Chapter 7: It’s All Relative Really

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?”