Thursday, November 12, 2009

Week 1 - Pause and Rewind

Lying in a bed that is only five foot long, when you are over six foot tall and a twenty-nine year old man, sleeping is challenging, but when you add the fact that in less than ten hours time you will be getting married it becomes an impossibility.

Here I am in the bed that I used to sleep in when I was ten in the bedroom where my Action Men used to stimulate sex with the girl nextdoor’s Cindy dolls - which was difficult with their lack of genitals. So much has happened since those days and that burning summer of ’76. The girl next door now lives in New Zealand with a very muscular bloke named Clive and the Action Men are currently packed in a cardboard box in a Storage Unit near Walsall. The rubbery flexible fingers of the Action Men have not survived so well during the past two decades. Mind you I can talk, because my fringe has disappeared on to the top of my head and can now only be seen from above. As I lie in this small bed I try to think if any of my school mates are now as follicley challenged as me now they are approaching their 30’s.

According to my old digital alarm clock, which my Dad had specially got out of a box in the loft for me, it was now 02:14 so if I assume it takes 14 minutes to get to the marriage vows in the service this means that in just nine hours time my marital state will change from single to married. I think I am ready for this life change, but so many thoughts are going around my balding head including highlights of all my previous relationships. ‘All of’ means four and some people might think that calling the two weeks with Beverley Evans a relationship was pushing it. We did nearly share a kiss outside the ABC cinema in Walsall. Just wished she had mentioned her feelings for Karen Shelton earlier!

Susan Richardson was the first girl I ever experienced with an above average sized chest. I was sixteen and on my way to take my Chemistry O’Level when I first spoke to Susan. Why it took me so long I don’t know because we had shared a bus journey most mornings for over three months. The last four mornings she had even come and sat by me. That day I had my head in the Lett’s Chemistry revision Aids book revisiting chemical equations. Suddenly I felt Susan’s large chest, squashed into a red polo-neck sweater, push against my arm. With her gingery hair, perhaps red was maybe not the most discrete colour to wear, but she had chosen to sit by me. Looking around I saw a number of seats she could have chosen including a double to herself two rows in front. That was the time for conversation and with the summer holidays nearly on us I had nothing to lose. Conversion went well, Susan tested me on my Chemistry, she asked me out on a date and within three weeks I had my hands inside that very same red polo-necked sweater. As I was lying there on my side the morning of my wedding I spent time remembering how it felt to first touch the bosom of Susan Richardson. What would she be doing now; perhaps that large chest is now being shared by two twin baby boys? I have always had difficulty controlling my mind at night, but tonight it was totally out of control. What kind of changes will happen to my thoughts once I say “I do” or was it “I will”?

The great relationship with Susan fizzled out before I received my Chemistry O’level certificate, but it encouraged me to look for another relationship and within weeks I was dating Amanda. Now what was Amanda’s surname? I am sure it started with a ‘P’. Parker, Parson, Peacock… I can’t think of it. Was it Harrison? Amanda was tall, slim with very long straight brown hair. She was probably the most attractive girl I have ever been out with until Becky, who I was going to marry in just over eight hours time. I must try and get some sleep to look my best for the big day. Don’t really want to have big bags under my eyes on the wedding photographs. Wedding photographs, that is a really scary thought. I have yet to see a photograph of me when I don’t look like a weirdo with red eyes. The photographs will probably have Becky looking like a sensational bride with her perfect wavy blonde hair and curvy figure, standing next to this bloke who looks like an extra from the Adam’s Family.

Sutton Coldfield College of Technology and the A’level Sociology class in room 606 was the place where I, Jonathan Sadler, met Amanda. The class was full of strange looking hippy types apart from me and Amanda and from the very first lesson I wanted to get to know Amanda better. Being tall and skinny I sometimes looked a bit awkward and my clothes didn’t always look quite right. Even so I was determined to seduce the lovely Amanda. Within two weeks we were working on a project together on the behaviour of old people in public. I managed to make this last every lunch time for six days. We studied old people in Supermarkets, in restaurants and just in the street. Every day we talked more intimately and got closer. At the end I invited Amanda back to my house to write the project up.

It was in this very room just a few feet from where I was born that I first tried to kiss Amanda. I say ‘tried’ because she failed to notice the first time and I ended up kissing her hair. Undeterred though I went in again and soon I had moved her lips round to meet mine. Success, I had seduced the very attractive Amanda. We then started a relationship that lasted over a year. Although, sometimes Amanda seemed more concerned with checking her appearance in the nearest mirror than being with me, I was still honoured to have Amanda as my girlfriend. Looking back I never really thought it would last. Amanda was out of my league and always destined for a more hunky boyfriend. She was clever, but we often were on different wavelengths and did not really like each others friends, athough, Amanda often said she thought my friend Pete was quite hunky. Nobody has ever called me hunky. It was a Thursday evening in July just two weeks before my 18th birthday that I decided to finish things with Amanda. She had been the only girl I had slept with at that point, but still I didn’t feel close enough to her. I always felt that there was still another wall that I had to get through before I could find the true Amanda. I remember asking her what she wanted from our relationship and she said that she wanted somebody else. She then declared she had been seeing another bloke for the last month so we kissed passionately then unexpectedly made love for a final time on floor of my bedroom. Maybe it wasn’t ‘making love’ but it was the best sex we had. After we said goodbye that night we never saw each other again. I don’t even know if she also passed her Sociology A’Level.

Becky is even more attractive than Amanda and we are so on the same wavelength. Often I know what she is going to say and what she is thinking. We agree on so many subjects from politics to religion and our favourite colours for bathrooms. Becky also has a more shapely chest than Amanda although not as out of proportion to her body as the boobs of Susan were. My favourite part of Becky though is definitely her firm and rounded bottom that I love to touch at every opportunity. Perhaps I will have to resist that temptation later today when we are standing at the altar. I can’t wait to see the dress she will be wearing. All I know is that it is white and Becky says reveals her shoulders. She says that I will find it very sexy and that I will have to control myself and avoid any unexpected bulges in my trousers. Sounds a bit pervey but I am looking forward to seeing the underwear under the dress tomorrow night, I mean tonight now! A number of friends at my Stag Night told me not to expect any sex on my wedding night because it never happened for them because they were too drunk or tired after the big day. The image I have in my mind now of Becky in her wedding undies is very arousing.

I feel so lucky that Becky Holloway came into my life and even luckier that she is going to marry me. Perhaps the seduction of Amanda gave me the confidence to pursue a lady as gorgeous as Becky. The clock clicks over all the numbers to say 03:00. How I wished I was back in my little flat in Lichfield which I had shared with Becky for the last four months, but my parents wanted me here in the family home in Sutton Coldfield away from Becky for the night. Becky was at the flat with her older sister and chief bridesmaid Jenny. We were moving to a new house in Alrewas in two weeks time and our first joint mortgage. It had been a very stressful few months with buying houses and planning weddings. I can’t remember the last time the two of us just had a normal conversation which didn’t involve ‘The House’ or ‘The Wedding’. It was fun though, going to all though Show Houses when we were looking for a new home and I will never forget what we got up to in the bedroom of that Bryant Show House with its black furnishings. Everything just feels so right with Becky.
Hopefully Becky will be my final relationship and hopefully it will be a very long one. It would be ideal if we both had mega heart attacks whilst celebrating our seventy-fifth wedding anniversary. I am not quite sure if there is a name for the seventy-fifth one or even the seventieth. I would be one hundred and four when this event happens though and Becky a younger one hundred and three. We might have stopped our energetic love-making by then though. Perhaps we can buy a book on enjoying sex when you’re eighty-plus. Do old people start to get turned on by wrinkles and smell of wee when they get past eighty?

If Becky is my final relationship it means that Heather Shaw was my penultimate one. Heather was my obligatory University relationship and possibly the other girl I could have married. She was short with a short blonde hair and a medium build. It wasn’t an instant attraction and certainly not a relationship either of us planned. Something happened at a Friday night party in the second year of our Business Studies degree course at Liverpool University that still makes me smile when I think about it. I went to the party because Pete was staying with me for the weekend and he wanted to meet some real ‘student’ girls. Pete wasn’t thick, but there was never a chance of him going any further than A’Levels. He had started work as a builder just after I started university, but we had stayed close. Still we went to the Villa games together when I was back home and that weekend the mighty Aston Villa were playing at Everton. The party was a 70’s theme night, but Pete wasn’t going to dress up so we just went as ourselves and really stood out. Interestingly with Pete next to me I seemed to be attracting attention from girls in my classes that normally didn’t want to come near me including the legendary April who had caught my eye at the very first lecture. Now with this muscular builder she was behaving like my best mate. Even if she called me ‘Johnny’. Pete was impressed that a beautiful lady seemed so friendly with me, but it became obvious that she only had eyes for Pete and even Pete realised this when she asked if she could feel the muscle on his arm. Pete though is a very good friend and when he got the chance followed me to the gents to ask if anything was going on between me and April. I thought it was only girls that went to the loo in pairs and maybe this gave off the wrong signals because suddenly I was aware of a lad in a purple shirt with a big afro wig smiling at me. Something was not right about this, but I gave him a wave in case it was someone in one of my lectures that I couldn’t recognise. I told Pete the news he wanted to hear that April and I were not ‘really’ an item and that I wouldn’t mind if he made a move. Out came Pete’s black comb which he always kept in his right-hand jean pocket and he flicked it through his spikey blonde hair. He was then off back to where April was still holding his drink. Next time I saw Pete that night he gave me a thumbs up as he was examining April’s tonsils with his tongue.

What happened next to me was pretty strange and slightly worrying. The bloke in the purple shirt came over and started talking to me. He seemed pleasant enough but was standing worryingly close. I suppose with the loud music he had to stand close so we could hear each other. He said his name was Adrian and that he saw me and my friend go into the gents together. It was a strange conversation and I began to feel uncomfortable. With horror I suddenly realised I was being chatted up by a bloke! It was at this point that a short blonde girl from my Business Studies class came to my rescue. Heather just walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the lips and said, ‘Hey babe, have you been waiting long?’. Within seconds the distinctly unbutch Adrian made his excuses and left. I was stunned and quite pleased by the actions of this small lady. She explained that she could see I was having problems and knew that I wasn’t that kind of lad. For the first time we then chatted and chatted.

Next week : The unforgetable wedding day. Sign up now for weekly updates.

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