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.

5 comments:

  1. Another delicious read!! Great times, huh?

    "Several cups of tea?" I was meaning to ask about that in the episode when A first stayed over...Black tea? Is it really light so thay you can drink several cups?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. We tend to only drink black tea with milk in Britain. It depends how strong you make it. AT that time I liked mine weak sp the caffeine effect wasn't to strong. I drink ten or 12 big mugs a day. At college, in the evenings, we would drink tea constantly, mug after mug!

      Delete
    2. Triple P can drink tea like you wouldn't believe!

      Delete
  2. Another masterly episode! I'm waiting for the return of A!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. October 1980! A year on from this episode!

      Delete