Was I the luckiest kid in England?




I guess we all have our first memory of that scissors initiation. I've never
told anybody this before, or put it into writing beyond my own personal diary,
which I began at exactly the same time as my scissors initiation - to record
events for posterity. However largely thanks to the internet I realised that I
was far from alone. Now more than enough time has passed to record this
incident on the internet; I'm now 51 and my "Aunt Jean has passed on. I have
of course not used her real name here.

Right, well I was only a young lad of 10 if my diary serves me correctly. My
father had left a couple of years before, so it was just my mother and me, she
worked really hard to keep us both. One Saturday a month, my mum had a lady
friend who used to come over in the afternoon's, so my mum could go shopping
"up west" in London. This would be back in the early seventies. At that time
there used to be lots of wrestling on TV, always on Saturday afternoons in a
sports show called "World of Sport" anchored by a guy called Dickie Davies, it
was on London Weekend Television - this might stir a few memories out there.
In those days the wrestling was more mat orientated, with lots of scissors;
head, body and figure 4 etc. Instead of the "show-time" we tend to get
nowadays where everyone dresses up and there is very little actual mat
wrestling!

Well, on this particular afternoon it was raining, and I was playing about
indoors. Jean, my mum's friend who was "Aunt Jean" to me, was watching the
all-in wrestling on TV. She was probably in her mid forties then, fairly
average looking as I recall, but I remember always being attracted to her
legs. In those days slacks (now called leggings) were all the fashion. I
remember her legs more than anything else, because they were long and curvy. I
guess she was around 5' 7" or so, but she seemed to have real long legs for
her height, yet her thighs looked big and strong. Those slacks she used to
wear were normal enough when she was standing, but when she sat down, boy did
they cling to her legs like a second skin - that's the part I enjoyed most;
watching her sit down in the easy chair and cross those legs - wow! Often she
would cross her legs and then slide one of her hands in-between her inner
thighs, which I found intensely stimulating and I now wonder whether she did
that on purpose just for my benefit. I was always fascinated by the way her
thighs used to balloon up when she did that, goodness they looked so inviting,
like they could swallow you up inside, and I absolutely ached to get my hand
in where she sometimes kept one of hers. I secretly fantasized about that,
well maybe it wasn't secret after all - maybe she noticed, actually thinking
about it now, I don't see how she could have FAILED to notice! Let's face it;
kids are not exactly subtle about these things are they? I must have stared
until my eyes were about to pop!

As usual I was being a bit noisy, and probably a nuisance. Anyway, I did
something to annoy her, and as luck would have it, one wrestler on the TV had
another in a headscissors at that exact moment. Jean scolded me, then said
"next time you do that, I'll put you in that hold", pointing to the television
screen. I remember being amazed at what she'd just said, especially when the
context of it sank in. I believe now that she was actually setting an
invitation for me, and the ball was firmly in my court. Well, she might just
as well have said "do that again", because I took one look at that hold on TV,
and went straight back to messing about as I was before, only ten times worse!
Jean was true to her word; she got out of the chair, came across to me, I was
mucking about on the floor trying my utmost to really wind her up - probably
trying just a bit too hard actually, anyway I think I succeeded.

I remember her being furious, or at least acting like she was, and dragging me
away from something, I can't remember for sure now, but I think I was messing
about with a potted plant on a coffee table - and had managed to spill some
soil onto the carpet, anyway she dragged me backwards quite forcibly, and I
was amazed at her strength, as she did this I chipped in with some choice
verbal tantrums, just to keep the whole thing going nicely. The last thing I
wanted now was just to be told off verbally!

Next thing I know we seem to have got back to the armchair, her standing and
me being dragged on my backside, this is the chair that she was sitting in
whilst watching the TV. I remember being annoyed because the headscissors on
the wrestling bout on TV had ended, thinking she might have forgotten what she
had said earlier. I needn't have worried. I was on my backside, facing away
from her, towards the TV screen when she sat down, but as she did so, she
pulled me back towards her quite forcibly - like she really meant business;
next thing I'm aware of (and shall never forget) is those long legs snaking
around my neck - what a feeling! I held my breath and waited for what was
coming. Yes, it was a proper headscissors, with me trapped between those upper
thighs of hers, and her ankles firmly crossed to close the trap. I can clearly
recall Jean saying "at last I've found a way to shut you up Mark", She
probably said that as I had, for the first time, actually gone quiet!

Next thing I know is I'm being gently but firmly squeezed between those thighs
that I'd admired for so long. Looking back now, I reckon Jean MUST have been
aware of my infatuation with her legs; either that or it was an ENORMOUS
coincidence. Boy what a sublime feeling that was, I could feel her inner
thighs squeezing around my little cheeks and ears, it would have made a
tremendous picture I remember thinking after, because her thighs felt HUGE
around my boyish face. I sat there hardly daring to breath in case it ended,
then after a while I plucked up courage to raise one of my hands and place it
on one of her thighs, under the pretext of trying to escape, I added some
wriggles for the sake of effect too. Once again I clearly remember her saying
"it's no good; you can't escape" in a mocking voice. Wow! I took this as an
okay from her to use my hands, so under the pretext of trying to escape, I
lifted my other hand to her opposite thigh, and did a good impersonation of
trying to wriggle free, although in actual fact I was enjoying the sensation
of feeling those thighs I had admired for so long.

I cannot ever forget that first lightly disguised grope; because that's what
it actually was, and I'm 100% convinced now that Jean knew it at the time.
Those flexed thighs felt so firm yet curvy to the touch, as I felt them she
squeezed slightly, almost as if she was flexing them up for me, yet I was
never in any danger, although I'm certain now, had she wanted to she could
have squeezed me out. Yet that was obviously not her intention, as this gentle
but tight scissors seemed to be lasting and lasting, instead it appeared that
this was actually scissors captivity as a form of punishment for my earlier
indiscretions, well it sure beat being sent to my room! After a while she
seemed to be more interested in the TV than me, so I came to the conclusion
that I was destined to stay for a while, oh boy! She squeezed gently, just
enough to keep me prisoner. All the time I pretended to escape, but probably
not very convincingly. I was really more interested in discovering the feel of
those massive thighs, now bigger than ever it seemed to me trapped inside
them. In fact they appeared huge, but not fat in any way, just sheer firmness
interspersed with taught areas of muscle like cables.

I'd found a spot I particularly liked; it was the upper, or front thigh on one
side, I can't remember which, but it was the leg in which the foot was the
lower of the two crossed ankles, I remember that. There was the most stunning
bulging muscle up there, right along the front, or top. My little hand on that
side could barely surround it; it felt huge, yet so curvy, and alive to my
touch. I recall it kind of "rippled" as I struggled and she responded by
tightening her squeeze a little. It was impossible for me to get it all
covered in my little hand, and I had to move my hands along its entire
rippling length to experience it all, from one end to the other. Stunning and
very stimulating! Thinking about it now, it must have been so obvious what I
was doing, but it's amazing what you can get away with when you're just a kid!
I remember getting the mother of a hard-on that afternoon, and for the first
time ever I literally throbbed with excitement. After a while feeling every
gorgeous inch of those thighs, I'd drop my hands to the floor and just relax a
while, or from time to time I'd pretend to try and part her calves (I couldn't
really reach her ankles), Jean always responded with a slightly tighter
squeeze when I did this, presumably to remind me of who was boss. Auntie Jean
continued to quietly hold me as her prisoner whilst she watched the TV.

Thinking about it now, she must have been slouched slightly forward on that
armchair, like she was semi-reclined, because she'd managed to put that
headscissors on with the very tops of those magnificent thighs. I could feel
her body right behind me, so I'm convinced there was no meaningful gap in that
particular direction. I got exactly the same impression from looking in front
of me too, in other words there seemed a long expanse of thighs until her
clenched knees became visible, so she must have had the back of my head pretty
well wedged into her crotch. Isn't it amazing how females always seem to do
this when they perform a headscissors? I remember just how strong those
squeezing thighs of hers felt encased in those now amazingly tight pair of
slacks, in fact if those thighs of hers had ballooned outwards much more, I
don't think the slacks could have contained them! Those slacks were made of a
type of stretchy material and were navy blue in colour. They had sort of loops
at the bottom which the foot went inside; I know that because she always
kicked her shoes off indoors. They were very smooth to the touch and appeared
to be made of a very thin, soft and warm feeling material. She seemed to be
wearing flesh coloured tights underneath her slacks, I noticed that from her
tightly crossed ankles to my front.

I don't honestly know how long she held me there. Unfortunately I couldn't see
the clock on the mantelpiece, in fact I couldn't see much at all beyond her
clenched thighs squashed around my cheeks. Just imagine a small 10 year old
kid with his head deep inside a 40 year old women's headscissors, a
headscissors that involved trapping her willing captive as high up between her
big thighs as he would fit, and you can probably imagine that my vision was
pretty much zero aside from upwards and slightly ahead. From my memory, I am
pretty certain that at one stage she sat up a bit more erect, presumably to
increase her comfort whilst watching the TV. You often see guys in this hold,
and sometimes even a grown man can be swallowed up inside, well just imagine
if that head was half the size - total immersion by thighs! They literally
overwhelmed me; my every sense was surrounded by their thick, firm yet alive
captivity. I was pretty much deaf because they filled my ears, I couldn't see
much at all after she changed position, except straight upwards, and I also
remember clearly how they closed up again directly in front of my face, as if
my head was just a tennis ball in the grip of a big snake!

Thinking back right now, I do remember that I stayed put in my fleshy prison
right the way through the wrestling on TV. It had been on around 15 minutes
when she first locked me up. The wrestling on Saturday afternoons lasted an
hour. I recall that when I was finally released the weather broadcast after
the news was being shown! Because of my total immersion in between her thighs,
I didn't even know the wrestling on TV had finished! By my calculation I had
been in that thunder thighed prison of hers for around 1 hour and 5 minutes -
is this some kind of a record I wonder? My mum was due home in around 15
minutes, and I think that was the only reason Jean had let me go. Once she'd
released me, and I was on the carpet in front of her, she must have been aware
of my obvious erection. I know I was really embarrassed by it, as I just
couldn't do anything to hide it, although I tried. However my crude attempts
must have just made it more obvious.

I remember what Jean said next just like it was yesterday, she crossed those
legs of hers, slipping one of her hands deep between her crossed thighs, which
nearly made my eyes pop, and did little to make my erection subside, then said
"Well Mark, now you know what's going to happen when you're naughty with me
don't you?". Jeepers!

For once I said the right thing at the right time, retorting something along
the lines of "You got lucky auntie Jean, you'll never catch me like that
again, and I'll be as naughty as I like". Jean smiled knowingly. I think she
knew then that this particular activity made us both very happy.

And so began something really special that punctuated my growing up period
until I left school. Jean never did anything that I didn't want to do, and
there was NEVER anything of an openly sexual nature. I was more than a willing
participant at all times on our once monthly meets at my mum's house, in fact
it was ALWAYS me who initiated it. Jean usually wore slacks, until that
memorable hot summer of 1976, when to my intense pleasure, she one month
turned up in shorts! When I say shorts, I don't mean the long, baggy things of
today either. Fortunately the fashion in the mid seventies was for much
shorter shorts than that. They were not hot pants of course, but they were
about as short as a women in her late forties would wear, I mean you couldn't
see her cheeks, but they revealed her thighs pretty well, save for a few
inches at the top when she was standing, however that all changed when she sat
down and they rode up even higher. I noticed for the first time just how
smooth and tanned those shapely legs of hers looked.

This was probably the next best remembered event: Jean had been sitting
outside in the back garden, and I had been watching her from my upstairs
bedroom window. She probably noticed me, because mid afternoon she came
indoors and had kicked off her sandals as usual, and was reading a magazine
which my mum always left out for her. Excitingly we had by now graduated to
proper wrestling sessions on the carpet without any provocation from the
wrestling on TV; in fact it usually wasn't even turned on anymore! Instead I
just initiated it by mucking about and doing something to annoy her. Sometimes
I actually attacked her in a sort of wrestling provocation, usually boasting
about how I was going to beat her this time. This usually got things going to
everyone's satisfaction.

On this hot summers afternoon I was being particularly annoying. I was
supposed to be weeding the back garden, but instead I'd come indoors and
started mucking about. Jean had asked me several times to go back outside and
do my chores, or at least play quietly outside. My reaction was along the
lines of "get lost Auntie Jean, what are you going to do about it anyway". The
answer was short and to the point. Jean always seemed to change her character
when it came time to get physical. She was perfectly normal and ladylike at
all other times, but when she got out of her chair and came towards me I
always felt a lovely shiver of fear run down my spine. She looked like she
really meant business, especially in those stunning shorts.

I pretended to make a bolt for the door to the back garden, but managed to
contrive to trip up before I got there - I could have been a stuntman! She was
right on my heels, and obviously didn't want me to get outside where the
neighbours might have been able to see us, nor did I of course. I was lying
face down on the carpet when she straddled my back, and I had that delicious
sensation of her sitting astride my lower back and pinning me face down to the
floor. I thrashed about as much as I could, and possibly because I was getting
bigger and stronger, actually looked like I was going to escape, which was why
Jean took drastic action to keep me under her control: First she gripped my
wrists with her hands and pinned them to the floor in front of us, this forced
her to move up my body. I couldn't believe what was happening and just lay
there with baited breath, struggling as best as I could to convince her that
she needed to do something even more radical to contain me.

She kept moving and moving, and I wriggled more, because I wanted her to just
carry on. Well she didn't stop until she was actually sitting on the back of
my neck! God it was a fantastic feeling. Having reached her destination, she
then promptly tightened her thighs around my face, I mean really tighten them
like she was putting on a scissors, but didn't have to worry about crossing
her ankles and hurting me anymore. I tried to move, but couldn't. I tried
really hard, but she just squeezed my wrists more with her hands, and
tightened her thighs around my face. I must have been real horny by that
stage, lying face down on a hard floor, especially with all the wriggling I
was doing, how I actually contained myself I don't know.

Of course I was very familiar with Jean's inner thighs by now, but never when
bare like they were this time. I was amazed by their smoothness, and they also
felt warm as they tightly followed the contours of my face. Most of all I
remember seeing small details like a little mole and very fine hairs on their
huge girth for the first time. I had managed to lift my head a little so I was
looking directly ahead when the big lockdown came, so was in a good position
to experience them. If anything this felt even tighter than usual, almost as
if the very act of kneeling seemed to make those thighs of hers swell to new
proportions of immenseness! I felt dwarfed by their confinement. What was
doubly exciting was experiencing that straddle sensation for the first time;
the two combined were a very heady combination.

After what seemed like an age, she finally let go of my hands. After a while
the penny dropped, and I quickly placed them both on her respective thighs. Oh
my, did they feel good. I had never felt anything so smooth yet so strong in
my entire life. So began the exploration as usual. This seemed to be very much
a part of each wrestling session we had, and I'm convinced that it was a very
important part of the experience for her. I've since deduced that this
probably constituted some form of worship to her.

Then after a while, I've got written down in my journal about 10 minutes, she
once again took hold of both of my hands in her own. I was a bit puzzled, but
all became clear when she rolled us both over until the situation was reversed
to a certain extent, and I found myself back in a more normal headscissors,
with us both on our backs. Once her ankles were securely crossed she let go of
my hands, and I got to feel those bare thighs for the first time in a proper
headscissors. As usual I went straight to my favourite front thigh muscle and
felt it's by now bulging, rippling girth. She responded by working it for me
as I groped around it, with lots of tightening of the muscles as she squeezed.
By now I was a few years bigger and stronger, and she made allowance for that
by upping the stakes; her squeezes became more pressured. This of course
resulted in one heck of a throbbing hard on. Jean was obviously aware of my
barely concealed excitement as she proceeded to rest her crossed ankles on it!
This proved very embarrassing for me, and each time she rested her heel on it,
I wriggled about a bit so it would drop off, whereby she promptly repeated her
action! I would add that is all she did, rest her ankles on it, but I guess it
gave her a thrill to think that she was the cause of all this discomfort!

My diary is chock full of accounts of my wrestling sessions with auntie Jean,
around 5 years worth on a roughly monthly basis. Then there was a long pause
after I left school when we lost touch for a few years. Fortunately however
that wasn't a permanent situation, and when I moved back in with my mum again
after living on my own for a bit, we became re-acquainted. Obviously it was
much harder to get down to some wrestling again because of the changed
situation, and the fact that I'd grown up, but we did manage it just the once,
on a memorable occasion when Jean had managed to stay over with us for several
days, one of which was my mothers monthly trip to the local flower arranging
class. She didn't originally want to go, but Auntie Jean talked her into it,
and I just knew why. There is plenty more to tell, and maybe I'll put some
more of it down for this website if Diana will let me.

Happy squeezing!