High Wycombe
High Wycombe holds mixed emotions for me. I detest the town with a passion, but it’s where I had my first sexual experience of sorts, so all the old feelings and memories come flooding back whenever I pass through the town. The town itself is dirty, smelly and full of Jeremy Kyle guest types, and not even the recent introduction of a brand new shopping centre has done much to enhance the reputation of the town. Underage mothers, illegal immigrants and rowdy teenage boys mix in harmony and it truly is a horrible, depressing place to go and shop on a Saturday afternoon.

However, I still get that ‘butterflies-in-the-stomach’ feeling of nervousness and excitement thanks to seeing a naked girl in the bus station toilets. She was the first girl I ever got to see naked in the flesh, and was named Ebony; funnily enough, she was black (not that I have a problem with that – otherwise I wouldn’t have slept with her). I’d been to a Wycombe Wanderers game with my mates, and afterwards we walked to the dingy bus station so we could all get our designated rides home. I however, (unbeknown to me) was going to get rather a different ride that evening. Ebony was stood inside the bus station with 3 of her friends, sheltering from the rain and probably spitting on the floor. As my mates got onto their buses and disappeared to their homes, I was left alone waiting for my bus, feeling quite intimated at being surrounded by a group of girls. I sat patiently, head down, trying to keep myself to myself, but it was hard not to stare at Ebony. Whilst her friends were quite loud and brash, Ebony carried herself in a much more feminine manner. Not only that, she was stunning; like a young Naomi Campbell, minus the punching and violent outbursts. She had beautiful, big brown eyes, which provided the finishing touch to her perfect, pretty face. Although she was quite slender, I could tell she had an ample pair of love pillows, and looking at her got my teenage body quite excited.

After 10 minutes of being sat by myself, Ebony and her friends came over and made small talk. They weren’t the bitchy adolescent girls I’d imagined them to be, they were all very kind and asked what I’d been up to, where I lived etc. I mumbled my answers and felt myself getting red in the face, but I noticed Ebony smiling at me, which reassured me I wasn’t making a complete fool of myself. We chatted for a while when I realised my bus was due in 5 minutes. Needing a piss, I made my excuses and ventured to the toilets. Unsurprisingly, they were filthy; as I urinated into the metal trough, fag-ends floated down stream to the clogged up drain. I was shaking off, when I heard the door open behind me. Being young, I quickly put my cock away, expecting an older gentleman to come and stand next to me, and embarrass me with his bigger penis. I turned, felt a damp patch form on my cotton boxer shirts from where I hadn’t shaken enough, and there was Ebony.

Ebony smiled and pushed me into a cubical, switching the lock to ‘occupied’ behind her. I almost fell over, much was the haste that she led me into it, and I kept asking what she was up to. My rigid shaft stood to attention, but I was absolutely shitting myself. I hadn’t done anything like this before but Ebony seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She stripped naked, her labia was so smooth and delicate and reminded me of a Labrador’s mouth; dark and shiny but with a thin pink trim. As she released my rod from its lair, the pungent smell of urine filled the air, and a couple of droplets dribbled out of my foreskin.

“I…I didn’t shake properly”, I stammered.

With that, Ebony punched me square on the nose, and followed it up with a slap to the back of my head. It stung me, and I was in complete shock. Then, she bent over, (I noticed her arsehole widen slightly as she did so), took my wallet from my jeans, picked up her clothes and left me. I sat in tears for a good quarter of an hour, on the toilet, head in hands. I finally plucked up the courage to put my clothes on, and examined the damage in the mirror. It was nothing too bad, a slightly bleeding nose – it was my mascualinity and pride that had been hurt the most. To make matters worse, I had to scrounge 20p off an old woman so that I could ring my mum so she could come and collect me.

High Wycombe – do not go there
(Monkey the Chicken Twitter: death_stairs, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 14:47, 4 replies)

I was born there
fortuantely I got out before it had too much of a damaging effect on me
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 15:19, closed)

^This
I was born there, grew up in Beaconsfield, which is blessedly about 7 miles away.

Remember the Octagon centre fondly tho, and Quasar. But most of High Wycombe was hideous when I last visited (about 12 years ago)
( The Baroness The Harlot Pimpernel, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:24, closed)

I spent my early years in Hughenden Valley
until the age of about 9.

I have recently been informed that this area is regarded as people regard the Welsh valleys...
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 19:45, closed)

I lived there for 8 years while I was a student
I still wonder why I stayed so long. Fucking awful place
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 22:09, closed)