MY ADOLESCENT ESCAPADE(S)

My adolescent tribulations…

“She will be teaching chemistry in form one and two…” the principal thundered as I resumed my utopian state, taking in every feature on that woman with utmost finesse.

By Jove she was beautiful.
Her face was radiant enough to make the sun cower with envy. But honestly speaking, not much attention was paid to most features on her neck upwards though she had lovely luscious lips.
I wouldn’t mind tasting them.

My adolescent hormones were already in overdrive as I ogled at her firm double dees. I swear I saw her nipples make duck faces at me at some point.
Further south, she had a slim waist found on those Caribbean dancers… or are they belly dancers? I care less.

Anyway, the perfect hips that came immediately after that waist turned my knees into jelly. Her hips were too perfect to be natural. I remember trying to compare both sides and finding no difference whatsoever. Every time her manicured hand rubbed anxiously on them, I felt my blood rush south. None of it was headed to my toes. Trust me.

My eyes yearned to scan her derriere. Her hips were such a teaser anyway. It was about time my teen eyes feasted on her sitting allowance. I already had a rough idea of the visual treat I was about to receive.

The principal must have noted my unhidden interest in her so he gave her that “feel at home” pat on her back sending a very clear warning. Screw that. Backing off on this one was not an option.
I gulped with desire as he smiled shyly in response to the pat.
I’d have given anything just to smell her hair, leave alone touch her.

As she spoke, my heartbeat synced with her lip movement. I closed my eyes and let her mellow voice carry me away into a world of fantasy.

Then I heard a thunderous applause from the students. Okay. My fellow students. I figured out I was still in uniform queued up at the assembly ground among 900+ future elites (and rejects too).
She had just winded up her short introductory speech but she’d received an ovation <<I don’t like this word<< that the principal will never receive. Not even when he retires.

“These guys ain’t loyal”, I thought to myself. “Kwani hawajui huyu dame nishamnyakua?” Before I could dish out a killer glance at the clique that had applauded loudest, my dream lady, whose name I had not heard, was already walking away. I decided to call her Aphrodite (the Greek goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, and procreation)

sigh

THAT ASS….

… TO BE CONTINUED…