I was fourteen years old the first time I had my heart broken. It was lunchtime and I was stood in the school playground eating Blackjacks and Fruit Salads when this guy told me he had just kissed the girl I loved.
‘I took her behind the woodwork shop,’ he said all cocky.
Tears leaked from my eyes. My hands trembled. I was heartbroken.
‘And I squeezed her tits,’ he said. ‘Do you want to know how big her tits are?’
‘No I don’t want to know how big her tits are,’ I said, completely devastated.
‘Guess what else I did?’
‘I fingered her.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I put my fingers inside her.’
‘Where? In her mouth?’
‘No you idiot…In her vagina.’
‘Urrrghh! What did she do?’
‘She went like this… AH AH AH AH!’
‘Why?’ I said. ‘Did it hurt her?’
‘No way,’ he said. ‘She absolutely loved it!’
Then he sniffed his fingers and said…’Ummm, Shippams salmon paste.’ He asked me if I wanted to sniff them.
‘No I don’t.’
‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Sniff them.’
‘I don’t want to sniff them.’
He pushed his fingers into my face and shouted, ‘Sniff my stinking fishy fingers!’
I pushed him back and said, ‘I don’t want to sniff your fucking fingers…. And if I am being completely honest… I don’t think you should be telling me this sir.’