervert" (me) because they had real sex attackers to deal with and murderers etc. I suppose one old lady on a train wasn´t a "spree" so they thought it was not worth putting so much man power into it after all.  So I resumed my normal life again, college, the net, cybersex, wanking and flirting with Aunt Vi every Tuesday tea time.

Since Jack had shown me the chat room I’d spent most of my free evenings there and seeing that I had no social life what so ever, that meant I lived and died in it. By now I had built up quite a following of ladies, all of who wanted a piece of me, the piece being of course my rather splendid nob. I’d finally succeeded in taking a photo of little Elvis in all his full morning glory and it went down extremely well with the girlies.

There was no holding me back now that I had Jacks digital camera.

In fact I was even considering building myself a web site so that women from all around the world could pay homage to my pulsating beast.

Nightly I’d log on, get off, then go to bed; it became almost a ritual event.

Mother was happy because I was getting some early nights in and Elvis was happy because he got pulled frequently, I was happy because I had women falling over themselves to talk to me.

I was King Kevin of cyber-land, King Kevin with the enormous staff.

The bad thing was, I was still very much a virgin even though I’d had my face stuck in a pussy, I’d still yet to actually do the deed with anything else other than the hole in teddy Edwards back. This hung heavy on my mind and shadowed my every waking hour, I wanted sex and I wanted it soon!

Now that particular Friday evening I logged on and entered the chat room, it was the same as any other night but then suddenly I was messaged by a woman name ´Mistress Martha´. She was a bossy woman, in fact her first line to me was “Get down on your knees and worship me”.

I then typed back “Tell me what you have to worship”, then she began to send me a rather large file to download. I opened it with anticipation and found a beautiful woman dressed in leather, grasping a whip.

You wouldn’t believe what it looked like she was doing with the handle of the whip, my eyes popped out of my head and little Elvis popped out of my pyjamas. I sent her my nude photo and before long we were getting down and dirty in the cyber sense of the word.

Afterwards Mistress Martha allowed me to ask her some questions.

I started with the basics, are they your real tits, what is your favourite sexual position etc. ending with what do you do for a living?

To my complete surprise she said she was a tax inspector, well come to think of it, it never came as a surprise at all, dominant, nasty and shadowy.

Then came the best part of all Mistress Martha only lived a short distance from me in Edgbaston, suddenly I typed “Let’s meet”.

Well Mistress Martha agreed and I couldn’t believe my luck, it was to be on Sunday at 2pm, at her house. Now this time I knew that I was gonna be getting myself some sweet pussy, no more gnarly arsed old bags for me, oh no!

Mistress Martha was gorgeous, mid-thirties, voluptuous and a sick little puppy to-boot.

Sunday came and I sat in the bath flexing my flaccid chest muscles in the mirror, now to anyone else witnessing this I would have looked like a sad skinny git. But as I looked at myself I knew that I had what most women wanted, I had a tongue that was capable of licking for hours and a massive nob. All that was left now was to learn just how to use that massive nob and today was going to be my first trial run.

In readiness I’d watched many videos on the internet, I’d practised on teddy Edward and just to make certain I’d read up on all the tantric literature that I could get my hands on. I did not want little Elvis blowing this for me, making his grand finale before Mistress Martha was satisfied.

I stroked little Elvis lovingly and gave him a pep talk, I loved to stroke him I found it quite calming. He was, in my opinion a work of art, uncommonly long and tapering, not too wide, his head was large and commanding, he was perfection.

I shaved or rather I plucked the four hairs from my chin, and then I made sure that I smelled enticing, which really meant I washed my arm pits with mothers best soap. Then I dressed in my new seductive girl getting underwear, my black y-fronts, no worn out elastic for Mistress Martha, she deserved the very best. For a little added style I filled my pants up with baby powder and cleaned behind my ears, cus’ this sex machine was revved up and for a change had a place to go.

Pulling up my jeans, I tucked my vest in and slipped on my checked shirt, put my loafers on and winked sexily at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t want to arrive late so I took a taxi to Mistress Maratha’s house, she lived in a very posh area of the city, large houses, large cars and from what I’d seen, equally as large women.

I rang the door-bell and the door opened, standing there was Mistress Martha, she was just as beautiful as her picture, in fact even more so.

She had long dark brown hair, dark brown eyes and the most sensual golden coloured skin.

“Kevin, do come in” Mistress Martha purred, “I didn’t think you would have the bottle to turn up”.

I followed her into the vast hallway, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world Mistress Martha” I replied excitedly.

“Shall we get straight down to it then Kevin, let me see your dick”.

I unzipped my flies and unleashed the great beast, “Elvis has entered the building” I said grinning.

Mistress Martha smiled wickedly and licked her lips, “Follow me honey, let the games commence”.

We walked up the stairs and she opened the door of yet another large room, right in the centre was a round massive bath filled with fluffy white bubbles surrounded by lots of candles.

“Go in the next room and put those things on” she ordered, I scampered off like a little boy.

There in the next room on a chair lay some very odd items of clothing, a small pair of black zipped rubber pants, some leather and chain wrist things and a face mask with loads of zippers.

I undressed and started to put them on, I looked in the mirror, I looked like a black headed matchstick, thin and white.

I went back to the main room where Mistress Martha was standing “Undress me slave and bathe me” she barked.

I went over to her and leaned to kiss her, suddenly she slapped me on my face “I never told you to do that, do as I say and only as I say”.

So I did, I took off her robe then the rather small lace nightdress that she was wearing. Mistress Martha was a vision, her tits heaved like golden hills of sand and her lips glistened in the flickering candlelight.

I ran my hands briefly over one of her breasts just to touch the pert nipple that graced it, again I was slapped quite firmly. Eagerly I slid my hands down to remove her panties, but nope this wasn’t allowed, again I got a slapping. So instead I decided it was safer for me to just stick her in the bath instead.

I began sponging her creamy, bronze like flesh, meanwhile little Elvis stayed put trapped in his rubber prison. I washed her but I did not dare to speak to her because if and when I did so, she would hit me.

After a time, she got out of the water and then commanded me to go and lie on the bed.

She disappeared and a few minutes later she came back dressed in a tight rubber body suit with zippers in all the strategic places. Then in a deep and husky voice she said “Slave lick my shoes”, next “Brush my hair”, next “Pour me some wine”, order after order.

It was a bit like being home with mother “Kevin clean your room”, “Kevin put the rubbish out”.

After only so long I got quite fed up and said “Look when can I undress you?”

Mistress Martha said “What, what, you dare to ask me your mistress a question?”

Next she pushed me onto the bed and starting whipping me like a mad woman, little Elvis withdrew deeper inside my new rubber pants, next she grabbed me and cuffed me to the bed.

I lay there sweating like a pig in my rubber mask and then things I thought started to look up.

Mistress Martha climbed over me and straddled me, I thought yes at last, am gonna be fucked by a sex crazed woman, a young woman at that complete with her very own teeth.

But nope she did not touch my little Elvis, instead she undid the zipper over her left tit and rubbed her nipple slowly whispering “You want this don’t you slave?” Leaning forward she teased her sleek dark hair over my face, I spluttered; “Yes, yes I do, I want your tits and your pussy, please now” I gasped.

Throwing back her head she laughed loudly, and then she unzipped the zipper on the right side and knelt up rubbing both nipples in between her thumbs and forefingers.

“Mmmmmm how bad do you want me slave, tell me”, to which I replied “Please don’t tease me, I adore you, I worship you, I want you Martha”.

Suddenly I was struck hard on my face, “How dare you call me Martha, I am Mistress Martha to you slave”.

Now that was it, the last one hurt more than ever and my wrists were beginning to get sore, I was just about ready throw a tantrum, pick up my toys and go home when suddenly she unzipped the zipper that nestled perfectly between her legs.

Oh at last I would get to play, slowly she slid the zipper down, to show a bush of shiny black pussy hair, it shone like silk.

I licked my lips as she twirled her fingers seductively around in her bush, “I want it Mistress Martha, I want it now”.

“Mmmmmm and you shall get it in time slave, in time, be patient” she replied softly.

She played a little while longer with her nipples and with her black patch of fur, and then said “Time for you to play now”. She leant over and did my eye zippers up, slowly she slid her finger into my mouth. Her fingers tasted salty, her long slender fingers traced my upper lip, then she dug one of her very sharp talon like nails into my chin, it was painful but felt so good.

I began to suck her finger and bite it gently, she ordered me to stick my tongue out and then I felt flesh. Oh yes! I think it was her clit, but every time I leaned forward to get more of her she leaned back laughing cruelly.

After a few seconds of doing this she stopped, I couldn’t see her but I felt her hand slide along my chest, then she bit one of my nipples hard, I yelled out in pain. She traced her fingers slowly down to my rubber pants, and finally I heard the zipper going down. Elvis sprang out like a commando hitting enemy shores; Yes at last he was free!

Mistress Marthas hands went all over him then she said, “You do have a huge cock don’t you slave, it belongs to me now”.

I felt her tongue flick the end of my hot sweaty nob, she gripped it with both hands and pulled at it, God this was well worth all the waiting. Then I felt Elvis being engulfed by her rounded moist mouth, this was heaven, I was finally getting me a blowjob.

I lay there gasping and trying to get my breath, it was hot inside the rubber mask and she was very good at what she was doing. I strained at the cuffs and begged her to let me go, but she just laughed and sucked my dick harder and harder.

I could feel Elvis getting ready to burst, I focused and told him to wait, for once the clever little bastard did as he was told.

Mistress Martha sucked, chewed and abused my dick for what seemed like hours, I did not want it to end, but it did.

I felt her slide up and again she straddled me, she leaned forward and I was once more allowed to just touch her with the tip of my tongue.

Then she commanded sternly “Open wide slave” and being the obedient one I opened as wide as I could.

Seconds after, screaming at the top of my lungs I spluttered “What the fuck is that, that’s a cock”.

Mistress Martha laughed hysterically then began to unzip my eyes, “What you don’t like Mistress Martha any more slave”.

“You, you” I shouted “You dirty cow, you aint a woman”.

She, he whatever it was leant over and undid the cuffs, I sat up almost choking ripping the rubber mask off me.

Before Mistress Martha could say another word I ran like a rat up a drainpipe into the next room, grabbed my trousers, shoes and shirt and sped off down the stairs, cursing and dressing along the way.

In the background I could hear Mistress Martha laughing like a hyena and shouting “Come back, you know I give good head baby”.

I ran out of the front door into the safety of the street, I was free at last, no rubber mask, no cuffs no sex-crazed freak. After a time I stopped running and started walking fast instead, I could feel the rubber pants chaffing my legs as I waddled along uncomfortably in them.

By the time I had got home I had full blown nappy rash, I was as sore as hell and little Elvis wasn’t talking to me.

I ran upstairs into the bathroom, climbed into the shower and tried to wash Mistress Martha off of me. I felt dirty, cheap and used, I’d been taken advantage of, treated like a cheap toy.

I thought “Oh my God what if this turns me gay”.

I pulled down the rubber pants and with it ripped half of my pubic hair off, Elvis lay there limp and saddened by the whole squalid event. I took mothers loofah and I rubbed Elvis clean to within an inch of his life. I just did not know what else to do, I felt alone, I thought it was best never to tell anyone about what had happened.

I said “goodnight” to mother even though it was only 8pm, she smiled and kissed my cheek.

“Night Kevin, sweet dreams, now you be good and clean your teeth before you go to bed” she said warmly.

That night I lay in bed staring at my bedroom walls, all the tits on my walls stared back at me, but Elvis did not stir, he’d been traumatised.

In the morning I got up feeling like shit, I hadn’t slept a wink, still Elvis hadn’t moved.

I sat at the breakfast table eating my toast and marmalade, sipping my tea and pondering the night’s events. Then I heard mother coming down the stairs, “Kevin, Kevin darling”.

I looked up and to my horror, mother stood there holding up the pair of rubber pants in front of her. “They’ll be wonderful for your father Kevin, how very clever of you to have brought these home, did you get them from that new disability shop in the high street in town?”

I didn’t know what to say, my head just fell into my corn-flakes.

Mother just rambled away happily, “They’ll certainly save on bed linen, and you know your poor father has so many accidents these days, you are such a thoughtful boy Kevin”.

Mumbling “Yes mother” I wiped the milk off my chin.

This whole sex thing was not going well for me, I considered packing the entire thing in but I wanted to save little Elvis.

I looked up and saw mother in the kitchen wiping my rubber pants down with a wet cloth, I picked up my mug of tea, that’s when it came to me.

The reason for all this embarrassment and guilt was in my hand, it was the mug I was holding, my “Mummys Best Boy” mug. The reason was there in front of me, it was her, yes my mother, Edna Bradstock, the wrinkled, miserly, moaning old dear in the kitchen.

She was the reason that at twenty years old I was without a girlfriend, still at college and dressed like a jumble sale reject. She was the one who got me all my clothes from the local Oxfam shop, she was the one who demanded almost all my benefit for my keep. She was the one feeding me on Bernard Mathews Dinosaur shapes and telling me to wear a vest, which I would dutifully tuck in my Y fronts day after day after day, just to please her.

I was twenty years old with just £344.32 to my name, which I’d been saving up for like 10 years now. I Kevin Bradstock was a wimp, too weak to even disagree with my own mother, she had made me into a complete and utter mothers boy.

No wonder I was so disliked by other humans.

It was her; I lowered my head and scowled at her through my fringe.

That was it I couldn’t live like this anymore, I wanted to be like other young men, smoke, drink, take drugs, have sex, ride a motorbike, wear leather, burp and fart without having to say “Pardon my manners”.

I wanted to be wild, I wanted to be free but most of all at that very moment in time, I wanted to drown my mother in the sink, or suffocate her with her knitted tea cosy, but of course I never did.

Mournfully I went upstairs and sat at my computer desk, I should have been dressing ready for college, but I didn’t feel much up to going.

It was just another thing I hated about my life. I never wanted to go to college, I’d been going for ages now, I think I’d tried almost every subject out that they had to offer:

Firstly it was carpentry, ever since I made mother a toothbrush stand when I was 10 years old, she´d been going around telling every man, woman and child that I wanted to be a carpenter just like the son of God.

I definitely did not want to study carpentry, but being me, I did it for my mum, so I wouldn’t upset her. Everything I ever did was for her, never for me.

I wanted to be a train driver up until I was 11.

Then after going to Aunt Bettys funeral when I was 14, I wanted to be a mortician. I can remember looking at her in her casket thinking “God you have never looked better, I love how they’ve coloured your cheeks”.

Aunt Betty, I hadn’t thought of her in a long while. She was a wonderful old lady, mothers older sister, very small and pale looking, but always smiling. I have fond memories of her and I missed her a great deal. Every Sunday she would take me to church and then to the park to feed the ducks. I remember she stank like rotten eggs and was always pissed out of her head on gin, but she was always there for me to talk to. Aunt Betty would have understood what I was going through.

Anyway back to my mother, she had forced me emotionally into carpentry, I hated it and I never wanted to make things.

At the age of 16 I had already decided quite rightly on a suitable career for myself without mothers help, I wanted to be a porn star, a cock king.

But when it came to career day at school it wasn’t listed and mother had already filled in my sheet and given it in to my form tutor. So with a heavy heart I started to go to college, after doing carpentry for two years and failing the exam I then went on to try my hand at car mechanics.

I was only in that class for 3 months and then they asked me politely to leave. I thought it was best not to make a fuss as I had just blown the colleges’ mini metro up in a mix up with spray paint cleaner and petrol.

That then lead me to try cookery, this was also mothers idea, “Do you remember those lovely chocolate brownies you baked when you were 11 Kevin?”

Yes I remember them well; Father broke his false teeth on one of them, swallowed a molar and had to be rushed into hospital. I hated college cooking, all that waiting around to see if your Victoria sponge had risen. I wanted to be like the chefs on telly, I wanted to boss underlings about and cuss at them for making lumpy couscous. What’s more I wanted to know what couscous was!

Anyway I was again asked to leave that subject because I’d cursed a bit too often at my cooking partner and made her cry.

Following that I enlisted in the accountancy classes but again asked to leave as my snoring was disrupting the other students learning.

Then some bright spark suggested to my mother that I might be better at something more basic, such as bricklaying. Now I must admit I enjoyed that, I threw myself into the lesson as it made me feel manly. I even invested in a pair of huge baggy jeans, so that when I bent down my arse crack would show.

I just couldn’t stop constructing things, I built mum a new door step, a new TV cabinet, all out of old worldy bricks, it’s still standing, sort of. But it’s not quite strong enough for the TV so mum just has a few ornaments resting on it now.

After that I built her a new garden wall, which was a work of art, mum had the added bonus of showing it off to the neighbours. Well that is until one very windy day in June, when it fell down and crushed next doors first Cocker Spaniel Terence.

When that happened I thought it best that I discontinued that particular career path and try another.

My latest college course was flower arranging.

Yes flower arranging, three times a week I would go and stick fricking flowers into a bit of foam, stand around looking at them from all angles then write a paper on why the arrangement worked or why it hadn’t.

Nine times out of ten my paper was on why it hadn’t worked, very few words were needed to explain why; I hated fricking flowers and I wasn’t gay!

The only reason I was in this class was because no other tutor would agree to me attending one of their classes.

Ms Perkins was the only person who seemed to believe in me, in her words; “Well I don’t see why I can’t have him in my class, he simply needs a vocation, a guiding light and I feel that God has chosen me to be that light”.

Yep, Ms Perkins was a bible basher, which my mother simply loved.

Ms Perkins wasn’t that bad I must admit, she would often smile at me with a twinkle in her wide brown eyes and say “Oh Kevin, that simply is a work of art”, even though I knew and she knew that what she was actually looking at was a piece of crap.

I’d been in her class for fourteen months now, the exams were easy, but she didn’t feel that I was skilled enough to be let out into the wild world of floristry.

I on the other hand knew deep down why she wouldn’t recommend me for any apprentice positions, she had a crush on me, or at least I hoped she had. It made going to her classes a bit more exciting, dare I say it, even enticing?

Ms Perkins wasn’t bad to look at, single, late 30’s, slim, long auburn ponytail, small tits but beggars can’t be choosers, a handful’s more than enough when you don’t get any usually.

So I had hope, maybe our eyes would someday connect through a tussle of ivy and group of towering, ivory lilies.

Ha! you see all had not been lost, I had learnt something in her class, I’d learnt how to talk gay.

Well that was it, my life was fucked!

Reminiscing was as bad as looking to the future for me, I knew that every day would be a replay of the one before that.

It wasn’t before long, that I found myself peering into my blank computer screen, looking back at me I saw a skinny git with greasy hair and pimples.

I was never much to look at, but this time I began to feel unhappy at what I saw looking back at me.

“Kevin Bradstock” I thought, “What are you doing man, look at you!”

So I decided there and then that I should make a list of 5 things, which I wanted to do before I reached the age of 40, hopefully it would give me some kind of inspiration.

I dug around for a pen and sat pondering, ah yes I will start with “Number 1” have sex with another person (preferably a woman)

“Number 2” have more sex maybe with 2 women, “Number 3” kill mother, “Number 4” buy a motorbike and some tight jeans, “Number 5” well to be on the safe side, “Number 5” can be…erm star in a porn movie.

That way I will get some sex.

There I had done it, my list.

I looked at it for several moments then I got up and ran downstairs.

“Mother where’s the evening paper?”

“Oh it’s on top of the occasional table” she replied.

I’d always wondered why it was called the ´occasional table´, did it mean it was only sometimes a table?

Well there it was folded neatly untouched as always. I opened it to the classifieds and scanned down for the motor vehicles section, then motorbikes. There were lots of them a red Kawasaki, a blue Honda, a white Zannussi, with a spin cycle, but all of them were too expensive, all except one.

The advert read ´V.reg Honda C50, one careful owner, red and white, £225 o.n.o´.

I could just see myself, leather clad speeding my way to meet a lady for a night of unbridled passion and so may it seemed did little Elvis.

Since that unmentionable experience with Mistress Martha he’d been dormant like a large empty sausage skin, so I was relieved to feel my buddy perk up. That was it I had to have that bike, so tomorrow to the bank or should I say the post office I would go. I scribbled the number down from the advert and went off to the phone box on the corner. I didn’t want mother to hear of my plans, I could already hear her in my head “Kevin you can’t get a motorbike, you will die, Kevin wear your woolly hat under you helmet like a good boy”.

If all went well this coming Monday, I was going to be the proud owner of a motorbike and a pair of tight black sexy jeans.

The next day I overslept and by the time I’d got to the post office it was shut so instead I dropped in on Jack. He was busy doing what he did best, he was flirting with two girls from college. I envied the way he could think of just the right thing to say, at just the right time.

Unfortunately for Jack both girls left without giving him their phone numbers so I was left feeling quite smug when this happened.

It meant that I could tell Jack of my plans to buy a motorbike, it meant I had a chance of showing off for once.

Jack sat there smoking his fag while I told him of my new plan, excitedly I explained “If I got a motorbike I´d be sure to attract attention from the girlies”.

But arrogantly he just shrugged and said “Some of us don’t need gimmicks Kevin, some of us can get pussy without fast cars and bikes”.

Then he added annoyingly, “Why the hell don’t you take the money you wanna spend on a bike and get yerself a nice bit of pussy for a few hours, a tom?”

“Fuck it Jack” I growled, “I don’t wanna pay for pussy, I don’t want no fricking prostitute, I know I am sad, but I aint that fucking sad”.

“Anyway” I snarled and looked at him “It’s not pussy I can’t get, it is sex”.

To which he replied “Yeah so you say, I aint’ never heard of a guy going down on a woman unless they get to fuck her after, it’s the only reason we bloody do it. There´s nothing much to it mate, a quick shifty around, wait till she is moaning, then we get what we want”.

After hearing that I replied in a conceited voice “No Jack some of you don’t know how to do it properly, the rest of you are too selfish to learn. You might enjoy it more if you did, I am going to learn!”

“Oohw listen to you” Jack answered campily, “Look who’s getting all politically correct and fucking emotional”.

It made me feel so angry, turning I announced in my deepest voice:

“Women have feelings, they have needs, and it’s not all about getting it up”.

Then I left the café.

Shit! I did sound like a woman then, which made me think again about my experience with Mistress Martha. What if I’d been turned gay and hadn’t noticed till now?

Just as I was questioning myself, a very sexy woman with huge tits went by on a push bike and little Elvis poked me in the leg just to reassure me.

Seems I had been worrying for nothing, however my last comment to Jack gave me reason to question myself on another matter. Why had I been so ignorant, why was I looking for sex? After all it wasn’t like I’d never been with a woman, maybe it wasn’t what I’d expected but it was good. Maybe I was looking at everything in the wrong way, it should not all be about the sex, it should be about the woman. I was feeling lonely, using sex as a way to make myself feel better.

Pondering on my new found maturity I went to the post office to get my money out, then for a few hours I wandered about in town just to see if any girls would give me a second look, as always none did. During that time I went into shops that I’d never dared to go in before, the rave gear and skater shops. None of them had any tight jeans, they all seemed to have rather unflattering baggy trousers in stock, none of which would be suitable for my new sexy look. So I went into the charity shop just for a peek and to my complete and utter satisfaction there were several pairs of jeans on the rack. The old lady in there told me proudly “We sell a lot of these now, the worn look is in fashion”. I tried 7 pairs on in total, in the end I opted for a pair of black Lee jeans, they fitted snugly around my manhood and I figured they might tame him down a little while at the same time show off his size.

Happy I made my way to the bus stop to go home.

Looking out of the bus window I thought about my life, it was true what I’d said to Jack, I wanted to be good at eating pussy, I wanted to be the best at it, the one girls would remember…but I also wanted to be liked by them. I wanted women to see how much effort I´d put into making them happy, I wanted to be respected.

For most of my teenage life I’d thought of nothing else but playing with pussy, then I remembered my first porn mag. It had a tremendous story about a guy that couldn’t get through his day without going down on a woman. It had been very detailed and I remember being so engrossed in the story, from that day I took the task of licking very seriously. I could recall mother on a number of occasions asking “Kevin what do you think you are doing with that ice-lolly?”

I wanted to be the best even at the age of 15, I thought girls would adore me if they knew I worshipped pussy. The thing was I never got close enough to a girl to tell her that, I never had the basic social skills needed to attract a girl. My early teen years were as lonely as my life was now, it was made up of me trying hard and not even being noticed.

All my life I’d been sheltered by mother, no one wanted to play with me cus’ I wasn’t allowed out of the garden, or allowed to climb trees. Mother wouldn’t let me take part in school sports just in case I had an asthma attack and died.

You might think it’s normal for a parent to worry about their only child, but I was never diagnosed with asthma, mother just worried that one-day I might catch it off of another child. So basically I wasn’t well liked at school, the first 6 years of my school life I had to wear a braces on my front teeth, not the nice small ones they have now, nope I looked like a rabid dog in a muzzle.

Then when I was 11, I had them taken off, but the damage had been done. No girls would talk to me, no boys wanted to hang with me. I was a fully-fledged loner, the school geek. Because of the teasing at school I didn’t want to be there so I would pretend I was ill all the time, my schoolwork suffered, my pride suffered and mother became my best friend for a long while.

Hence my predicament with the fairer sex, I was simply unattractive to them and unable to show them what I was really capable of.

The only girlfriend I ever had was Dorothy and that was when I was 9.

She lived next door and I’d known her all my life, we used to play doctors and nurses in the back yard.

We had lots of fun in her Wendy house, she’d show me her “moomoo” and I’d show her my nob. Onetime when it was cold I complained that my willy was cold and felt like it was going to fall off, she suggested I put something over it to warm it up.

She used to make tiny outfits for her dolls and she had this little sequin jacket, so for a giggle I put that on my nob, after that my little Elvis would often dance to “Jail House Rock” for her.

Dorothy was wonderfully strange, she used to let me feel her little tits in return for gob stoppers, this deal alas only lasted until we were 11 and she did not really have any to feel.

Then one sad day her mother caught Dorothys dad with the milkman and they moved away. That ended my days of experimentation with girls. It left me alone with just my porn mags as an unhealthy diversion.

At last the bus reached the top of our road, I opened the gate and as I walked in the door mother scuttled over to me, “Kevin look after your father I have to go and collect Jemima from the bus station”.

I said “Jemima, you mean Uncle Irvine’s Jemima?” before I got an answer mother was out of the door.

I wondered why Jemima was coming here. Oh well I suppose I would find out shortly.

It had been nearly 6 years since I’d last seen her, not since her mother’s funeral. She was an odd girl, tall and cumbersome, I remember she always wore a see-through plastic knee length raincoat; it reminded me of an enormous condom.

Her mother died when she was 15 and after that she went doo-lally, or as mother would say “No Kevin she is not doo-lally, she is just different”.

She was different all right she was a on another fricking planet to most of us, always talking to herself, and she had this eye that would wander off in the opposite direction to the other one. She always wore a pair of black spectacles with an old greying sticky plaster over her left eye. Jemima was freaky from head to toe, I honestly thought she’d be locked up in a padded cell by now rocking from side to side while basket weaving.

Jemima was one of those people who’d sit and never speak to you, instead she’d fiddle with a long piece of ginger hair that hung lank at the side of her face. Every now and then she’d twitch as if something had landed on her shoulder then giggle. I didn’t fancy the prospect of having Jemima come to stay, so I decided to hide all the kitchen knives before mother returned with our unwelcome guest.

An hour later the door opened and in walked mother. “Kevin we’re back put the kettle on darling”. Mother came in carrying a huge brown suitcase followed by a tall and quite attractive young woman. I blinked and then blinked again, could this ornate creature be the old awkward Jemima? No it was impossible, but it was.

Jemima smiled at me and said softly “Hello Kevin, how have you been?”

I stared at her pretty face then replied “Yes erm Jemima, I’m very well and by the looks of things so are you”. I couldn’t believe the transformation, gone was her greasy straight ginger hair, instead she had long shiny slightly tussled locks, gone were her national health glasses with the plaster over one lens, instead she had the cutest pair of round spectacles nestling on the end of her nose.

But one thing had not changed, she still wore her oversized see-through raincoat, the giant condom.

Being she was much taller now it ended mid-thigh and my what lovely legs she had.

We sat having tea and I sat staring at her, I wasn’t sure if she was staring back at me, or whether she was actually trying to read the titles on the bookshelf. She had the most brilliant green eyes, but still one had a mind of its own, even with her faults and oddities I suddenly found her strangely beautiful. I attempted to talk to her, smiling to her at every given chance.

Not expecting her to answer I said in a friendly manner “So Jemima how comes you’re staying here?”

To my astonishment she replied “Dad and his new wife are having a dirty weekend, so I’m not wanted, I hope you don’t mind me being here”.

“No, no of course not, it will be nice to catch up on old times” I said trying to hold back my newly found delight. I didn’t want the old Jemima to stay but the new one, well that was another matter. Not only did I find her unusually appealing it seemed that little Elvis also had an interest in her.

We ate tea then mother said “Kevin darling will you please take Jemima to your room, she’s having your bed”. “My room” I coughed, “But mother, my bed?”

“Kevin you will be on the blow-up bed in the dining room, come along now it´s getting late” ordered mother.

“Well erm’ ok, follow me Jemima” I said shrugging.

As we went to go upstairs my mother shouted “And Jemima dear I do so apologise for the state of Kevins walls, had I known you were coming so soon I would have had him remove the fifthly material”.

I showed Jemima to my bedroom, it was the first time that any female except mother and aunt Vi’ had been in it for years, it felt weird.

As we walked in I suddenly felt embarrassed because of all my titty posters on the wall, I don´t think that I would have done, if mother had not mentioned it. Luckily Jemima did not seem offended, she smiled at me and said “So you like big tits, typical man” she added tutting.

“Yes of course I do, I love them” I replied defensively. “There’s nothing wrong in appreciating the female form”.

“Hmmm” she giggled, “And I bet you appreciate these every night before bed”.

I lowered my head in embarrassment; she didn’t have a very high opinion of me did she?

Then surprisingly she said “I’m pleased you like tits Kevin, I’d always wondered about you, a guy of your age, still at home with his mother”.

She thought I was a gay mothers boy!

“This is your bed, I will get you some new bed linen” I said snottily, “Do you want me to put your case up on the top bunk?”

“No it’s ok I think I can manage it from here”, she said climbing the ladder.

I sat on the bottom bunk looking at her legs as she climbed the ladder with her case, I remember thinking “God why can’t it be a longer ladder”. Her legs were long and I could see a pretty thigh length floral skirt under her plastic coat. As she got to the top I leaned and saw straight up her dress, I could see her bottom and a small pair of pink knickers.

Little Elvis poked at my leg, he liked what he saw.

That night Jemima wanted to go to bed early, she’d been travelling most of the day.

I was on my computer in the chat room when she came upstairs, “Are you decent Kevin?” I heard a small voice whisper.

I quickly hid what was on my screen, then replying quickly I said “Erm yep I am, you can come in, I was just working on my computer”.

Jemima came in and soon we started talking “What do you do on your computer then” she asked. “Oh you know the usual, college work” I replied.

Jemima grinned naughtily saying “I go in chat rooms on mine, don’t you ever do that Kevin?”

Thinking fast I said “Nope never, I go on line to download information on flowers, for my college course”.

Then she tilted her head to the side and gave me that look that can only say one thing, “I know you are lying Kevin”, the same look that mother had perfected over the years.

“I always tell my dad that I am doing college stuff too, works like a charm” she said laughing, then added “Anyway I came up to go to bed”.

Then she kissed me gently on the cheek and said “Night Kevin, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do”, then made her way up the ladder.

I switched my computer off and went downstairs to my made up bed.

I went to bed with Jemima on my mind, she had certainly changed. Half way through the night I awoke hot and sticky, Elvis had been having fun without me and made a mess all over my nice clean duvet.

I sat up quickly; suddenly I remembered what I had been dreaming about, it was her. I’d dreamt that Jemima had come down the ladder wearing nothing but her see-through plastic coat and that she’d slept walked right past me.

I shook my head to get the vision out of my mind, I did not mind the naked part but the thought of that god damned plastic raincoat really gave me the willies.

Morning came and I ran into Jemima in our narrow hallway, she was wearing a tiny pink cotton night-dress and she looked drop dead gorgeous.

I as usual was wearing a pair of my Star Wars pyjamas, which Jemima seemed to find funny for some reason. She smiled impishly at me and brushed past me to the bedroom. As she did I felt her clothed nipples on my bare skin, they were like little bullets, small and hard. That was enough to wake little Elvis up even further, so I had to go back to the bathroom until he had calmed down.

A while later to waste some time I decided to email Jack at the café, I sent to him telling him how much Jemima had changed and that I’d dreamt about her.

I embellished a little adding that in my dream she had stood by my bed begging me to fuck her.

I told him how of course in my dream I’d obliged and that we’d fucked like rabbits all night long.

After typing it I sat back thinking “Why the fuck did I have to dream about her, and specially wearing that coat of hers?”

Well we ate breakfast and afterwards I agreed to take Jemima to meet Jack.

As we sat on the bus I looked at her, at how her hair hung sexily around her face, at her pretty green eyes and her thin dark pink lips. She’d changed so much, from an ugly long stringy caterpillar into a delicate butterfly.

It didn’t matter to me anymore that she had a wonky eye, or wore a condom for a coat, she was simply quite beautiful.

When we got to the café Jack did his usual flirting routine, showing off the computers and flattering Jemima as he went along. Jemima knew an awful lot about computers and ended up showing Jack a thing or two. I watched her narrow fingers dart all over the computer keyboard, I watched as she swung her hair back over her slender shoulders, I watched her every movement. After a time she went to the bathroom leaving Jack and myself alone at the table, Jack leaned in and whispered “I bet she’s a virgin, go for it mate”.

I looked at him replying “Nah’ she won’t be interested, she likes you I think”.

“No way, anyway I don’t want her, she´s a ginger” Jack added “It’s you we’ve gotta’ sort out.

She’ll be a screamer I bet, you can tell, it’s always the quiet ones”.

Then Jack got up to serve an elderly woman at the till.

Jemima came back and said “I hope I didn’t miss anything, were you talking about me?”

“No of course we weren’t” I said quickly.

“Oh and why not” Jemima said grinning.

She sat poking her finger into the froth of her cappuccino, then lifting her head slowly she looked at me and quite on purpose, ran her tongue up her finger.

I felt little Elvis wriggle, my face started to burn.

Then came Jacks voice “Don’t do that Jem, fuck poor Kevin will cum in his pants if you do”.

Jemima giggled and shook her hair back sexily, while I sat scowling at Jack “Funny, haha” I said.

For the next 15 minutes they played on the computer, laughing and giggling, I felt like a right idiot sitting there in between Jacks flirting and Jemima’s obvious interest in him.

“Has Kevin told you about his motorbike yet Jem” Jack sniggered.

“No he hasn’t, wow will mummy let him have one?” she replied sarcastically.

I’d forgotten all about my bike, first thing Monday morning I planned to get it. I couldn’t wait, I’d show Jack, he wasn’t the only babe magnet around here.

It was getting late so I decided to visit the loo before leaving for home, I didn’t want to leave Jack and Jemima by themselves but I had to because I needed a crap. I sat wiping my arse and picturing them both laughing about me.

Later we got on the bus together, we didn’t speak and I did not want to.

But unfortunately I’d left my jacket in the café, so I had to ask Jemima to lend me the bus fare home. Every now and then Jemima would look at me and smile in an attempt to start a conversation, but I pretended not to notice and sat looking out of the bus window.

Finally we got home and mother already had tea ready, I sat prodding at my chips thinking how much I’d hated Jack for making a fool of me.

I looked up at Jemima and thought about how stupid she was, a virgin in a plastic condom coat. I sighed inwardly and stuffed a chicken nugget into my mouth, my lust for Jemima had died.

Mum then sat down and said “Jemima has kindly offered to sleep on the blow-up bed tonight Kevin, so you can get some proper rest for college, isn´t that nice of her?”

I smiled and tried to look as if I cared about her polite gesture, but I didn´t really.

At least I´d be in my own room surrounded by my collection of beautiful big titties!

At last I finished my tea and I made my excuses to leave the table, “I’m off to do my essay mother, I will see you in the morning”.

“Oh but Kevin you’ll miss the film it´s Lethal weapon, you know how much you enjoy those” mother said.

“No I don’t want to see it, I’m too busy and any way I’ve seen it” I replied grumpily.

As I was just going into my bedroom Jemima entered the hallway “Kevin I used your computer to email my father, your mum said I could, I hope you don’t mind”.

I didn’t answer and just carried on into my room.

I played around a bit on my computer for a few hours, I wasn´t in the mood for dirty stuff so I just went on some game sites. I felt so bored and felt myself nodding off to sleep so I figured it was time to get into bed.

I don’t know how long it was before I was awoken by someone whispering my name. I turned and to my surprise saw Jemima stood at the side of my bed. Not just any Jemima, but a naked “wearing her condom coat” Jemima.

I blinked and rubbed my eyes, fuck! I was dreaming about her again.

But as I rubbed my eyes the vision did not disappear in fact it began to smile and it spoke again “Kevin, Kevin it’s me Jemima, wake up”.

I sat up bolt upright in my bed banging my head on the top bunk, in a shocked voice I barked “Shit! I know it’s you Jemima what are you doing?”

She leaned closer and said “I want you Kevin, I want you to fuck me”.

I gulped and shook my head, it must have been a dream, I was dreaming that I was dreaming, yes that was it.

But then she reached over and put my table lamp on, she was real, I wasn’t dreaming. “Take me Kevin, I want you” she said in a whispering sexy voice.

I moved to the edge of my bed and looked at her, I could see her white freckled naked flesh through her plastic coat. Her small rounded nipples looked as if they were squashed up against a window and there between her slender sexy legs nestled a flash of red pussy.

I reached and pulled her towards me, slowly I ran my hands over the plastic of her coat, then pulled at it. Some of the press-studs burst open and there in front of me were two extremely plump but small white freckled breasts. I devoured one while I squeezed at the other, slowly I manoeuvred Jemima round and lowered her onto my bed. Next I ripped open the remaining poppers on her see-through coat and peeled it back like a candy wrapper, eagerly I ran a hand down onto her little red fluffy mound.

“Mmmmmm Kevin, Kevin” she breathed as I kissed her and rubbed her pussy, “Fuck me Kevin, do it, you want to, so do it” she said in between each small pleasing moan.

“Not yet, I want it to be special” I said, “I want to taste you first”.

I slid down and kissed her breasts then slowly licked and kissed her stomach, gently I slid my fingers into her pussy and played softly, rubbing and stroking her bud like clit. I tongued it lovingly and slid my tongue inside of her, she was hot and sweet. As she came it felt and tasted like warmed honey dripping onto my tongue.

She did not taste like the other women I had gone down on, Jemima was young, fresh and exquisite.

As I played between her legs Jemima pushed my head deeper and deeper into her, I could feel her thin fingers gripping my head and pulling at my hair. It was then that I knew I couldn’t wait any longer, it was my time, Elvis’s time.

I stood up with my enormous hard on jutting out and thought quick “Condoms, jacket, chair”.

Jemima smiled at me in readiness, I scuttled over in my under pants to the chair by the door to get my jacket, but it wasn’t there.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! my jackets at Jacks” I barked.

“I don’t have any condoms, we need them”.

“Don’t you have anymore?” she said, “I mean don’t you have any here in your room”.

“No I bloody don’t have any here, I keep them in my wallet” I snapped back.

“Fuck, fuck it I don’t fricking believe this” I growled.

Jemima got off the bed and put her arms round my waist, rubbing the front of my pants she whispered “Kevin it’s Ok, we don’t need them, we’re clean and it’s ok”.

For a second I felt relieved but then I came to my senses, “Yes we do need them Jemima, we don’t want any accidents”.

I looked at my watch, knowing it was too late to go to the pub or to the garage, that was it, we had no fucking condoms.

I turned “Jemima just go back to bed, I am sorry we can’t do this”.

“But Kevin, no please, we can, we could just fool around some more” she said hopefully.

“No, no we can’t because I know we’d not be able to help ourselves, go to bed Jemima, please, I am sorry”.

I couldn’t believe what I had just said, I was sending a beautiful young naked woman away.

Jemima looked at me spitefully and said “I knew you wouldn’t do it, Jack said you hadn’t fucked anyone before” then she left my room.

That was it the last fucking straw I thought “The one time I needed a fucking condom I didn’t have them with me, and I’d had the same fucking condoms for 3 fricking years”.

I needed one fucking condom, just one but “Oh No”, for god sake the girl was wearing a fucking condom, a massive fucking condom, but did I have any in my room NO!

I got back in my bed and grabbed Elvis by his neck.

That night I quietly wanked until my hand went numb then I fell asleep.

Morning came and I just wanted Jemima to be gone. I told mother that I wouldn’t be down for breakfast, as I didn’t feel well, instead I decided to take a long cold shower.

I stayed under the freezing water for ages until I had no feeling in my feet, as I got out I heard a knock at the door, then came a whisper “Kevin, Kevin open up it’s me Jemima”.

I opened the door and Jemima pushed past me locking it quickly.

“I’m sorry for what I said last night Kevin, it was cruel of me, please forgive me” she looked at me and smiled, “I just wanted you so bad and when you rejected me it hurt, I’m so sorry”.

I looked at her standing there, she thought I didn’t want her?

“But Jemima I didn’t reject you, it’s just I don’t want any accidents” I said holding her close.

Suddenly I felt proud instead of mad about the decision I’d made, I felt as though I’d grown up, I wasn’t a mummies boy any more, I was an adult, able to make my own choices.

Jemima kissed my cheek and whispered “Kevin, thank you”.

But before long she’d slid down onto her knees and was ripping my towel off giving me the most amazing blowjob ever.

She looked up at me with a wicked glint in her good eye and said “Last night when I felt the size of your cock, I just had to have it”.

I stood leaning back gripping the sink as this beautiful small-mouthed girl sucked my nob like there was no tomorrow. Within minutes Elvis had shot his load and Jemima was lapping it up like an insatiable, starving cat licking cream.

I held on to her head for dear life, I couldn’t believe how much Jemima had changed, Oh my god how she’d changed. How did such a sweet girl know how to give such wonderful fricking head I asked myself?

Before I could get my breath Jemima had left the bathroom and I heard mother shouting up the stairs, “Kevin I’m taking Jemima to the bus station, look after your father”.

Jemima was gone and I was left with some very strange feelings for her. I wanted to be Jemima´s first, I wanted her to be my first. With a heavy heart I sat on my bed, I picked up my duvet and smelt it, hoping that I would be able to smell Jemima on it.

I couldn’t bring myself to get dressed or do anything that day, even though I’d planned to get my motorbike sorted out, it didn’t seem so important. I think I was in love, but then again maybe I was just in lust. Two days later I received an email from Jemima, it read:

Dear Kevin,

I had a lovely time with you, shame we didn’t get to fuck, maybe next time I read the email you sent to Jack. I wanted to help you out. You are a great guy and some day you will find a girl who would love to go out with you, especially when you eat pussy as good as you do. Don’t give up and get some more fucking condoms you big dork.

Luv J.

My heart sank, she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as I thought, I suppose the amazing blowjob should have given it away.

I sighed and turned my computer off, I still never understood this whole sex thing. I wanted Jemima to come back, I wanted to talk to her.

I had so many questions I needed to ask her, I wanted to get to know her.

Most of all I wanted to know why she always wore that fucking condom coat.