The ravages of time!
"Show me your widgy and I'll show you my twinkle," she squeaked. To my delight, pretty little Danielle was not shy behind closed doors. We were five. The wendy house in the school classroom was a favourite place for amorous young things like ourselves, keen to learn about the opposite sex. Of course, the wendy house wasn't entirely private. The windows in the wooden walls were not glazed and there were no curtains, so any passers by could easily have peered through to witness what would, in hindsight, appear to be either very cute or rather disturbing. They could even have reached in for a fiddle. For these reasons, I never did manage a twinklglimpse or offer a widgyglance, and the option of a swift jimmynudging was years away.

There was another little lass called Heidi who always wanted to drag me into the wendy house. She was wildly jealous of Danielle's relationship with me. I spurned Heidi's advances, fighting her off tooth and nail until she simply gave up and moved on. Imagine my sense of self-disappointment then, when, ten years later, Heidi blossomed into a thoroughly attractive, respectable yet foxy young nymphette, and Danielle turned out to be a filth-ridden, pot-bellied, greasy-haired, acne-riddled, mean-spirited, hook-nosed, gorilla-armed witch of a bearded munter with a voice like a peacock having its neck stamped on and who was as thick as sweet Jack Fuckery!

Bless her.
(stusut79, Thu 20 Oct 2005, 16:10, Reply)