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What’s the matter?’ ‘Fran,’ I said, too apprehensive and ashamed to look her in the eye but determined to go through with my plan, ‘I have a...terrible confession to make.’ And I made it. I told her everything. Well, I need to qualify that statement slightly. Uncle Albert’s name for his little project was a joke she would definitely not have appreciated, while Connie and Kylie featured only as ‘this girl I know’ and ‘this other girl’, and I was far too ashamed to admit how I had spent my lunch. I knelt in front of her and slid my hands into the elastic at the top of her knickers. I could feel her skin, the softness of her flesh. The waistband of her knickers was cutting into the swell of her belly. I pulled down slowly – the knickers sliding down, down the underside of that fat belly and then, the first few long, sparse, straggly hairs of her cunt-mound appeared. I had waited so long for this moment. A couple of stolen glimpses in the past had sustained my fantasies but now I was. More

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