One of my friends became the envied owner of a packet of pictures of nude women. They were passed from hand to hand. I persuaded the fortunate owner to let me take them home with me overnight. I wanted to enjoy them in private, at leisure, in the seclusion of my room. One by one I examined them with my cock sticking up and threatening to go off by mere force of mental stimulation. What took my eye was the fascinating triangle of curly hair which stood out so prominently on the pubic regions of the models. None of the little girls I had dealings with had hair down there, or at least more than a soft, incipient, almost imperceptible growth. The thick, curly profusion which adorned the sexual regions of the ladies in these pictures held my eyes in fascination. What an exquisite sensation those crisp curls would provoke as they tickled one' s cock and testicles. And their breasts, full, round and luscious, projecting outward like snowy hills! Not a girl I knew had anything to compare with what these pictures revealed.

As I studied them, my hand unconsciously dropped downward over an erected cock which was fairly bristling with fury. And, unable to resist the urge, I jacked myself off with rapid strokes. As orgasm took place several jets of milky fluid spurted outward. My testicles were secreting semen and I now constituted a first- class risk to damsels of twelve and upward who were indiscreet enough to let me squirt that hot starchy looking stuff between their legs. When the last drop had been squeezed out, I sighed, hid the pictures under my mattress, and turned out the light.

I wanted a mature woman, one who had hair around her cunt and big breasts and I wanted her with all the ardor of my being. But there was no woman I dared approach. Then, as unexpectedly as golden haired little Flora had entered my life, Fortune led me, or I might say, actually shoved me, right into circumstances which culminated in the fulfilment of my ambition.