Word of the day. Tops.

I have slightly cheated today as I have been a little busy and haven’t had time to write anything new so have brought back an older post which amused me and I thought worth a second airing.

It was originally written for a post on my first teenage kiss but has the inclusion of the word “tops” which makes it eligible for the word of the day.

My first thought on trying to remember my first teenage kiss was, I can’t remember but gradually a recollection from the dim and distant past came back to me.

Back in the 60’s it was not common practice to have any form of sexual contact with the opposite sex in your parents house, it was however quite common for young people to go to the pictures, (the movies for any American readers) for such experiences.

One would head for the back row and when the lights went down, one could commence canoodling whilst most of the people were watching the film, obviously the back row would contain a number of other couples who were there for the same reason.

I seem to remember there was a sort of check list which had been passed down from the more experienced boys starting with kissing, then perhaps kissing with tongues and so on.

One would move on down the list with an arm over the shoulder which would then fall onto the girls breast and if it were not removed one progressed to the next step, that of fondling the breast from the outside of her blouse.

Slowly, slowly catchy monkey, the next step that of fondling the breast inside her blouse which of course after much fumbling and hopefully some assistance from the girl eventually meant the brassiere was released and access to the naked breasts was achieved. At this point I think there were many teenagers who must have started to believe that there actually was a God!

Fumbling slowly onward at this point I personally attempted the impossible and slowly slid my hand up the girls skirt where to my utter surprise was met by a pair of stockings which was unusual as by now virtually all girls had gone over to wearing the more modern tights.

Image result for stocking tops

I feel my story is coming across as a little impersonal as I keep referring to “the girl,” but the girl had a name which I cannot remember but I’m fairly certain was Jane, so will continue and refer to her as Jane.

As was the way in those days girls and boys were more tightly controlled than is the case today and I found out later that Jane wore the more old fashioned stockings as her mother thought it was more hygienic for her to get some air around her front bottom.

There was an old saying concerning girls and stocking tops which were referred to as giggle tops, the reason being if you got past the stocking tops you were laughing, suffice to say my courage ran out at the stocking tops.

I saw Jane on two or three other dates but our relationship was destined never to last, as I said her mother was very protective and to arrange a date required virtually filling in a number of forms in triplicate for her mother to give permission for the liaison.

It’s a shame as she was a very nice girl and we never progressed as far as having sex, for in those days that sort of thing had to wait until one had a motorcar and one could wait until it was dark and park up in the woods!

 

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About The Diary of a Country Bumpkin

I am a retired actor, although to be honest I only retired because I wasn't getting any work and the option of becoming an unemployed actor/waiter at my age was ludicrous, especially as my waiting skills are non-existent. Having said I’m retired, I don’t think there really is such a thing as a retired actor for I am still available for work, I just don’t have an agent or any connections with regards to obtaining any worthwhile work. I have over the years done student films when there is nothing else available, always low paid (if at all) the only incentive was always the promised copy of the finished film for your show reel which nine times out of ten always failed to materialise. I spent many years looking after my aged mother who had dementia, hence the lack of acting work but shortly after her death I was lucky enough to run into an ex-girlfriend of many years ago and our romance blossomed once again, resulting in us getting married in 2013. My move to the countryside inspired me to write The Diary of a Country Bumpkin which tells of my continuing dilemmas in dealing with the rigors of the countryside from the unexpectedly large number of pollens, fungal moulds and hay products waiting to attack the unsuspecting townie. I enjoy writing, see my play Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori on The Wireless Theatre Company, The Plays Wot I Wrote and The Battle of Barking Creek both available on Amazon.co.uk and am very fond of classic cars so my ideal occupation would be acting in a film I had written set in the 1930s/40s, we live in hopes. I am delighted to say that since venturing to the countryside where space is not quite the premium it is in town, I have due to the availability of two double garages acquired more classic cars to form a small collection the pride of which are a 1947 Bentley Mk VI and a 2000 Bentley Arnage. My various blogs and websites are continually evolving and I’m sure that by following the appropriate links you will find something which will edify or amuse.
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8 Responses to Word of the day. Tops.

  1. Ah, the innocent joys of youth, although we always hoped they wouldn’t be too innocent!

  2. Somewhat more simpler times than the current youth of today who seem to be texting photos of their genitalia to each other at age 12!!

  3. I wonder what became of Jane, and her old fashioned stockings? Her mother sounds formidable, to say the least!

    • It’s so long ago now, I have a feeling Jane was a vicars daughter, it might explain her mothers tight rein but I’m wondering why they didn’t live in a rectory, although I have no recollection of a house near the church. Perhaps through the mists of time I’m just mixing two male fantasies of the vicars daughter and stocking tops!

  4. Couldn’t get on with stockings at all as I felt they were always falling down round my knees.
    Guys always said tights were passion killers.

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