I had resisted for a long time, but eventually I gave in to the inevitable. There I was with this woman I had recently met and within minutes she was touching my breasts.
She asked me if I had done this before. I said no. I would have remembered if I had.
The way she handled me was not what I’d expected. Was I looking for gentleness? If I was I was immediately disappointed. Instead of a gentle touch I was squeezed, pushed, pulled, kneaded and clamped. The last bit was out of my experience range and I cried out in pain – no pleasure at all was involved, I can tell you.
When she released me, I said that it hurt. She replied that she told me there might be a touch of pain.
When it was all over – none too soon in my opinion – I backed away from her as she continued to look at me and talk to me. I was silent. I just nodded at her and then I murmured something that couldn’t be described as words. I just wanted to leave.
As I put my clothes back on I knew that I wouldn’t be in a hurry to repeat that particular afternoon delight. I was as polite as I could be as I left, but I knew that she knew I hadn’t enjoyed the experience.
What was it I actually did?
Oh, didn’t I say?
I went for my first mammogram.
What were you thinking?!!!