Free Nigel Benn by Nigel Benn Page B

She took me to the dance floor and held me so tightly that penetration was the only way we could have got closer. In her lifetime, the woman, who was 31, must have had more pricks than a second-hand dartboard, but I wasn’t to know that at the time. She whispered in my ear. She said how much she would like to take me to arestaurant. As she danced, she moved her head from side to side. I had to keep ducking in case I connected with her parrot nose.
    The meal she had promised was delicious. She drank a toast to me with neat gin. Then another, followed by a third. I was reeling. After that we got stuck into the main course, duck à l’orange. She’d ordered plenty of German wine and after our fresh fruit cake, she ordered brandy. I knew I would have to work hard for the meal. I suggested we cut it short and went back to her place. She stripped me, went to the bathroom and returned naked. I gave it to her and she was dying for it. She had a lovely bed with a full-length mirror along the wall. I saw our reflected bodies and thought: ‘This 17-year-old boy is doing good.’
    By now, she was really making me earn my meal. She wanted more and more and more. I was Lester Piggot riding Red Rum. I was exhausted after doing it the second time. Her whole body shuddered and I fell asleep on her heaving breasts. Half-way through the night, I felt her hand working its way down my back to my bottom. I woke with a jerk as she tried to push her finger into my anus.
    ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘You leave my black ass alone. Ain’t nobody touching my backside. I’m not that kinky. I’m not a homosexual.’
    I managed a third time but couldn’t go the fourth, no matter what she did, and that lady was experienced! She taught me a lot. In the morning, we were woken by her young daughter who brought us a cup of tea. This was too much for me.I didn’t even realise she had been married. I returned, bleary-eyed, to camp. My clothes were in disarray and I begged John to look after me. ‘I can’t take any more,’ I pleaded. That was the first time he had heard me admit defeat.
    She wanted me back but I managed to avoid her by concentrating on two other German girls called Anke and Gabrielle, both of whom became my girlfriends. Anke was my age, and Gabrielle about six years older. I met Anke at a disco and she was stunning. Her body was fitter than mine. She had her own business. Gabby was beautiful in a different way. She had long hair down to her bottom, a slim body with small breasts and quite big hips. I met her at a field sports day. She had been married to an English serviceman and had a kid, so I thought I had quite a good chance. That’s a joke, but I chatted her up and she and Anke, while both unaware of it, became my main girlfriends, although I had to do a bit of nifty juggling to make sure the girls didn’t find out that I was two-timing them.
    Apart from them, I had a considerable number of one-night stands, some of which were quite eventful. The German girls I met seemed to be fairly uninhibited. They didn’t seem to have the normal hang-ups about making love on the first night. In fact, they often suggested it!
    Sometimes I wish I’d been more choosy, but then youth can be excused many things. I still shudder a little at the memory of making love to John Lennon. Not the Beatle, but a German girl we called by that name because of her looks. While shewas a lot of fun to be with, her looks ensured that you could safely leave her with your mates and know she’d still be there waiting on your return. However, after a stiff drink or three, this girl became Marilyn Monroe. We went out into the fields together and, like a gentleman, I removed my jacket and laid it on the ground before undressing her and making love. Fired with passion, I had not noticed how wet the ground had been and, when we returned, virtually the whole camp had a laugh at my expense. Everyone took the mickey.
    ‘Oh mate, you didn’t go with her, did you?’ they