Girl next door.
My crush not only makes me look like a "breast-obsessed stalker" but nearly got my legs broken.

Back when I was at 6th form, making me precisely the right age to have my hormones permanently set to turbo (like age matters), my next door neighbour's daughter was roughly 24. She was and still is a delightfully nubile and petite blonde with an immensely pleasing degree of pertness. I think it fair to say that I had something of a crush. On hot, sunny days, when she wasn't jetting around the world (she was an air hostess, no less), she liked nothing better than to sunbathe in the back garden. Topless. And so the story unfolds with an air of tired inevitability...

Their garden is completely overlooked by our house and you can imagine my excitement, having arrived home early one afternoon to find her draped over a sun lounger; somehow having lost most of her attire. In my excitement to race from the back bedroom to the hole in the garden fence to get a closer look, I tripped. This wouldn't have been such an issue if I hadn't been at the top of the stairs at the time. I gave it the full Superman to about halfway down, flying gracefully until I put out my hands to grab the banister and wall to stop myself. Unfortunately I was already falling with such pace that I got friction burns on my palms and automatically recoiled, meaning I fell almost the entire length of the staircase without slowing at all. I hit the floor with tremendous force, bending my legs under me in a way that would make a physiotherapist sweat. At first I couldn't feel anything, until I was suddently overcome by the single most intense sensation of pain I have ever experienced. I was certain something was broken. After dragging myself to the sofa and hauling myself onto it using only my arms, I laid waiting for roughly four hours until someone found me. Luckily, it later turned out to be just a very bad sprain but I can safely say it was far more painful than either of the two times I have broken a bone. The swelling and continuing pain prevented me from walking for a week and a half and I also had to make up some flimsy excuses for parents and tutors as to how it all happened.

The next time it was sunny, I walked downstairs.
( Nimble Colin camera-wrangling, globe-trotting whisky enthusiast, Thu 28 Sep 2006, 22:37, Reply)