Archive | April, 2013

Joy, A Willing Victim…The Beginning – part 2

3 Apr

I couldn’t wait to tell Anne that I was now a member of my council estate church youth club and that I had also been to my first tin mish dance. At this time in most of our lives, well those of us that were in our teens in the 1960’s, in my part of the world, there was a Tin Mish dance somewhere nearby almost every day of the week. Except Sundays of course, and also the occasional Saturday if the Mish hall was being used for a wedding reception or private party.

Anne was almost two years older than me but was only the year above me at school. My friendship with Anne started when I joined the Brownies. She was to be my patrol leader and we soon became good friends. It turned out that our dads worked at the same engineering company and had also known each other at school.

Anne lived on a council estate in one of the nearby villages about four miles out of town. My family home was in town on a small council estate about a ten minute walk from the town centre

So, right from the start if it made our Brownie and subsequent Girl Guide activities more convenient to attend our parents were quite happy about our staying the night and sometimes the whole weekend at each other’s house.

Later, as we went to the same school during term time we were able to stay over on the occasional weekday too.

This whole arrangement was to come in very handy when we started going to the various tin mish dances and when we started going with boys!!!

In a way it was quite fortunate that my friendship with Anne had developed the way it did. For, after I told her about my Christmas holiday adventures she invited me to stay over to go to a dance at her village mish. After my recent experience with that lad at my tin mish I quite welcomed the chance to go somewhere else where I didn’t think the boys were laughing at me.

As we frequented more of these dances and youth clubs I began to notice that she was quite popular with the boys. These boys all wanted to know about me too. At first I thought this popularity was because she never refused a request to dance. So with her encouragement I followed her example. What a tremendous boost to my confidence that was. Soon I was to be almost as popular as her.

We really enjoyed these dances and they became for many years the focal point of our social lives. They were to be, in our early teenage years, the premier meeting place for our friendship groups. It was where we got to know and dance and flirt with lots of different boys from the surrounding towns and villages.

So following Anne’s example my self-confidence improved and it wasn’t long before, like Anne I was outside at the half time break… kissing.

Yes. You’ve guessed. It also wasn’t long before, as my breasts were a bit more developed and less tender to the touch, I thought ‘why not’ and didn’t push away the hand that was feeling for my tits. I must admit I was a bit apprehensive but this time the lad was delighted and wanted to walk me home at the end of the dance. For the chance of another feel no doubt.

What a confidence boost!

After that any lad I was dancing with that asked me outside I would do so and if they didn’t try I would encourage them to feel my small but well forming tits. Even though, by Anne’s standard, they were small there were no more complaints about their size.

At first they just felt them over whatever I was wearing. I suppose it was inevitable that a lad would push his hand up under my top; I enjoyed that even more so started wearing lose tops. Just like Anne!

That was the realization that Anne was letting the boys feel her tits too.

We were both doing it; what a lark knowing that!

Then when we realized that we had at different times been with the same boys that just added to the excitement. So for the fun of it we deliberately did that more often to compare notes as to how good they were!!!

How deliciously naughty we felt.

We were having a wonderful time. Neither of us gave a thought that the lads would be talking about us to their mates and that they in turn would want to try and have a feel. We just enjoyed the popularity. Not that we did it at every dance we went to…just most!

We also started comparing the different ways the lads went about trying to get a feel; a subject that caused us much merriment

What we found was that the first timers were as obvious as the more experienced tit feeler.

The first timers were hesitant and only tried to feel over our tops no matter how easy we made it for them to get a hand under our tops. Whereas the more experienced would first feel for our bra strap and put their hand up the back to loosen the clips. Some were good at this though most weren’t.

We both bought bras with simple catches to make this easier. The expectation of being with a lad that knew how to do that was quite exquisite.

The perils were few, apart from being caught by one of the dance organizers, that is. The main perils were the over enthusiastic squeezers, the nippers and the pullers. But there was nothing worse than the nipple nipping puller; that could be so painful!

Because we were talking to each other and making comparisons we were able to warn each other about which lad not to let have a feel and slowly became a bit more selective.

Anne seemed to be more popular than me, not that I was jealous or owt, she just seemed to score first that’s all. I thought it was because she had bigger tits than me but after I met Tom he told me it was because she had started wanking off some of the lads. Not that I ever saw her doing that.

Doing that never occurred to me; even though the occasional lad would try to get me to put my hand on his nob. The very thought of me actually touching it appalled me…weird eh! To me, it was bad enough feeling it pressed against me when dancing or kissing. Sometimes when kissing I could feel it moving or throbbing. It was a long time before I found out why it did that.

There was never a shortage of lads wanting to escort us home at the end of the dances but we made it a rule, to be fair, that that would only be the first lad to ask. So sometimes it wouldn’t be the lad we were with at half time. It would be a different lad that got a quick feel on the way home. And, so it seems, for Anne a second nob to wank!

But for me Two tit feelers in one night; not that that happened very often but when it did…

It was better to be taken home by a couple of lads if we were going back to Anne’s place. Her parents were a bit more relaxed about things but we had to be in by midnight. If not her dad would open the door to call us in which would be embarrassing if he caught one of us with some lads hand up our jumpers!

If Anne was stopping over with me, my parents insisted that we were home shortly after 11 O’clock – the arrival time of the last bus from town. Sometimes, much to my embarrassment, my dad would be waiting at the bus stop “to protect us from the drunks”. Well that’s what he said. Not that that put many lads off. They would get a kiss and a feel on the bus and if dad was there we would get off and they would stay on for the return trip into town.

What the other passengers, the bus conductor or the driver thought or saw we were so wrapped up in what we were doing we were oblivious of anybody around us; we just didn’t care!

We were in our own little bubble…What we didn’t realize was that there were not that many girls letting lads feel their tits so in a way we were quite unique. We never gave a thought to the fact that the lads would talk about us the way they did. We thought that we were so popular because we were pretty and good to dance with!!!

How naive we were. It was good fun though!

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