Friday, 21 April 2017

1980: Teasing and Temptation

Dramatis personæ 

In this episode:

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

Men at College
D, a law student with the room next to mine

Men from elsewhere 
Dobs, a former schoolmate of mine at another college

The Christmas holiday after my first term at Oxford wasn't as enjoyable as I had thought it would be.  It was certainly nice to get a break from the work but I was so exhausted that I seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time asleep.  I had thought, at the beginning of term, that my first vacation would be good, as I caught up with my family but I hadn't counted on missing my little companion, C.  Well, I hadn't contemplated even having a little companion when I first went up to Oxford..  I missed picking her up for breakfast every morning and walking to the law library.  I missed having lunch together and moaning about our curious tutors or discussing what K was up to.  I even missed, a bit, her endless chat about the clothes she was making and how stressed she got if things didn't go right.  She wrote to me on 9th January, enclosing a birthday card saying how she was having problems setting the sleeves on a blouse she was making.  She said that I was lucky to get a card at all, as her mother had forgotten her birthday three years in a row.  She was not from a happy family and, in retrospect, I think she was desperate for affection, love and appreciation; something that her academic success gave her, at least.  Our families both consisted of a mother and sister only but her sister was ten years older and married and her mother was distant and critical, as I later found out when I met her.  

What I really missed, of course was her body and the sex.  During the holiday, my small number of men's magazines weren't taken from the space under my bottom draw, where I stored them, as I didn't need them as an aid to arousal.  I just thought about C's orange pussy, her perky tits with those lovely, suckable nipples. The memory of the sparse orange hair under her arms, her deep belly button, round bottom and cute dimples on her back were all I needed.  Above all, her pink and juicy cunt with those delicate protruding lips and her clitoris, which used to get so stiff that the tip emerged from her hood like the end of a baby's finger.  I had drawn a picture of her parts in coloured pencil towards the end of term and I gazed at it and tried to recall her musky smell, as I lay on my carpet, stiff with frustration.

C was frustrated too and said how she 'missed your touch all over my body, especially between my legs.'   She was staying at her sister's house in Birmingham while her mother prepared to move south to a town much closer to where I lived.  At Easter it would be much easier to see each other during the vacation.  She had to share a bed with her mother which meant she couldn't 'writhe around in bed, pleasuring myself and thinking of you.'  She had explained that she had taken to caressing herself in the bath and that we must have a bath together as soon as we got back on 17th January.  This letter helped my masturbation fantasies no-end.  

I couldn't write back in similar vein, as she insisted on reading my letters to her mother, oddly.  It was typical of C that she hadn't told her mother my name,so I was referred to as 'thingy' in her house.  She did tell me off for writing about K too much in her letter, as her mother didn't approve of my having been to K's house as it didn't accord with her views of what young love (a warning bell at that word) should be about.

I had been to see K the week before C's letter arrived.  We both wanted to see the Post-Impressionists exhibition at the Royal Academy and I could easily have made it a day trip into London but K invited me to dinner and to stay over at her house in West London.  K only lived about fifteen miles away but such is the nature of public transport in London that I had to get the train into the centre of London and the tube back out again. K's family's house was a large, three storey Edwardian brick pile in an expensive area.  Her father was a well known specialist lawyer but her mother had died when K was a child and he had remarried.  It meant that there was a women in the house who was the right age to be K's mother but whom she called by her first name, which felt a bit strange to me.  The four of us had a nice dinner and they were all as chatty as K.  K was, essentially, an only child, although she had a half brother who she didn't see, as he lived abroad.

"You 're the first young man K has brought home!" said K's stepmother, to K's mortification.

"He's not a boyfriend character!" said K, blushing.

"Why not?" asked K's stepmother.  "He looks very suitable!"

After the rest of the family went to bed, K and I stayed up chatting.  K apologised for her stepmother and explained that she was desperate for her to get a nice boyfriend at Oxford 'provided he doesn't interfere with your studies'.  K said the problem with boys was that if you got friendly with them they all thought you wanted to do disgusting things which, of course, she didn't.  She then went on to attack the characters of all the first year couples she was aware of and said how nice it was that C and I were just good friends, which was much more civilised.  I couldn't believe that she still hadn't worked out C and my relationship.  Perhaps she saw what she wanted to see, which was what she wanted for herself. A close friend but no disgusting behaviour.  Despite all her acquaintances I thought that perhaps she was quite lonely. I got a peck on the cheek last thing and went to bed thinking about K undressing and slightly disappointed that she hadn't tried anything on.  She seemed less tactile than when she was at College. 

The next morning I was scandalised, as I was served eggs and bacon for breakfast, which the rest of the familly ate too, even though they were Jewish.  As we walked around the Post Impressionist exhibition at the Royal Academy the next day K said that if her grandmother was there they called bacon 'Danish fish'.

I went home that afternoon and actually got a tentative kiss on the lips from K.  I patted her taut behind as we had a goodbye hug and said that I would see her the following week back in Oxford.  I had a lot of revision to do but she had done her first year exam at the end of the first term so could enjoy her holiday.

My mother and sister dropped me back at College on the Saturday before the start of term.  We went out to lunch as usual and then back to my room for tea.  I had just poured the tea, demonstrating my new teapot, when there was a knock on the door.  It was C.  My mother was nice to her and my sister was...neutral ,until it was time for them to go.

"So nice to meet the latest girlfriend," my sister said to C, as C and I walked my mother and sister to the College main entrance,  to see them off.

"Latest girlfriend?" asked C, pointedly, as we walked back to my room.  "I thought I was the first!"

"First proper one!" I said.


As soon as we closed the door into my room we were all over each other, desperately pulling each other's clothes off, as I pressed her up against the door, my hand up her skirt and inside her knickers.  She was hot and wet.  As soon as we were naked, I picked her up, carried her into my bedroom and tossed her onto the bed.

"Yes!" she gasped. "Do it!" This was not the time for a gentle, get to know each other again, exploration.  I pushed her thighs apart and plunged right up into her hot wetness.  "Fuck!" she cried.  She pulled her knees right up to her shoulders and I just hammered into her until I was coming inside her which did not, I admit, take very long at all.  "I could feel that one!" she said as I lay on top of her.  "Spurting!   Terrific!"  I rolled off her and she made me lie on my back.  She sat astride my head, for the first time, and got me to lick her while she wriggled about.  I pulled her bottom cheeks apart and rubbed her anus.  She grabbed my finger and pressed my fingertip against her hole. The end of my finger slipped inside her rectum.  It was moist but felt nice.  It was empty, I was slightly relived to discover. I pushed more of my finger in and started to slide it in and out of her, as I lapped away at her dripping pussy. She didn't take very long, either, and I could feel her juices flooding over my chin.  She lay down on top of me and licked my face.  "This term we are going to do exciting sexual things we haven't done before!" she declared.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like just now.  Fingering my arsehole.  That was good.  But we mustn't tell the other what we plan.  It has to be a surprise!"

C was a great fan of being spontaneous.  I was not.  I liked to plan everything out.  Spontaneity, I thought, often led to disappointment, when something you decided to do didn't work out.  C and I had decided, spontaneously, to go to a film at the Penultimate Picture Palace at the end of the previous term.  This was one of the oldest cinemas in Britain but was tiny and only had seats for a couple of dozen people.  The projectionist had to climb a ladder from the pavement to get into the projection booth.  It was quite a long walk from college, over Magdalen Bridge. When we got there we couldn't get in and had to walk all the way back.  I said we should have booked (I'm not sure you actually could) or, at least, left earlier but C was fiddling with her clothes for ages.

"That sounds good!" I said. desperately wondering what this might involve and how I could impress her.  She needed constant impressing, as much as she needed constant reassurance about herself.  I decided that, just as I was getting comfortable with her, she had added a level of stress to our relationship.

Even more stress was added by the amount of work we had to do.  We had a short collection (exam) as soon as we got back but had four proper exams to do that term.  We had also started Constitutional Law, a new subject. C and I were appalled to discover that one of the cases we had to read was 240 pages long.  Even worse, I discovered that C was to be my tutorial partner for the subject, which hadn't happened before.  C was very good at law and I was barely holding my own (I wished I had done History instead, until I heard what K had to put up with - she really hated the Venerable Bede).  Even worse, our tutor was a man C really fancied. (for his brain, largely, he was not an attractive man).  We stood outside his door at the beginning of the second week, waiting for our first tutorial.  We had both had to write essays and one of us would have to read their's out.

"I'm not wearing any knickers!" said C, just as we were about to go in.  I wan't sure if this was part of her spice up our sex life initiative or whether she was trying to put me off during the tutorial.  We sat in a triangle formation with the tutor in his study and he asked me to read my essay.  This was just what I didn't want, in the first tutorial of a new subject.  This tutor had been our criminal law tutor and we had not got on.  I started to read and tried to completely ignore the presence of C, sat eighteen inches away.  She didn't help by staring at me throughout the forty minutes it took me to read my essay.  Fortunately, the tutor looked up at the ceiling most of the time, his fingers steepled.  I looked at C about half way through to see if I could get her to stop staring at me and she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes, distractingly.  She then wriggled in her chair so as to remind me of her knickerless state, no doubt.  I got to the end of my essay and looked at the tutor who was still staring at the ceiling.  I felt C's foot brush my ankle.

"That.  Was very good!" said my tutor, at last, unexpectedly.  "Impressive, in fact. What did you think of it C? he asked.

"Oh!" she said looking flustered.  She made a few comments and then we discussed the next week's essay.  I couldn't wait to get out of the tutorial.

"Good boy!" said C, as if I was a dog that had just performed an unexpected trick. "Reward before lunch!"  We crossed the small paved area between the tutor's staircase and hers and went straight up to her room. She unzipped my trousers and got me to lie on the bed with my feet on the floor as we "hadn't got time for undressing".  She pulled up her skirt and sat down on me; bouncing away, my trousers still only down to my knees.  "Good boy!  Clever boy!" she said as I spurted up inside her again. She hopped off, wiped herself between the legs and pulled her skirt down.  "Right!  Lunch!"  she said.  The whole episode had only lasted about five minutes.  I preferred to take my time but she liked these 'quickies'.  We sat with some of the other lawyers and C insisted on telling them all how much my essay had been appreciated by the tutor, much to my embarrassment.

A couple of days later we decided to go shopping in the afternoon and I bought her a bag of chocolate Brazil nuts in Selfridges, which she scoffed before we got back.  I got some more Jacksons tea and we bought the Oxford Mail to see what was on at the cinema.  The Penultimate Picture Palace sometimes showed late night erotic films and she thought we ought to go to one together but there was nothing on that week.

"Did you bring your sexy magazine back with you?" she asked suddenly, when we had got back to my room.  I remembered that she had wanted me to bring one of my Men Only's back for her to look at.  I had brought back my favourite, Volume 41 number 5, which I had found on the train while at school. She lay on the floor in front of the gas fire and started to look at it while I made some tea.  She leafed through it slowly, looking at the articles and stories and lingering over the pictorials.  She decided that it was a much better magazine than Penthouse or Playboy.  There were pieces on female orgasms and foreplay, written by women, which she said she would read back in her room. She had her hand up under her skirt as she lay on the floor and was patently gently caressing herself as she looked at all the girls with spread legs.  Her favourite was the lesbian set, Love All, Sauna or Later which depicted three girls in the sauna (naturally).  "Do you wank when you look at pictures like this?" she asked, suddenly.

"Sometimes." I admitted,  "I think that's what they are for."  Neither of us were ashamed about masturbating and both admitted to doing it.

"Wank for me now!"

"Now?" I said.  It was the not very romantic time of about four in the afternoon.

"Yes. Lie on the floor and look at the magazine and wank!"  She stood up and sat in my armchair in front of the window.  I unzipped my jeans.  "Take everything off!" she insisted.  She pulled her skirt up to show me her pussy and told me to do it over the sauna pictorial.  This was quite a strange experience as I was very conscious of being naked and exposed in front of her. She had dropped her  long skirt back over her legs but had a hand underneath it and was almost certainly diddling herself.  I took myself in hand and started rather tentatively but C encouraged me with dirty talk.  My mnd became a whirl of the images of the girls in Men Only's open thighs,, C fiddling with herself under her skirt and my feeling of complete exposure.  "Come for me!  Come! Spurt!" encouraged C.  I rapidly imcreased my speed.

"It's coming!" I said.  She dropped off my chair onto her knees and knelt behind me.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she said fingering my bottom.  Fortunately I remembered to push my precious magazine to one side but didn't have time to catch my emissions, so spurted all over the rug.  It was quite a big one.  C rolled me onto my back and sucked me into her mouth before I deflated.  I took her right hand and sucked at her fingers which did, indeed, taste of cunt.  "Another good one!  You have to think of the next experience!" she said.  Oh no, I thought.  C disappeared with my magazine to read in bed later.  We tended not to sleep together during the week but saved it for Friday and Saturday.  I never slept in her bed as it was too small.  We could both fit in it but it was a foot narrower than my bed so we just used if for quickies,

Several weeks into term C's sister came down to see her from Birmingham.  She was more than ten years older than C and had two children.  C talked about her a lot and so I was expecting to meet her but no, C never bothered to seek me out.  Given I was only known as 'thingy' to C's mother I realised that I had a rather low profile with her family.  C's sister took her out for dinner at La Sorbonne, considered one of the best restaurants in Oxford.  Since K had told us about the place C and I had planned to go there together, perhaps after our exams that term.  I didn't begrudge her going with her sister, though, although she did talk about it endlessly afterwards, especially to K.

K was not looking well, we both agreed.  Skinny to begin with, she seemed to be getting even thinner and we didn't see her so often in hall for dinner.  C thought she might be getting to be anorexic and suggested we both try and get her to eat something.  We started ensuring we invited her to tea a lot and bought cakes and scones, which we attempted to stuff down her.  K's stepmother was obviously worried about her too and kept sending her slim chocolate bars in her weekly letters.  C and I usually had lunch in the place next to the law library but a couple of days a week we arranged to meet K for lunch, who usually worked in the nearby Radcliffe Camera,  It enabled us to ensure that K ate something at least; although when she was with us she seemed to eat normally.  C thought that K probably went and made herself throw up afterwards, as that was what anorexics did.  I had never heard of such a thing and could not contemplate someone who didn't want to eat.

I was out and about in the covered market one day when I saw a shop selling large feathers.  I think they were for people who wanted to make them into quill pens but I wondered if I could use one on C. I had an idea and went into Debenhams and got some plain black cloth.  Maybe this sex exploration thing could be fun, I thought.

After hall that evening I stood C in front of the fire and put the blindfold on her. She was happy and excited and I could smell her musky scent as I undressed her.  She had taken to wearing thigh-length socks under her long skirts.  Although they were definitely socks, made from raspberry and white coloured speckled wool, she held them up with suspender belt.  She had flashed these at me once before, in the law library but this was the first time I had had the opportunity to inspect them up close.   decided to remove her suspender belt but leave her just standing there in her long socks.

"Bend over and gab your ankles!" I ordered her.  She did and presented her pink parts nestled in her orange fluff.  I knelt down and kissed her bottom.  She giggled.  I then stood up, stepped back, brought my hand up and spanked her as hard as I could.

"Shit!" she cried.  I knelt down and kissed the other cheek.  She wriggled slightly in anticipation before I spanked her again. This went on yntil her bottom was appreciably pink and her smell was very strong.  I told her she could stand up and she asked if she could take the blindfold off but I told her no.  I made her lie on her tummy on the floor in front of my gas fire.  I opened my desk drawer and took out one of the feathers I had bought.  I ran it down her spine and tickled her dimples with it.

"What's that?" she asked,

"Guess!" I said as I ran the feather down the back of her thighs, the pale hair on her legs glistening in the light of the gas fire.  I tickled her toes with it then moved the stiff plume up inside one thigh, gently parting her legs with my other hand.  I brought the feather up to the top of her thighs and then stroked her bottom with the edge of it.  I brought it down, over her anus and perineum and flicked it over her now pink parts.  I parted her labia and tickled her pee hole with the tip of the fetaher.  She emitted  a little moan.   I was surprised that she hadn't guessed what it was yet, "It's not a comb, is it.? Too soft. Too hard for a piece of fabric."  I made her roll over on top her back and used it on her hip bones and belly button.  I started to alternate kissing her with using the feather.  I rubbed the tips of her pink nipples with it and ran it across the skin on the outside of her breasts which was, other than her pussy, the most sensitive part of her body.  This made her squirm about and spread her legs, wantonly.  I stood up and quickly stripped off before setting to work with the feather again.  I was stiff as a pole but wanted to keep teasing her.  "Is it a piece of leather?" she asked. I tickled her clitoris. "God!" I kept tickling it.  "It's too much!" she gasped, grabbing my wrist.  I tossed the feather to one side, lay on top of her and thrust up inside her,  Her legs went straight over my back and she pushed back with the same energy I was expending on her.  We both came almost immediately but I kept going until I was too flaccid to continue.  She was really wet and I thought she might be having her period again but she was just really, really excited.  I kissed her on the lips, pulled her blindfold off and showed her the feather.  She berated herself for being too stupid to guess what it was and praised me for being imaginative. She was so pleased that she went back to her room, got her contact lens storage pots and slept over, even though it was mid week.  We had a nice cuddle and the next morning she sucked me off before breakfast.

The following week I went to pick her up before breakfast and the library and found her still dressed in her white lacy underwear.  "I need to change my tampax." she said.

"I'll wait!" I said, expecting her to go to the bathroom, Instead, she cocked her leg slightly by bending a knee, pushed the crotch of her knickers aside and pulled it our before dropping it straight into the bin.  I was appalled.  It wasn't that I was unfamiliar with these by now.  I was used to the little white cord emerging from her cunt for a week a month.  I'd even pulled one out myself when we wanted to have sex during her period (she liked to have sex a lot during her period). No, it was something else.  "Aren't they supposed to go into a special container in the bathroom?  What would your scout think when he has to empty the bin?"

"He won't mind.  He adores me.  Everyone adores me!" she said, putting a new tampax in and patting the crotch of her knickers afterwards.  "I'm adorable!"   I shook my head but she kissed me, pulled on her purple velvet trousers and fluffy cream jumper and led me down to breakfast, rolling her hips and wiggling her bottom for me as she walked in front of me.  She really did have a fine posterior.

In the second half of term the workload had got insane.  There was no opportunity for any time off at the weekends and we spent fourteen hours a day in the library.  Added to this, we had to start looking at rooms for the second year.  Most of these were in an annex next to the Oxford Union, a five minute walk from College.  I knew these as I had stayed in one for interview.  There were also a number of rooms available in the main part of College.  It was a ballot though; you couldn't choose.  Unlike today, all the rooms cost the same amount, they were not price banded, depending on size and facilities.  I had gone over to see a school friend at Lady Margaret Hall and was staggered to find that he had an en suite bathroom.  At least the rooms in the annex had wash basins.

C's mother had now moved south to a house only 35 miles from Oxford.  When the work eased off a bit to allow for revision time, C went home one weekend to help her mother unpack.  She had left Wednesday early evening after her tutorial.  K came around to see me and said she didn't fancy dinner. which was grapefruit juice, jugged hare (even in the early eighties this was old fashioned) and mushrooms on toast as a savoury.  I had had some money come through from an investment my mother had made on my behalf so we went to Sweeney Todd's pizza restaurant.  We drank a bottle of wine and K got quite tiddly.  She did eat, at least, and only left one slice of pizza.  We walked back to College arm in arm and, unlike C, she did not disengage as we got back to College and she even gave me a spontaneous kiss as we walked through the quad leading to her room (the one above C's).  She had a coffee and I had a tea (we were too mean to spend money on those in the restaurant) and she sat on my lap and told me how homesick she was, how the work was causing her stress and that she was tired all the time.  I talked to her for several hours and she cried a lot but then cheered up after I told her how sweet and lovely she was. She put her arms around me and I kissed the top of her head.  She was, as I later discovered. a very tactile girl and just needed a lot of hugs.  I thought I better tell C this when she returned as she would enjoy giving her hugs, I thought.

The following day we discovered that dinner was liver and bacon which neither K and I fancied. "I'm going to take you to dinner!" she sai,d as we had breakfast together in Hall before disappearing to our respective libraries.  I had to take good notes on the lecture that morning for C.  She told me that they had to be legible.  Legible handwriting was not a particular strength of mone.  Even now I have trouble reading my own handwriting. 'His handwriting is not so much spidery as like a scorpion on a drunken orgy', one of my teachers wrote in  a school report.  I concentrated very hard on getting the lecture notes done as legibly as I could but when I looked at them at lunchtime I realised I would have to re-write them for C.  No photocopiers or scanners then!

"I've booked dinner!" said K brightly, when I ran into her coming out of the Radcliffe Camera on my way back from the law library.  "Dress smartly!" she said.  She wouldn't tell me where we were going and I was baffled as to what to wear.  I only had jeans and jumpers or my suit, which I had got for matriculation. Would a suit be too much?  I hadn't worn it except for matriculation.   I had bought a new blue shirt and had a Pierre Cardin tie my mother had got me 'in case you need it'.   I got dressed in it and looked at myself in the mirror which was inside the wardrobe door.  Was I over-dressed?  I felt it.  But what if K was taking me to The Randolph Hotel?  That would be far too expensive, though.  But if we were going to Sweeney Todd's or Burgerland she wouldn't have told me to dress smartly.

When I turned up to collect her from her room (having had to walk past C's room and feeling just a twinge of guilt that she wasn't joining us) I was glad I had dressed up.  K was wearing an expensive looking, silver, silk dress (she lived in jeans, usually) and had full make-up on (also unusual).  She had replaced her usual pearls (as C had noted they were really expensive wild pearls not cultured ones) with a platinum necklace with emeralds in it.  I was glad I had worn my suit.

"Perfect!" she said to me taking my hands. "I'd give you a kiss but I don't want to smudge my lipstick!"  We left college arm in arm again, just before formal hall started, so were observed by quite a few people.  It was nice to be seen with such a lovely girl and I wished that C wasn't so odd about it. We crossed the High and dipped down a tiny little alley next to an ancient looking building.  I realised that this was the fabled (and expensive) French restaurant La Sorbonne, where Raymond Blanc had been the chef until recently, when he had set up his even more expensive restaurnt up in Summertown.

"You can't take me here!" I said to K.

"I can and I will!" she said, firmly.

La Sorbonne was a prototypical French restaurant.  All the staff were French and so, it seemed, were many of the customers.  I had a lot of experience of French restaurants as when I was younger we used to holiday in a house down in the south of France and my father took three days to drive there (this was before there were autoroutes down there) stopping in different hotels every time so we could try out the restaurants.  I wasn't intimidated by French menus but, as we sat down, I realised that I was nervous anyway, as it was the first time I had been out with a girl in a proper restaurant.

"I'll pay half!" I said, noting the fact that the main courses were up to £5 each, compared to the 64p we paid for a three course dinner at college.

"You will not!" said K.

"I'll pay for the wine!" I said, to which she acceded.

The restaurant was about as romantic as you could imagine, entirely candlelit and full of couples.  K looked lovely and relaxed, especially after a couple of glasses of Côtes du Rhône.  "I'm wearing my new silk stockings for you!" she said, rubbing the top of her foot against my calf.  I should have got alarmed, as although I found her desirable, especially that evening, I didn't want to upset C or, indeed, C and K's friendship.

"I don't think you should do that, as C isn't here!" I said. In retrospect I don't know if I was genuinely gently rebuffing her or just strengthening a deniable position on my part.

"She wouldn't mind!  We sort of share you anyway!" she answered, somehow managing to eat French onion soup elegantly. She still seemed to be under the impression that C and I were 'just good friends'.   I wanted to tell her but I knew C would be furious.  I had talked to my old school friend Dobs about C at length , earlier that term, and his opinion was that she was just with me until she got a better offer, which confirmed my own thoughts somewhat.  Dobs had also met a girl very early on in the first term and they were still together (they are still together, to this day).

We both had Boeuf Bourguignon, which I had learned to cook at home and which was as good (although not better!) than the ones my father used to cook.  The bill for the two of us, with wine was pushing £50 or nearly as much as a whole term's food at college.  Still, it was worth it and K looked happy and well for the first time in weeks.  K had been home the week before and had a series of blood tests as her family were so worried bout her health.  There wasn't anything really wrong with her but she was very anaemic, it turned out, and was put on supplements and told to eat spinach.  This seemed like a nightmare prescription  to me.  When I was six I was very ill with a dangerous health condition and had to spend three weeks in hospital in isolation.  I was fed tinned spinach at every meal and, as a result, wouldn't touch the stuff again until the late eighties when I had it in Italy and found that serving it in butter and garlic helped the flavour enormously.

When we got back to college at about 10.30 K had her arm around my waist as we strolled around the quad. D, the law student in the room next to mind, who seemed to dog my steps like a KGB spy, looked at me and raised an eyebrow. K stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the lips.  D had walked past us but I wondered if he had heard us.  K asked me to go up to her room for coffee.I said no thanks. As we stood at the foot of her and C's staircase she looked me in the eyes and invited me again.  Her pupils were dilated, her lips were parted, I could smell her expensive perfume (Joy).  I thought about her long slim legs in her silk stockings and the way her dress seemed to slither across her delicate form like liquid mercury. I said that I had had a wonderful evening but I needed to be up early for revision before lectures as my exams were the following week.  This were proper university exams not just internal college ones.  We had four papers in all and you had to pass them to remain at the university.  She tried again and put her hands on my hips and stood on tip toe for another kiss. I could here someone thumping down the wooden stairs above so firmly but gently pushed her away.  Anyway, I am sure she would not be interested in 'physical ghastlinesss'.  Many years later she told me that she was planning to seduce me if I had gone upstairs, not that I would have needed much seducing.

I went back to my room with a raging erection, congratulating myself on my high moral stance and masturbated thinking of K just wearing her silk stockings. K told me, years later, that she had had a shower and massaged her groin with her loofah.

That weekend I worked hard on my revision and wrote up my lecture notes legibly for C.  She arrived back Sunday evening after dinner had been served. We had Camembert and rolls in my room and she told me all about her new house and how easy it would be to see each other over the Easter break.  We would be on the same train line, so it couldn't be easier.  We had a nice gentle one in bed and she slept over.  I woke before her and spent some time in bed looking at her sweet little face.  I was looking forward to the Easter break and spending as much time as possible with her.  It was not to be.

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 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 Eastern 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 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.