Sunday 8 July 2018

Chronicle 27 - 1980: Nocturnal Activities





“I need a shit!” said C to me, the minute I woke up the next day. “Don’t get out of bed. I’ll need you in a minute. Your face looks awful!” She got out of bed and, despite everything, I enjoyed watching her naked body before she pulled on her slug suit and then her glasses. “Piss in the washbasin!” she said and left the room. I went over to the washbasin to look at myself in the mirror. The chip on my tooth didn’t look as big as it felt but my top lip was a quite swollen and the whole area ached. I wasn’t going to go in the washbasin. I put on my dressing gown and went to the bathroom on the floor below. When I got back C hadn't yet reappeared. I shook the kettle and there was enough water to boil it. I flicked the switch. It was early, just before seven, but too late to go back to bed. I thought about C and my fuck last night, as a fuck it very much was. Her on top, bouncing away. Using me. Until our teeth clashed. I tugged at my front teeth and was sure they were a bit loose. Maybe I shouldn’t wait to see a dentist at home. Maybe I should try and find one in Oxford. Eventually, C returned. 

“Tea?” I asked. 

“Later!” she stripped, pulled the duvet of my bed and fell, lazily onto the matress; lying on her back.  I thought maybe she had put on some weight over the holiday.  She looked good with it, anyway.  It had gone on her bust and bottom but not around her waist.  Well maybe there was a bit more on her belly.  She did absolutely no exercise apart from walking to and from the library.  I was doing the Canadian Airforce Exercises most mornings and at the weekend I tried to have a long, fast walk somewhere for an hour or so.  I was not tempted to go running however, despite A's example.  That would have been weird.

"You look fantastic!" I said.

“Course I do! Make me come!” she ordered. She started to stroke her pussy.and I got erect. She grinned, teasing me, and let her thighs fall apart.. "Do something different!” I had a thought, pulled off my dressing gown and rolled her over onto her tummy, eliciting a gratifying squeal.

I pushed her thighs apart and started kissing and licking her bottom. I jammed my face into her pussy and licked away at her for a bit. Then I licked her anus and she almost purred. I didn’t spend long, as I could sense that she was in the mood for a quickie. I wriggled forward and put my cock head at her vagina entrance. 

“Oh yes!” she said. I shoved myself up her as hard as I could. She was sopping wet. I started to pound her, my hips slapping on her bottom. I pulled out, briefly. “On all fours!” I said, putting my hands under her hips and pulling her upwards.  She looked around and grinned at me. K had told me that she had always wanted me to take her from behind, so now I was. I knelt up behind her and penetrated her again. I started to rub her sphincter and then pushed my finger into her slimy, warm rectum. “Mm! Mm!” she said. as I carried on banging and fingering her. I stuck another finger up her arse. She was pushing her bottom back against me. I pulled out of her again. “Don’t stop!” she gasped. I placed my cock head at her anus. “Oh YES!” she said. I pushed myself into her rectum. It was completely different from my experience with A. There was no appreciable tightness at all. I just slid right in and resumed my thrusting, holding onto her hips. She was breathing hard now and I knew she was close to coming. I concentrated, as I was just seconds away myself, watching myself penetrate her arsehole. I started to come inside her but kept going. Fortunately, she wasn’t far behind. I knew her sexual rhythm so well now that I could predict her orgasm to the minute. We both stopped moving and I pulled out of her and reached for a tissue. I didn’t want any of my spunk to dribble down into her vaginal entrance. She asked what I was doing, so I told her. “It’ll be fine. Stop fussing about like an old woman. You are worse than fucking K!” She rolled over onto her back and I knelt between her legs. looking down at her.. Her skin was pink, she was perspiring and strands of her hair around her forehead looked damp. “That was superb! Fucked up the arse! Terrific!” She stroked my hip with the side of her calf. "Clever boy!" She then pulled her knees right back to her shoulders and evacuated my spunk from her arsehole onto my sheet. Thanks a lot, I thought.

She said she was going back to her room to have a shower and get changed and said she would be back for toast and ginger marmalade in half an hour. She left, giving me another kiss. I was a bit disappointed as I had hoped we might have a shower together. A had really got me into the habit of sharing a shower. I went and had one myself before getting dressed. I wiped my sheet with some tissue but decided I would have to put it in the wash. She reappeared about forty minutes later and I put some toast on and made her some leaf tea in the teapot. She mused on what our tutors would have thought of us committing ‘an unnatural act’. She said they would report me to the Law Society and disbar me before I had even qualified. I asked why and she told me that buggery was illegal. I said I thought it had been legalised some years before and she said that was only for homosexuals. I was surprised. Needless to say she later looked it up and was quite right. Technically, it was punishable by life imprisonment. She said I had to do anything she wanted now or she could report me. She gave me a gleeful look and then said I was a poor baby and kissed me on the cheek. 

We went off to the library for a lecture and as we sat listening to the lecture she wrote me a note. ‘I can still feel you in my bottom. Good boy! xx’ That evening we went to the Oxford University Law Society to hear a talk from two of the Law Lords. C had dressed herself up and put on full makeup and, as a result, one of the male organisers, who was obviously taken with her, introduced her and me to Lord Diplock and Lord Roskill. It was a bit intimidating to meet the men whose judgements in cases we read every day. One thing we did learn, talking to some other lawyers there, was that the law schools released their places in batches, so we might still get places at our chosen colleges, as most weren’t allocated until the beginning of the following year. C started flirting with the organiser, so any hopes of renewed passion were dashed and, in the end, I left her to it. I thought she might turn up later but gave up at midnight and went to bed, happily thinking about her nice, slimy arsehole.

The following evening, in complete contrast to meeting the Law Lord, we went to see the film of The Secret Policeman’s Ball at the Penultimate Picture Palace, a funny little cinema in an unfashionable part of East Oxford over Magdalen Bridge. Even C found it funny and we walked back together, happily, afterwards, arm in arm but she announced she was tired and sloped off to bed. I didn’t even get a kiss, despite paying for her cinema ticket.  She was so unpredictable.

The following morning I got a letter from M in Cambridge. It said that she had had ‘a very special and precious experience’ with me and wondered if she could come to Oxford in the next few weeks. I wrote back immediately and suggested some possible dates. I met C in the law library and she said she was going to dinner with her friend R, the lovely blonde I had met the year before. This was the girl C claimed she had had lesbian sex with over the holiday. She had said, in a letter, that she was going to give me all the details but she didn’t, needless to say. They had been at school together and C had had a crush on her for ages which led to some sapphic fumbling during a Duke of Edinburgh Award camping trip at school. I remembered R as a tall, busty, athletic looking blonde, although C had said she had had her long hair cut over the holiday. H’s sister J had done the same, as I discovered when I met her in Cambridge. It was not a fashion I approved of, although having seen the performance C had to go through to wash her hair I could sort of understand it. 

Given C was off with R, K and I went to Hall together but found that we couldn’t get in due to the number of freshers there. This was the first time we hadn’t been able to get into dinner. We went to Sweeney Todd for pizza instead. K, who always knew what was going on in College said the Norrington Tables, which ranked each college by academic performance based on the previous year’s finals, had just been published and we had come 27th out of 28. The Principal was furious, apparently, and had ordered all the academic staff to crack down, which meant extra collections that term. K had already had a collection at the beginning of term and didn’t fancy another one. 

K said that C had told her that we had had sex again and wondered whether that meant we were a couple again. I said I wasn’t sure that we were ever a couple. I started to say that when C wanted any sexual pleasure she would… K interrupted and said she didn’t want any ‘icky details’, so I changed the subject. I asked K back for tea after dinner but she said that would be a bad idea if C didn’t know. I thought that was a shame as I quite fancied a cuddle with K

I poured myself a glass of Vermouth with ice from my new ice tray and thought about what I nearly said to K. It was almost as if C was using me as some sort of sex aid. I had just become a cock and a tongue. Should I enjoy what I got or put a stop to it? The next day there was no sign of C. She had missed the lecture in the morning and she didn’t seem to be in either the main or the college law libraries. I wondered if she was ill. I went up to her room. K hadn’t seen her either. 

That evening I poured myself another vermouth. Unlike wine where you had to open a bottle or half bottle you could just have a glass. I went back to the kitchen to refill the ice tray and ran into L, the American. I asked her if she wanted a vermouth. She said we could do better than that as she had a bottle of vodka. She made Vodka Martinis in her glass water jug and stirred it with a chopstick. We poured them into two of my wine glasses and sat on the floor of my room drinking them and listening to AndrĂ© Previn’s great George Gershwin record of Rhapsody in Blue, an American in Paris and the Piano Concerto. She said we might have to make Martinis every Friday and she would buy some glasses. I said I would get a shaker. She always stirred her Martinis but my father had always shaken his. We agreed that whoever was hosting the Martini drinking had choice of mixing method. 

She asked me how my relationship was going with C and I said I didn’t think it was a relationship, she just came to me for random sex acts. I told her about M, the girl from Cambridge and how I hoped she would be coming to Oxford soon. L said I had better have sorted out where I was with C before then. 

On Saturday there was still no sign of C. I looked everywhere. No one had seen her. I did some notes in the College law library and went to the lodge to check my post and ran into H next to the pigeonholes.  She was looking really cute and had her hair in two long pigtails. 

“I hear you and C are back together!” she said. I didn’t think L would have said anything. Anyway, she didn’t know H. K I wasn't so sure about. She and H were close and it was just like her to shop  me if she thought I was behaving inappropriately, by her high moral standards. Maybe out of some misplaced moral sensibility. I said we weren’t. “Not what I have heard! I slept with you because I thought you had broken up with her! I’m not going to be your bloody bit on the side you…you…shit!” she said and stalked off before I could say anything more. I looked around to see the porter looking at me from out of the window of his office in the lodge. He grinned and winked. That would be all around the staff by the end of the weekend. I sighed. 

When I got back to my room there was a note on my door from C. ‘Lunch today? You’re buying!” typical, I thought. I wondered if she might want me to perform some sex act for her that afternoon. Even the thought cheered me up a bit while I cursed myself at the same time for being so weak. Effectively, I realised, C had torpedoed my chances with H and I knew who I would rather have been with. Perhaps, if M worked out, I might have a proper girlfriend, albeit one in Fenbog. 

I went up to see C and see what she wanted for lunch. She insisted I take her to the Turl Bar, as she fancied chips, which was something they did do very well. We liked it because you never saw any other students in there, only tourists. After she had sat down with a plate of lasagne and chips she looked at me, in her short sighted way, as she was giving her contact lenses a rest for the day. 

“I’m in love!” she announced, dramatically. Yes, with yourself, I thought, cruelly. 

“Not the creep from Magdalen!” I said, realising that was where she must have been the last few days. I actually had now come to realise that I wouldn’t mind that much if she got another man, as I had shown myself quite capable of attracting other women. Just not him. 

“He’s not a creep. No, it’s R, of course. We have been having a wonderful period of softness and sensuality together. I have been sleeping with her in her bed and we have been kissing, caressing and making love.” It didn’t surprise me at all. 

“Sounds lovely!” I said. She looked slightly annoyed, as if she expected me to be shocked or appalled. I was just enormously relieved that it wasn’t the creep from Magdalen. 

“Well, yes. It is!” she jabbed at her lasagne and frowned. “I bet you want to hear all about it? What we do to each other!” 

“Maybe you should check with her first. She may want things kept private!” I said. 

“Why should we have to keep our love secret?” she said. “There are lots of girls in relationships with each other at Oxford.” She mentioned the college lesbians and I pointed out that the very fact they were known as the college lesbians showed that they had already been dropped into a category of slightly weird people. “It’s not just about sex, it is about the flowering of your own personality through the love of another. There was a long ramble about ‘awakening’, ‘fulfilment’, ‘bliss’ and such like. And licking, I thought. You just like having your pussy licked. I stood up to get some mustard from the bar. “Don’t fucking walk off when I am talking to you!” C hissed when I got back. 

 “I’m glad you are happy. It will help your work if you are happy!” She frowned and then smiled. Her work was what really counted for her. 

“Yes exactly!” she leaned forward and gave me a garlicky kiss. She said she still found me sexually attractive but we had stopped making each other happy and that was what she needed. 

“Indeed so!” I said. “It’s all good!” 

“It is!” She smiled and was friendly and a bit flirty for the rest of lunch, even asking if my tooth and lip was fine now. We went back to my room so as not to pay the rip off price for tea in the Turl. She announced that she was going to be sleeping at R’s for the forseeable future. I said I hoped she had a bigger bed than we did as R was a big girl. She said it was more like the one I had in the first year. An image of the two of them in the sixty-nine position came into my head. Splendid, I thought. R was a sexy girl indeed. I wondered what she saw in C

C said their Staircase was having party on Thursday. I hoped she didn’t want me to go. I had been with her to the Engineers’ party that term which was so unmemorable that I have no notes on it or recollection of it whatsoever. I said that Thursday night was an odd night for a party. All parties had to be approved by the Junior Dean, who was the unpleasant law tutor and, it seemed there was another party on the Friday so he had made them have it on Thursday. 

Anyway, C eventually got around to why she was being so nice to me. She had invited R for dinner on Thursday and the next day they were going back to Birmingham for the weekend. She couldn’t invite R for a nice quiet romantic dinner with a Staircase party going on. I asked her about Wednesday and she said that both she and R had tutorials on Thursday. What she wanted was to borrow my room and use my kitchen for her dinner. I could have college dinner and go and see one of my friends, I thought, so I agreed. She told me to make sure that there was clean bed linen too. Then she said that she was going to cook the dinner she had done for me earlier that week, except with chicken not pork, so she would need some of my vermouth. The demands kept coming; to make sure that my candles were not burnt to a stub, to clear my desk, have my room tidy etc, etc. I agreed to everything, of course, and wondered if R and C would have sex in my bed. Something to tell A in my next letter, at least. 

Thinking of letters, I thought that if C was going to be away the following weekend that would be the perfect time for M to visit from Cambridge. After C had left I dashed off a letter and went to the main Post Office down near Pembroke College, to just catch the last post, so she should get it on Monday, hopefully. 

The following week was very intense and the increased academic pressure was apparent as we were told we would be getting two collections in the last week of term. On the way to lectures on Thursday C reminded me that it was her dinner with R that evening, which I had completely forgotten about. I left the library early and as I had to do my washing anyway, bunged in the bed linen and put clean ones on. It was all done by the time I had finished my tutorial and I put everything into the dryer. C arrived to inspect everything and after sniffing the bed told me off for not ironing the sheets. I left her to it and went along to Hall early, so as to get in. I ran into D a South African graduate lawyer and we had dinner together, surrounded by squeaking freshers; the men all in jackets, which wasn’t done for informal Hall. I explained that I was homeless for the evening and D invited me back to his rooms. He had two, including a large sitting room. He opened a bottle of South African red wine and was surprised that I had had it before, as Uncle L’s daughter was an air hostess for South African Airways and brought it home regularly. You couldn’t buy it in the shops at the time, although, coincidentally, there was one shop that imported it in Staines. D said he was having a party later in the term and he would invite C and I to it. 

There were concerns from some of the more politically active people in college about having a South African studying there and he was the first South African I had met but he was a very nice, amusing chap and in interacting with the one black person in College he was always friendly and pleasant, so we decided that he must be the mythical nice South African. He assumed that C and I were still a couple and, after another glass or two of wine did ask me if we had really been caught in flagrante, in the laundry. He used the legal term, of course. I said that was true although C and my relationship was rather more complex now. He asked if I would prefer if I didn’t invite her but I said he should go ahead as we were still friendly, hence me letting her use my room to entertain her old schoolfriend. I deliberately didn’t say ‘girlfriend’. 

After we had drank the whole bottle of wine I left D’s room at about 10.30 and walked back to the annexe. It had turned cold and I hadn’t taken a jacket so I was glad to get back. The music was still pounding from C’s staircase, as I told her when I got back to my room. Dinner had all been cleared away and the room was lit by just one candle. My Vivaldi tape was playing quietly in the background. R who was wearing a white dress with a plunging neckline, which made the best of her impressive bust, gave me a hug and a kiss on the lips. I thought that C would be cross but she gave me a big kiss too. I saw two nearly empty bottles of wine on my desk, which had been dragged into the centre of the room, so assumed that they were both pretty relaxed. I sat in my armchair and R poured me the rest of the bottle of red wine and gave it to me. She expressed concern at my broken tooth and I admired her short hair cut. It wasn’t that bad, actually, as her hair was thick and wavy and she now had a nice mop of blonde hair which just reached to the base of her neck. R sat on my bed, and C snuggled in between her thighs. R put her arms around C. They did look happy together. The bedcover was still on I noticed, a bit disappointed. I had fantasised about going to sleep in a bed still warm from the bodies of two lovely girls. C said that they would go back to her room for a cuddle and I told her they would need earplugs as the party was still in full swing. 


“We can’t stay here all night!” said R to C. “You can come back to my room.” C wasn’t keen, saying she was all warm and affectionate now and didn’t want to go out walking in the cold for ten minutes. I told them that it was now really cold out. C suggested that I go out for a walk for forty minutes but R said that wasn’t fair. Too right, I thought. I didn’t volunteer. 

“I’ve got an idea!” said C and ordered me out of the room ‘for a minute’ I popped into the kitchen to see if one of the girls was there but the kitchen was empty. I looked out of the window at C’s staircase but the music was still going and all the lights were on. I wondered where K was. Maybe she was actually attending. Technically, parties at College had to finish by midnight but that was still over an hour away. 

When I returned to my room, C and R were standing facing the door with their arms around each other’s waists. C told me to sit in my armchair and not move or speak until I was told I could. She blew out the candle and the room was plunged into darkness. The blind was closed and the only illumination was a thin sliver of light at the bottom of my door, to my left, as I sat in the chair. Having come from the bright kitchen I couldn’t see anything at all. The room was silent; they had switched the music off, until I heard the distinctive sound of a zip being undone. There was a series of rustling noises and I realised that they were undressing in front of me. I strained to see but couldn’t. I heard them climb into bed. They must have taken my bed cover off, so were now under my duvet in their underwear or perhaps even naked. The first kiss rang out in the room, hitting me like an electric shock. Was this really happening? I heard a second kiss. Slowly more followed. The duvet rustled as bodies shifted beneath it. A little sigh and then more kissing. Before long it was apparent that a full on snogging session was in progress. Someone made a little ‘mm’ sound. I couldn’t tell who. Gradually, as I sat there, the two girls became more active and were making more noise. It was as if, at the start, they were both very aware of me sitting in the room, just six feet from the foot of the bed. Now, however, as their engagement with each other became more passionate then, perhaps, I was forgotten. At the same time, my eyes were becoming more attuned to the low light in the room. When C had initially blown out the candle it was almost pitch black, apart from the light at the bottom of the door. Now, however, when I looked at the bed in front and just to the left of where I sat, I realised that I could see the white hump of my double duvet, draped over the two, now moving figures. I couldn’t see anyone’s head so I had no idea who was where but it seemed to me that one figure was on top of the other. The kissing had stopped and now there was just gentle rustling as if hands were stroking skin beneath the cotton covers. “Umm!” said C, quietly but quietly. I leant forward to get my head even a few inches closer, my erection throbbing in my jeans. There was a shift of bodies under the duvet and I heard a wet lapping noise and soft breathing. I slid my hand over the bulge in my denims. I desperately wanted to get my cock out and rub it but didn’t dare; not least because I didn’t want to upset R. Suddenly, there was a movement and I could just see the white hump of the duvet thrown back, revealing a white shape which must have been R’s naked back, from the size of it. Her pale hair glowed in the limited light. The shape dropped and I heard the wet lapping again. I could now just about see C’s knees either side of R’s body. R was licking C’s pussy. This was another level above the kissing and caressing that C had done with S at the New College party the previous year. In that case they had both remained clothed but now both girls were, as far as I could tell, completely naked. R was making little vocalisations as she licked away. 

“Mmpl. Mmm. Mmpl” she breathed. I could imagine the musky, creamy taste of C running over her tongue, the hard little bud, the soft, fleshy labia, the feel of her orange fluff on R’s nose. 

“Fuck me!” said C, softly. I could see R move her shoulder and I imagined her slipping a finger up inside C’s juicy cunt. After a while R seemed to move up and resume kissing C but I could still hear her finger or fingers thrusting in and out of C’s wetness. C’s breaths were becoming increasingly ragged as I could now see R’s elbow clearly moving as she finger fucked the redhead. I couldn’t work out how long it took R to bring C to orgasm. My sense of reality and time had been lost in a sensual miasma of sound that permeated the whole room. It could have been a minute or it could have been five but eventually C let out a long ‘aaah!’ All movement stopped and all there was was the sound of intermittent kissing. “On your back!” ordered C, after a while. I watched as they swapped places, so that R was underneath. C looked over her shoulder, right at me and I could imagine but not quite see her smile in the dark. Was she laughing at me? Taunting me? Or was it something more complicit? The presentation of an enjoyable performance? A reward? C kicked the duvet completely off the bed and got between R’s thighs and the lapping sound started again. R was more mobile than C, writhing around and kicking her legs. C concentrated on R just as I used to concentrate on her; licking away steadily; not breaking for kisses on the mouth or other places. C had her bottom in the air and she was rotating her hips as she serviced R. At one point she appeared to put her hand between her legs and stroke herself. 

“Ooooh!” murmured R, after a while. C wriggled up R's body and lay on top of her. There were a few kisses and then nothing. No sound. No movement. Just two immobile pale shapes in my bed. I had thought that watching C bring herself to orgasm earlier in the term was the most erotic thing I had witnessed to that point but this murky coupling, which was more about sound than vision, had topped it. I sat there, still painfully erect and then started to worry about what would happen if they both fell asleep. I’d be stuck in my own room with nowhere to lie down. I thought of A’s lilo in the cupboard. No chance of inflating that quietly. I didn’t move. C sat up, astride R’s waist. She turned her head to look at me and I sensed her grinning again. 

“Go and see if the party noise has stopped!” she said to me. “While we get dressed.” It seemed like a reasonable request. I stood up and left the room, deliberately not looking at the bed as the open door flooded it with light. I was still erect, my mind full of the glimpses of white flesh and the sounds of passion I had just experienced. I got to the ground floor, left my staircase and headed left towards the house where C’s room was. There were still a lot of lights on but the booming noise had finished. Maybe someone had complained. The idea of a staircase party was to invite everyone so no one did that but in the annexe there were so many staircases close together that you couldn’t invite everyone. There was always someone who had a tutorial the next day. I walked over to the door and let myself in with my key, as we had a key which would open all the annexe staircase doors. I went up to C’s floor. It was quiet. There was some conversation from the floor above. I looked up the stairway and saw the two college lesbians sat at the top, snogging. I smiled. They were what would today be called Goth chicks; always dressed in black with dyed black hair. When I returned to my room, R was dressed but C was standing in her laciest lingerie holding her dress; no doubt having waited for my return just to tease me. I told them what I had seen, including the snogging lesbians. C was excited and wanted to take R over there straight away but R said she needed to get back to college. C frowned and looked annoyed in that way she did when people didn’t do what she wanted. I looked at my watch; it was now quite late. I said I could walk R back. C said that would not be necessary but R said it would be nice. She was a tall, attractive blonde and got hassle sometimes, late at night. I grabbed my coat and we all trooped down the stairs together. C to my surprise, did not see R off at the gate to the annexe but said goodbye at the door to my staircase. She gave R a wet kiss, at which R looked a bit uncomfortable. R reminded her she would be round at midday tomorrow to pick up C on the way to catch the bus back to Birmingham for the weekend. C waved dismissively and stalked off to her staircase, swinging her bottom, provocatively. 

I took R out the main annexe entrance, not the one past the Union which led onto Cornmarket, which could be a bit boisterous late at night. We went along George Street and into Broad Street to head towards Parks Road where Keble was. It was about three quarters of a mile altogether. We walked in silence, until we passed the end of Cornmarket. 

“I don’t really know what to say,” said R. “I’m very embarrassed. I’ve never done anything like that before! Been such an exhibitionist.” I said that I wasn’t surprised and C made people do things they wouldn’t have imagined before they met her. I recalled C making me piss in the street outside New College and trying to get me to fuck her in the street. I said that I had enjoyed it and felt very honoured that they would share something so intimate with me. She admitted that it was more exciting knowing I was there. I asked her how long she had known C and she said since they were eleven. 

“Has she changed?” I asked. “Personality wise, that is.” R gave out a short laugh and said she had changed a lot over the last year. She thought she was very depressed. 

“You seem to have helped for a bit but now...since you went off with the girl with the big...” She stopped and laughed, looking down at her chest, now concealed under her smart beige raincoat. 

“It wasn’t quite like that,” I said. “I was reacting to C going off with the creep…” I stopped. It sounded a bit mean and petty, like school children accusing each other in the playground, although I had been unbelievably hurt and upset at the time. 

“I thought as much,” she said. We turned into Parks Road and walked on in silence for a while. “I’m not a lesbian. It’s just C wants… I don’t know. Shit!” 

C wants unconditional love and worship entirely on her terms!” I said. 

“You do know her well,” she laughed. We reached the main gate of Keble, looming, as ever, in its red-brick awfulness, like a horrible, American effort at English stately home grandeur; an ugly pastiche that didn’t look quite right; like those fibreglass replicas of cars from the thirties, so popular at the time with Hollywood stars. “Come in for a drink,” she said. I said it was fine and I better get back. “It wasn’t really a request. An instruction!” She laughed. An odd barking laugh, like a feminine version of the actor Kenneth More. “I’m telling you not asking! Being like C!” 

“I’m not sure,” I said. C would have a nutty. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t eat you. Not tonight, anyway! Eaten pussy instead!” she gave me such a naughty smile that I gave in and followed her into the brick pile. We walked down the side of the main quad next to the chapel and up to her room. Inside I recognised some of her things from when I had visited her room with C in the first year, which was the only other time I had met her. Her desk lamp in an old chianti bottle, which had a red shade. A Welsh flag (she didn’t sound Welsh). A golf club, propped up in the corner. A large teddy bear with an eye missing. This wasn’t the same room and, unlike mine for the second year, was rather bigger. It looked over the main quad and the chapel. There were several prints of Degas and Renoir nudes on the wall. I looked at them. “I know, I know!” she said, laughing again. “C bought them for me.” She put the cosy Chianti bottle light on, switched off her overhead light and drew the curtains. “Romantic, eh?” she said. Please don’t get romantic, I thought. I watched her as she hung her raincoat up. Then, looking at her in her Hollywood style dress, I thought, please get romantic. She asked me to undo the zip at the back of her dress. I did. My heart pounding. “Could you see anything in your room?” she asked. “It was brighter than I expected once my eyes adjusted.” I admitted I could. 

“Just a vague outline. Shapes. You know.” I replied. 

“In that case!” she pushed her dress over her hips and revealed her lacy white lingerie. Nothing to hide!” I wasn’t surprised to see the stockings and suspender belt. I am sure C would have insisted. 

“I bet C made you get those!” I said as she carefully removed her stockings, after sitting on her bed. 

“True! Never would otherwise, She bought them for me.” she said. “She does love her lacy frou-frou!” She unclipped her suspender belt and dropped it into a small wicker basket next to her wardrobe. “That’s better! It’s bit tight, to be honest.” It had left a mark around her waist. She had a marvellously ripe body but it was different from the soft ripeness of H and her sister. Her long legs had powerful thighs, bellied with muscle at the back and with large quadriceps at the front. She was a rower, I knew. Her arms were similarly toned. She seemed to have something of a light tan, although it was difficult to be sure in the red light. She caught me looking at her. “What?” 

“You have a fantastic body!” I said, meaning it.

“My legs are too muscly!” I said they looked superbly athletic. She grinned. “Nice to know someone appreciates them. C thinks they are unfeminine.” Typical of C to tell her, I thought. I said that they were the best pair of legs I had ever seen and she said I was very sweet. She went to the drawer of her chest and pulled out a grey Royal Shakespeare Company sweatshirt which she pulled on, covering her chest, disappointingly. She didn’t put anything over the knickers and said she would let me carry on appreciating her legs but pulled on a pair of pink ankle socks. She went over to a small cupboard on the far side of the room, next to her desk. “Drink?” she asked. 

“Tea would be nice!” I answered. 

“I was thinking of Calvados!” she held up a bottle of the French apple brandy. My father loved Calvados and had introduced me to it when I was about ten. I remember going back for my final year of junior school after the summer holidays. The teacher, Mrs N, had asked some of us what we had done for the holidays. She asked me, as I rarely said anything in class. We went to France, I said. We always went to the same house near the Pyrenees. I think my father owned it with a friend of his. We used to take three days to drive down there from Dieppe, as my father sought out hotels with interesting restaurants. There was no question of children’s menus. My sister and I ate what he ate. Escargots (which my sister loved), grenouilles, riz de veau, cheval, cassoulet, rognons, calamari, tripes... Mrs N asked if I had had anything interesting to drink, which was different from what we got in England. ‘Calvados!’ I answered. ‘It’s made from apples!’ ‘Yes. Well. Let’s move on shall we?’ she had replied. 

“Calvados would be lovely!” I said. She started to peel off the capsule and I told her not to open it especially for me. She said she had been looking for an excuse to try it as it had been a present from her uncle. She poured a little into a couple of tumblers. She looked at them carefully and poured us both some more. She handed me the tumbler which was not a cheap one, like I had, but a crystal one. Heavy and comforting. I sniffed the Calvados. A good one. “Nice glasses,” I said. 

“That reminds me!” She got up and got her contact lens pots out. She took out her lenses and put on a pair of severe black glasses which made her look like a librarian. A librarian with an Olympic athlete’s legs. “Not the glamorous girl you were hoping for!” she said. 

“I wasn’t hoping for anything!” I said, taking my first appreciative sip of what really was a very good Calvados indeed. 

“Come and sit with me!” she said patting the bed next to me. No! No! No! I thought, already imagining C rapping on the door. I must have looked hesitant. “Come on, baby!” she said, sitting cross-legged and leaning against the wall. I crossed the room and sat next to her; fearing and hoping that she might pounce. She didn’t. I took a risk and took my shoes off. “That’s better!” she said. We sat and drank Calvados and talked about C. I found myself, inexplicably, defending her bad behaviour. I said her home situation was making her fed up and grumpy. She said that she had known C for eight years and she was always fed up and grumpy. We gradually relaxed and she teased out the details of C and my relationship. She wanted intimate details and I held back. She said that given I had just watched C make her come with her tongue, not talking about intimate details was a bit silly. She said she knew that I had taken C up the arse recently which she had told R she had loved. She had wanted to demonstrate on R using her fingers but R didn’t fancy that at all. She asked me if I wasn’t worried about what I might find ‘up there’ but I said I knew she had just been to the loo, which she thought was worse. She asked if C went to the loo in front of me. I said all the time and told her about the chamber pot. She said when C had stayed with her over the summer she had been cleaning her teeth and a naked C had just come into the bathroom, sat on the loo and 'spent a penny'. R had been completely shocked. I thought about telling her about A pissing on my leg but decided not to. She asked me if I was really good at oral sex and had taught C what to do. I told her that in the beginning I had no idea what to do. She didn’t believe that I had no previous experience. I must have blushed as she pointed at me and went ‘ah ha!’ 

“Maybe a bit of experience!” I admitted, thinking of the first time I had blindly dived into A’s pussy, on my orange carpet at home. She climbed off the bed and went to refill our glasses. 

“Shut your eyes!” she ordered. I did. I heard her take some clothes off and the drawer opened again. I was very tempted to peer through my eyelashes but didn’t. Anyway, today had taught me a lot about the erotic power of sound alone. “OK!” she said, after a while. I opened my eyes. She was wearing a white cotton vest, roughly cut off at just below waist level and a pair of soft, cotton black shorts. The vest was voluminous and I could catch glimpses of the sides of her breasts if she lifted her arms. Without a bra her breasts moved delightfully beneath the cotton. I found it a very erotic garment. 

“So cute!” I said. She gave me a twirl and flashed a slice of her waist. I noticed how the shorts clung to her bottom. “And the outfit!” I added. She laughed. She stood there looking at me. She picked up her drink from the desk and took a big swig. 

“Stay the night!” she said. 

C would literally kill me!” I replied, thinking of something K had once said to me. 

C doesn’t have to know. C doesn’t own us!” 

“But you’re her girlfriend! You’re going back to Birmingham tomorrow. She is staying with you!” 

“She’s sleeping with me. In my bed. Did she tell you what happened over the summer?” 

"Some of it,” I admitted. 

“I’m not a lesbian,” she repeated. “I like boys. Tall ones with muscle and stiff, veined cocks. Sorry. I’m being crude.” She came over and sat next to me, handing me my second Calvados. I glanced at her alarm clock. It was getting on for one AM. "It was C instigated the... well. You know. We had that incident during D of E camp, Just hormonal teenage girls experimenting. I almost forgot about it but C had obviously been thinking about it a lot. It never occurred to me that because we were sharing a bed when she came to stay that she would want to have sex. 

"But you didn't stop her?" 

"No. I know. You know what she is like. She made me come. That was a surprise. I did kind of enjoy it. I like orgasms!" 

"What about this evening?" I asked. There hadn't been any apparent reluctance on R's part. She shrugged. 

"Do you know what made it really exciting, tonight?" I shook my head slightly but I could guess. 

"Knowing you were there. Knowing we were getting you aroused." 

You certainly did that!" I said. She looked at my groin, briefly. 

"I'm going to have to have a difficult conversation with C this weekend. I don;t have time in my life for a lover. Especially such a demanding one." I wished her luck and suggested maybe she should save the discussion for the Christmas holidays. 

“I need to go!” I said. I had a vision of C bursting in to one of my tutorials and starting to rant about me having had her girlfriend. 

“You haven’t started your second Calvados. I can’t drink it and I can’t pour it back into the bottle. Be a waste!” She leaned forward and kissed me with her appley lips. Oh no! I thought. Oh yes! I thought. 

“I could sleep on the floor!” I mused. 

“Misses the point," she said. What point, I wondered? "In my bed. With me. If I was C. I’d blackmail you by threatening to tell her you kissed me!” I agreed that that sounded like exactly the sort of things she might do. “Maybe I am worried I am a lesbian and don’t want to be. Maybe I need some masculine reassurance!” Maybe you don’t need that second glass of Calvados, I thought. She put her long, tanned, bare legs over my lap and I focussed on not getting stiff. She carried on chatting about C at school and how C was convinced she was going to be elected school captain because of her academic achievements but R had got the nod because she was sporty and popular and C had never really forgiven her, despite her being her best friend. C couldn’t understand why people didn’t vote for her. She ended up fourth in the election. 

After a while R stood up and picked up my shoes. She said she was going to have a shower and was taking my shoes hostage so I couldn’t make a run for it. She went over to a door next to her wardrobe and opened it. I thought it was a disused doorway from the days when, perhaps, it had been part of a set of two rooms which used to be normal in Oxford, even as recently as the sixties. 

“My God! You have a bathroom!” I jumped off the bed. She had a bathroom with a loo, a washbasin and a small shower cubicle. Dobs had a bathroom in his room but he was at an ex-women’s college where they were a bit more pampered. 

“Lots of people at Keble have ensuite bathrooms!” she said. “Do you want to shower first or second. Not enough room for two! C and I tried it!” I stood, still mesmerised by the bathroom. “No dirty boys allowed in my bed! Only dirty girls!” 

C will kill us both!” I said. 

“I’ll go first. You can sit here and imagine it! Like you did earlier!” She shut the door but didn’t lock it. Was that an implied invitation? Should I casually step in? I decided that that would be crass. I went back and sat on the bed and drank my Calvados, thinking what an exciting night I was having. I heard the water running and her singing away, tunelessly. After about five minutes she came out, just dressed in a pink towel, holding the shorts and vest. The ends of her hair were wet, tickling the tops of her shoulders but it was not sodden. She must have a shower cap, like C. “Your turn!” she said gaily and headed back over to her glass of Clvados. As soon as I got inside the bathroom I suddenly realised I didn’t know what to do. I had nothing to change into other than the clothes I was wearing. I had never worked out the insouciant towel wrapping technique and, anyway, there was only a face towel left. I stripped off anyway and hopped into the very small shower. It had a plastic shower curtain. I closed it and started the shower. At least it didn’t have to warm up. After about thirty seconds I could tell the door had been opened. I looked over my shoulder and could see R’s shape through the curtain, leaning against the door. I could even tell she was holding her glass, so I assumed she could see me. There was some shampoo in the shower so I washed myself with that although I kept my back to her. Suddenly the shower curtain was whipped back. 

“Oh!” I said, brilliantly. 

“Time for bed!” she said. “Wear these!” she was dressed in her vest and shorts again and was holding another pair of soft shorts. These were grey. 

“I’m really not sure about this!” I said, reaching behind me for the shorts. I could feel her eyes on my back and bottom. “Are they…?”  
“They’re mine. I don’t keep random men’s clothes in my room on the off chance a man will come to stay.” She handed me her damp bath towel and I dried myself while she watched every move. I felt her eyes run up and down my body. Assessing it. She nodded. I hoped in approval. I didn’t make any attempt to cover myself, given she had pulled the shower curtain back herself. I pulled the shorts on. “They fit perfectly!” she said. 

“A bit tight!” I said. I was conscious that they were clinging to my genitals. 

“Exactly!” She laughed. She went over to the desk and switched her lamp off. “Come to bed. No sex. Just…” 

“A cuddle?” I asked, hopefully. 

“Just sleeping,” she said and yawned. 

“What if I get…” 

“Fine. I know men can’t help it. Just sleeping though!” 

“Back to back!” I suggested. 

“Solves it!” she said. She got into bed first. I gingerly got under the duvet and perched at the edge of her bed. At least it was bigger than mine. She was a big girl and there was no way of avoiding contact. I became erect almost immediately; more from the situation than any actual sensuality. Nothing happened, other than a tired sounding ‘good night’ and she fell asleep almost immediately. It was late and I wasn’t far behind, despite my erection. C, I thought again, will actually kill us. 

I woke early the next morning and could feel the effect of the Calvados in my head. I hadn’t gone to the loo last thing and was desperate. I slipped out into her bathroom for a piss and crept out again later, intending to pick up my clothes and flee. R turned over and looked at me. I had a sudden fear that the whole thing had been some sort of test, conceived by C. To what purpose, I wasn’t sure. 

“Sorry!” I said. I had wondered about not flushing but that would have looked bad. She wasn’t C, with her cavalier attitude to pissing.  
“Back to bed!” she said. I hopped in next to her. This time she spooned up behind me, in a much more intimate way and I felt her big cotton covered breasts pressing against my bare back. She put an arm around my waist. I looked at her alarm clock. It was about six thirty. I had no lectures and had done my tutorial. Just a day in the library beckoned. I started to get stiff but R seemed to have fallen asleep again. Eventually, there was a sound of gentle snoring. I grinned. C was going to kill us. Or just me, if it was all a plot. She would never believe nothing had happened. I must have dozed off again. We both woke about two hours later. “Hey,” she said. 

“Morning, loveliness!” I said. She put her head over my shoulder and kissed my cheek. 

“You behaved impeccably!” she said. “What a gentleman!” We wriggled around so that we were facing each other. I looked at her blonde eyelashes and eyebrows and those ice blue eyes. She told me that she had really needed me close last night. She expected to sleep with C the previous night until she saw the sizes of our beds in the annexe. “I can’t really explain! You’ve been so nice!” 

“We must do it again!” I joked. 

“Maybe,” she replied, not very encouragingly. She sat up. “Up you get before we do something we shouldn't!” I rolled out of bed and she climbed out of bed too. We stood looking at each other for a few seconds. She looked all warm and bed rumpled. I fought an incipient erection as there would be nowhere to hide it in those shorts. I also fought a strong desire to take her in my arms. I wondered if she might be thinking the same. I could sense that if I moved even two inches towards her we'd be pulling each other's clothes off. We stood and looked at each other. I could see her nipples were erect through the thin cotton of her vest. My cock twitched. I could see from her reaction that she had noticed. She smiled. My heart raced. Now! Step forward now, I said to myself. I didn't.   She turned away, looking flustered and grabbed some clothes from her drawers before going into the bathroom, this time bolting the door. I got dressed outside. I could here her having another shower. She came out dressed. She asked me what sport I did as I 'looked athletic'. I replied that I used to be a good 400m runner. Southern Counties level. A hand timed 53.1 on cinders at fourteen. She said I looked like a quarter miler. She said she wasn’t really built for running. She looked down at her chest. They looked nearly as big as H’s. She really was a blonde goddess. 

“I’ll buy you a bacon sandwich at the Queen’s Lane Coffee house!” I said. It wasn’t a C haunt. I’d taken J there, after our first night of passion. The lack of passion with R, it seemed to me, shouldn’t militate against a bacon sandwich. 

“With HP sauce?” she asked. 

“What a sound girl!” I replied. Over breakfast, she started to try to explain why she had wanted me with her the night before but struggled and I said she had no need to explain. If it made her feel better that was good enough for me. She leaned across the small table and kissed me on the lips. I said I did like a girl who tasted of HP sauce. I walked her back to her college. 

“Oh well. Better pack for my weekend of lesbian sex with C! Laciest underwear! See you soon!” The last comment put me in a good mood as I felt that C had deliberately kept me away from her the previous year. I walked back to the annexe, for a shower and a change of clothes, fantasising about what the gorgeous R’s body was like underneath her shorts and vest. Should I have surprised her in the shower? Maybe it would have been a mistake. Maybe she had intended to seduce me but had had a change of heart. Perhaps I should write to her and say I would like to draw her but that would be a bit obvious. It was up to her, I decided. It had been a nice experience, anyway. Totally unexpected, which made it all the more satisfactory. 

My bed was still rumpled from where R and C had left it.. After my shower, where I got nicely stiff, still thinking about the previous night’s unexpected activities. I went back to my room. I sniffed the sheet, hoping to smell musky female scents but there was nothing appreciable. I took off my dressing gown and hopped into bed for a play, remembering everything that had happened the previous night. There was a knock on the door. I jumped. I knew it was C. I kept still and silent. 

“I know you are in there. There are water drops running from the shower to your door! You never dry yourself properly! Open up or I’ll sthcream and sthcream and sthcream until I’m thick!” she said, echoing another monstrous redhead, in Richmal Crompoton’s William stories. I sighed and got up, still naked and still partially erect and opened the door. C pushed her way in. “Were you having a wank?” she said, squeezing my cock in greeting. “Thinking about me licking R’s pussy. About her juices soaking your sheet. Bet you don’t want to wash it now! Two gorgeous girls, licking each other in your lonely bed! Lucky, lucky boy!” 

“It was a lovely experience indeed!” I said. She started to remove her skirt, a thick reddish brown ankle length one. Underneath she had her thigh high cream woollen socks on, held up by a suspender belt. She was wearing her big cream jumper again. She pulled this off to reveal a cream silk blouse, which she started to unbutton. She kept her bra on but removed her knickers. She pulled the duvet off my bed and lay down on it with her legs spread. 

“Get to work! Let’s soak your sheet again! See how you compare to R!” I might have known that she would make it competitive. I didn’t know what she was up to but I knelt between her legs, my cock at full stiffness again and started to kiss the insides of her thighs. “No foreplay!” she said. “Get to it!” I slid my tongue between her fleshy petals. I went at her hard; mercilessly working on her stiff little clitoris and she bucked beneath me moaning and swearing. She came very quickly. I wriggled up her and kissed her, as I knew she liked to taste her own juices. “Terrific! Make sure you shave next time first. Girls are so much smoother! Now, I want tea and a biscuit!” I had been hoping to slide into her, as my cock nuzzled at her pussy when we kissed but she was obviously not in the mood for that. I stood up, my cock still at full elevation. “You can have a wank when I’ve gone!” she said, generously. She wiped her pussy with one of the tissues from my desk (‘your wank box’, she called it). She pulled her clothes on as I made the tea. Half way through her third custard cream (“get better biscuits this weekend”, she ordered) she asked me if I had kissed R goodnight after I took her back to her college. 

“She kissed me!” I said, flicking the switch on the kettle again. 

“Cunt!” she said. I grinned, triumphantly. She left and said she had to pack. “Have a nice wank!” she said. "Think about what R and I are going to do tonight!" She kissed me on the lips and said how delicious she was. I closed the door and heard her jumping down the stairs, three at a time again. I didn’t feel like it now and got dressed. M was supposed to be coming from Cambridge, this weekend, when C was in Birmingham, but she hadn’t confirmed. I suddenly realised that I hadn’t checked my pigeonhole for two days. In a panic, I raced over to College. It was Friday. I’d lost track. There was a greetings card from Cambridge. It was postmarked Tuesday. She would be arriving at the bus station just after midday, today. It was already well on the way to eleven. The first thing that occurred to me was that I better change the bed linen. The second thing was that I had better get some more biscuits. I raced back to the annexe via the Co-op and quickly changed all my bedding. Hoping that we would, indeed, end up in bed together. No guarantees though, I thought. At least I had A’s lilo. 

Tuesday 12 June 2018

Chronicle 26 - 1980: To Fenbog




I didn’t have time to feel fed up for very long, having left A at the station. I went back to my room via Saisnburys, as I really fancied a corned beef sandwich. I also needed some more milk and got some chocolate digestives, in case K came around. I had just got to the top of the stairs in the College Annex and there she was outside my door. C. Dressed in a dark blue wool skirt and wearing a thick cable knit cream jumper.

“Hullo!” she said, smiling. “Where the fuck have you been?” I told her I had been out and about as I had had a visitor from home. I added, as a non sequitur, that I was going to Cambridge the following weekend for a school friend’s birthday, hoping that this might distract her from the subject of the visiting friend. “Going to see Miss Big Tits?” I said no. She smirked. I asked her in, of course, and put the kettle on. When I went to get the milk she came with me into the kitchen to have a look at it and reckoned it was nicer than the one they had on her floor in the house across the way, as it had a window. I offered her a corned beef sandwich. “Why would anyone want a corned beef sandwich? Why would anyone want corned beef?” she asked. I explained that it was lunchtime but she said that she had already had lunch in College and had been looking for me. “What are you putting in it?” she asked, aghast. Piccallili, I said. “That’s revolting!” she said.

No sooner had we got back to my room, I had made her some tea and she had helped herself to four chocolate biscuits, then she started straight in talking about the contract essay. What did I think of that case? What about this? Most importantly had I submitted it? I said I hadn’t. I was going to drop it into the tutor’s pigeonhole in the Lodge before dinner. She said she had to read mine. She lay face down on my bed and set to, kicking one leg up and down, annoyingly. It was a long essay. I had spent a considerable amount of time on it over the summer holidays.

“Just don’t start picking holes in it. I’m not changing it all now!” I said. She nodded. I sat in my chair next to the wardrobe, looking at her bottom. If I had just taken C from behind the previous term would things have been different? An image of me penetrating A on that very same bed came into my mind. I got an erection, thinking about my cock in her tight arsehole.  Stretching that pink rim. Such an intimate and trusting thing to let me do to her.  I shifted in my chair to get more comfortable. C turned another page and put the read one on the floor. I got up and put the kettle on again.

“Do you want..”

“Shush!” she said. I shushed and made myself another mug of tea as quietly as I could. I had bought some cups and saucers up this year for special guests. I had given C a cup for her tea but she didn’t say anything. Eventually, she finished. She rolled over onto her back and then sat up. “Shit!” she said. I was annoyed as I thought it was quite a goo  essay, as I told her. “No. It’s not shit. ‘Shit’ it’s so good. Really good. Damn! Way better than mine!” She said she better go and think about her essay, now.  I said that she had until Tuesday to submit it. She then told me that she hadn’t been able to get into Guildford Law School as the course was full. So was London. She was on the waiting list for Chester. This sent me into a panic as I hadn’t even applied yet, as I had been told you didn’t have to worry about applying for your year at Law School until the end of the second year. I didn’t want to take a year off or go to somewhere ghastly like Reading Polytechnic or, worse, Newcastle, to do the course. Going to Guildford would mean I could commute from home and save a lot of money.

“Did you have a good break?” I asked her, as she put her shoes on again. I didn’t say holiday as I knew she hadn’t been away.

“No. It was shit. See you at five fifteen. Dr Who don’t forget! Pick me up!” She said she liked my posters, although said I needed more naked women and less spaceships. “Maybe naked women with spaceships!” She laughed. The first laugh or smile she had given me. “Bye! Can’t believe that I will have to trudge up all these stairs again when I want to see you!” She stood up and gave me a kiss on the lips, unexpectedly. Within seconds she was gone and I could hear her jumping down the stairs three at a time, as she did in my staircase the previous year. I took the milk back to the fridge in the kitchen. I looked out the window and just saw C going into her staircase. I was surprised by the kiss; surprised that she said that she wanted to see me again but unsurprised that she just talked about law. It all went as well as I could have hoped, at least. No screaming or tears, anyway. Maybe being back at Oxford really was better for her than being at home.

I picked her up later and took my essay to put in the tutor’s pigeonhole. We went to watch Dr Who, in the JCR, in the third part of an episode called Meglos. Lalla Ward, who had taken over the role of Romana, the Doctor’s companion, the previous year, was a favourite of C due to her eccentric dress sense in the series. C also liked the fact that the actress was having an affair with Tom Baker, who played Dr Who, and that he was over twenty years older than her. This usually got her going on her crush on her favourite tutor who was, not coincidentally, more than twenty years older than her as well. She said you could tell they were at it all the time, their screen chemistry was so good.

K was at dinner and twittered away in full Kiki the Frog mode. I looked around Hall to see if H was there but it was still mainly Freshers. We went back to the Annexe together. K, amazingly, had the room above C again. Despite having watched Dr Who, C wanted to look at her essay again so I went up to K’s room for tea. We chatted for half an hour.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” asked K, eventually.

“Tell you what?” I already knew.

“Tell me about the girl who was staying in your room and the passionate sounds coming from it?” I said it was just someone from home and she laughed and giggled a lot. K wouldn’t let me get away with that. She said there was a difference between laughing and moaning and swearing. Anyway, she said I had been seen with my arm around her. Was she a new girlfriend? I said that she was an old girlfriend. K then said she thought that C was my first girlfriend. I told her C was the first girl I had had sex with. I hoped talking about things like this might put K off but it didn’t. She questioned me relentlessly. I cursed R, from the room opposite. It must have been her talking to K. The most I would admit to was sharing a bed with A. “Well we all know what that means with you!” said K, triumphantly. “Another notch on the bedpost!” I told her I didn’t think about women like that and she said I really did. I didn’t want to be put in the same category as R, who K thought was the worst Lothario in College. Except, as far as I knew I had had sex with more women than he had at that point.   At least during college.  K wasn’t annoyed with me, just amused and only slightly appalled.

“I just need lots of cuddles and love,” I said. “It de-stresses me!”

“Alright then. Take your shoes off!” said K. I thought she was joking. She wasn’t. “Get on the bed. Let’s have a cuddle. Just a cuddle though!” she wagged her finger at me. I still thought she was joking but she wasn’t. She made me lay on the bed and then she lay on top of me. I put my arms around her and we carried on talking. She wriggled a bit and I tried very hard not to get stiff. I failed as she kept wriggling about and K must have known as she gave me a naughty look. “See you can’t resist!”

“I can’t resist you!” I said.

 “You can’t resist any woman!” insisted K.

“They have to be really attractive and ideally have a superb bottom!” I said stroking hers. She got up and told me it was time to go before things went too far. I told her I’d love to go too far with her and she said that was obvious, patting my crotch. She kissed me on the lips and said she would come over for tea the following afternoon with C, if she had finished her essay. K’s father had left her with a huge hamper from Fortnums and she said she would bring cake, biscuits and sherry.

I went back to my room and ran into R in the kitchen. I asked her if she had seen K but she said she hadn’t. R was not the sort of girl to lie and I believed her. But K’s network of informants in College was huge. I had a quick shower and really missed A soaping me up. I went back to my room and pulled the bed cover off. On my pillow were A’s pink knickers and a note. ‘Have a lovely wank tonight. I’ll be diddling myself! Such fun. All my love Axxx. P.S. Don’t forget my postcards.’ I sniffed them and then I got into bed and wrapped them around my erection. My mind was full of images of A but also as they had similar figures.  Holding K felt like holding A. I soon ejaculated into A’s knickers. I would do the washing the next day, wash them and send them back to her with a saucy note.

Sunday morning there was no college breakfast (and it had gone up to 60p for, basically a roll and butter) so I had toast and marmalade in my room. I was glad I had invested in a toaster over the holiday.  I went out to get the Sunday Times and in the newsagent they had October’s Playboy which featured the Girls of Canads so, thinking of W, I picked that up. I hadn’t bought a Playboy since the previous term.

I went over to College and found a note about our first tutorial meeting later that week This was great as I didn’t have any work to do until then, just a couple of lectures in the Law building. Back in the annexe I ran the wash and went back to my room to fill in my application to Guildford Law school. I had had the form for some months but they didn’t process anything over the summer, so I hadn’t bothered to send it. I had another corned beef sandwich for lunch. I wasn't expecting C, if she came at all, until tea time. I did wonder about H, though.She was also living in the annexe in the house next to K and C. After I had dried my clothes in the dryer downstairs, which was far superior to the one in the main college, I went back to my room, put my clothes away and then lay on my bed and had a look at Playboy. That month’s Playmate, Mardi Jacquet, was very much to my taste and there were some great shots of her in see through knickers, displaying her bits, unusually for Playboy at the time and pulling her knickers up between her legs. I unzipped myself and had a nice wank, looking at Mardi and thinking about A. They looked quite similar, I thought.

 Somewhat to my surprise, C did turn up with K at about four thirty. They had tea, posh biscuits, a fruit cake and a bottle of Sherry. K knocked on R’s door and I did the same with L and W and we had a lovely tea party in my room as C started to get to know, L, who she seemed to thoroughly approve of. L and W then left to go to see some of the other foreign freshers, K went back to her room with C, who wanted to just finish her essay and R had some revision to do for her collection. My room, having been filled with girls, suddenly seemed empty. C and K had eaten so much cake they didn’t want dinner and I wondered if I could face corned beef sandwiches again with the remainder of the corned beef, which was starting to dry out a bit. 

At about eight there was a knock on the door. I had just put some Mozart on the cassette player and was in a good mood. The big bust up with C hadn’t happened. K was still engagingly flirty and the new girls on my floor were very nice. K had left me the sherry and I had just poured myself a glass. I opened the door. It was H. I smiled at her.

“Hello!” I said, with somewhat Sherry induced bonhomie. “Would you like a glass of..”

“I had sex with my cousin!” she blurted. She looked at me in a sort of surprised way, as if she had been planning what to say all the way up the stairs and then what came out was completely different from what she had planned. I asked her to come in and she did. She sat in my armchair and looked around my room at all my posters. I poured her a glass of sherry which she took and then drank down in one go.

“It's lovely to see...” I began.

“Don’t! Don’t speak. Let me speak! Don’t interrupt!” I nodded. “Please. Sorry. It’s difficult!” When H got going she could be as runaway train like as K. I let her talk without interrupting, even though I really wanted to. I poured her some more sherry. She had been in Sweden for most of the summer. Up in the north where her grandmother lived. They had had a big family party for her grandmother’s seventieth birthday. Lots of her relations from all over the country and abroad had been there for a week. She had been in the sauna with more than half a dozen of her family, of all ages, including her cousin, who she hadn’t seen since he was ten. They were all naked and although this was normal for the family she became very aware of the cousin making little glances at her, which was not the thing, it seemed. Sauna culture etiquette seemed rather complex. You were all naked together but you couldn’t cover any part of yourself up or look at other people. She rambled on.  Her cousin was the only one ether close to her age, other than her sister who was still a bit frosty. He sort of attached himself to her; sitting next to her at meals and going for walks with her in the forest. She liked him, she decided.

A day or so later she and the cousin were out by the lake after dinner, late at night but it was still light, of course. He had started to clumsily try to kiss her and she had kissed him back. His hands had gone straight to her bust but she gently pushed him away. She said she could tell he had a raging erection but didn’t want to be rude so they lay there together for hours chatting. Eventually they went to bed, separately. The next night he suggested they go for a midnight swim. H, who had had a bit to drink at dinner agreed and eventually found herself stripping naked to go skinny dipping with him. He got shy about taking his trousers and pants off as he had an erection. She undid his fly and removed his last clothes. She launched into the lake. He joined her and they splashed around for a while. When they got out they lay shivering on the grass and she climbed on top of him to warm up, she said. It didn’t take long for her hand to find his cock, at which point he immediately ejaculated, to H’s amusement. He was distraught and apologetic and was worried that she would tell his parents. She didn’t, of course, and the next night they went skinny dipping again and this time she sucked him off, which also didn’t take very long. She then showed him how to lick her pussy but he was really nervous and ejaculated again half way through. This went on for a few days. She cycled into town and bought some condoms and eventually they had sex by the lake, although he came really quickly again but he was only fifteen, she said, which was quite legal in Sweden. She had turned nineteen over the holidays. They did it twice more ‘until we used up the condoms’ and then he went back to Gothenburg. “So. That’s it. I’ve been unfaithful to you and I feel slutty and horrible.”

“Would you like a hug?” I asked. This was not really the story I had imagined. I thought it would be all to do with her sister berating her about me and second thoughts about losing her virginity. She came over and sat down next to me on the bed but she seemed tense. I put my arm around her waist. She said that she hadn’t even thought about me when she was with her cousin and that made her feel worse. I asked her if she enjoyed it and she said no, then admitted maybe the last one a bit. “Well I bet he enjoyed it! What a lucky boy to have such a lovely girl in the grass by the lake.”

“Are you furious? I’ve let you down. I’ve let myself down,” she said. The first thing that came into my head, I am afraid, was that I felt a lot less guilty about A. I had assumed H and I had broken up. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“It all sounds quite fun and exciting!” I said. “Even the way you told it was exciting. Erotic. You in the grass teaching this boy about sex.  Telling him how to lick your pussy!”

“I had a good teacher!” she laughed but she was crying. I wished girls wouldn’t do that. “Sorry. Time of the month.” she said. I kissed the top of her head. It must be rubbish having periods, I thought, not for the first time. I was glad I was a man.

 “Do you want to stay over.” I said, pushing it. “It’s a small bed but if we lie on our sides...”

“Oh! Sorry can’t. My tampax are back in my room and I feel all gloopy. Anyway there is no way two people can sleep in this bed. I’m sure these small beds are deliberate. I miss last year’s bed.” She stood up, to my disappointment. “I have collections and I have to sort out my year abroad and it is a busy term, so do you mind if we don’t... I mean perhaps we can have a break until... Well. You know. It’s just. I can’t explain.” She was snivelling again.

“Whenever you need me for whatever it is. Tea. Chocolate biscuits. A cuddle. I’ll be here!” I said. She smiled and kissed m on the lips. I stroked her bottom. We remained in an embrace for ten or fifteen seconds.

“Thanks. You’re so... Well thanks!” She left. I shut my door. Bugger. At one point I thought she would leap into my arms and we would be all right again. Every time I thought I was beginning to understand women they did something I couldn’t fathom. I went to bed, too upset to masturbate.

I went to breakfast in college on Monday morning. I had got up early, had a play in the shower thinking about H’s tits and then had written to her sister, J, telling her that I would be in Cambridge that weekend. I didn’t expect J to reply but I had to try. I posted it on the way to Hall which was full of Freshers and hardly anyone I knew. That bit of extra distance between the Annexe and the main college really reduced the numbers of people from the second year going there for meals. There was a reading list for Tort in my pigeonhole but, amazingly, no requirement to do an essay that week. Our Contract tutorial would be the following Tuesday.  If I could get on with the reading I could easily go to Cambridge for my schoolfriend F’s birthday party at the weekend. I spent the day in the library pushing through the reading list. I went to Blackwells and bought a text book. I had lunch in College but there was no C or H.  K had a collection too. For once the lawyers had a slack week.

There was a ‘meet the new fresher lawyers’ drinks party that evening. I stopped at C’s late afternoon to see if she wanted to come. She did and we went along to the Stocker Room at about six, just before dinner. The freshers were a dismal bunch; pompous, unattractive and full of themselves.

“What a bunch of wankers!” said C as we went back to her room. “All the girls are dull and ugly and as for the men... Who on earth wears a tweed jacket? It’s not Christ Church!  They're dwarfs too!” To my surprise C had bought us dinner. A fish pie and oven chips which she cooked in their kitchen. She had even bought some Frascati. The fish pie was from Marks & Spencer, which was now quite close by. Neither of us were big fish eaters but it was quite nice. She was in a good mood as she had finished her essay and delivered it. She said she was going to have a quick shower and I should choose some tunes. She didn’t have nearly as many tapes as I did but she had a Bach excerpts one, so I put that on and finished my Frascati. She came back into her room (which was smaller than mine, I was surprised to see) wearing her white towelling bathrobe and her funny pink shower cap. I always teased her about it but she said it was better than getting wet hair. She pulled it off and brushed her hair a bit.

She sat on the bed and I was sat on her desk chair, watching her brush her hair; something I had always enjoyed.  She nattered on about the ghastly freshers and asked me to pass her body lotion, which was in a cardboard box (she hadn’t totally unpacked yet) on the floor by my feet. I handed it over to her and she pushed her bathrobe aside so she could rub lotion into her calves. I watched her do so and she grinned at me as she saw I was watching her. She pulled her bathrobe back more and revealed her thighs which she rubbed lotion into as well. She undid the tie of her bathrobe and pushed the sides of it right back, revealing her whole body, other than her arms. She smiled at me again and started to rub lotion into her tummy and hips. She pushed her body forward on the bed, so her bottom was right on the edge. She started to slowly rub lotion into her tits, Her pink nipples were erect. She cupped her bust with both hands. She slid her hands down her body and opened her thighs, revealing her orange pussy. She started to rub her hands on the tendons inserting into her groin. I sat there, entranced, as she started to stroke her labia with two fingers. I was sat about six feet from her. I was stiff as a pole but didn’t want to make a move on her and get rejected. There was a heart-stopping atmosphere in the room as she tickled her clitoris. Although I had been with C when she masturbated before, we had always been in bed with the covers over us, or it had been under her skirt or inside her knickers, like with A the previous week. I had never watched a girl frig herself in the open, so to speak. She inserted a finger into her cunt, smiling at me all the time and finger fucked herself for a while. Her left hand was caressing one breast, the pink teat sticking our between two fingers. She spread her legs even more and now started to rub her bud with two fingers in a circular motion. She was breathing hard now and giving out little ‘mmm’ vocalisations. I wondered if you could ejaculate at a sight alone. She was rubbing rapidly now and looking at me all the time. She closed her eyes and stopped moving. “Hunh!” she breathed. I stood up and squatted down in front of her, between her knees. I could smell her pussy.

“That was the most erotic thing I have ever seen!” I said. I was just starting to think that I would push her onto her back on the bed. The pupils of C’s eyes were huge. She looked completely aroused. I sensed she wouldn’t object. She touched my erection through my jeans. There was a knock at the door. We both jumped. I stood up and C retied her bath robe.

“Come in!” said C. “It’s open!” It was K, who had decided that more revision at this stage was not going to help for her collection the next day.

“What have you two been up to?” she asked. “You’re all pink!” she said to C. C laughed.

We haven’t been up to anything!” said C. “He is just going!” I left, in a complete daze. I went back to my room and got ready for bed as quickly as I could. I desperately needed a wank. I lay in bed, recalling every minute of the ten minutes it had taken her to bring herself to orgasm; the first time I had watched a girl do so. I worked on myself slowly, not going at it fast, in order to extend the enjoyment. Rather similar to the way I would look at a new men’s magazine, I supposed. Making it last. Up to the brink and then slow down. Lovely. Afterwards I wondered what had been going on in C’s mind. Was it a ‘look at what you are missing’ exhibition to demonstrate that she had moved on and didn’t need me. Was it. perhaps, a ‘come back I have made a mistake’ ploy? What if K hadn’t interrupted us and I had pushed C back on to the bed, rolled her onto her tummy and taken her from behind? In the next few days I thought of this a lot.  Next morning I wrote the episode up in the same exercise book as I had noted down my adventures with A.

I finished my reading by Wednesday. The first tutorial, with T, of Selfridges perfume girl fame, had been unremarkable and I was looking forward to my first trip to Cambridge. F had written and said he had got me a guest room, if I didn’t mind paying a small fee, so I wouldn’t need a sleeping bag. This was good as I didn’t actually have a sleeping bag. C didn’t seem to be about much and was in the main law library doing the tort reading list as she was behind, having had to do her holiday essay at the last minute. I spent some time with L and W and we tended to have tea together in each other’s rooms at about four, which they thought was a very English habit. L made some chocolate brownies, the first I had ever had and I said she should host a brownie tea party every week or so. I saw C, briefly in Cornmarket and she reported that the Freshers were getting into the College law library really early and bagging all the best seats. She gave me a goodbye kiss before going back to her room and I went on to the lodge to look at my post. There was a letter from Cambridge. Not from my friend either. I opened it. It was from J and was several pages long. I scanned it and then stuck it in my pocket to read later. The first paragraph was friendly and even flirty. Then there was a big chunk about her sister, which I didn’t read immediately. At the end of the letter she suggested meeting up on Friday in The Gardenia cafe. She gave a time and an address. I was surprised.

I went to Smiths and bought some postcards to send to A in Edinburgh. They had an A-Z of Cambridge there and I bought one so I could look up the street where the Gardenia Cafe was, find where my friend’s College was and where the bus station was. Except the latter didn't seem to be marked. I then went into Boots to get some more toothpaste. There was a man serving. I looked around, furtively, and bought a packet of three Durex, more out of hope than expectation. I scuttled out, feeling brave and excited. Next morning, I was on the boring bus ride to Cambridge. I had read J’s letter properly and it was quite fun and friendly. Even the part about her sister was conciliatory as, according to her, I hadn’t seem to have done H any psychological harm, she seemed to have really enjoyed herself with me and wasn’t upset. She then on to tell me about H’s fling with her cousin ‘as I’m sure you know by now’. Quite a big assumption that, I thought. H could have not told me. It occurred to me that it was a little dig to remind me that H had moved on. The night before I had had a long chat with the American girl, L, in her room. She was surprised at how friendly I still seemed to be with C, given we had broken up. I said I couldn’t work out C at all. She asked me to tell her all about it, which she probably regretted, as the whole story came out, including the recent masturbation episode. I surprised myself at revealing something quite so intimate to someone I had only just met but she was that sort of girl. She said that she had met girls like C before and they could be very draining on those around them.

“Not just your balls either!” she said, unexpectedly saucily. I liked her more and more.

 I started to get excited about meeting J again and fantasised that she would find me so irresistible that we would be in bed within the hour. The bus journey took getting on for four hours but I arrived at about two and walked the mile to my friend F’s College. Cambridge had many similarities to Oxford but enough differences to know you were in a different city. Perhaps the university buildings were a little younger looking. There seemed to be more eighteenth and seventeenth century buildings, not sixteenth century ones. Even though it was a much smaller town by population it felt more spread out  The colleges seemed to be more scattered about. I found it a bit claustrophobic, though, as the streets seemed to be very narrow.

F’s college, although technically founded before mine, in the fifteenth century, looked very eighteenth century. F had drawn me a map of where his room was and I found it with no trouble. I dumped my stuff in my (quite nice, if sparse) guest room and F took me around town to help get me orientated. The place didn’t seem to have a natural centre, really., unlike Oxford. I told F I was meeting a friend and he showed me where Rose Crescent, for the Gardenia Cafe, was. This appeared to be Greek and served food but was very small. There weren’t a lot of tables but as I went up the couple of steps off the pavement I spotted J in the corner. She had had her hair cut.


“You’ve had your hair cut!” I said.

“I’ve had my hair cut!” she agreed, standing up. Before, it had come down to her tailbone but now it was shoulder length.

“Do you like it?” She turned her head from side to side. I didn’t. I liked long hair.

“It looks great!” I said.

“It’s thicker now!” It was. She looked at me and laughed. “Come here!” We embraced and she kissed me and patted my bottom. “So, here you are in...”

“Fenbog!” I said, using Oxford’s nickname for the place. More politely it was also called ‘The Other Place’ by people at Oxford. I don’t think Cambridge has a nickname for Oxford as the students there have no imagination, as they are mostly tragic scientists. We sat down. She already had a coffee but got me a tea. She asked me if I had spoken to H properly yet. I said that yes, we had had an interesting discussion.

“You haven’t had sex again, I hope!” she said.

“It was her period,” I said. She frowned.

“You piece of shit!” she said, smiling. “Oh, and we’re not going to have sex either, so you can forget that!” I thought of the Durexes in my bag. I wondered how long they lasted before they went off. A month? Six Months? A year? I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait that long. “I have a new boyfriend!” I said I wasn’t surprised.

“How old is he?” I asked.

“Fuck off! He is a bit younger than me. Your age. Twenty.”

“A student?”

“Yes.”

"One of your students?”

“Such a cunt!” she said. “No he is not one of my small number of students. That would be very unprofessional. No don’t say anything!” I knew her last boyfiend had been one of her tutors. We chatted away quite happily after that. She told me about Sweden, teasingly emphasising all the time they had spent naked in the sauna and swimming. I thought they were pretty brave swimming in the northern Baltic. Nearly twenty years later I went skinny dipping in the Baltic with a Swedish girlfriend and it was absolutely freezing, even in the summer. Thankfully, she didn’t go on about their cousin that much, other than to say he was the happiest looking teenager she had ever seen when he left. She had had a word with him too and told him that he had a had a nice experience which would never be repeated and now he needed to find a nice local girl.

“You are quite bossy!” I said.

“Protective not bossy. Your girlfriend, C, is bossy.” She asked me if I had seduced any more women over the summer and I said not. I decided not to mention A at all as I hadn't seduced her as such.. She admitted that she had met her boyfriend only one week earlier but they had had sex four times. Before we knew it, it was six thirty and I said I had to go and meet another school friend for dinner. “Can I come?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“He’s in Oxford this weekend!” she laughed. "Seeing a school friend!"  I knew that my school friend, M, was bringing his girlfriend, so I said we could see. His college was very close and I met him, as planned in the porter’s lodge. His girlfriend was with him. She had shortish dark wavy hair and brown eyes, She was a genuine beauty, fashion model standard and was slim and elegant. She was wearing a black and white dog tooth check miniskirt, which was unusual for the time but she had world class legs. J was wearing jeans and a plain white blouse and I could see the two women eyeing each other up. I could see my friend, M, checking out J’s bust. He was always a bust man. I could also see his girlfriend, B checking out him checking out J. I introduced J as ‘a friend’ and they were very happy for the four of us to go out together which we did, to an Italian restaurant. B probed us at dinner to try and work out J and my relationship. In the end J made it quite clear. “My boyfriend dumped me for another man and I went to my sister’s College in Oxford for a ball and rebounded on to him," she pointed at me, "for a few days and then when I came back to Cambridge he rebounded onto my sister, disgracefully!”

“Ah!” said M. “You’re one of the sisters!” I later found out that Dobs had written to him about me that week. Dobs and M were close friends at school in the way I was with F, whose birthday I had come for.

“Infamous sluts now, obviously!” she said, looking amused, thankfully. The two girls both disappeared off to the ladies together, after the main course.

“Knockers like watermelons!” said M, enviously. I told him the sister was the same. He said that B was still his first (they didn’t last much longer) but they hadn’t had sex until the end of the previous year. He said that there had been blood everywhere. I said that C hadn’t bled at all and nor had J’s sister. We were just embarking on an interesting discussion about virginity when the girls returned.

“What have you been talking about?” asked J.

“What have you been talking about?” I replied. M and B left to go back to his College (they were both in the same one and both doing the same subject, like C and I had been). I offered to walk H home. She said she wasn’t going to have sex with me. She also pointed out that once I had walked her home (to a shared house as she wasn’t in College anymore) how would I find my way back to F’s College? I told her I had a good sense of direction and I’d be fine but I wanted to make sure she was safe.

“It’s Cambridge not Detroit,” she said. She kissed me goodnight. “Leave my sister alone!” she said over her shoulder as she walked away. Well, that was disappointing, I thought, When she had come to dinner with us I really thought I had a chance. Oh well.  A good part of my reason for going to Cambridge had just walked away from me without even  a proper goodbye.

Next day, F introduced me to his girlfriend, who was at a different college from him but doing the same subject. Bizarrely she looked just like him. They both wore jeans and Dr Marten boots, black jumpers and had identical glasses and hair cuts. Whether he was attracted to her because she looked like him or whether they both adopted each others style I didn’t know but they looked odd. We all had breakfast in F’s college and there was a very strange student there who carried a small keyboard around his neck and would play background chords whenever he spoke. No-one else batted an eyelid at this. This struck me as being a typically weird Cambridge thing. People there seemed to be much more eccentric and less down to earth.

It was a nice day and we walked along the famous Backs, where Colleges sat on the River Cam and people went punting in the summer. I had to admit that this part of Cambridge really was very attractive. I gave F his birthday present which was a copy of book I also had, which he had admired at school. He seemed genuinely delighted with it and I was glad I had spent so much time finding it in Foyles in London.

His party was held in the subterranean college bar. There were a number of people I knew from school there, as traditionally we sent more people to Cambridge than Oxford. T, in whose house I had misbehaved with Mandy the hairdresser, was there as was one of the more annoying boys from my year, G. G was an ugly little squit who was full of himself, He had joined the school with only three years to go so was considered to be a bit of a Johnny come lately. His father was one of the teachers too. He was also about five foot two and had a horrible Irish accent. I tried to catch up with my old school friends as much as the pounding music allowed. G was trying to chat up some girl most of the night and, typically, thought he was being hilarious and cool. People started dancing so I thought that was my cue to leave. I was just about to go when the girl,who was being molested by G, came up and asked me if I wanted to dance, I told her I didn’t but she begged, so as to get away from G. I jiggled up and down with her for quite a long time and although I didn’t enjoy it I was, at least, a bit more competent, due to my experience at the College ball the previous summer. Slow music came on (10cc’s I’m not in love was definitely one of them) and the girl stayed with me. At least I could now hear to talk to her while we danced. She clung to me very closely, no doubt to send a message to G. She was about five foot two as well. In fact,she was remarkably like C in appearance and even had long red hair, although really it was more strawberry blonde and wavy not straight. I told her she looked like a girl from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. She smiled. She was a fresher and it was her second week, as Cambridge terms start a bit earlier than Oxford ones. G tried to chip in on the dance but the girl, M, said she was happy dancing with me. G gave me a glare. I rather cruelly indicated the eleven inch difference in height between us with my hands. He stomped off. I bought the girl a rum and coke and she attached herself to me for the rest of the time in the bar. I bought her another drink and she started to be quite tactile, stroking my arm and thigh when we perched on a couple of bar stools to watch the other idiots dancing. It was punk music now and there was a lot of pogoing.

At the end of the booked time in the bar G invited about ten of us up to his (large) room. He then had another go at the girl and made her sit on the arm of his armchair. I was very jealous of his armchair. Mine had all been conventional wooden chairs with wooden arms, at College. His was a proper leather one with full arms. He had his arm around the girl and was trying to stroke her thigh. She was much curvier than C, I now realised and I thought that his arms were so short he could barely reach around her. An image of a Tyrannosaurus, with its silly little arms, came into my mind and I smiled while looking at the two of them. M smiled back at me and then stood up and came over to me, where I was sat on a normal chair in the corner, while G held court with supposedly funny stories told in his grating accent. She sat on my lap.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter!” she said. She stood up. I stood up. I waved at F and we bolted for the door. I caught G looking at us as we went through the door with a look of incomprehension on his face. “Is it OK if we don’t go to my room?” she whispered, rather shyly. I said that I had a guest room and we crossed the quad (or court as they call them, inexplicably, in Cambridge) to where my room was, I opened the door and turned on the desk lamp. It was quite stark as it had no possessions in it; just a few old prints of Cambridge on the walls, a bed, a bedside table, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a desk and two chairs.  As usual the furniture was a mix of styles and ages. I apologised that I couldn’t offer her a drink. I also wished I had some music. I sat on the bed and she came and sat next to me. Within seconds we were kissing. Well, snogging. She was quite assertive so, after a moment’s hesitation I slipped my tongue into her mouth, She put a hand on my thigh and started to stroke it. After a few minutes I pulled her down so that we were lying on the bed next to each other. “Oh!” she said.

“Alright?” I asked, She nodded and we started kissing again. I told her I was going to take my shoes off and she removed her sandals too. I took my socks off  and we resumed where we had left off, except I pulled her so she was lying on top of me. She squirmed about and I felt the heat from her pussy as she straddled my thigh.

“Oh” she said again. I started to stroke her bottom and wondered if she could feel my erection. The question was answered after another few minutes when she put her hand between our bodies and felt my bulge. “Oh!” she said again.

“You’ve got me very excited!” I told her. I then told her what a beautiful, exciting girl she was. She said she was very excited too. “Shall we be really excited together?” I asked.

“Do you mean...” she asked, looking at ne intently. She had lovely green eyes.

“You’ve got lovely green eyes!” I said. She smiled. “I’m going to take your dress off!” I told her, unusually assertively.  I think my experiences with J and H, the previous term, had given me a confidence with women I hadn't really had before.

“Oh!” she said as I started to undo the buttons down the back of her floral print dress. They didn’t go all the way down but she sat up, astride my thighs and pulled the dress over her head.

“Wow! Lovely!” I said. She was wearing a pretty, cream lacy bra and knickers set. She had a very big bust on a very narrow ribcage. They weren’t the size of the mythical watermelons but because her chest was small they looked much bigger. I clasped her tits gently.

“Oh!” she said. I squeezed. They felt superb.

“Superb!” I said. She grinned and removed her bra. They really were superb. I sat up a bit so I could kiss them.

“Oh!” she said again. Her vocabulary seemed a bit limited but she was a Cambridge scientist, I supposed. She started to undo the buttons on my shirt. Once I pulled my shirt off we resumed snogging and I really enjoyed her hard nipples and soft breasts against my skin. She had pale pink nipples but the areolae were only a little bit bigger than the teats themselves. Nice, I though and rolled her onto her back so that I could lick and suck them. “Oh,” she said, stroking my head and shoulders. “Take your jeans off!” she whispered. I rolled onto my back, unbuckled my belt and unzipped myself. She pulled them down my thighs and I kicked them off. She put her hand on the bulge in my underpants. I was expecting her to say ‘oh!’ again but she didn’t. “These too,” she said. I lifted my bottom up and she pulled my pants down. “Mmm!” she said and took hold of me with her soft hand.  She was kneeling between my legs. I reached for the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down, revealing a magnificent ginger marmalade coloured bush. She reached down and pushed her knickers right off. Then she lay on top of me and we went back to snogging. This was great, I thought. What nice girl. Well, not too nice. She now had her hand on my cock as we kissed. I was wondering how to get her onto her back so I could start licking her pussy. “Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, automatically. I had forgotten. “Wait! Yes!” I said. She rolled off me and I delved down into my bag before finding the box. I pulled a packet out and got it on the fastest I had ever managed. She was lying on her back. She opened her thighs and I lay between them. I would always check with the girl to see if she wanted to proceed.  I was still working under the misapprehension that nice girls didn't like it. "Have you done this before?" I asked, guessing that she hadn't.

"Of course!" she said, taking hold of me and guiding me towards her pussy.  I wriggled up and slipped into her. “Oh!” she said. I smiled at her, She smiled back, thankfully. I started to slowly thrust int and out. “Oh!” she said again. I kept it very slow and thought about A and her tantric teachings. I kissed her and she put her hands on my bottom. I managed to keep myself under control as she became more excited. I pulled her thighs up so that her knees were up to her shoulders, so I could get deeper inside her. I kissed her tits. Her hips were responding now and I was grateful to the condom for deadening the feeling somewhat. I had only met her about four hours before. Superb, I thought. I alternated between fast and slow, mainly to give me a chance to calm down. Eventually she started to come. “Oh!” she said. “Oh! I’m...” it was quite an active one. Her insides gripped me and her thighs gripped me too . She thrust her hips up. I kissed her as she came and sped up a bit so that I came thirty seconds later. We smiled at each other.

“That was lovely! You are just a lovely girl.” I said, rolling off her and pulling the Durex off carefully. “I’ll just get rid of this!” I said. I put my jeans and shirt on, went to the loo outside and dumped the condom down it. I went back to the room and she was dressed. “Are you leaving?” I asked.

“I suppose so!” she said, looking suddenly shy.

“Don’t go!” I said. “Stay in bed with me tonight!” She said she hadn’t got her soap or toothbrush. I said she could borrow mine. She thought that was a bit personal until I compared it to what we had just done. She laughed and disappeared to the bathroom with my soap, toothpaste and toothbrush. She used the college provided towel as I had brought my own. When she returned I took her clothes off again and we climbed into bed naked. It was a single but bigger than my one at College. We cuddled up and kissed. She asked how long it would be before I could do it again. I told her I was well on the way, given a bit of encouragement.

“Excellent!” she said. She started to stroke my cock and I started to get stiff again. “What’s your name, by the way?” All my school friends had been calling me by my school nickname, which obviously wasn't my real name.  I laughed and told her. “I’m going to write about you in my diary!” she said. I said I would so the same.

The next morning I used my third Durex on M. I suggested she get on top, mainly because I wanted to watch her tits bouncing around, which they certainly did. She came again although I hadn’t. I got her on all fours and took her from behind which she found ‘particularly exciting'. This time the sight of myself sliding in and out of her ginger pussy did get me off, despite the unpleasant looking shiny Durex.  I had decided that I really liked this rear entry position.

We got dressed and went down to college breakfast together. Disappointingly, neither F nor G had made it down to breakfast, M made me sit with some of her girlfriends and I felt quite paraded in front of them. They were all looking at me and in a none too subtle way trying to find out why M hadn’t been in her room that morning when they went to fetch her for breakfast. M walked me to the bus stop. We had a hug and a goodbye kiss. We weren’t the only ones. There was quite a bit of snogging going on. Oxford/Cambridge romances were still obviously flourishing.

“Thank you for a lovely time!” I said.

“When can we see each other again?” she asked.  Normally a comment that would have got me all nervous but she was a genuinely lovely girl and I wished she had been studying in Oxford not Fenbog.

“Why don’t you come to Oxford?” She thought that sounded great. I thought that having a girlfriend in Cambridge was better than having none at all. Especially one with such a lovely ginger marmalade pussy. We wouldn’t exactly be having a lot of sex but at least there was hope for some sex.

“This term! I’ll look at my diary!” The coach tuned up. “Thank you again, it was just great.”

“Same for me!” I said, giving her another hug and a kiss We had exchanged college and home addresses. She lived in Brighton which was only about fifty miles from where I lived.  She said I could come down over the Christmas vacation.  I looked out of the window as she waved me off and remembered doing the same with A only a week before. I was in a much better mood on the dreary drive back.  I was so glad I had bought those condoms, even if they ended up not being used on the girl I had intended.  I decided to get more to ensure I always had some. You never knew.  I also realised that I had got over J.  There were still other girls who found me attractive.

I got back to College late afternoon, feeling really hungry, as I had missed lunch. I dumped my stuff in my room and went to College to check my pigeou hole. There was a letter from A from Edinburgh. I decided to read it back in my room and have a nice wank. I popped into the Co-op to pick up some milk and a pork pie to keep me going until dinner. There was C, buying a couple of pasta ready meals.

“How was your trip to Cambridge?” I told her that it had been unexpectedly enjoyable. “Did you meet any nice girls?”

“A five foot two inch tall girl with long red hair. I was inexplicably attracted to her!” I said.

“Bastard!” she said. “You missed the last episode of the Dr Who story! Come to dinner and I will tell you what happened.” I said I’d see her at seven. She went off to get some thread for something she was sewing and I went to get a bottle of Chianti at Victoria Wine.

Back in my room I read A’s letter which thanked me for a wonderful time and ‘really pussy dripping sex’. She said she had been ‘diddling herself silly’ since she got back and hoped I was wanking while thinking about her. I’d actually just had a shower and came in the shower, unusually, thinking about M from Cambridge.  I promised myself that next time I would think about A, as if she could tell.

L came around for tea and I told her all about Cambridge. She thought that she and W should go and see it one weekend. She had a list of cities in Britain she wanted to see, including Bath, York and Edinburgh. She said I could go to Edinburgh with them and see A.

Dinner with C, was quite normal and the 45p a head rigatoni from the Co-op was a lot cheaper than College dinner. Being able to cook in our staircases was going to save quite a lot of money, we agreed.  Money we could spend on wine. There was no exhibitionist masturbation, disappointingly and no physical contact between us at all. It made me feel less guilty about M in Cambridge. C asked me what the dress shops were like and I said I hadn’t seen any, as if they would be top of my sightseeing list. The only shop I’d been in was Cambridge’s equivalent of Blackwells, Heffers, which wasn’t as good, I thought.  She kissed me goodnight, I patted her bottom and I left her in her room.  Maybe the friend only thing might work, after all.  Provided I could have sex somewhere else.

On Monday C and my two male friends from the lawyers went out and had dinner in a pub called The Chequers, just off the High. Sausage, beefburger, eggs tomatoes, etc for £1.20 was only a bit more expensive than College. We were trying to cheer ourselves up as we had our first contract tutorial the next day, with the horrible tutor, where our holiday essays would be discussed. Most of the tutorial , the next day, was about what we would be doing that term and it wasn’t until the end of the two hours that the tutor handed our essays back to T and I. He told T that his essay was pretty good and went through a few things with him. He handed me mine and I braced myself.

“Best in the year!” he said. “Best piece of work you have ever done!” He had given me A++. I was stunned. “Oh, and I can tell that C read it after you had written it and tried to incorporate some of your material into the conclusion of hers. Maybe just sticking to doing your own thing and not getting distracted is good for you!” Another dig. Still, I was so delighted I didn’t mind.

“Well done old chap!” said T afterwards. “Better go and tell C!” he said. I didn’t and just went to lunch in College and caught up with K, who was having lunch with a girl who did Engineering. She invited K, C and I to the engineers party, later in the week. Everyone else seemed to assume C and I were together still. I didn’t see C for a bit, as encouraged by my good mark, I started on the reading early, to get it out the way and give me more thinking time on the next piece of work. C was right about the freshers getting to the library early, though, and even though I got there before eight the next day they had taken all the best seats and I had to go to work in the rather depressing second room, where I had taken C up against the door once. C appeared at lunchtime and came and sat next to me.

“Someone has been a very clever boy, again!” she said, stroking my leg under the desk. Unfortunately the tutor had raised the elements that C had copied from me, which had annoyed her. “How does he know you didn’t copy them from me?” she said. The structure of the essays made it obvious but I wasn’t going to get involved in all that. “I’m going to come and cook you dinner tonight and you are going to buy a bottle of pink wine!” she said.

“That would be great!” I said, surprised. I stayed in the library until about six and then went back to the annex via Oddbins, where I bought a bottle of Rose d’Anjou, which reminded me of H and J. C turned up at about seven and cooked pork chops in white wine, vermouth, tarragon and onions. It was really good and we had it with rice. She told me over dinner that the panic over law school places was not so bad as we had thought, as one of the third years had said that they released the places in batches and most of them would be released at the beginning of the third year. One of the other lawyers in our year had actually had his cheque sent back. though. During dinner we drank the Rose and finished the white wine which she had brought to cook with. She lay on the bed and called me over for a cuddle, which I wasn’t expecting. We lay together in an embrace while she talked about our essays. Several people had talked to her that afternoon about my ‘excellent essay’. I felt relaxed and started stroking her back. She was wearing her pale blue silk blouse which I always enjoyed the feel of. I found myself getting erect.

 “You’re all excited!” she said. “Let’s have sex!”

“What?” I blurted.

 “I’m all excited too and you deserve a reward!” She started pulling my shirt out of my trousers. We were both naked in less than a minute. “I’m not on the Pill. Don’t come inside me!” She sat on my cock and started to move her hips. I was still a bit stunned, to be honest. “Don’t just lie there, fuck me back!” she ordered. I did and stroked the sides of her breasts which I knew she liked. “Umm!” she said moving faster and causing her tits to jiggle. We got faster and faster and she leaned forward for a kiss, This really surprised me as we hadn’t kissed during sex for ages. She was bouncing hard and I was thrusting hard and, unfortunately, our teeth impacted.

“Fuck!” I said, uncharacteristically. My whole head felt like it was vibrating.

“Yes Fuck! Fuck me!” cried C. obviously not suffering at all. I could taste bits in my mouth. I stopped thinking about sex and stopped thrusting. I felt along my front teeth with my tongue. I had broken a tooth. The hole felt huge. C just kept going. “You haven’t come I hope!” she said, grinding away.

“You’ve broken my tooth!” I said.

“Not my fucking fault!” she said, grabbing her tits. I felt her flow. She stopped moving. “Open your mouth!” I did. “Oh dear!” she said. “That’s not very attractive!” I pushed her over onto her side and went to my washbasin to look at myself in the mirror.  I knew exactly what had happened. I spat out the pieces. When I was eight, a nasty boy who lived next door to my family had thrown a stone at me outside my house. It had broken off the bottom of one of my top front teeth. My mother was distraught as it was one of my first adult teeth. A few years later I had it capped at the dentist and it was barely visible. The impact from C’s teeth had knocked it to pieces. The blow wasn’t that hard and her teeth were undamaged, on close inspection, but my artificial cap had just disintegrated. “Do not tell people how it happened!” she said. I looked at myself some more in the mirror.   “Oh poor baby!” she said, coming up behind me and putting her arms around me. “Shall I sleep over and look after you?”

“That would actually be really nice!” I said. I wondered if she felt a little guilty. I doubted it, on reflection.

“Nithe!” she teased. The chip on my tooth had given me a lisp. It would be seven weeks before I could go to the dentist and get it fixed. She went back to her room to get her overnight things. I was convinced that she wouldn’t come back. I tugged at my front teeth, thinking that they felt a bit loose and wondered if they might both fall out, so that I would end up looking like a seven year old. She did return, much to my amazement. I said that I would have a shower before bed. She said she would join me. She tried to cheer me up by soaping my cock but I was too distracted to enjoy it.

“Sorry!” I said. She said it was fine but looked annoyed. Just as we came out of the shower we ran into L, who was returning from the kitchen. She looked at me in a 'I really can’t believe it' way.

"He’s broken his tooth!” said C. “Hit it on the shelf!” L then wanted to have a look. She held my head in her hands and peered at it. I was quite enjoying her touch, I realised.

“Do you want some Bourbon?” she asked. “I banged my teeth once and it made my neck sore!” I realised that my neck was sore. I must have tensed it up on impact and pulled something. Bugger. This was just getting worse. C and I went into my room and she hurriedly made the bed and picked our clothes up. She folded hers up and put them neatly on my desk. L reappeared with a bottle of Bourbon and poured a huge glass into one of my tumblers. I hadn’t had it before and it was bit whisky-like for me but I felt better after it and was glad that the nerves in my tooth didn’t appear to have been exposed. C pointedly put two more tumblers on the desk and L, smiling, poured two rather smaller measure into them. I was becoming conscious of a sore upper lip now too.

 “I better tuck him up for the night!” said C, as L left. She removed her black ‘slug suit’ and undid the tie on my dressing gown. “Not a lot of space, is there?” she said. The bed was a foot narrower than the one we had shared the year before. “Maybe if we lie on our sides?” I suggested. C was not as skinny as A and had a bigger bottom. It worked, just about, with me facing the wall and C facing the room. I could feel her soft bottom against my back and started to get stiff. Despite the increasing pain in my mouth and neck.

“Thanks for a lovely dinner!” I said. “And looking after me!”

“Thanks for a lovely fuck. I really enjoyed it, until the tooth banging” She laughed. “Maybe I will toss you off tomorrow morning before breakfast. Cheer you up!”

“That would be nice!” I said.

“Nithe!” she said, laughing. I didn’t think it was that funny.