Hmmmm

I was a bit of a naughty girl last night, sorry to relate.

Bugger. There was me taking the moral high ground, going to prove to str8 that I wouldn't just jump into bed with any old stranger.

And then I jumped into bed with a stranger.

Bugger.

Fuck.

Damnation and turpitude. (Don't know what that means, but it sounds good.)

(Have you noticed some displacement activity here - delaying the moment when I have to explain all?) I'm transparent, aren't I?

Okay, here's the goss:

Tess and I went to Wetherspoon's. Thought it was best if we had somewhere to talk, so I could grovel and get back into her good books. To begin with she was as frosty as a snowman with chilblains, but she began to take more interest when I got to the sex stuff with Simon: a one track mind, that woman.

"So was he good?"

"Yeah, surprisingly. I wasn't expecting much, but he had his finger on the pulse."

"And other places, I hope."

"You can feel a pulse in lots of different places, you know."

"Said the medical student to the patient."

"Just before he was excommunicated, or whatever they do to naughty doctors."

"Struck off."

"That's the one."

"So a good night was had by all?"

"Mmm, delicious."

"And here was me, little Cinders left at home, playing with her pumpkin."

"Poor poppet."

"You owe me one, bitch." She winked to show she'd forgiven me and slooshed her gin and tonic down in one. "Your round. And then we're going to find some men. My cunt's having a nervous breakdown. It's forgotten what to do."

I laughed and went to the bar. It was still early - not yet nine o'clock - and relatively quiet, but there were lots of students around. I checked the room for some likely fodder for Tess's voracious appetite, rejecting anyone who looked unlikely to be able to cope with the praying mantis of Chase McCabe and her upfront style. That knocked out most of the pub, to be honest.

"Them two over there," she said when I returned, arms rested on the table, hands and head directed towards a couple of young students in a seat at the far end.

"They're gay."

"Are they buggery! You don't know what you're talking about, girl. The one on the right's being giving me the eye for the last five minutes."

"That'll be since you started staring at him, licking your lips, fluttering your eyelashes and pushing your boobs up?"

"Coincidence. Yours is on the right. Bit weedy, but you'll lick him into shape."

"No, not tonight. I'm celibate tonight."

"Like hell you are. You owe me, sister. I spent last night - Friday night! for fuck's sake - sat at home with the husband from hell, bored out of my skull, dreaming of sex, while you were out there, doing it!" She nudged my arm playfully, but there was intent in her delivery. "It's your duty to make sure I get laid tonight. And if that means you do too, so be it."

I knew there was no point arguing with her. Tess is not a woman to be won round in an argument, at least not where sex is concerned. The state of her marriage seemed so fragile that another sex-free weekend for Tess would probably see them in the divorce courts. Not that this would be a bad thing, it seemed to me, but I think Tess liked her home comforts too much to rock the boat completely.

Those poor guys, they didn't stand a chance. Putty in her hands. Jake and Calum, they were called, business studies students whose dual aims in life appeared to be to become richer than Richard Branson and to fuck more women than Rod Stewart. Jake was the handsome one and - all modesty aside - you would have expected him to be paired up with me. Not that I'm more attractive than Tess, necessarily, but I do have the advantage of ten years on her. She has the advantage over me, though, of being a sexual predator who takes no prisoners. So she took the prize and I was left with his mate.

Calum was mid-twenties, Scottish and polite. Not sure what else there is to say about him. He seemed as uncomfortable with the situation as I was, and after Jake and Tess had peeled off in the direction of Jake's flat we were left alone, floundering amid a lack of empathy, common interest or desire.

I took him home and made coffee. We joked about what Tess and Jake were up to, that being the only thing we had in common, and kissed desultorily. It wasn't really going anywhere. His hands were on my tits, mine were on my thighs. I could see his hard-on stretched against his jeans, but wasn't much interested. Finally, he broke the kiss.

"D'you want to go to bed?" he asked.

"To be honest, I don't really. Sorry."

"No, didn't think you did."

"D'you mind?"

"No, not at all." The disappointment in his voice was evident. He smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry." I nodded at his crotch. "I got you all excited." He looked away, embarrassed. I ran my palm across the bulge in his jeans. "Shall I look after that, at least?" I felt his cock jerk through the fabric, giving silent assent to my offer. Calum said nothing. "I don't mind, really. I'd like to."

Sometimes, I think I'm just a guilt whore.

I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, sliding my fingers inside and running them across his boxers, feeling the shape of his cock beneath. He wiggled on the settee and I pulled his jeans down to his knees, fastening my hand round his cock and assessing it shape. Nice, circumcised, quite small buit reasonably chunky. I looked into his eyes and slid my hand under the waistband of his boxers, gripping my fingers round his shaft and squeezing.

"Okay?" I asked. He nodded, and I eased his boxers down, revealing his erect cock. He had remarkably sparse hair - it wasn't trimmed or anything, there just wasn't much of it. It helped make him appear bigger, and it was a nice cock, in truth. I fixed my grip around his shaft and began to wank him, slowly and gently, feeling him harden with each stroke until his purple helmet was gleaming and taut, looking ready to burst.

I swapped over and used my left hand, freeing my right to fondle his balls and scratch my nails over his thighs. Parting his legs, I slid my hand down and, cupping my fingers, grazed my nails gently from his arse to his balls. He seemed to like that, his shaft jerking rhythmically in my hand.

My left hand began to tire, so I got to my knees between his legs and let my right hand take the lead again. I could easily make a fist around his shaft and wank him with my whole hand, but I liked taking him between thumb and forefinger and using the softest of motions. That kept him hard and caused him to jerk periodically, the jerks becoming increasingly severe until his whole hips began to move.

I spent about ten minutes wanking him, and while he was clearly enjoying it, he showed no signs of coming. I got the feeling he was holding out for something else. Call me naive, but only gradually did I realise what it was. I was crouched between his legs, my face a few inches from his crotch, and if I lowered my head only slightly I would be hovering over his dick.

I did. He groaned encouragingly and I licked my lips, readying myself for action. His glans was swollen and gleaming, his little pee-hole already leaking pre-cum. I fell gently towards it and slid it into my mouth, instantly feeling his heat and excitement. I closed my mouth around him, forming a vacuum, sucking my cheeks in and dragging my tongue across his sensitive head. He moaned loudly, his hand moving to hold the back of my neck. Exerting minimal pressure, he pushed me down and I felt the entire length of his cock slide into my mouth. I remained like that for a moment, my throat plugged by his cock, nose resting against his pubes. He wasn't that long and it wasn't uncomfortable, but even so it's difficult to maintain that position for too long without gagging.

Resisting the pressure of his hand, I raised my head, then lowered and raised it again, and began to work a steady rhythm on his cock, sliding it in and out of my mouth, fucking him with my lips and teeth and tongue, pressing his shaft down my throat, then up, then down again. All the time I sucked hard, grazing the inside of my cheeks against his length, creating continuous pressure on him. Meanwhile, I wanked him with my hand, while the other hand stroked and grazed his balls.

I sucked for five minutes or so, feeling him grow increasingly tense, his cock becoming ever harder. The saltiness of his pre-cum filled my mouth, giving a foretaste of what was to come, and as I sensed him getting close I tightened the grip of my fingers round his shaft and began to speed up. He was moaning lightly, stretched back on the settee, thrusting his hips towards me and guiding my head on his cock.

Sucking as hard as I could and wanking furiously, I finally felt him spasm beneath me and he cried out as the first bolt of spunk fired against my tongue. After a pause which seemed to last for ever, another, larger spurt and another burst out, flying far down my throat. Calum was shouting, his whole body shaking, as he fired another three or four jets into me and finally his cock started to shudder and jerk, then subside into rest.

I swallowed, looked up and smiled. "Okay?"

"Fantastic. Thanks."

Bugger it. I didn't mean to do that.

:-(