Every Year

Not just a look of politeness or interest, more than that. It was some sort of sexual interest. He was looking at my 'breasts' rise and fall as I breathed heavily and nervously, I knew he was seeing my black bra and was dreaming about what he thought was in there. I put my purchases on the counter and took my purse out. I looked past him at the display behind his head.

I smiled at him, a long wide alluring smile, I could imagine the shape of my shiny red lips.

"And a small bottle of Gordon's please."

I had often fantasised about being in a bar, showing off and with a drink in my hand. I had never ever tasted it and I rather fancied the thought of a gin and tonic.

He smiled at me, in fact no, he leered at me. OK I was a schoolgirl but an older one, a sixth former maybe, classic 'porn' - matter, exactly the age many men like to look at in the magazines.

"How old are you, dear?" he asked.

The leer appeared again.

"Eighteen" I said quietly but, I hoped, confidently.

I knew I looked older than that really, my make-up skills were sufficiently advanced by then. But I am glad he didn't ask for ID, OK I was eighteen but all my cards had the wrong sex on them.

"OK" he said and handed over the bottle.

I put a note on the counter and, before I could move, his hand went over mine. I was scared, terrified, excited, thrilled, all of these. A man was touching me, a hint of a sexual thrill went through me. He really did think I was a girl! I left my hand there for just a little too long, he increased the pressure of his hand on mine.

I escaped. Just at that moment another customer came in, the owner quickly finished serving me and turned his attention to the other customer who was just after cigarettes.

When I got outside the door I breathed deeply again. What a buzz, I was excited, this was so much fun. I walked home, two more cars passed me but all they saw was a young woman bouncing along, happy in her sexuality.