Okay, this is a lighter entry from my book, much lighter. All guys remember the first pair of boobs they ever saw. I will leave it at that. Enjoy!
I think it’s a man thing but I often forget my keys when I leave the house. It’s gotten a lot better over the years since I have learned to try and put them in the same place when I go to bed but when I was younger, it occurred frequently. I hadn’t yet learned the trick of giving them a specific place to rest at night. On many occasions when I was in grade school I would end up getting stuck outside of my house waiting for somebody to come home and let me in.
This story takes place with me in the 7th grade. At this time in my life boobs were kind of like Santa Claus to me. I had heard of them, there was evidence that they existed but I had yet to see them in real life. In the 80’s young boys saw boobs one of 3 ways, either on cable tv, through the Africa edition of National Geographic or if you were lucky enough to be a younger brother, through your eldest siblings stash of porno magazines. My friend Allen had cable tv so he scouted out all of the movies that had nudity in them, my dad liked National geographic and my oldest brother Dave had nudie mags so I was covered on all 3 bases, but the elusive real life boobs had still evaded me.
One day I had again forgotten my keys. I went to the doorstep and knocked on the door, hoping somebody was home. Well, unfortunately nobody was home so I was out of luck. Rather than just sit on the front porch I decided I would kill some time in the backyard. Luckily it doesn’t take much to keep my occupied so I could handle just hanging out in the backyard for awhile. I went around and hopped the fence that led to the backyard. I took the 25 foot walk and went towards the back, to be honest I have no idea what I was going to do. I turn the corner and I look into the small bedroom and there it is. Lo, and behold my brother Dave has a girl over and she is naked. She is standing there in her panties getting dressed and I see my first pair of boobs. Unlike Santa Claus I have evidence that they do exist. I don’t know if my memory is glorifying this pair but I remember them as being pretty majestic. I can imagine a chorus of angels singing as I visualize them. They were huge and I remember the nipples themselves being as big as basketballs and those boobs drooped like a basset hound. It was amazing. My brother made eye contact with me and I skeedaddled to the front of the house so he could let me in.
I go to the front of the house and knock on the door again, knowing I will be let in. My brother lets me in. A few minutes later both he and Dorothy walk out of the house and Dave says “Hey, my brother saw your tits.” She didn’t say a word. Her brother and I would become friends. We went to the same school and he lived about 3 minutes away from the junior high we attended. One day I went over to his house and she got pissed and smashed his face into a bowl of strawberry ice cream. I never went back to that place. I can imagine her brother Liam didn’t like his sister too much. But as for me, well, you can say I saw a different side of her.
Recovery and aspergers 