Saturday, May 14


Her name was Caroline. For obvious reasons I wont say her surname, though I still remember it. But it was somewhat similar to what we made of it. We called her Caroline Boobs. It was the time when we boys at school discovered wanking: some did it already, and who did not yet, pretended that he did and tried, with the help of information gathered in schoolyard talks to catch up on the new status relevant ability. The girls were changing too. Their clothing became more womanly. Some used a bit make-up now. And in a few cases one could notice their little titties sprout. Still almost all were practically flat. Except Caroline. At eleven she had already developed a beautiful pair of round boobs, which made her stand out - literally - among all her classmates. Half a year later, her boobs were so big that they caught everybody's attention, in any situation. It did not matter if there were other girls of her age for comparison, or if she were among older ones, even adults. Her boobs had become her distinctive feature.

She didn't like it. You could see that. It embarrassed her. She tried to hide them in loose cardigans and sloppy pullovers, but there was no effective way to hide them. Caroline was not plain, but also not especially pretty. If she had been some kind of beauty queen or sex bomb, it might have made it easier for her. But she was just a normal twelve year old girl with big, big boobs.
I have no first hand knowledge of how her female classmates reacted to it, but we boys made cruel jokes about "them". Even more so as I certainly wasn't the only who, despite of my scorning, was profoundly fascinated by them and dedicated his wankings to them and her. I may have been the only though who did it in a different way. I dreamt of being her. Having her boobs, including, especially including, the attention, the embarrassment and the humiliation that came with it.

I imagined being her and going with her mother to the local lingerie shop to by bras. There was no mall in our small town. Just one lingerie shop who's owner everybody knew as the mother of a buddy of ours. So it was with some realistic touch when I imagined Mrs. Delmond and Caroline's mother discuss the size of the bra necessary, the model, the type of support it had to supply and what would be the right one for every occasion. I was sure Caroline felt profoundly ashamed while hearing these conversations, of being ordered to try this one on and that one, being admonished not to slouch but to stand erect for her back's sake, even if it made "them" stick out even more so, and to show how it looked and worked or not... I knew I would be ashamed! And that turned me on beyond belief!

I imagined her in the girls' locker room, while changing, taking shower, being naked among the other girls. He difference on display, defenseless. I imagined the other girls asking her questions, giggle, comment...
And once I watched her entire 90 minutes, when we had outdoor sports together. Not exactly together. We had sports seperately, boys and girls, each with our respective teacher, male one female the other, but at the same time. In the summer it was at the facilities of the local football club, a field, a track, some barracks being the changing rooms and showers. That day my teacher must have been very unhappy with me, because I did not pay attention at all. I could not keep my eyes off her. She ran! That was something she usually avoided. Here she couldn't. So despite her sensible sports-bra, her boobs just swayed and jiggled that it was a delight! Was I the only one who got a hard-on? I doubt it, but I didn't pay attention to anyone else. I did excuse myself: I had to go to the loo. I remember how I was dividing my time in there with doing desperate pull-ups at the window sill to catch a glance at her, and my fervent wanking down on the tiled floor. Oh Caroline!

She left our school and town two years later. I never made a serious pass at her. My stupid need to maintain my prestige among my peers prevented that. I am so sorry for that! I would have loved to be the first to tell her and to make her feel that her boobs were fantastic and nothing to be ashamed of, much on the contrary!

But I am sure in the meantime she found someone who did.

1 comment:

  1. When I was in 6th grade I had a girl neighbor named Michelle who was also in 6th grade. She was a tom-boy with large grapefruit sized boobs that I just drooled over. I was going through puberty and fantasizing about having boobs just like hers. We used to wrestle and I would get to feel them . It madfe me so horny. Great times.