It must have been hard to be the only woman with any sex appeal at a Catholic boys’ school. My sleeping, dreaming self became vaguely aware of a spreading warmth in my pants as if I had wet myself. We have the same Mum, but her father ran off when Tabatha was still a baby. It was significant at the time and it became even more significant as time went on. My mum was going to kill me. She was blessed with two of the biggest, roundest, most beautiful breasts I had ever seen. She must like it. No doubt she was irritated by the older boys wolf whistling behind her back. She came up to me and kissed me and asked me what I wanted for breakfast. It felt so good and my cock strained against something. I didn’t remember them in the morning. Then I remembered the dream. Peeing through the eye of a penis glued shut by semen is very painful. Before the conversation with my mum, I was vaguely aware that these dreams were enjoyable, but none were particularly memorable. In short, I knew that Britney was not wearing a bra and the details of her right breast were deliciously obvious to the male gaze. “Yeah, stop it, Russell!” Tabatha called after him.
