Every Sunday we would go to my grandparent’s house for a roast lunch
The Sunday Roast
Nan & Pop had a big backyard with a hills hoist smack dab in the middle
An Aussie backyard
They had two German Shepard’s Bonnie & Clyde
They had a big silver shed in the back corner of the yard which sat up on a slightly raised part of the block.
I use to sit up on the roof of that silver shed with my slingshot and survey the yard, my land, my Kingdom, my country
Bonnie and Clyde patrolling the perimeter for insurgents
From the castles watch tower I could see all around, 360 degrees.
To the left Mr & Mrs Karrapanos with their nuclear olive trees and mortar tomatoes
To the rear Mr Jackson with his armoured blue ‘wife beater’ singlet and his VB can grenades
To the right were Mr & Mrs Mills and their daughter, my arch enemy, Lisa.
On Sundays Mrs Mills would bake cookies, Anzac cookies, Choc chip cookies and scotch fingers.
The smell infiltrating the air like anthrax
Lisa would be in her yard skipping, skipping her rope of death.
She always wore the same dress on Sundays, her Sunday dress. It was white with little red cherries dotted all over and red ribbon lining around the base, the short sleeves and the little collar. She always had her hair back in a little ponytail and held in place by a little cherry hair tie.
She was the enemy
I would lie on my stomach and shoot nuclear olives at her which I had collected on an earlier mission in Karrapanos country
Lisa would run in crying, crying to her mum who would then be at our front door knocking, knocking for an apology.
My other enemy, my parents would bring Lisa through the house and out the back and into my kingdom, my country.
Bonnie & Clyde rendered helpless against their parent powers
I would be forced to allow her to become apart of the coalition
Her job
Medic
She never wanted to play war; she always wanted to play Doctors and Nurses
Doctors and nurses was for pussies, I was a soldier, a tough man soldier a warrior.
One fateful Sunday afternoon Lisa and I headed out on a mission.
Our mission
To infiltrate Mr Jackson country; wife beater country
We would find a stronghold behind the rusted Datsun 200B and fire our nuclear olives at Mr Jackson while he drove his Victor mower armour plated tank.
Our mission was going to plan with wife beater being hit a number of times to the head, chest and legs
All of a sudden we were spotted, spotted by Jackson wife beater, VB can grenades coming in thick and fast, landing inches away, exploding in spray, covering us.
“Retreat, retreat, enemy upon us”
We retreat over the great wall fence and land safely back in our own country
As I’m standing there checking myself for any injuries, war wounds, a stray VB can grenade comes flying over the great wall fence and I’m hit
HIT
Right in the nuts
I go down
“Man down, man down”
“Medic, I need a Medic”
We take cover in the silver castle and Medic Lisa assesses the damage
Reluctantly on Medic Lisa's orders I remove my shorts
Medic Lisa holds my injured cock and nuts in her tiny hands and tells me this will make it better
As my injured soldier cock got hard Medic Lisa’s eye’s got wide and mouth dropped open. She withdrew her hands in shock and started apologising.
“It’s ok it doesn’t hurt it just does that sometimes” I said
“I haven’t seen my daddy’s do that” She said
“What does yours do” I say
She lifted her cherry dotted dress and pulled down her undies and right there in front of me for the first time I saw it
My first CUNT
It was amazing; I knew right then and there I would be searching this great big world of ours for the rest of my life in search of
The CUNT
From that fateful mission, that fateful wife beater mission, I would stumble upon my life’s mission
My mission for CUNT
Every Sunday we would go to my grandparent’s house for a roast lunch
The Sunday Roast
Nan & Pop had a big backyard with a hills hoist smack dab in the middle
They had a big silver shed in the back corner of the yard which sat up on a slightly raised part of the block.
My new best friend Lisa and I use to play in that big silver Hospital for hours
Doctors and Nurses
Hours
Exploring
Playing War
It’s for PUSSIES
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11 comments:
My doctors name was Graeme. He lived next door to my grandparents. He had the softest hands and the cutest penis I have ever seen. He always wanted to stop playing well before I did.
J xx
hahahaha
Nice one soldier!
Wow that brings back some childhood memories. Funny how most of my childhood experiences were with other little girls though.
I remember watching my first porn with my best friend Bianca and it getting stuck in the VCR. We were about 9. I have been corrupted ever since!
I enjoyed that so much more than Saving Private Ryan and almost more then Debbie does D platoon.
I think the first time my Jatz crackers were fondled by the fairer sex it was after a nut strike too - it must be a common excuse that catches us in a moment of weakness.
Anon- Doctors & nurses. It’s the universal game for all to play
Surfercam- That’s Dr Soldier to you.
(.) (.)- I think you should share those experiences with us all.
I expect a post first thing.
If not Dr Bo Bo is going to have to make a house call.
Josh- And from that day forth you have had many moments of weakness I presume
I love it Bo!
Childhood innocence turns bad.
XXX
Aw, corka little story mate. I totally still have my cherry hair ties :)
I got de-registered at 8 years of age for improperly suchering Michelle Fox's axe wound.
Never practised medicine in Vaucluse again after that...
Cheryl- There’s nothing innocent about childhood. Apart from ignorance, that’s bliss.
Ms smack- Really? You mean you still haven’t popped you’re cherry?
Fingers- Dr Fingers, Dr Fingers Patel,
I do believe the authorities and A Current Affair are hot on your tail
hey.
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