1 Carl's Adventures Begin Pt. 01

All Characters In These Stories Are Over 18 Years Of Age

INTRODUCING CARL JAMESON

The first series of these stories centres on a young Australian man, Carl Jameson, who was born in the Boomer era. (See PREAMBLE). He could just remember the end of the Menzies Prime Ministership and the exhilarating but brief Camelot era of the Whitlam transformation. In his teens, he would enthusiastically devour the works and stellar careers of Howard Jacobsen's "Brilliant Creatures" Clive James, Germaine Greer, Robert Hughes and Barry Humphries and revel in their output of ground-breaking works and ideas.

Sadly for him, at the other end of the enlightenment scale, he had been one of the casualties of the reactionary Premier Bjelke-Petersen's state government and his fellow wowser Rona Joyner. (See PREAMBLE) Their fanatical zeal to oppose all forms of progressive education, including sex education and to ban books in the curriculum that could "pervert the minds" of the state's young would leave voids in their knowledge. Thanks to them, he'd had an information void instead of a well-founded, factually accurate, sex education.

Of course, such repressive views still exist in the world today in the form of opposition to the teaching of such politically sensitive material as the global impact of imperialism, critical race theory (which challenges racism), evolution (the widely accepted scientific theory which has displaced ancient biblical explanations of "creation") and secular humanism (which promoted the idea that people, individually or collectively, are quite capable of formulating their own moral codes which transcend cultures, superstition, conventions or religious doctrines - as demonstrated by the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights).

For Carl, such state sanctioned smothering of ideas and practices which were deemed by those in power to challenge their beliefs and authority was mirrored in his home. His parents were obviously uncomfortable with any mention of sex or any displays of nudity. Their way of dealing with such matters was to discourage any further mention of them by saying they were not to be talked about at all or only after he was "old enough to understand." He would always remember his mother chasing him around the house with a belt when he told her to "get fucked" -- an expression that he'd heard regularly in the schoolyard. Although she didn't catch up with him, he interpreted her anger as an indication that sex was sinful and never to be mentioned. She said that such language was not acceptable but never explained why.

Consequently, as an only child, Carl's "education" on topics which were clearly verboten in the schoolroom and at home, had to come from his school friends. Often, to his embarrassment, he would eventually find out just how much that information was inaccurate or misguided. It convinced him of the need for information to be accurate and from competent and reliable sources.

Fortunately, the professionalism of his primary school teachers served him well in other areas of his formal education. By the time he reached his final year, he had regularly gained top marks in his class across all subjects in the curriculum. His results won him a full scholarship to the prestigious Highgrove College in Brisbane -- a private secondary school for boys. There, for the next four years, he would be provided with free tuition, something that his family would never have been able to afford.

Now, as an eighteen-year-old walking out of Highgrove Boys' College, Carl had arrived at the end of his secondary education. He perceived it as the moment when he entered the real world with the all freedoms of an adult - such as the right to vote, thanks to Whitlam. He was now looking forward to the adventures ahead and had already begun planning his first moves. Unlike most of his peers at the college, he'd already decided not to go directly to university, but instead to take a year away from study as a Gap Year.

There were two reasons for his decision. Firstly, he needed to earn some money to help pay his way through university. The government scholarship alone wouldn't be enough to cover all of his expenses. Luckily, under its terms, he could postpone taking up his studies for as long as two years. He was sure just one year would be enough. To help with his frugal lifestyle, he would remain for the duration of his Gap year in the family home, making a weekly contribution to the family coffers.

Secondly, life at an all-boys college like Highgrove offered very few opportunities to meet girls. His life there was so monastic that he yearned to experience a more normal social life for a while. He had long realised that, if he wasn't going to be shown or told about the things he was naturally curious about, then he'd have find out secretly on his own or from friends and associates.

As soon as he'd turned 18, he passed the state driving test to qualify for a driver's licence. At the end of the Gap Year, he would have saved enough to buy a serviceable but cheap second-hand car. From time to time, he would meet up with some of his former classmates. Most had left home and were fancy free. As he chatted with them before the start of the academic year, Carl realised that he was lagging behind the pack in achieving the landmark experience of sexual exploration with a girl. From what they told him, most of these young men had at least had one steamy session with an amenable female.

To Carl, their "first time" stories mostly sounded like mute, instinctive, explorations fuelled by alcohol. Discounting the obviously fantasy creations, he had the impression that their foreplay involved a few drinks and working up the courage to push their luck with a co-operative girl. What followed rarely went beyond a clumsy grope in the dark - in the cramped confines of a car, on an air bed, in a hike tent, or in a gritty encounter on one of Australia's beaches. Conversation, it seemed, was almost non-existent. Any attempt at it was extinguished by having to compete with rock music blaring from the car radio or a portable transistor set. The inept touching and fumblings were purely experimental, mostly no more than groping the unexplored parts of a girl they hardly knew. After they had shared this uninspiring information with him, Carl was not daunted or deterred. It only strengthened his resolve to follow suit in the years ahead.

Paula

Having made those two decisions, Carl started to look for a way to make some money. He soon found a job at one of the two roadside fruit and vegetable markets along the highway close to his home. Passing cars could pull off the busy road and drive into a large carpark right in front of the displays of fruit and vegetables. He worked on weekends and three week-days. On his very first day, he met a shapely twenty-three year old called Paula, who had worked there full time for the previous year. Sunday was her only day off. She broke the ice by telling him a dirty joke. In Carl's sheltered upbringing, girls just didn't do that sort of thing. He really liked her, although he had no illusions about having her as a girlfriend. After all, she was five years older than he was. Besides, she told him that she had a regular boyfriend and hinted that they were doing more than just kissing. With her short and loosely curled strawberry blonde hair and blue-grey eyes, he found her to be bewitchingly pretty. Even more compelling were her full breasts and trim figure, emphasised by form fitting clothes and revealing necklines. Her outfits always made her look highly desirable. Her effervescent personality, sense of humour, combined with her warm and friendly manner put him at ease and, for a shy young male, fun to talk to.

Part of their job, when there was a lull in customers, was to replenish the stacks of produce with new stock and to remove any blemished items. Regularly, when Paula leaned forward to work on the displays, Carl, being tall, had an unsettling view of her shapely breasts hanging in her bra. On one occasion he noticed that there was a little pink bow sitting in her cleavage between the low-cut cups. For some reason, in the sublime context of her deeply sculpted valley, that tiny fragment of pink ribbon looked so intimate that Carl struggled to maintain his composure. Not only that. When she was walking, he noticed for the first time how her breast tissue juddered in a characteristic way -- like a firm jelly when it is bumped. He couldn't stop thinking about that intriguing observation. Unusually for Australia, she had very pale skin, so white it seemed slightly translucent. As a result, he noticed that the tops of her breasts were marbled with a faint network of blue blood vessels. Then one day, as she was bent over a box of apples replenishing the stock, she looked up and caught him staring down her top at her exposed cleavage. She cheekily asked him, "Having a good look?" Carl was sure he must have turned purple with embarrassment. But she remained bent forward, still looking up at him all glittery-eyed and grinning.

Once they were hitting it off, she confided in him that she and her sister had the crazy-brave idea of taking nude photographs of each other in their bedrooms. This was just before the advent of digital cameras, it was so well before sexting and nude selfies were commonplace. Polaroid cameras were in use but losing their appeal because the photos had poor definition. While the sisters were planning their intimate pics, Paula bought a roll of black and white film so they could snap some shots of each other. They had done so the previous week in her sister's bedroom, so the exposed film was still in the camera. However, the photos would definitely fall foul of the censorship laws and would be considered pornographic, so the girls weren't brazen enough to take them into a store to have them developed. Carl would have given anything to see those photos. Then he had an idea. His friend, Keith, was an amateur photographer and had a darkroom where he processed his own films. Carl knew the prints Keith made were of excellent quality. He told Paula he could get them printed for her by his friend. He added that Keith had a reputation for discretion and privacy because that was essential to assure the profitability of his services. The steady stream of guys who would approach him to process photos of their naked wives, girlfriends, other couples or even male friends was testimony to his trustworthiness.

When Carl suggested this option to her, she thought about it for a few days and discussed it with her sister, before telling him that they had decided against it. Pity. However, she described to him the shots that were on the film. As Paula told him the details of the pics, Carl could feel his cock struggling to escape the confines of his underpants. Her sister had taken shots of her posing topless then completely naked from a full-frontal position. Carl's imagination was running riot, triggered by her descriptions. He began wondering what her breasts would look like fully bared. How big would they be? How pert without a bra to support them? How large were her nipples and areolas? What colour were those focal points? What did her triangular patch of pubic hair look like? Was it dense or sparse? Would it have the same tint as her strawberry blonde hair?

Her younger sister had been even more daring. Paula had taken shots of her lying on her bed with her legs wide open and with one leg up the wall. Her most secret womanly treasures were on full display. Paul's brain reached the meltdown stage as he speculated on what her intimate parts would look like. He had no idea of what lay beyond that bushy covering. Sadly, once the girls had decided not to have the photos printed, Paula took the film out of the camera, unspooling it to expose it and then threw it away. That had seemed like a criminal waste to him. He would have loved to see both the sisters stark naked, but especially Paula. Naturally, Carl had wild fantasies about the images of these attractive young women in those daring poses. From that time on, whenever a woman gave Carl an unexpected view of a shapely cleavage or an upskirt glimpse, he would have an instant below-the-belt response. He attributed this lifelong obsession with opportunistic voyeurism to the way Paula had aroused him so strongly just by firing his imagination about the stolen view.

At the stall, turnover of staff was high, so Carl was disappointed but not surprised when Paula told him a week or two later that she was leaving for a new and better paying office job. However, Carl's disappointment was short-lived. It was offset by the fact that her replacement was his age. And right now, she was not dating anyone. Raelene, was not as pretty or as curvaceous as Paula, but she was pleasant looking with an impish charm about her. Her breasts, although smaller than Paula's, were still prominent, although her clothes concealed more of them than Paula's low-cut blouses. As they became better acquainted, the spark of attraction between them grew steadily.

Raelene

Raelene was less overtly sexual than Paula, so Carl wasn't aware that she'd had just enough previous experience to be looking for a guy who would push her boundaries and touch her in places where she'd never been touched before. She'd had a couple of boyfriends who had taught her about French kissing, fondled her breasts and even exposed their cocks to her. But she didn't trust them enough to allow them to go any further. Compared with those guys, Carl was better looking, well-spoken, respectful and charming, so she quickly decided he would be a safer and more appealing prospect. After she had been working there for a few weeks, another fellow worker, George, asked Carl if he wanted to come to a party he was holding at his parents' home. He suggested that Carl should invite Raelene, which he did. To his surprise, she accepted immediately.

On the night of the party, Carl picked Raelene up at her home. Her parents insisted she should be home before midnight. Raelene started to dispute their ruling but, to keep the peace, Carl promised that he'd bring her back by the appointed time. As they entered the lounge room of George's home, snacks and drinks were doing the rounds while everyone stood about chatting. Later in the evening George announced that it was time for some party games. Because his parents were at home monitoring proceedings (but pretending they weren't), the games remained quite innocuous until well into the night when George announced a game of Spin the Bottle. All but a few dim lights were turned off. At the time, Carl and Raelene were in the kitchen talking to the parents. So the game was well under way by the time they rejoined their friends.

It was hard to see what was going on at first because of the lack of good light. Once their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they saw the game was well in progress. A couple were standing in the centre of the room going for the world record of not breathing while their lips were welded together. Carl and Raelene joined the circle of friends sitting on the floor. After just three more spins, the bottle pointed to Raelene. As Carl had hoped, she chose him. They stood up and walked to the centre of the circle. Raelene surprised him by putting her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to her. He held her by her hips as she drew his lips to hers. She had wonderfully tender lips which tasted fresh and sweet. She smelled faintly of violets.

He'd heard of French kissing by this stage but had never had an opportunity to try it. A moment after their lips met, Carl felt her mouth open slightly. So, he responded the same way. Carl loved the sweet taste of her mouth but he didn't go as far as a complete tongue fuck, mainly because of all the people sitting around and watching. Predictably, his penis was hardening and unfurling as they held their long hungry kiss. As usual, his cock was out of his control, reacting to the heady moment. He had never experienced anything like that kiss. He drew her to him until her tummy was pressing against his rigid member. Raelene responded by tossing her head around and mashing her mouth wildly against his. When that got a few cheers from the others sitting around the circle, they called a halt to proceedings and resumed their places. It seemed no time until they had to leave to meet her parents' curfew. Once they arrived at her house, Carl walked her to her door and kissed her goodnight. Again, she gave him another deep and memorable kiss. He dared not press her or his luck further on a first date.

The next day they were both working at the fruit stall again. They took their lunch hour together in a back room. There were no fast-food outlets nearby. In fact, the American junk food franchises had not appeared in Brisbane at that time. So everyone working there would keep a cup and plate with their name on them in the cupboard provided and bring their lunch to work. When Carl walked in, Raelene was fixing her lunch and making a cup of coffee. It was a warm day, so she had worn a sleeveless emerald green blouse over a short, wrap-around skirt made of pale fawn linen, buttoned at the hip. When Carl came in behind her, he stopped just inside the door to admire her slim figure and shapely legs. Then he noticed, through the armhole of her blouse, he could see the swell of her right breast, cradled in her bra. Raelene was unaware that he had come into the lunchroom, so he took his time inflaming his sexual urges by prolonging his voyeuristic enjoyment of the bared part of her breast, before approaching her. He made her aware of his presence by putting his hands on her hips. She gave a little start of surprise, then turned around and kissed him -- just the way she had at George's party. Carl's cock was soon wedged warm and rigid between them.

As their kisses became more heated Carl was tempted to place his hand over her breast but, in a dilemma of indecision, thought better of it. He was charmed by the small purring sounds Raelene was making as they kissed. Better still, her pert breasts were pressed against him. She and Carl were the only ones on a lunch break, so they made themselves comfortable on an old padded couch. Carl was heartened by the way she pressed her tits against him again. Though small, they always looked so pointed and firm that Carl thought they would feel harder - like muscle tissue. Instead, they seemed as soft and pliant as foam rubber. Their limber quality and the fact that Carl could feel them through his shirt had such an electric effect on him that his groin began throbbing. As their kisses became even more passionate, ripples of pleasure surged upwards through his torso. He stopped kissing her for a moment and looked into her eyes. Her lips were slightly parted and her green irises darted back and forth from one of his eyes to the other. Was she telling him to go ahead and put a hand on her breast? At that inconvenient moment, they heard approaching footsteps. Carl stood up and pretended to be talking about how busy the morning had been. The new arrival turned out to be their boss; so they were not caught, but thwarted again.

It was approaching the time of year for the annual Royal Queensland Show. In those days, the event was not called a "Show" but an Agricultural Exhibition. For some quirky reason, it is customary in Australian slang for long words to be shortened (biscuit to 'bickie,' the town of Cloncurry to 'the Curry') and short words lengthened (Jack to 'Jacko'). Accordingly, the Brisbane "Exhibition" was commonly reduced to "the Ekka". It was and remains essentially an agricultural fair where the state's primary industry comes to the city to put its products and lifestyle on display. Large pavilions house farm animals from all over the state competing for the title of champion in their class. It is also an opportunity for manufacturers of agricultural machinery to put their equipment on display and pick up orders from farmers and graziers. For city folk, it was a chance to watch competitions like equestrian show jumping, sheep dog trials and wood chopping and see the best animals bred and raised by the pastoral industry. The younger generation had a rare chance to see farm animals and their young up close, to watch the evening fireworks and enjoy the attractions of Sideshow Alley -- tests of skill or luck, sedate or terrifying show rides and convenience food. Carl and Raelene were still at that adventurous age where they were happy to spend a disproportionate amount of their time on the hair-raising rides. Raelene proved to be a real daredevil, but what Carl enjoyed most were the moments when she clung to him if the ride became scary. As they made their way through the crowd, Raelene's hand brushed his. Her forefinger hooked through his little finger for a second before Carl grasped her hand and held onto it. They walked around hand in hand for the rest of the day. The warm glow of contentment he felt from holding her small hand was wonderfully novel.

He had never had so many chances with a girl to catch a glimpse of her cleavage, or a flash of her bare leg as she climbed onto a ride, or to feel the softness of her body against him as they pressed through the jostling crowds. While he was holding her upper arm, the backs of his fingers were brushing against her left breast. She didn't try to move it away. Was it accidental? He looked at her to see if she was showing any kind of response but she continued to look steadfastly ahead.

Perhaps most unexpected of all was when they went into an attraction called the Crazy Cottage. Inside, there was a succession of passageways where the floor moved, a dark room where people were tickled with a feather duster, or had to walk through a tunnel consisting of large rotating tubes. At the exit, visitors came out onto a wide elevated walkway which required them to walk over a giant fan under a steel grill. It was like the Marilyn Monroe moment in The Seven Year Itch, preserved in that iconic photo where she stood on top of a subway vent which blew her flared white skirt up. As Carl turned to take Raelene's hand to help her down the stairs, the blast from the fan caught her skirt and blew it up above her waist. She was quick to use her other hand to hold it down but not before Carl had a brief glimpse of her snugly fitting pink briefs and her enticingly plump pudendum nestling in the vee where her shapely thighs met. No doubt the appreciative group of opportunistic males standing nearby were given an arousing reward for their perseverance. Carl knew immediately that the fleeting glimpse of her cushioned mound would inspire his nightly masturbation sessions for weeks to come.

As night drew on, they made their way to the show ring to watch the fireworks. After dark had descended, they were able to share a few torrid kisses. Every time their lips engaged, Carl felt his body tingling with excitement and the air igniting around them -- even before the fireworks began. He found himself drifting into an enchanted state, bewitched by her sweet fragrance. His mind filled with all the appealing images and tender touches of her young body that he'd experienced during the day. Once the fireworks were over, they had to make their way to the main gate so Raelene could be home in time to get enough sleep before going to work early in the morning.

Even though they saw each other most days, Raelene became less enthusiastic about him. She thought Carl was painfully shy and she did not have the confidence tell him what she wanted from him, let alone, to make the first move. She decided other guys would be more likely to push her boundaries and tantalise her desires.

So, without telling Carl, she began fooling around with a couple of other randy young men who lived near her. One day, at work, George took him to one side and told him that he'd seen Raelene with another guy at the cinema. He'd been sitting a few rows behind them. When the lights went out, they were all over each other. Carl felt as if he'd been struck a physical blow. At no stage did he feel he had any proprietorial rights over her, but he was upset that she had not told him. He had started to become very fond of her. The next time when they were alone at work, he told her he'd heard that she was seeing someone else. Looking a little sheepish, she admitted that she was. Without meeting him in the eye, she shrugged and said something about not wanting to get too serious at such an early stage in their relationship. After mulling over her reply, he told her that it seemed best to him that he should get out of her way and let her get on with it. So that was that.

A few weeks later Raelene did not turn up for work. George had seen her in the lunch room in deep conversation with the stall owner. She told George she'd been feeling a bit queasy and would need to take the afternoon off to see her doctor. Later that week the owner told the rest of the staff that she had decided to leave permanently. George heard that she was pregnant and the guy she'd been with in the cinema had agreed to marry her. So much for not wanting to get serious. She never came back and Carl never saw her again.

After Raelene left, Carl began mulling over his susceptibility to opportunistic voyeurism. Why did a glimpse of partially bare breast or other female attributes provoke such strong sexual urges in men? From the occasions when, with his friends, he'd seen a woman who had bared a daring amount of her body, it was pretty clear that they'd all felt what he felt -- instant arousal from seeing how much she had exposed, intense curiosity about what remained hidden and heightened arousal from speculating on what more they would see if she uncovered everything. For example, if a woman with large breasts and loose top and a plunging neckline was not wearing a bra, Carl could guarantee that his cock would stiffen of its own accord and that he could make a fairly accurate assessment of the size of her breasts.

But other features would retain their mystery. What about their perkiness? Would they be pert, drooped or saggy? Or their shape -- low domes, pointed tips, classic tear-drop, or an elongated torpedo shape? And what about her areolas - wide or narrow, smooth or textured, dilated or shrivelled? Then there was colour -- from delicate pink to rose pink, red, fawn, brown or black. Would her nipples be long or short? And how thick? How elastic? Would the tips be domed or flat? The permutations and combinations were endless. And endlessly fascinating. And highly provocative to the male libido. Then there was the whole issue of why men were far more aroused by female exhibitionism than women were by male exhibitionism. Whatever the evolutionary reason for that male reflexive response, all he knew was how much he relished being aroused by a woman exposing her sexual charms to him, be it deliberate or accidental.