Written by jiffy

Fact
4 Aug 2007


Your recent correspondence about ‘ My first Wank’ reminded me of a rather frustrating episode in Belfast in the late 70’s.

I was in my mid 20’s and staying in a well- known hotel and had become friendly with the barman. It helps. In those troubled days any local knowledge was useful.

During a night off we were drinking - as only Belfast knows how- and got to know two young nurses from the nearby Mater Hospital.

They were no beauties but neither were we. By the end of the night I suggested they come back to my hotel for a last drink. As soon as they agreed both Bob and myself knew were onto something.

The drink took us all to my room and without words being spoken Bob paired himself with one girl, pulled back the top sheet and got into bed fully clothed minus his shoes. The girl did the same.

Taking the hint I did the same and, under a different layer of sheets, my girl snuggled up to me.

This is when it all became bizarre. She was a lovely little kisser. Energetic and full of tongue. I responded and soon I was feeling her firm little tits. I went to put a hand up her jumper but in an instant she pulled it away. Oh well.

We continued. I felt her lovely rounded bum. She squirmed and wriggled and seemed excited. I slid my hand up her skirt to almost the top of her tights. Her thighs were slim and firm and the feel of the nylon made my cock painfully stiff.

Oh bliss. I reached her crotch and rubbed and gently moulded my fingers around her pubic mound. Her breathing became heavy. She was responding beautifully. The crotch became damp; I could feel her warm, silky moisture on my fingers. I wanted to take my hand away and smell it.

I reached up further to try and pull down the top of her tights. Instantly my hand was yanked away.

This made me puzzled, frustrated and annoyed - especially since Bob and his girl were grunting and gasping and it was obvious he was making good progress.

I took her hand and placed it firmly on my crotch so she could feel my hard on. She pulled away.

I was confused. She obviously wanted heavy petting ( full sex was not in the equation) and was responding but there was a barrier. I put it down to the fact that both were Catholics and there were ‘limits’ for young girls to go on a first snog.

I tried a different tactic. I took my hand from her fanny mound and placed it on the outside of her skirt feeling firmly her buttocks- squeezing, massaging, tracing the outline of her pantyline through her skirt fabric. She positively thrust herself to me trying to rub her crotch against my thigh.

But no – I couldn’t penetrate the barrier. Her defences held firm. Eventually I gave up and, with great frustration listened to Bob obviously getting some satisfaction from his girl.

Next morning the girls got up – fully clothed - at about 7am. I got up to let them out of the room. Bob was fast asleep.

As they left my girl said pointedly:’ You were a good boy – weren’t you.’ It was almost a sarcastic remark. I was confused – again.

Hours later, waiting for ‘The Crown’ to open Bob explained. It would seem at that time in Belfast when a first snog began there was some sort of ritual.

If the girls was showing obvious signs of enthusiasm, and you had a raging hard on the ritual was that YOU unzipped your flies, You took out your cock and you placed her hand on it. She would then willingly wank you and allow you access to her tits and hairy fanny.

It would seem it was slutty, almost taboo for a girl to fiddle with a man’s zip and rummage around in his trousers to pull out his cock. I was the one who had to take the lead. So it was my fault that I was ‘ a good boy’. She was obviously up for it but I had to show her the way.

I put this down to her religion and rather askew morality but it was in the 70’s ( or was I incredibly naïve?)

However I have to admit that in later years I have had the most outrageous sex with catholic girls. They love sinning. It is far more exciting than liberal sexual thought.

There was a time when I was having sex with a married girl in her early thirties. She was a church going catholic but as I said, sinning- doing what isn’t approved of – was all the more exciting.

It was sex for the second time and we were taking it much slower. I was on top, taking my weight on my left elbow and as I thrust. was squeezing her big soft tits.

I was talking to her, tying to think of all the naughty, slutty things to excite her. Without fully realising its effects I said to her:’ Would you like to fuck your priest. Would you like to suck his cock in the confessional. What would you say if he was in the room now watching your adultery. Would you let him finger your arse.’

Without warning- I think I was even on the out stroke -she came, shaking, shuddering and gasping.

The tricks the mind can play.

ends


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