Friday, 10 February 2017

1979: Bricks, Tea and Other Girls






Dramatis personæ

In this episode:

Women at College
C my petite redheaded girlfriend
K C's best friend at College
L another female law student at College
J a female student having an affair with a male fresher.at College

Women from elsewhere

R a schoolfriend of C's at another college
S a girl from another college

Men at College

D a law student with the room next to mine
N a male fresher
R a first year lawyer

Men from elsewhere

E a former schoolmate of mine at another college
T a former schoolmate of mine at another college
M a student at another college



As soon as we turned from St Cross Road, where the Bodleian Law Library was located, into South Parks Road, C put her arm through mine. I warned her to look out for lawyers, conscious of her not wanting to show any public signs of affection in College, at least.  She replied that students from our College wouldn't go this way. "Anyway, everyone knows now!" she said.  She explained that one of the other female first year lawyers, L, had quizzed her about it.  L was becoming attracted to a beardy Chemistry (weren't they all - even the girls) fresher but was wondering if the college environment would be too hothouse-like for a fragile, budding first relationship.  At least, C assumed it was a first relationship on the basis that L was fat and ugly and no one would have gone near her previously unless the other person was equally ugly. 'I couldn't just jump straight in and start sleeping with him straight away, like you did,' L had said to an appalled C.  C had asked her what made her think she was sleeping with me and was told that everyone knew.  'Noises!' she had said, enigmatically.  Cursed D, the smirking second year lawyer in the room next door to mine, we agreed  "Do you think he puts a glass up against the wall to listen to us?" asked C as we stopped to cross South Parks Road.  "He probably has a glass in one hand and his dick in the other!" she said.  I told her off for being crude.  "Wanking and thinking about my juicy cunt!" I shook my head.  She was becoming more and more foul mouthed.  I knew she did it because I didn't swear and she liked to taunt me.  Generally, at that time, girls didn't use four letter words.  Not ones at Oxford, anyway, and not as nearly much as they do today.

"Here we are!" I said, as we crossed the road to Keble College.  "The ugliest college in Oxford!" I said, trying not to think about D listening to our sex sessions. 

"St Catz is worse!" said C, referring to the modernist St Catherine's college which had been built in the early nineteen sixties and was hidden away, like an embarrassing relative, behind the law library. Neither were considered 'proper' colleges by people from the historic ones in the centre of the city. There was a definite perceived hierarchy of colleges at Oxford with Christ Church at the top, due to it being enormous and full of Old Etonians, many of whom, it was said, hadn't exactly achieved the rigorous academic qualifications of other students due to an automatic quota.  Next were colleges like New College (for people from Winchester School), University, Balliol (lots of socialist politicians went there), St John's (the richest college), Merton and Magadalen (because they were allowed to eat roast swan in hall and had a big tower).  Colleges like mine were all lumped with other old ones in the centre like Lincoln, Jesus, Exeter and Hertford. Oriel was known for rowing.  Slightly below were smaller historic colleges like Corpus Christi or those which were founded in the seventeenth or eighteenth century like Wadham, Worcester and Pembroke.  Then, near the bottoim, were all the nineteenth to twentieth century founded ones like Mansfield, St Peter's (tragically poor and small) and the women's colleges (Somerville, St Hugh's St Hilda's, Lady Margaret Hall).  At the very bottom were St Catherine's (why go to Oxford to be in a concrete and glass box?  You might as well be at the University of  East Anglia or Kent or somewhere else ghastly) and, lowest of the low, Keble. 

Keble College, which loomed over the road like a malignant stack of Lego, was built of red bricks with white and blue-grey decorative elements.  Built in the 1870s (unlike our College which was early sixteenth century) it was controversial at the time and was generally deemed to be a blot on the largely limestone centre of Oxford.  Art historian Sir Kenneth Clark reported that when he was at Oxford it was regarded as the ugliest building in the world.  St John's College, on whose land it was built, were reputed to have a secret society, admission to which was only possible by chipping out one of the bricks from Keble's structure and presenting it to the committee. To advance within the society you had to then cut out a rare white and finally an even rarer a blue-grey brick. When I was there, my College''s rugby team was involved in a feud with Keble's rugby team and an expedition was launched from my College one night to chisel out a corner brick from Keble. The bricks are so ingrained into the culture of Keble that all students are given a red brick when they graduate. 'We're proud of our ugliness', it says.  Actually, looked at today, it is very attractive set of buildings, although the college was never completed to the final design, as the college ran out of money.

We were here to meet C's girl friend from school, R. Their school was a top grammar school and, like mine, had a reputation for doing really well at Oxford and Cambridge entrance.  Keble didn't have staircases; the rooms were arranged along corridors, like an hotel  This, we were later told by R, was reputedly so the College scouts could control who went into the students'  rooms. Keble had been founded very much as a religious institution. There was still something faintly prissy about it. 

R was, indeed a busty blonde, just as C had said. She was tall for a start, about five foot eight and her fluffy cream jumper was obviously under some strain from her bust.  She was not fat but wasn't skinny either.  Her jeans displayed a good, solid bottom and large thighs.  I was not surprised to discover that she was a good rower.  She and C had greeted each other with a kiss on the lips and a pat on the bottom.

"Is this the boyfriend?" she asked, looking at me keenly. Some women accuse some men of looking them up and down and sizing up what they might look like naked.  I got just this impression from R, disconcertingly.

"We are lovers," said C, theatrically, while no doubt imagining she was a character in a slightly racy, French, nineteenth century novel. 

"Nice!" said R.  She came up to me, put her arms around my waist and kissed me on the lips as well, much to my surprise. C looked a bit surprised too. We sat down and R put the kettle on.  The two of them nattered on about their school friends, where they were and what they were doing.  I was very aware that my purpose was to be decorative and amusing but not at C's expense.  I had been well briefed on how to behave and what to wear.

"Denims are alright.  Not cords.  Not your purple shirt and definitely not your purple sweater!" I had been told. They weren't really purple, more dusky crimson but C had a thing about them and had said she would choose all my clothes from then on.  I liked to wear bright colours but she didn't like anyone detracting from her own rather curious and colorful dress sense.

"So how did you two hook up?" R asked as she poured the tea. I noticed she used leaf tea in a teapot, as C was always banging on about.

"We met at interview," I replied. "Happily shared misery!"  R laughed and I could see C awarding me a mental point.

"So how long before you got it on?  We're only in fifth week now!"  A rather personal question I thought.  I wondered what C had said to her in the note she had sent through the college mail.

"He has a gas fire, in his room!" said C, as if that explained everything, which it sort of did.

"I see!" said R, offering me a chocolate digestive (which I thought was a bit flash) and thrusting her bust at me quite deliberately.  I tried to ignore it, failed and could sense C's amusement.

C told R, pointedly, that I liked petite women.   I wanted to say that I liked very many different shapes of women but dared not or I would get one of those looks from C that could kill small rodents at twenty feet.  R grinned at her and kissed her on the lips again.  C kissed her back and looked at me while she did it.  I tried to avoid looking at R's bust and failed, again.

"We were nearly lovers once!" said R dropping into a large beanbag chair.  C sat down on top of her, nestled between R's long legs.  I didn't know how to react; pretend I had not heard the comment, nod understandingly or look really interested. "We shared a tent on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition.  It got quite heated!!" 

"I told you!" said C, obviously referring to the fact that she had told me R would get me stiff.  I wasn't but I wasn't far off.  C was stroking R's denim clad thighs and R was stroking C''s jumper just below her bust. R kissed the top of C's head and one hand brushed C's breast, just for a second.. "I'll tell you all about it later!" said C.  "If you are good!" That meant I would have to buy her chocolate, I knew.  

"It will be quite a sexy story!" said R.  "Get you going!" she looked at my crotch.  

Fortunately, the rest of the visit was less torrid.  R took us to look at the famous painting The Light of the World by Holman Hunt, which was in the college chapel.  The only good thing about Keble, C and I agreed.later.  

"So, what did you think of R?" asked C as we walked back to College, up Parks Road, next to the stone wall of St John's College gardens. 

"She was very..." I hesitated, "outgoing!"

"You mean her bust was outgoing!  Outstanding, even!" laughed C.  

"Shape is more important than size!" I replied.  She grinned at me and squeezed my bottom. I asked her what on earth she had written about me to R.  C answered that there was quite a long paragraph on the beauty of male erections.  I shook my head.  C told me that our physical familiarity had to stop as we were approaching College again and just because people were talking about us didn't mean that we should behave in an 'inappropriate manner'.  This did grate, somewhat.  C was a lovely girl and I was proud to have her as my girlfriend, even if she could be a little...well, odd.  I wanted to show her off to some of my school friends too, particularly my old school friend Dobs who was at a former women's college that had gone mixed that year.

After another dreadful dinner in hall (which included the dreaded Portuguese potatoes - underdone boiled potatoes cooked in tinned tomatoes) I went back to my room and the gas fire, after nipping along to the vending machine and getting a couple of Lion Bars. Would C and I really not have 'hooked up' if I hadn't had my fire?  I had been a bit disappointed when I saw some of the larger and more characterful rooms some of the other students had in the first year but then I discovered that many of them were quite cold, with a small electric heater or an ancient radiator, struggling to warm the space.  My living room, at least, did get nice and warm, even if the bedroom could be a bit chilly, especially in the morning.  appeared after about fifteen minutes, leaving enough time for me to get the room warm for her.   She had her overnight bag which meant she was going to sleep over again, something I really enjoyed, despite the occasional elbow in my stomach and the fact that her feet always seemed cold.

I really wanted to hear about C's experience with R in the tent but wasn't quite sure how to bring it up.  I was sat on my armchair and she was on my lap resting her head on my chest.  One of the things I liked about C was that she didn't feel compelled to talk all the time.  We would be happy just sitting in companionable silence, kissing and cuddling.

"Was it nice seeing R again?" I said, after a while.

"You want to hear about us in the tent, don't you?" she said, smiling. "Let's go to bed!"  We went to the loo, stripped off and hopped under my duvet, clinging together so as to get warm.

"We were camping on our Duke of Edinburgh expedition and we were sharing a tent.  We had taken our outer clothes off..." she began, caressing my cock at the same time.  I said I thought that camping was always freezing and therefore you had to wear as many clothes as possible.  She told me to not interrupt but listen.  I later asked to write the episode down for me which she did, 'so you can wank over it' she had said. It was a warm night, she continued, and she and R had discovered that they had the same sleeping bag which would zip together to form a double one.  They had stripped to their underwear and slipped inside the joined sleeping bag together.  C had kissed R on the lips by way of a goodnight kiss and was surprised to find R responding rather enthusiastically.  C, not wanting to appear timid, had returned R's kisses and they had had quite a passionate snogging session.

"Crikey!" I said. imagining it.  C had let go of my cock and we were now lying next to each other on our backs.

"Then she undid the clasp on my bra.  I didn't even notice until I felt her pulling it off!" continued C.

"You just let her?" I asked, desperate to touch myself at the thought.

"Yes, I was very excited. I was going to take hers off but she was already doing it herself.  She asked me if it was alright and I said yes and kissed her again!" C said she could feel R's hard nipples rubbing against her own bust.  They wriggled about until R was underneath and C was on top.  C insisted that it was she who had straddled R's thigh and started to gently rub the crotch of her knickers against her friend's leg, while pressing her knee against R's groin.  C described the feel of R's skin, the softness of her kisses and the heat emanating from both of their pussies.  I realised that C was rubbing her own pussy as she told me all this. I placed my hand on the back of her hand and felt her middle finger moving.  "I want you to wank and come all over me!" she said.  I was rather embarrassed but started off, after lying on my left side.  C started to kiss me and I increased my speed and could feel her doing the same to herself.  I came hard, all over her forearm and tummy.  She stopped what she had been doing, which was disappointing as I hoped she would bring herself off, too.  Or perhaps she had.  After we had rested in silence for a few minutes, I asked if she had had any other experience with R like that and she said that was the only one.  She said that I was obviously hoping that R had 'eaten her pussy' but. laughing, said that was my job.  I wriggled down to the foot of the bed and set to, the cold soles of her feet pressing against my sides.

I had hoped that all this might encourage C to go and take me to see R again but she didn't.  In the first term you tended to go and seek out people from your old schools but, after that, your life tended to shrink back to those in your own college.  I mentioned my encounter with R to our friend K one day, when she popped around for tea and biscuits when C was shopping.

"Do you think C is a lesbian?" asked K.  "She is always stroking me!" I thought that K was nearly as tactile back. "She doesn't seem interested in getting a boyfriend!" I was amazed that K hadn't sensed anything between C and I when nearly everyone else in college seemed to know about it.

"She does like girls, visually..." I offered, thinking about the book of Renoir nudes we had looked at in Parker's together.

"Lots of other girls are hitching themselves to men in College.  It's disgusting!"  She went on to list a number of couples who had formed among the freshers, some of whom I hadn't heard about.  Some of them later even got married, often going back to the college chapel for their wedding. K was particularly critical of most of their looks; the implication being that it was only the ugly people who were 'at it'.  There was special opprobrium poured on poor J, who was linked up with a male first  year student, N, who had already seduced one of the other first year girls, that relationship having lasted three weeks. "Apparently J is good in bed, whatever that means!"  said K, pursing her lips in disapproval.  "At least they are both equally ugly!" This seemed to reflect C's view as well, so I suspected they had been talking to each other about it.  They had, I later found out, while C tried to find out if K suspected anything about us, other than us just being friends.  C discovered that K had no idea we were 'at it' and considered that sort of thing rather vulgar.  C had rather cruelly referred to K as a 'professional virgin' and, in fact, it would be many years until she lost her virginity.  C felt very superior as a result and regarded herself as a woman and K as a girl.

In many ways, however, I felt more comfortable with K as a companion, as she was supportive and friendly, not constantly critical like C was. Trying to deal with one of C's criticisms; my tea, K and I went out to get some leaf tea and a teapot in Selfridges. I chose the Jacksons of Piccadilly tea as it came in nice cylindrical tea caddies in different colours, depending on the tea inside.  Eventually, I ended up with about four of these and most of my friends at College had some too.  I thought the Selfridge's tea pots were far to expensive and delicate looking so we got a traditional blue pottery one and a tea strainer in Debenhams, instead.  We went back to my room and had tea and crumpets toasted on the gas fire.  C came around later and was delighted with my proper tea but later told me she was annoyed I had given it to K first. I was a bit baffled by her attitude as it wasn't as if K and she were in any sort of competition but she got jealous if I spent any time with K.  This would come to a head the following term.

During that time we were informed that the College law students had to attend a formal dinner of the College law society.  Former members of college came back for it and we were told it was, essentially, compulsory for current students.  This was tedious enough in itself but then we were  later informed that it was black tie.  C was delighted as she could dress up but it meant I had to hire a dinner suit (at £8) and pay for the dinner.  More expense.

Shortly after this, we attended the Principal's reception for freshers which was very dull and the Principal left half way through it.  I didn't know it at the time but there is a famous picture of the Beatles taken in the same room back in the sixties. I had applied to my College because it had more law places than any other, on the basis that it would be easier to get in.  The Bursar told me at the reception that this was because it was the most well known legal college and Law was the only subject in College that had three tutors.  More High Court judges had attended my College than  any other institution.  The following week C and I went to see my schoolmate E at University College.  He was doing History but didn't seem to have anything like as much works as we did, even though he had an exam at the end of term. A week or so later I was walking past the Paperback Shop and there was a big queue outside as some of the Monty Python actors were there signing a book.  Michael Palin (who went to the same college as I did) told me that lawyers from my College had more work to do than anyone else in Oxford!

After this point, though, things eased off a bit and our lectures went from six to four a week.  C and I had more time for sex and took full advantage of it.  The more we did it the more we wanted to do it. We were doing our washing together, again, in the subterranean laundry room when C whipped off her knickers, unzipped me and sat astride me on the chair. I was terrified that someone might come in (although we had put another chair against the door to act as an early warning) but C was obviously completely carried away by the excitement; moaning and writhing and emitting copious amounts of creamy girl juice (some of which got on the front of my trousers, annoyingly).

We then had a week of me being dragged around clothes shops while C looked for a suitable (or unsuitable, more like) dress for the Law dinner.  In the end K helped out and took the pressure off me. as dress shopping was stressing me out.  Some of the women's clothes shops (like Annabelinda) were fabulously expensive with dresses costing up to £500!).  C liked the second hand shops, particularly those which had vintage clothes and eventually settled on a nineteen thirties dress covered in black sequins from Pom Pom in Little Clarendon Street (known as Little Trendy Street on account of all the  boutiques). I arranged to hire my dress suit but had to buy a dress shirt and black bow tie.  I ran in to another person from my school, T, while at the cashpoint and he said that it was worth investing in a dinner suit, dress shirt and tie as there would be a lot of black tie events and balls. I hoped not.

Out and about one day, we ran into from a gaming society C and I had joined (role playing games not roulette!) at the beginning of term.  M was at New College and said that they were having a staircase party that Friday night and we should go.  I had been to a couple of parties in freshers week (always without C) and very dismal they were, with shy people (like me) skulking at the edge of the room while exuberant extroverts showed off as usual. I wasn't keen but C always wanted to meet new people (men, at least).  A staircase party was where everyone on a staircase (usually about eight rooms) opened their doors to host visitors.  As we walked to New College C told me that we weren't to consider ourselves a couple but could explore other options.  I knew that this meant that C would be flirting with posh men again.

Much to my surprise the staircase party was quite fun.  There were people we recognised from the law library (one of whom I met again last year at a big City law firm reception and she remembered me 'always being with a redhead' more than thirty five years later).  Although there was a noisy room for people who wanted to dance (ugh), there were several quiet rooms too.  C met another girl from her school from St Catherine's College and they went off to dance while I sat in one of the quiet rooms and drank horrible, warm, Yugoslavian Laski Riesling. At some point I was joined by a dark and sultry looking girl called S.  She had an exotic Greek name but had a typical middle class southern English accent.

"You're from Twickenham!" she said after we had chatted for a while. I was amazed.  Twickenham was only five miles from where my school had been.  I hadn't told anyone else there where I was from.  She claimed to be just good at placing  London accents. "Or I'm psychic!" she laughed, patting me on the thigh, before disappearing to another room.

C reappeared, arm in arm with some man who, it turned out, was a minor aristocrat.  Ideal for her. She was flaunting him at me and smirking, although he seemed more interested in C's friend from St Catz.  Having taunted me enough she disappeared again, leaving me with the horrible wine and sitting in a bean bag chair.  I increasingly felt loathe to stay.  I thought about R at Keble and her bean bag chair and her big bust.  Maybe I should just go back to College and leave C to it, I thought. I was just about to go when S returned, looking flushed and perspiring, having been dancing  She had that hot girl flesh smell mixed with a lemon scent.  She was wearing a little red cocktail dress, unusually short for the time and black tights which set off her long black hair.  The room was now quite full but even so I was surprised when she asked to share my bean bag and dropped onto my lap. I went into an instant panic about what C would think if she returned. We talked about Pre-Raphaelite painting. because of the posters the room's owner had up on the walls and I said that I had seen The Light of the World at Keble, which she hadn't yet.

"Everyone's snogging!" said S, suddenly, half way through talking about the Post-Impressionists exhibition at the Royal Academy. I was not aware that, at staircase parties, individual rooms developed their own functions: dancing room, bar room, listening to music room etc.  As I looked around I saw that S was right and this was, or had become, the snogging room.  It reminded me of J's garden during his party when I had hooked up with Mandy the hairdresser.  Couples were entwined all over the floor and one pair were even lying full length on the bed in a very copulatory position.  I looked back at S and she looked at me and winked.  Her pupils were huge, her lips parted slightly and we just fell into it.  Not a shy kiss but straight into a full on French kiss. Oddly, I held my hands out away from her body as if touching her might cause her to explode or bring C into the room instantly like a vengeful harpy.  S was not so concerned; one of her hands went behind my neck and one was stroking my chest,  I could feel one full breast pressed against my chest as she sat sideways on my lap.

"Do you think that we better get out of here?" I suggested as we broke apart to get some air.  The couple on the bed were really going for it now and one of the men there had his hand up his girl's skirt.  I was worried it might turn into a full blown orgy.  Someone turned the one remaining light off. S didn't seem that keen to get up and trying to stand up yourself when you are sunk into a beanbag chair and had a girl sitting on you wasn't really possible,  I pushed her haunch gently and after a moment's resistance she got up.  I was out the room like a scared rabbit and she was two steps behind me.  I suggested we get some more wine and we headed down to the bar room. I looked at the wine on the desk, trying to find something drinkable and failing.  Most of the drinks were beer and I didn't drink beer.

"Hullo!" came a familiar voice.  C had returned, on her own, thankfully.  I immediately felt a flood of guilt.  "Hullo, S" said C to S and gave her a kiss on the lips.  S kissed back and the two were immediately snogging in front of me,  I looked at them both in shock.  Did they know each other?

"We've been dancing!" said C.

"With each other!" said S.  Maybe K was right; maybe C was a lesbian.  I don't know if it was something about the sort of girls who went to Oxford but there were a lot of girls into girls, I later discovered.  This was not something I had come across in my limited interaction with women to that point.  I supposed that it was just them exploring their sexuality and as one of them later told me, you could have "sexy fun and not get pregnant".  Anyway, after my initial shock I found it very arousing, of course.  C and S were now standing facing me with their arms around each other;s waists. "Shall we go somewhere quieter?" asked S.  C was stroking S's arm and looking at me.  She nodded at me.  I hesitated, worried that something might happen which might break C and my fragile relationship. "I know where we can get nice wine!" added S.  I nodded, despite my reservations.  C kissed me.  Then S kissed me and then they kissed each other again. I followed them from the staircase into the freezing quad and we headed to another staircase.  It was past midnight,  We followed S up onto the second floor of another staircase.  I was mesmerised by her undulating bottom as she climbed the stairs. C squeezed my hand as if to say 'let's just have an experience'.  S  unlocked the door to  a quite large room   We asked her if it was her room but she said it was a friend's room.  S was at another college, she explained and her friend was away for the weekend. We didn't ask why her friend had given her the key.  

It was obviously a girl's room, from the posters and soft toys. S obviously knew her way around as she got a bottle of Côtes du Rhône out of the girl's wardrobe and found a corkscrew and three glasses.  S  made us sit on the bed, poured the wine, turned off the lights except the desk lamp and put some music on.  It was obviously Rachmaninov but wasn't a piece I knew (it was the Isle of the Dead).  C, didn't say anything and neither did S, slightly worryingly.  I wondered if I should but the other two were just gazing at each other, raptly.  C swigged a big mouthful of wine and turned and gave me a grapey kiss.  I was a bit immobilised as I was worried about spilling the wine on the girl's bed. We sat and drank in silence for a minute or two.  I started to think that this whole thing was a very bad idea.  Who was this girl?  What did she want?  Maybe it was just wine.  She had already finished her glass.  She came over and took our glasses from us.  I had had a few sips and C had drunk half of hers.

"Take your shoes off!" she said.  C kicked off hers right away and I pulled mine off too, after some hesitation and difficulty with my laces, as usual.  S launched herself at us, pushing us both onto our backs across the bed.  She was astride my thighs but kissing C.  What followed was a session of kissing, caressing and writhing about on the bed and then on the floor, when we fell off the bed.  S was kissing me and then C. Sand C were kissing each other.  Any nervousness disappeared almost instantly.  C was clasping S's breasts and S had her hand up C's skirt.  S rubbed the palm of her hand on my erection which was straining against my jeans. I caught C's eye early on as S nibbled her ear.  C's expression just said: 'Isn't this fun?' Fun and almost breath-robbingly erotic.  No parts of our bodies were off limits for caressing, although I was a bit concerned about touching S to start with but at one point I was sat with her on my lap, facing away from me while I squeezed and caressed her breasts while C kissed her and stroked my thighs.  The amazing thing was that at no point did any of us try to undress ourselves or each other; we remained completely clothed throughout but I was close to coming on several occasions.

Almost as if at some mutually agreed point we broke apart and sat on the floor, looking at each other and grinning.  It was as if we had been in the grip of some collective madness which had suddenly passed and reality had returned.  One summer, many years later, I was in Helsinki on university graduation evening where all the students get completely drunk, skinny dip, have sex in public and urinate on the streets.  There is litter, broken glass and empty bottles everywhere.  The next morning there is not a sign of anything having happened and the Finns go back to their normal respectable ways.

"That was fun!"said C as we finished our wine.

"You're both very hood kissers!" said S, pouring herself the rest of the bottle.  "Kissing is my favourite thing!" We both agreed that S was an excellent kisser as well. S said that she needed to get to sleep as it was now very late.  I asked her if she needed walking back to her college but she said she was staying in this room that night.  We never did find out whose room it was and why S was in it.  C was convinced that it belonged to her lesbian lover. "Are you going to have sex when you get back to your college?" S asked as we left the room.

"Definitely!" said C, squeezing my bottom.  Actually, I was feeling tired and the effects of the wine and I would have been happy just to cuddle up.

"I'll think about you and diddle myself!" said S.

"Would you like to watch us do it?" asked C.  "Maybe join in?"

S actually looked tempted for a second but fortunately said, "another time, perhaps."  I was relieved as I didn't feel up to performing. We both gave S long goodbye kisses, especially C and they snogged for about fifteen seconds while C grasped S's bottom.  We went back to the main party staircase and retrieved our coats.  C and I both needed the loo but there was a long queue.  C said she couldn't wait so we set off for College.  We hadn't gone more that a few dozen yards down Holywell Street when C stopped dead.  I asked her what was wrong.

"I really need to piss!" she said,  I told her to hang on as we were only 400 yards from College. "Can't wait!" she said, squatting down behind a tree at the corner of the facade of New College.  She had her knickers down at her knees and coat and dress pulled up to her hips, revealing her stocking tops.

"What if someone comes?" I asked looking up and down the narrow street but there was no sign of life at all.

"Too late now!" she said.  I could here her spraying the paving stones in long bursts.  She went for longer than usual, so maybe she really was desperate.   She wiped herself with a pocket tissue and stood up.

"Your turn!" she said.  I told her I could hold on. "Don't be so timid!  Let one go here!" She started to unzip me.  I looked up and down the street again.

"Alright!" I said. I stepped behind the tree and hoped I had avoided stepping in her puddle which I couldn't see.  I realised that I really needed to pee too and hoped no-one would appear, in what seemed like the  minute I stood there, while C watched me.

"Good!" she said, when I had finished, as if I had passed another test, which I probably had. We let ourselves back into College with the night key and crossed to the far corner where our staircases were.  C didn't stop off at her room but followed me up the stairs to my room.  I realised, as I let her into my room, that she was quite drunk.  She wasn't unsteady or anything but her eyes looked a bit unfocussed.  I suspected I was no better.. As I shut the door behind us she grabbed me.  I kissed her hard.  She tasted of wine.. The harder I kissed her the more she responded, rubbing herself up against me.  I pushed her onto the rug in front of the fire which was off, of course. I pushed her dress up and yanked her knickers down to her ankles and started to unzip myself.

"Yes!" she gasped.  The sight of her orange pussy and stockings did their usual job, boosted by my memories of S's hot groin as she had straddled my thigh at one point.  I shoved myself up C with none of our usual foreplay whatsoever.  "Jesus!" she said as I started to hammer into her, both of us fully clothed, on the floor of my cold room. We were even still wearing our coats.  I confess I thought about S and what she might feel like.  C was kicking her leg trying to get one foot out of her knickers.  She clamped her legs around me.  "Fucking hell!  Fucking hell!" she was gasping, quite loudly, I realised.  She was grinding her hips so hard I popped out of her and had to shove myself back in. I started to come inside her but kept plunging away, managing to keep a partial erection, at least.  I felt her internal muscles grip me and that flow of liquid she let go when she was really excited. I stopped moving and we kissed.  She grinned broadly.  "Terrific!" she said.

We disentangled ourselves and she kicked her knickers off at last. She told me to get the fire on while she went back to her room for her contact lens solution.  I nipped down to the loo again while she was away and she returned after about ten minutes. We sat in front of the fire for a bit.

"That was our best screw ever!" she said. "Were you thinking about S?"

"Maybe a bit!" I admitted.

"What a sexy girl!" said C.  "I would have loved her to watch us just then!"

Once we had got undressed we fell asleep quickly, as it was now past 2.00 am.  We didn't wake up until nine so we realised we had missed breakfast.  After a more gentle one than the night before (mainly because our heads were a nit sore) we went out to one of the cafes in the Covered Market and had a bacon sandwich each.  C couldn't stop talking about S, which I didn't mind.  It was better than her going on about the drippy aristocrat, who had gone off with some tall, posh blonde girl, to C's annoyance.

"Next time you want me.  Just grab me and take me.  No need to ask.  We don't have to get naked and do foreplay!" she said as we walked towards Cornmarket and WH Smiths for the paper. I looked around nervously.  She would come out with these comments at the most inappropriate of times; like a busy Saturday morning in the centre of town.  Oxford was always packed on Saturday. We went into Smiths to get the paper. "Let's get a girly magazine!" she said, looking at the top shelf.

"Why?" I asked.

"So we can look at naked girls, of course!"  I told her I wasn't going to get one as it was too crowded. She tutted at me and after some thought while looking at the covers chose Penthouse on the basis it had the trendiest looking girl on the cover, who had frizzy blonde hair.  I stood to one side, in embarrassment, while C brazenly handed the magazine to the woman at the check out who showed no surprise whatsoever.  C wanted to carry it openly back to College but I made her tuck it onto the newspaper

Back in my room C lay on the floor and looked at Penthouse with interest while I made some tea.  I had bought some chocolate digestives in the Co-op on the way back to College, which C approved off. C looked at the pictures and gave her opinion on the women.  I hadn't bought a Penthouse for ages and it seemed very modest compared with Men Only from a couple of years before. There were only a couple of shots, of the centrefold, Tammy showing her bits but C liked them and was surprised by them.  It turned out that she had only seen Playboy before and hadn't expected to see genitals.  She observed that she would like to lick Tammy's pussy.  She then went on about S from the previous night again and how I had missed out by not seeing them dance,  She said that if I had been there she would have got me to have a slow dance with S and her together,  I said I didn't dance, slow or not.

C said she was going to write to S and tell her about our 'animalistic screw' the previous night, as she called it. . I hoped we might link up with S again but C never sent a note and I didn't see her again. The following year C said she had seen her in the covered market with another girl and she had been friendly but gave no hint of anything more.

C was lying on her tummy and had her hand underneath her, pressed against her groin.  She wriggled on it and looked at pictures of two girls dressed in motorcycle helmets and skin tight vinyl.

"Do you have any magazines like this?" she asked.

"A few," I replied.

"Any here?"  I said no and that they were at home.  She looked disappointed and told me to bring some back after Christmas.  She said I should buy one every month for us to look at.

The following week it was the College Law society dinner.  C looked completely over the top in her black sequinned thirties dress. K had come up to my room to tie my bow tie at 7.00 pm and then we both went over to C's room so I could collect her.   Fortunately, any worries I had about her trying to be the centre of attention were avoided by another first year lawyer, R, having a purple dinner suit and matching bow tie.  This was the cause of much quiet hilarity. I was told by one of the other lawyers , while we were having sherry beforehand, that it was because he was Jewish and had it for his Bar Mitzvah.  I had no idea what a Bar Mitzvah was as we only had two Jewish people in my school and the only thing unusual about them was the fact that they didn't have to go to assembly every morning where we had prayers and had to sing a hymn. In fact K was Jewish but her family were Spanish Moroccans and she was rude about 'crinkly haired Jews' from Easter Europe.  Not much solidarity there, I thought.

C and I didn't get to sit together at the Law dinner, as the students were spread amongst the former College members, who were all solicitors or barristers and mostly men.  We had Vichyssoise, Bouef Bourguignon and Black Forest Gateau for dinner which we thought was OK but not £8.50 worth, especially as the Black Forest gateau was obviously frozen. There was a lot of wine and port and sherry beforehand.  It was my first experience of a formal dinner at Oxford and the amount of port drunk was staggering. I looked down the table to the far end of the hall to where C was sitting and was shocked to see her smoking a cigarette with some of the men who were smoking cigars.  My father had died at the age of fifty, largely due to smoking 80 cigarettes a day and I was very, very anti smoking as a result. To this day I have never had a single cigarette.

Once the dinner had finished, I met up with C again and told her off for smoking.  She told me not to be so dull and that she only had a couple a year.  I could smell it on her and didn't like it. We didn't go down to the College bar afterwards (in fact I think I only went there once during my whole three years) but went up to see K and tell her about the evening.  I shopped C for smoking to K who surprised me by saying that she quite liked some sort of pastel shade cocktail cigarettes for women.  I was doubly shocked and the two teased me for being square.

We stayed until two in the morning and C kept trying to stroke K who kept looking at me and raising her eyebrows. After we left K, we went down to C's room.  C kissed me but the smoky breath was horrible and it was on her clothes too.  I said that I was tired and we should sleep separately in our own rooms. C looked cross and accused me of punishing her for smoking.  I said I wasn't but I was.

The next day was Saturday and I picked up C from her room as usual at breakfast time  We both felt a bit delicate from the port at dinner the night before and had a quiet day; having a walk in the Botanical gardens and along the river as the sun was out, even if it was cold.  We had sausage chips and beans in the Turl Bar, which was in a little courtyard off Turl Street not far from College.  After lunch we got into my bed to make things up between us for the smoking incident

"How many girlfriends have you had before me?" asked C, out of the blue after I had just licked her to orgasm again, having come inside her rather too quickly.  My heart leapt.  She had never asked this before.  I had told her that I was a virgin when we had first had sex, which was true.  I had never asked her about previous boyfriends as, frankly, I wasn't interested and didn't want to know.

"You're my first!" I said, hoping she would drop the subject.

"You're really good at cunnilingus," she said. Nobody used that word in conversation, I thought.   "You must have had lots of practice!"

"I've been doing it to you for six weeks.  I know what you like!" I said, trying to sound as offhand as possible, while visions of my first time performing upon A's musky pussy swam into my mind.

"You can tell me.  I won't mind!" she said.  I had heard from K that the reason N's first girlfriend at College had chucked him was because he told her about his previous girlfriends.

"No-one.  Just you!" I said, smiling and tying to look angelic.

"Good!" she said, thereby confirming my tactic as correct.

The end of term rushed upon us quickly.  We went to the College Carol Service in Chapel (which was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, like St Paul's in London) which actually took place only a few days into December.  It was all candlelit but as the service went on the candles started going out and by the end we couldn't see to read the service sheet or the words of the carols.  Christmas dinner was also quite fun. K asked me if I wanted to go to the Post-Impressionist exhibition at the Royal Academy over the Christmas break, which annoyed C as she was going back to Birmingham and couldn't go.  She and her mother were due to move house closer to me in January but this would be after we went back to Oxford on 17th January.

My mother was coming to collect me on Saturday but fortunately I had got all my Criminal and Roman Law work done so I could have Friday off. C and I had our final one in front of the gas fire 'where it had all started'.  C was in gentle mode, sat astride me and gently undulating her hips.  She felt really warm and wet and I was stroking the sides of her breasts, which she really enjoyed.  She pulled up quite high and I looked down as I enjoyed watching my cock penetrate her.

"Your're bleeding!" I said, alarmed.  My erection was covered in blood.

"It's my period.  A bit early.  Are you disgusted? Shall we stop?"

"No, it feels really nice!" I replied.  She leant forward and kissed me and we finished off with her lying on top of me.  She told me that she got really 'horny' when she had her period and it was rotten luck that we would both be at home.  As we lay together in front of the fire, with me still lodged inside her sticky cunt, we discussed if we could see each other over the Christmas holiday. We decided that the cost of a return ticket between Birmingham and Surrey was going to be prohibitive and she had to help her mother get ready for their house move, so we just agreed to write to each other.

She wrote to me on 18th December. a week after we had got home. "I thought I should write to charm your thoughts away from the lascivious and promiscuous K who has doubtless been telephoning you at every waking moment" (she hadn't) She noted that her mother had bought her some very tactile velvet trousers and wished I "was here to be tactile with".  She informed me that she had been back to school for prize day to pick up her prizes and stroke R and her mother, who was wearing a fur coat.

I wrote back (not quickly enough, as she sharply informed me) and said "so, as far as my thoughts being preoccupied with K, your suspicions have been quite unfounded".  I know this as she wrote back on 31st December, quoting this at me and then saying I has spent a page and a half of my letter writing about K and our plans to go to the Post-Impressionist exhibition.  K had invited me to stay at her house in Ealing, much to C's fury.  I had also told her that I had had a nasty bottle of South African wine which had made me feel ill and she wrote back saying I wasn't to have any more as she didn't want me "going back to College all weak and impotent."

I had had the most wonderfully sexually exciting eight weeks at College but the Christmas break was largely spoiled by the fact that we had a collection (an exam) immediately we got back on 17th January. Still, I was looking forward to seeing K again in London in not just the New Year but the New Decade.  The eighties were coming and so, I hoped, would I.

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

1979: Rubber, Candles and Duvets




Dramatis personæ

In this episode:

 Women at College

C my petite redheaded girlfriend
K C's best friend at College

 Women from elsewhere 

S a relative of my aunt
R a schoolfriend of C's atr another college

 Men at College

L another law student
A another law student
G another law student
D a law student with the room next to mine N a male fresher R a first year lawyer



After our passionate weekend, C's and my lives returned to normal the following week.  It was back to lectures and long hours in the library.  There was little time for sexy interludes, although we kept ourselves simmering by sending each other erotic notes and cards; dropping them off in each other's pigeonholes in the Lodge.   We did see each other a lot, of course, but there did not seem to be the extended time we needed to get enjoyably naked.  

'I want to draw you so much,' I wrote. 'I want to capture every beguiling curve. every pink nipple and every orange curl of your soft fluff."  I know I wrote this, as I still have Cs answer agreeing to it. 

'I want to feel you inside me again; your big fat knob rubbing at my wet insides,' she wrote back and "I wish you could come in my pigeonhole!!!".  

By Thursday we were seething with lust. I was masturbating at every opportunity I could, when I was in my room.  We grabbed every chance for a quick kiss and a caress, perhaps in the depths of the main law library or on our way there, in Holywell Street, if there was no-one about.  I would slip my hand up underneath her skirt and caress her, briefly, and she would rub my throbbing groin amidst the shelves holding the Tulane Law Review. Our workload that week was huge.  I wrote to my mother saying that I was doing fifteen hour days.  We were so close but couldn't do anything about it.  We sat next to each other in lectures and then at adjoining seats in the main law library where we would surreptitiously caress each other's thighs.  We would write each other notes and pass them to each other. We had to be much more circumspect in the small college law library and I became aware of the amused glances we got when we went in there together.  There was a smaller reading room beyond the main one and, particularly in the evening, we would sometimes find ourselves alone in there.  I would get my fingers inside C's knickers and she would sometime unzip me and caress me, all the while expecting someone to burst through the door. "One day I am going to get under the table and dick you!" she said, squeezing my cock, just before the door opened and I had to quietly get myself back inside my trousers without looking rushed or guilty.

The problem was that we were doing two subjects, Roman Law and Criminal Law and our quiet introductory days were behind us. We both had essays to write for Thursday. C suggested we take half an hour for 'a quick one' on Wednesday but then we were invited around to L's (another first year lawyer) to discuss the essay question. We both agreed we needed this more than sex, although later we both admitted that we should have gone back to my room, had a quick one and then gone to L's room.  A. another first year, was there too and as we talked through the problem C and I realised that we had both missed something important.  We had to go back to our rooms and rewrite the essay.  I didn't get to bed until gone 3.00 am. C told me that she had been up until 2.30.

C had her tutorial just before lunch and I had mine late afternoon.  I went straight to her room after my tutorial finished and we both agreed we ware glad that we had gone round to L's the night before and redone parts of our essays.

"Look what I've got!" said C.  She opened her shoulder bag and showed me a blue Durex box. She had gone to Boots and got them after her tutorial.  The sales assistant had been a man but she had brazened it out, although she hadn't realised that there were different types.  Neither had I.  Despite my mother encouraging me to get some when I was with A I never did, largely because I was too scared. "After dinner!" she promised, giving me a nice wet kiss.  As soon as she touched me we grabbed each other, though, and I was just sliding my hand up under her skirt when there was a knock on the door  "It's K  I invited her!"  We pulled ourselves together and I sat on C's window seat while she let K in, who was going with C and I to dinner.  We talked about the stress of our tutorial and K said that at least we didn't have an exam which we had to pass at the end of the first term, like she did. 

L asked northern A (actually they were both Northern), C and I back to his rather splendid room after dinner, although C said we couldn't stay too long as we had "things to catch up on".  The four of us were becoming a little group within the first year lawyers.  A and had no idea of the fact that C and I were more than friends, though.  Neither got girlfriends at College and, I think, both married their first girlfriends, long afterwards.

We got back to my room after an hour or so and a big packet of custard creams. L always had lots of biscuits. The problem was that it was about six hours since I had had my fire on and the room was cold. I soon had it started and we sat in front of it, warming up and removing layers of each other's clothing as we did so.  We were soon naked and I was stiff.  We sat opposite each other, cross legged. C had one of the little oblong Durex packets in her hands.

"It's a bit lacking in spontaneity," she said, trying to rip open the end of the packet and struggling. She bit into one corner.

"Don't tear it!" I warned.  She tore the corner off with her teeth and made a face.

"Nasty!" she said.  She got the packet open and pulled the condom out.  We both looked at it, uncertainly.  Neither of us had seen one before. I thought the whole thing would come out looking like an icing bag, rolled up like a Swiss roll but it was all rolled up in itself, like a sock..

"How on earth...?" I began. 

"Do you want to put it on or shall I?" she asked. 

"I'll do it!" I said taking it from her.  She was right, it felt and smelled nasty.  "Which way round?" I asked.  I thought I needed to unroll it, somehow, before putting it on, like a washing-up glove on a  finger.  C tried to look at it to see how it went but she had taken her contact lenses out and her glasses off.

"I can't see!" We had turned the lights out and just had the fire on, providing a warm orange light. I was starting to lose my erection.  "Maybe they are just so difficult to use that you stop wanting to have sex at all and that's how they really work!" said C

"I'm not feeling very sexy now," I admitted.  "Not your fault!"

"Do you think that if you don't use them straight away they go off and self destruct, like Mission: Impossible?" she asked.  I carried on trying to unroll it in my fingers.

"Bloody thing!" I muttered,

"Don't be so middle class," chided C.  "Fucking thing!"

"Or rather, It isn't," I said.  In pulling at it I thought I might have nicked it with my fingernail, so we threw it in the bin and got another packet out of the box. 

"Sex is going to get expensive!" said C. I was completely flaccid now so she made me lie on my back and started to kiss and lick me back to life. She put her mouth over my knob and then sat up, suddenly. "Eureka!" she said. "It's obvious!"  She ripped the next packet open and felt the ring before placing it on the top of my glans.  "You unroll it over your dick!" she said, demonstrating.  And there it went, quite easily.

"How many Oxford University undergraduates does it take to put on a condom?" I asked. 

"Shut up!  Now, give it to me!" she said, lying down on her back next to me.  I was between her legs in a trice, guiding myself into her.  I anxiously kept my finger around the bottom end in case it fell off or something but, of course, it didn't.  

"What's it feel like?" I asked anxiously, starting to gently thrust.

"Fine, OK!" she said.  "Not the same though.  I want to feel you, not some smelly rubber thing!"  I didn't like it either.  I couldn't feel her wetness around me.  We carried on though and she soon had her legs around me and was gasping and moaning quite noisily again.  It was working for her, anyway.  She started to come and I kept going.  I thought the Durex was reducing my sensitivity a bit which was a good thing, I supposed.  I felt myself coming so pulled out.  "What?" said C.  I had forgotten the purpose of the thing, after all that.  I was so concerned about not coming inside her I had pulled out automatically. "You're an idiot!" said an exasperated C.  "I wanted to see if I could feel anything!"  I was deflating and carefully pulled the Durex off.  I didn't know where to put it.  C got a pocket tissue from her bag and wrapped it up before dropping it in my dark green metal bin.  "It's revolting!" she said.  Our first condom use had not been an unqualified success.

did not sleep over as she had to get up early to go back home to Birmingham for a doctor's appointment and to pick up some things.  She wasn't coming back until Tuesday but took her law books with her.  She would really have to catch up when she got back.  I woke up early and went over to her room to see her off but she had already gone.  K came down the stairs and told me that C had gone back home early.  K had a towel and her sponge bag.  She said we could go into breakfast together but she was going to have a shower first.

"Do you want to join me?" she asked.

"That would be lovely!" I said.  It was a joke, she said. She told me to wait as she would only be a few minutes.  

"Don't you dare think about me all wet and naked and rubbing soap all over my body!" she teased. She was a teasing sort of girl.  A 'prick teaser', she would have been called at my school.  Leads you on and then...nothing.  One day someone is going to throw you to the floor and give you one, I thought.  From the rear.  I sat at the foot of the stairs, thinking about her bottom.

Given four days with no C, I decided to have a good push at my next essay reading.  I spent time with A and L in the evenings, drinking tea, eating large amounts of biscuits and listening to classical music in each other's rooms. A had a lot of Russian music I didn't know, by composers like Balakirev and Kabalevsky.  favoured Bach and baroque music.  

"Did you know the second and third years are talking about you and C?" asked L. one evening. 

"Really?" I said, innocently.

"They seem to think that there is something going on between you!" said L, carefully.

"That you're at it.  All the time!" said A, ever the blunt northerner. 

"Really?" I said again, dunking my gingernut.

"Especially D.  He has the room next door to you doesn't he?" persisted.

I agreed that he did and that C did come over to my room a lot because of my gas fire.   C had told me never to say anything about 'us'.  This was, I later discovered, because she was keeping her options open for someone, richer and posher.  

A day later I was sitting in my room before Hall and there was a knock on the door.  I thought it might be K, suggesting going to dinner but it was an attractive blonde I hadn't seen before.  It turned out that she was the daughter of the sister of one of my aunts.  S was not a real blood relation but the relation of one by marriage.  She was at Jesus College, just around the corner and was very nice.  Shortly afterwards did arrive at my room and said she couldn't go to dinner as she was seeing another friend. She asked if I had posted my dinner ticket for that day because I could have hers, so it would not be 73p wasted.  I asked S if she wanted dinner and she said yes so K gave us her half ticket and I gave her 73p.  K left, giving me a look that said 'you naughty boy''.  I knew I had better tell C when she returned before K did, although I had explained that she was my 'semi-cousin'.  

This was nothing compared to the looks I got from the other lawyers when I took Sarah to dinner that evening.  "When the cat's away!" muttered G, another first year lawyer, when I walked past him.  I hoped S was out of earshot. Fortunately, dinner wasn't that bad and Sarah said that it was better than the food in Jesus, anyway. We both agreed that at least we weren't at Lincoln, whose kitchen emitted the disgusting boiled cabbage smell into Brasenose Lane.  S came back to my room afterwards and, being a third year, was full of helpful tips about Oxford life, especially as regards selling on books after the first year, so you could get some cash back on your outlay.  She said one thing I must do was join the Oxford Union.  It was expensive, though.  I had already joined the Law Society and the College equivalent and had spent over £35 on books so far.  Most of the other students doing other subjects had spent a couple of pounds on books but Law books were expensive.  The only other person who had spent so much on books was the girl studying Chinese.

S left just before 12.00 and so I walked her back to Jesus, which she had to get to quickly, as they locked the doors at midnight and she didn't have a late key.  A lot of colleges made you sign for a late key for the main entrance and only had a certain number to give out by the day.  We were lucky in our college in that we all had one all the time. I stood outside Jesus saying goodbye to S.  I thought about giving her a goodnight kiss.  She looked like she might be receptive to one and was looking expectantly at me. I thought about but thought she wouldn't mind, especially as she was always going on about how attractive one of the second year lawyers was. We hesitated.  The moment passed.  I wished her goodnight and she gave me a little wave and disappeared inside.  I had to use my own late key to get back into College and went to bed wondering what S looked like naked. I thought we had got on well but I never saw her again, probably as she was too busy working for her finals. An opportunity missed, perhaps.

On Saturday K and I decided to miss lunch as the choice was between grilled sardines (fish, yuck!) or Boston Baked Beans.  While dinner in hall was served to you at the table at lunch you had to queue up in the kitchen where you were served by the staff straight onto your plate.  Boston Baked Beans came from one of the large metal oblong serving tins full of hot baked beans with rinds of thick greasy bacon fat semi-submerged in it.  That and the curried eggs were the most revolting things that the College kitchens produced.  We soon discovered how cheap College food was, though, as we looked around town for another option.  A Chinese take away for two was a staggering £8.40 and the Gate of India in the High wasn't much cheaper, even with the 10% student discount and they charged you extra for take away containers, which we thought was a bit much.  Sweeney Todd's near the New Theatre wanted £1.40 each for a pizza so we ended up in Burgerland, where you could get burger and chips for 94 pence.

I had learned to buy food for Sundays and the next day K came around and we had crumpets toasted on the gas fire, which worked really well.  I had pinched some butter pats from Hall and kept them on the windowsill. K was as flirty as ever but however desperate I was for female physical interaction I realised that trying something on with my girlfriend's best friend was not a good idea, however desirable she was.   This was reinforced with the return of C from Birmingham on Tuesday.

"I hear you spent the entire weekend with the lascivious K!" she said, when she came around on Tuesday afternoon.  She had seen K, when she came back, before me.  I had to explain that I had spent some time with K but then I had also spent some time with other people.  "Like that girl you took to Hall!" she said.  I explained that she was my semi-cousin, or something. C didn't look convinced.  Fortunately, I had bought her a bag of (expensive) chocolate coated Brazil nuts from Selfridge's so she soon perked up again and gave me some more chocolate-flavoured kisses before dinner.

After dinner we went back to her room and K attached herself to us so we couldn't have a frolic. showed no sign of going so I went off to my own room at about 11.30.  There was no physical activity with C for a couple of days so I worried I had upset her for some reason.  In fact she was having her period, as she later told me and felt a bit "yuck".

Sitting in the law library the next day C passed me another note, written on one of the book reserving slips. "Let;s see if we can get into the nice bathroom tonight!"  Perhaps she wasn't upset, after all. On the way back from the library every day we had to pass Blackwell's Music Shop; the biggest classical music shop I had ever seen.  It was (there is still a Blackwell's Music Shop but on a different site) a strange bunker-like building which formed part of an accommodation block for adjoining Wadham  College ('they're all odd at Wadham', we knew).  You descended into the shop through a tunnel like entrance, with the packed shelves of LPs being arranged around a  garden light well. Christine wanted me to buy a cassette of excerpts from Carmen.  I had the orchestral suites but not the opera itself.  In those days I didn't much like opera, except Wagner.  I was loathe to spend money on cassettes as I would rather buy the records and then record them onto cassettes.  C was insistent and didn't quite stamp her little foot but very nearly did.  I acquiesced.  We then went to Debenhams and bought some candles and went to Selfridge's for bubble bath.  C, it seemed, was planning something more theatrical than just a normal bath.

I had been scouting out the target bathroom while C was away and discovered it was indeed, popular.  After about ten it usually became free.  There were only two rooms on the staircase in question but we knew that others used it.  There was only one problem with this bathroom.  You had to go through the New Stairs entrance from New Quad which meant passing the chocolate vending machine, the entrance to the law library and the entrance to the Junior Common Room.  It was a popular and busy corner of college, therefore.  C was worried about us running into other people, especially other lawyers.  After dinner she started sending me to the bathroom to see if it was free.  It it wasn't I was to come straight back. if it was free I had to stay in it and she would join me.  It took only two trips, forty five minutes apart.  The room was free.  I went inside and locked the door. The bathroom, in comparison to the ones at the bottom of my staircase, was as deluxe as the Ritz. Although someone had been in the bathroom earlier, the bath was dry so they had probably been just using the washbasin before bed.  The bath was huge and, best of all, the room had a radiator.  It was warm!  After about ten minutes there was a quiet knock on the door.

"It's me!" said C.  I let her in. She was dressed in her bear-like fur coat.  It was quite cold out that night but I was a bit surprised as she had only come about seventy five feet from her staircase. All was revealed when she slipped it off to reveal that she was just wearing a pair of black stockings and a suspender belt.  She grinned, kissed me and squatted down to root about in her bag.   I looked at her starfish anus, appreciatively and decided that she was flashing it at me deliberately.  She pulled out the four candles she had bought, along with four empty miniature marmalade pots she had pinched from the Randolph Hotel.  She soon had the candles lit and affixed to the bottom of the glass pots with hot wax.  She placed them around the bath on the floor and switched off the lights.  They gave out a surprising amount of light.  She pulled out her little battery cassette player and put on Carmen which we had played a bit of earlier.  She started to run the bath and poured bath foam into the running water.  "This is better!" she said.  It certainly was.  I began to take my clothes off but rather than trying to help she just stood and watched me intently, although I never knew how well she could see without her glasses or contact lenses on.  I was, needlessly to stay, as stiff as a pole.  She squatted down again and took me straight into her soft wet mouth.  She looked up at me all the time and I soon felt myself about to come, which was not surprising considering how long it had been (a week) since we had had any proper interaction.  I tried to withdraw at the appropriate moment but she pulled my bottom forward with her hands so that I started to come inside her mouth for the first time.  "Mmm!" she murmured before swallowing.  "That was nice!" she said.

"It certainly was!" I said.

"Now we can have a nice bath and then you can take me in your bed!" she said.  She then sat down on the loo so I looked at the bath and busied myself with turning the taps off (it had taken ages to fill).  "Watch me!" she said.  I turned around and she sat back and spread her legs so I could actually see the top of her stream as she pissed.  She grinned.  She certainly had exhibitionist tendencies.  "Your turn!"  She hopped off and I stood in front of the loo.  She stood behind me and her hand took hold of my flaccid prick.  Despite this distraction I went without any trouble.  "I wish I had a prick!" she said.

"I'm very glad you don't!" I replied.  She tied her hair up so it didn't get wet and after I enjoyed removing her stockings and kissing her orange bush we climbed into the bath.  We then discovered, of course, that the amount you needed to run for two people was a lot less than for one and it started to sluice over the edge.  We leapt out and pulled the plug, so as to lose some of the water. Washing at College had been so cold and miserable it really was a luxury experience and we really liked the candlelight.  We would spend a lot of money on candles over the next year.

We sat facing each other and she told me about her long weekend at home.  She said that she had arranged a special present for me which I could find out about later.  I tickled her parts with my toes, under the water and she played with me gently until I was completely stiff again. She mounted me and bounced up and down a few times before, teasingly, getting off me.  She washed me, slowly and gently, soaping me and then rubbing me with her (natural) sponge.  I reciprocated and by the time we had finished we both had wrinkled fingertips and aroused genitals.

"Time for your treat!" said C after we had gone back to my room, successfully avoiding any lurking lawyers at the foot of the stairs.  We were huddled by the gas fire, as it fought to warm up the room.  C went and pulled a foil packet out of her bag and waved it at me.  I looked puzzled. "It's the Pill.  I'm on the Pill!" she explained.  When she had visited her doctor she had got him to prescribe the Pill, picked it up that afternoon and took it for the first time that day which coincided, she told me, with the first day of her period. This meant that it was effective immediately and, anyway she had been taking it for a week now.  I took some convincing that it would work that fast and thought that it took a month to bed in.  She had a leaflet in her bag which confirmed everything she said.  "You are going to screw me and come inside me!" she said, forcefully. "Right now!"  Not wishing to disobey, I pushed her onto her back in front of the fire. She was still wearing her fur coat but hadn't put her stockings back on after the bath.  Eschewing our usual foreplay I got right between her thighs and started to lick her breasts and finger her.  "Yes!  Do it!" she said, obviously enjoying my vigorous approach.  I plunged right in and started to thrust in and out rather harder than I usually did. "God yes!" she cried.  She was getting quite noisy and writhing around in her fur coat and we were both getting quite sweaty.

"It's coming!" I said., after not very long at all, really.

"Stay inside!" she urged.  I did and spurted right up inside her.  She pushed her hips up before dropping her bottom back down onto the golden lining of her coat.  "Christ!" she murmured, "Ravished!" she added.  "That was terrific!" she said, giving me a kiss.  "Our first proper one!"  She must have come a few seconds after me. "Get up!  I don't want spunk leaking onto my coat!"  It was too late, though and there was already a damp patch on the lining.  She wiped it with a tissue and then wiped herself between the legs.  We went to the loo, together, me dressed in my dressing gown and her in her fur coat. We would have looked like a very odd pair if we had been seen by anyone but, fortunately, we weren't.  We hopped into my bed where she told me that she was going to stay the night again, as we didn't have an early lecture the next day.

We did it the next morning.  Then went back to her room after lunch and did it again.  Then we did it again after dinner. We agreed that this was much better than the horrible condoms.  I thanked her for going on the Pill for me as I knew that there could be side effects.  "I went on the Pill for me not you!" she said, un-romantically.

The following Sunday we did nothing else but have sex, endlessly, in my room. We kissed, we licked, we sucked and we fucked for hours.  C told me that she could tell when I was about to come as my cock sort of throbbed and felt bigger inside her.  Sometimes she could feel me spurting but mostly it was just a sense of more liquid inside her. She found that the process of me coming brought her off almost immediately afterwards.  She experimented with gripping me with her insides and she could. later, make me come with no thrusting if she did that and it was the first one of the day.  We had solved the peeing problem by her buying a large opaque, white Tupperware flask which would store several pees each until we had to go down and empty it in the loo. We hid it in an Athena poster shop bag which we christened the 'piss bag' to go with the 'piss flask'. We wondered what the Athena staff would think about how we used their bag but then we all put our dirty washing in carrier bags which had "it's clean, it's fresh at Sainsbury's" written on them.  She still wanted a chamber pot, though and said we should find an antique shop.

The following weekend, half way through the term, I went home, on the train.  My mother had bought me a duvet and a cover after I had mentioned that I wanted one in a letter. I didn't tell her that I wanted it so that my girlfriend could suck me off under the covers more easily, of course. Although she obviously suspected something, as she told me to be 'very careful' whenever I mentioned C.  When it was time to go back to College I wondered how I would manage the huge box on the train but we took it out of the box, rolled it very tightly and stuffed it into a large grip. The trip back was something of a nightmare, though.  I should have had a simple journey back changing trains once, at Reading, but the line was being worked on and I had to get a replacement bus service between Wokingham and Bracknell so I missed my connection.  By the time the next train arrived it was so full I couldn't get on with my two big bags.  I didn't get back to college until nearly eight at night, by which time I had missed dinner.  I dropped off my bags and went up to see C who was in a tactile mood.  I told her about my new duvet and she wanted to 'christen it' straight away.  She gave me some biscuits, as I was starving.

Unfortunately, on the way down her stairs we ran into K who, of course, wanted to come up to my room too. C looked cross until K brandished a bottle of port she had been given by a friend.  We sat in front of my gas fire drinking port out of my wine glasses which meant we drank more than we should have (such is the way with port).  C told K that I had a new duvet and the girls agreed to make my bed for me (I had taken my bed linen home for my mother to wash!) in exchange for the heat from my gas fire.  I often wondered if I would have lost my virginity at all that year if it hadn't been for my gas fire.  Then C said she and K would warm my bed up for me. C started to remove her jumper and skirt and K shooed me out of the bedroom saying I was not to look. If only she had known!  I was invited in after a minute to find both girls wriggling around under my duvet and giggling, drunkenly.  I noticed K's jeans were draped over the end of my bed.  K squealed at something Christine did to her under the duvet.  C invited me to join them both in bed but K would have none of that.  Eventually, I was sent out again and they got dressed, disappointingly, as I was finding K more and more attractive.  K insisted on leaving, with C in tow.  C gave me a look as if to say 'wait up!'

I went down to the freezing basement for a very quick shower and to clean my teeth.  When I returned, C was sitting on the floor outside my door with her little night bag. We didn't waste time but stripped off and got straight into bed.  C was very mobile, diving up and down like an otter to show how much more she could move about under a duvet. Kiss, lick, stroke, suck.  Then she climbed astride my hips as she had done for a bit in the bath.  She wrapped the duvet around her to keep her warm in the chill bedroom, Although I didn't have anything to keep my body warm except her hot little cunt around my cock.

"What were you doing to K in bed?" I asked later, when we were cuddled up and warm.

"Trying to get my thigh between her legs!" laughed C. She said that the problem was that K was so ticklish that any contact on her skin set her off into fits of giggles.  She admitted that she had got a feel of K's breasts 'although there wasn't much to them' but she could feel her hard nipples.  She then told me that she was going to see one of her friends, R from her school, the next day,  She was at Keble College and she wanted me to come along so she could show me off, which was more positive than our undercover relationship in College.  really fancied R, sexually, and they had always been tactile (one of C's favourite words) with each other. "You'd like her, she is blonde and busty!" said C.

"I like petite redheads!" I answered, stroking her fluff.

"You wait until you meet R!" said C.  "Bet she makes you stiff!" she started massaging me again and I started to respond to her, again, partly because I was thinking about C and K writhing around in my bed earlier. I wondered what R would be like, as I slid between Cs open thighs again.

Wednesday, 28 December 2016

1979: An Expensive Day





I had always woken up quite early.  I had had a long journey to school and when I worked at the airport I needed to leave home early too, so at College I woke up every day at about 6.30 am.  I never liked sleeping in, even at weekends, as I felt that it was a waste of the day.  I woke up that Sunday morning at about the same time as usual.  The bedroom was chilly but not too cold.. I looked to my left and could just see the top of C's red hair above the sheet.  She was facing the wall.  I smiled to myself at my recollection of the night before, when we had done It.

I did wonder whether the act itself made C, somehow, a more important girlfriend (if she even was that) than A, even though I actually didn't know her so well.  Would C wake up, think the episode had been a mistake (I recalled she had drunk quite a lot of Port the night before) and we would never do It again?  Or did this mean I was inextricably tied to C in some emotional way?  Might she think we had to get married?  Was losing your virginity a bigger deal to women than men?  I supposed it was, despite the fact that I had been thinking about It since my time with A back at school.   After all there was a physical barrier to be broken for women, as I remembered from my school biology lessons.  But C didn't seem to have a barrier to break and there had been no blood.  Perhaps she wasn't a virgin after all and was just not telling me because she thought I might be upset.

All of this went through my head as I decided to see if I could slip out of bed without waking C, so I could put the gas fire on.  Very slowly, I moved in stages to climb out of bed.  It wasn't that easy with sheets and blankets and the bed was quite high off the ground.  After a process which actually took around a minute, I was squatting, naked, in front of the fire.  I was very conscious of my nakedness and I began to get erect as I recalled that final plunge into her hot,wetness last night. It!  It had felt wonderful!  C seemed to have enjoyed it too.  Perhaps there might be more, after all.  I got even stiffer at the prospect.

I struck a match and the fire made its usual 'whoomph' noise as the gas ignited. I hadn't realised quite how much noise it made until I was trying to be quiet. I crept back into the bedroom, meaning to get dressed, as I needed the loo.  As I went through the door I could see C's little face looking at me.  She was awake, blinking in that short sighted way she had when not wearing her (quite thick) glasses or contact lenses.

"Hullo!" she said.  "Lover."

"Hello,  lovely!" I replied.

I apologised for waking her but explained that I wanted to get the fire on. She said that was fine but ordered me back into bed to warm her up. I think that there is almost no sensory experience that I enjoy more than being in a warm bed with a warm lady the morning after a night of passion. As soon as I got back into bed her hand was on my cock.  She asked if I had been thinking about her and I admitted I had.  We kissed and cuddled for a bit and she massaged my erection continually, keeping me stiff, despite needing the loo.

"I want it again!" she said.  One doubt put to rest, anyway. I climbed between her thighs and this time she guided me in.  I started very slowly, again, but was able to speed up a little as I didn't feel I was about to come straight away this time, which I think was to do with the pressure in my bladder.  "Mmm, mmm!" she said, rather more loudly than last night and as she got more worked up she started to breath loudly in staccato puffs.  Then she started to moan quietly, gasp and make other noises to the extent that I worried about D, the second year lawyer next door, hearing us.  "Hnhh,hnhh,hnhh! Oh!  Hnhh, hnhh,hnhh! OH!" she went.  She raked her nails down my back and was rotating her hips, animatedly, as I continued to pump away, gently, enjoying her wetness.  The pressure in my bladder was increasing and my balls started to twinge too.  I remembered from my school biology lessons that peeing stopped erections, or something but I was still completely stiff despite the pressure.  I started to worry that if I came I would immediately start to pee. C grabbed the metal bars of the bedstead above her head. "Ooh!  Fuck!" she gasped, loudly enough for me to worry about D next door again,  She stopped moving and squeezed my bottom.   I stopped moving too.  We kissed again and I gently pulled out of her.  "You didn't come!" she said.

"I need the loo!"

"I came.  You made me come!" she kissed me again. "Sorry about swearing!"

"It was fine. Sexy!" I said. She resumed stroking my erection which was subsiding despite my not ejaculating.

"Shall I dick you?" she asked.

"I really need the loo!" I said, kissing her and climbing out of bed.

She said that we needed a chamber pot, as then we could piss (I was surprised at her use of the word) and get back to it without having to leave 'our garret'.  I thought that my scout wouldn't be too impressed at having to empty it. I got dressed to nip to the loo.

"Wait!  I'm coming too!" she pulled her cocktail dress on over her naked body.  I did up her buttons and wondered how she had put it on herself. We headed down to the loo on the floor below, in the staircase next door.  No-one else was about. 

"You go first!" I said.

"Lets go in together!" said C. It only had a loo and a washbasin but was quite a bit larger than the ones at the bottom of my staircase; easily big enough for two.  Still, this was an odd suggestion, I thought.  Sexual intimacy was one thing but this?  C was already opening the door.  I followed her in and bolted it.  She was already hiking her dress up and sitting on the loo.  She tinkled into it while I looked at the washbasin in embarrassment.  "Your turn!" she said, wiping herself. "We can combine our piss like blood brothers!" I stood in front of the loo and unzipped myself.  Halfway through, her little head popped around my side to watch.

"You go for ages!" she observed.  We washed our hands and, peeking out of the door first, rushed back upstairs. She got me to undo her dress and pulled it off.

"Get your clothes off!  We're going back to bed, it's not even seven!" She made me lie on my back in bed and slithered under the covers so she was between my legs.  She started to kiss my cock. It wasn't that easy for her to move under the blankets.  Her face appeared up on my chest. She said it was hopeless and I needed to get a duvet like she had.  She pushed the covers down but it was cold in the room.  She told me to get in front of the fire, which I did and she started to suck me off in the warm living room.  I was surprised at how quickly I got stiff again.  Eventually, she pulled off and said she wanted to see if she could finish me off by hand.  As I had with A, I had to tell her to grip tighter and move her hand faster than she was doing but she soon got the idea.  I spurted all over her hand and my belly.  She rubbed it into my skin but didn't lick it up like A used to do.

"I like wanking you.  How many times can you come in a day?" she asked, sitting on her haunches like The Little Mermaid and caressing my deflating cock. A pearlescent droplet dripped out my hole and she caught it with her index finger and popped it into her mouth, frowning, thoughtfully.

"I don't know!" I admitted.  She asked whether, if my balls couldn't make sperm fast enough, if they were completely drained, then would my cock not get stiff.  I told her I would still get stiff, however drained my balls were and that they wren't linked.  She said they patently were, gently squeezing my balls then tracing her finger along my cock to my tip. She leaned down and kissed it and said she intended to find out all about it today.

We cuddled in front of the fire for a bit and then she said that this starving in a garret was all very well but she needed breakfast.  College didn't do breakfast on Sunday and in those days there were no shops open, except newsagents, either. I made her some tea and gave her my last chocolate bourbon biscuit which she crunched, disconsolately. I asked her what she would like if she could have anything and she replied hot chocolate and croissant. I had a think and told her to get dressed as I would take her out for breakfast. I said I would go and have a quick shower but she decided not to join me as she didn't want to get her hair wet and her shower cap was back in her room.

When I returned from the fastest shower I could manage, given the cold, she was dressed in her blue cocktail dress, stockings and, I assumed, her blue lingerie again.  She wanted me to wear my suit and shirt, so she didn't look overdressed, which of course. she did. She scolded me for not having a normal tie and said I needed to sort my wardrobe out. Then, as now, I was completely uninterested in fashion.   I said I could try to put my white bow tie on again but she said then everyone would know we hadn't gone home after matriculation and had obviously been matriculating all night.  I laughed.  In the end I wore my suit without a tie.  She refused to go back to her room to get a coat, in case she ran into K, and just wore her dress as we sneaked out of college, without anyone seeing us, except the porter who looked at us as if we had been matriculating all night.

There was really no-one much about that early on a Sunday morning and the only sound was just the various bells ringing.  We walked down Brasenose Lane, which always smelled of rotten cabbage, past the Co-op and the market and along Cornmarket and Magdalen Street.  C was shivering in the cold so I gave her my jacket to wear which meant that I was then shivering in the cold.  The few people who saw us looked at us as if we had been matriculating all night.  Eventually, we reached the Randolph Hotel and I could sense C perking up like a crocus in the sun.   This was Oxford's biggest and poshest hotel and most students only got inside if their parents took them there.  Built in the nineteenth century of yellow brick, in a Gothic style, it sat opposite the Ashmolean Museum.  It says much for the cost and intimidating nature of the place that this was the only occasion I visited it during my three years in Oxford.

The people running the restaurant looked slightly askance at us but given it wasn't exactly packed, they grudgingly let us have a table.  C, who had given me my jacket backwas positively sparkling with delight and was even more so when I ordered her a glass of Buck's Fizz, something she had gone on about before.  I didn't join her, having had it before, as I felt that orange juice ruined a perfectly good glass of Champagne.

I treated myself to a proper, cooked breakfast and C made dubious comments about her wanting sausage later.  C had three cups of hot chocolate, a lot of croissants, toast and marmalade and looked happy and gorgeous.  She even gave me a kiss from across the table, in a rare demonstration of public affection.  I was grateful for the money I had earned at the airport but hoped C wouldn't start to expect this every week. Breakfast had cost about the same as an entire week's food at College.

"You've earned a lot more matriculation, today!" she said, wiping the chocolate from around her mouth.

We walked back to College by a different route: down Broad Street, where we could look in the Paperback Shop Window and Parker's bookshop, which had a good collection of art books.  C was always going on about something called the Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, a medieval illustrated manuscript of some sort, about which I knew nothing.  She wondered if Parker's might have a copy.

We turned down Catte Street, the latter being on our normal route to the Law Library, to get back to Radcliffe Square.  By the time we got back to college there were a lot more people about.

"We just need to avoid K," said C, "or she'll attach herself to us all day!".  We raced across the small paved area next to C and K's staircase and started to climb up the stairs to my room. Half way up we met D, from the room next door to mine, coming down the stairs, who smirked at us. "That was unfortunate!" said C.

Back in my room I gratefully took off my suit and shirt and C then told me to take everything off.  I unbuttoned her dress and asked her how she got it on and off on her own.  She said it wasn't easy but she could.  She removed her French knickers and camisole but kept her stockings and suspenders on. I was completely stiff as soon as I saw her dressed in just her stockings.  She stood with her back to me, looking at my cassettes, to find a tune. She really did have a nice bottom, with cute dimples above it.  She put on the Carmen suites by Bizet and then turned around to kiss me. "You're going to be a bull and I am going to ride you!" she declared.

C made me turn my desk chair around and sit on it. She then straddled me and we kissed, wetly.  I leaned forward so I could kiss her breasts and suck at her nipples, which she liked.  She took me in hand, lifting her hips up slightly and then dropping down on me so I was inside her.  She started to bounce up and down quite vigorously (the music was pretty vigorous) smiling and looking at me all the time.  I caressed her bottom and she took hold of my hand and made me feel where I was entering her.  It was fascinating to feel where I was penetrating her, my wet shaft pushing and pulling her fleshy petals in and out.  I tickled her perineum and then her anus with my fingertip and she giggled.  As she got more worked up she leaned closer in to me until she had her head on my shoulder. She started to bite it as I stroked her bottom and back.  At one point she bounced so high she popped off  me but stuffed herself back inside and resumed.

I told her I was coming and she told me not to come yet as she was nearly there.  I had to pull out, though, and ejaculated onto the floor, although, I suspected, with rather less force than earlier in the morning.

"Bugger!" she said, climbing off me and looking grumpy.  "You need to last longer!"

"You need to be less exciting!" I said, pinging one of her suspender straps. She lay down on the floor, spread her legs and asked me to finish her off with my tongue, which I did in a very short time.  She was very creamy.

She left to go back to her room and get changed.  Later, I took her to lunch at the Turl Tavern where she scoffed sausage, chips (with lots of vinegar) and beans. I did think that she was going to eat me out of all my savings at this rate. After lunch we bought The Sunday Times and took it back to my room.  She stopped off at her room and collected a silk dressing gown.  I had never met a girl who wore so much silk. She made me strip and put my dressing gown on and she did the same and we lay on the floor in front of the gas fire reading the papers, stopping to kiss and caress every now and then.

C was lying on her front, reading and I started to kiss her heels; gradually working up her pale, naked calves.  When I reached the hem of her dressing gown I pushed it up and kissed what I knew, from my artist's anatomy, was called the popliteal; the oblong pad at the back of the leg between the calf and the thigh.  I was already stiff by the time I reached the back of her thighs.  She had very fine, orange hairs on her legs.  When I revealed her bottom she parted her thighs and revealed her glistening pussy to me.  I could smell her but she didn't say anything; just kept reading, as I kissed her perfect bottom.  I then ran my fingers up from her feet, tracing the path my lips and tongue had already taken.  Delicately, I slid my finger between her labia and she spread her legs even more.  I gently penetrated her with my index finger and soon had two fingers sliding in and out of her with my thumb brushing her anus.  She started to grind her hips into the rug and was breathing faster.  Her pussy was getting even wetter and I saw that my fingers were getting coated in thick, white cream which was flowing from her.  She came unexpectedly quickly, clamping her legs shut on my hand.  She relaxed after a few seconds and I gently withdrew my fingers. I smelled them and stuck my index finger into my mouth to taste her.  She had twisted around and was looking at me, I realised. She took hold of my hand and pulled it up to her mouth where she sucked both my slick fingers.

"Are you stiff?"

"What do you think?"

"Take your dressing gown off!" She made me sit on the rug, leaning back and supporting myself with my arms.  "Open your legs!" she ordered.  I did so, very conscious of my erection thrusting upwards from the apex of my open thighs.

"It's just gorgeous!" she said, looking at it intently.  "And I love your great big, dark balls!  Never really thought about balls being erotic before but they are!" She cupped them, stroked them and squeezed them. She knelt between my legs and started to kiss and lick them, taking my erection in hand at the same time.  I sat and watched her kiss, lick gobble and salivate over my genitals while I stroked her head and shoulders.  She was soaking me; dribbling and slurping, her hands on my hip bones.  "I want you to..." she began, pulling off me but I started to come almost immediately.  I fountained all over her face and hair. "Eurgh!" she said, making a face. She did not look happy. I asked her what was wrong.  She answered that now she would have to wash her hair and that took hours, given how long it was. She got some tissues out of her bag and wiped her face. She had spunk on her eyelashes.  She seemed annoyed. She sighed and said we should go to the showers. She refused to go down into my basement and so we crossed to hers. She said it wasn't really done to have men in them but as it was mid-afternoon she thought it might be alright as no-one else would be around.. She seemed in a better mood by this time and let me wash her hair and soap her body. She did the same to me and soon got me stiff again.  We tried to do it standing up but the one foot height difference made it virtually impossible.  I had to bend my knees a lot to get inside her but it wasn't comfortable for either of us and she squealed when her back touched the tiles on the wall.

I then learned the full ordeal of her hair washing ritual, with added conditioner stages, endless combing and the fact that she wouldn't use a hairdryer on her hair so it really did take hours to deal with it. I enjoyed brushing her hair, though, a surprisingly erotic and intimate experience as we sat in her room.

"Don't come in my hair again!" she said wagging her finger at me. She said it was best if I came in her mouth which I had been avoiding, as I knew that some girls didn't like it.

There was a knock on the door and it was K, asking us what we had been doing as she had been looking for us all day. C told K about breakfast and lunch out and K looked jealous.  She said her parents were coming up the following weekend and she would get them to take her to the Randolph for lunch.  Considering she was so skinny, K was very interested in what were the best places to eat and although her parents were wealthy she didn't seem to have much more day to day money to spend than the rest of us. K told us that the best three restaurants in Oxford were The Elisabeth (which I never did get to), Les Quats' Saisons, up in Summertown (which had been opened two years before by a then unknown chef called Raymond Blanc) and La Sorbonne, in  a little alley off the High, where Blanc had been the sous chef.

As K told us all this. she sat behind C and brushed her hair for her, which I found even more erotic than me doing it.  K was wearing her skintight jeans and a cashmere cardigan which C took every opportunity to stroke.  I said I was going to get my drawing things as the tableau would make a good picture.  While I was away C had contrived to put her naked leg outside her dressing gown for the purposes of the picture. I told the girls that I wasn't aiming for a likeness, just to be on the safe side, although it actually came out well and both girls were pleased.

Eventually C's hair was brushed to her satisfaction and was well on the way to being dry.  K kissed C on the lips as she handed her hair brush back. "You'll get him stiff!" joked C, pointing at me.

"C!" said K, looking shocked.  K had no idea that I was C's 'boyfriend character', as she referred to those of other girls.  On the next staircase was a Scottish girl, F, who had already hooked up with the bearded (which was unusual then) N much to K's disapproval. "He spends the night there!" she said, scandalised. I couldn't work out how they managed to sleep in the tiny 2' 6" wide bed in the girls' staircases, especially as F was quite a solid girl.

"I bet he'd like to watch us snog!" said C, stroking the back of K's cashmere cardigan.

"Well he's not going to!" said K, primly.  K was much more puritannical than C.  In fact, she was more like what I had expected girls to be like; protective of her virginity and not interested in physical 'goings on' as she called it.  This was a shame as she had long, slim legs, that taut, high bottom and a delicate, dark eyed beauty.  After college, though, C and K did have a brief affair, more as an experiment than anything else, I think.

I gave C my charcoal drawing but said I would have to fix it later in my room as she wouldn't want the smell of fixative in hers.  The three of us went to dinner, where C kept rubbing her thigh against mine while K nattered on, interminably, as ever.

After dinner C told me that next time I took her out I could take her to La Sorbonne. I said that would be nice, maybe next term.  She frowned.  As we had lectures the next morning she said she wouldn't sleep over as she hadn't slept that well.  She asked if I wanted to go back to her room for a "frolic" which I said would be lovely, provided I didn't have to drink her horrible fruit tea. C made herself another disgusting red tea called Fixfrutta Pompadour. She said I needed to get more interesting tea than Brooke Bond, which we had always had at home as it came with collectable picture cards in it, which I loved when I was younger. I was starting to realise that C was really quite bossy. I didn't mind, though, as we were soon naked in her narrow bed and I was entering her hot wet cunt once more.  I had to admit that the light covering of her duvet did enable for more athletic movements than under my tight blankets and she clamped her legs over my back.  I managed to get her to come first,  seconds before pulling out and spattering her tummy again.

There was only just room to lie next to each other afterwards.  I lay on my back and she lay on her side with one leg over my hips.  I asked her if perhaps we should get some Durex.  She supposed we could try it, as it would be nice if I could come inside her.  I knew they had them in the gents by the JCR but she didn't want me to be seen getting them there, as it was next to the law library.  She told me to get them in Boots, which I wasn't very happy about as it meant I had to buy them from a person and not anonymously from a machine.  She said she would get them, although it would cost me in Lion Bars.  I asked her if that was a hint and she put her curled hands up in front of her face, imploringly.

I got dressed and went down to the vending machine.  I had a pee in the gents and looked at the Durex machine.  There was no-one else in there but they were expensive and I didn't have enough change if I was to get chocolate too.  I tried to get two for the price of one Lion Bars from the machine but failed this time. Even one perked up C, however, who was wearing her black sweat top and leggings again, when I returned to her room.  She said her mother called it her 'slug suit'.  She said that she wished that I could sleep over but we had an early lecture the next day and she was going to bed.  I said that I would pick her up at quarter to eight the next morning. We had a chocolatey kiss and I went down the wooden stairs from her room trying to not make too much noise as it was quite late.

Just as I reached the bottom, there was K, having been to see a friend in another college. She wanted to see C but I told her that she was just going to bed. She said she would come up to my room, then, and warm herself in front of my gas fire before bed. K, it soon became apparent, was quite drunk.  She had been given Port by her friend at Worcester and asked if I had any which I didn't.  She said I should get some.  All these girls seemed to be telling me what I should get for their benefit.  She told me that next time she came around I should give her toasted crumpets.  I told her that I didn't have a toaster but she pointed out that the little wire spikes wound around the metal guard of my gas fire were for attaching things to toast on.  I hadn't even noticed them.  K was quite flirty and sat on my lap when I sat in my armchair.  I got an erection (probably because I was stroking her cashmere covered back) and she wriggled around on my crotch.  She never said anything or took it further and I supposed it was just her indulging in some daring, Port-fuelled flirting.  After several cups of tea she gave me a kiss (quite a long one) and left.  Just as she was leaving my room D came through the fire door from the stairs and raised one eyebrow at me as he passed in the corridor.

As I got ready to go down to the freezing bathroom I pondered as to whether I should tell C about K's visit or not.  Best be honest, I though, as K might tell C and then I would be in trouble if I hadn't said something.  I'd tell her on the walk to the law library after breakfast in the morning, I decided.

I got into bed and for the first time, on my own, didn't wear my pyjamas.  I haven't worn them since. I caressed myself and thought of C and K naked together.  I imagined C on her back, her legs spread wantonly as K ate her pussy and I pounded K from behind, thrusting between her taut cheeks and coming inside her.  We must get some Durex I thought, as I ejaculated a few drops into my hand.