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 WARNING: This is a story of pure fiction, involving the sexual contact
between a female and an adult male.  If this subject offends you, close
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All names are purely fictional and any similarity to any person living
or dead is coincidental.
   London Days 3: Anna
   By Romany
   (M/teen girl, oral)
   I was on a sabbatical in London early in 1978 following graduation from
college.  I opted to travel to the UK for a year.  I had spent two months
in a rather squalid (grotty as the English would say) apartment complex; or
block of flats as it was called here in the UK.  After I had started
working for a removal company, I had been offered a room in a nicely
revamped Victorian house owned by my boss Clive.  The downstairs was really
half the original house partitioned off with a small living room; kitchen
off the living area and the bathroom off the kitchen.  The two bedrooms
were off the main entrance passage from the front door.  At one time there
would have been internal stairs leading to the first floor but these were
now on the other side of a main dividing wall partitioning the original
house, and a separate external door opened straight to the stairs and to
the first floor office used occasionally by Clive.  From this level there
was another flight of stairs to an attic room upstairs.  This room Clive
offered to me on the understanding I could share the common areas of the
downstairs flat.  There were two English couples with me; Claire and Pete
and Roslyn and Kurt.  Kurt and Pete also worked for Clive and had no issue
with me as a detached flatmate.  I had bought a 1969 VW Kombi van with the
view to traveling through Europe in the summer.  I would advertise for
companions to share the cost in the Australasian Express.  There was a
ready supply of expats from the former British dominions of Canada,
Australia and New Zealand; keen to use their `Mother Country' as a base,
just like I was, to travel Europe.
   I was working on the van which needed a good clean inside.  I noted that
the back seat wasn't properly attached and there was quite a bit of rust
over the engine compartment behind the seat.  For the most part, the
vehicle was in quite good order and at least it ran well.  I had run an
extension cable out the front door of the house from my roommates Claire
and Pete's room and I was merrily vacuuming the back of the vehicle; idly
pondering the various ranges of panties that I noted strewn beside their
bed as I sneaked in to use the AC outlet closest to the front door.  I
wondered why Claire was so messy when she was always so smartly dressed;
and whether or not the underwear was clean or needing washed.  I was
leaning into the side door with the vacuum cleaner sucking away merrily
when I felt pressure on my back and jumped, startled that someone had come
up close behind me.  I pulled back and turned to see this very attractive
school girl standing before me with a grin on her face.
   "Whoops, sorry...I frightened you," she said and giggled.
   She must have been about fifteen or sixteen, and wore predominantly blue
tartan pleated skirt and a white blouse with a navy blue blazer.  She had a
mid-shin length gray gabardine raincoat and her hands were jammed in the
pockets with the coat hanging open.  I noted firm breasts and when I
finally took my eyes off them, nestled in a just-visible bra behind the
white blouse, I looked at her face and drank in her dark eyes, olive
complexion and perfect teeth; grinning at me as I was obviously rattled by
her proximity.
   "You OK?" she asked with the broad grin creasing her cheeks revealing a
cute dimple on her left side.
   "Ah yeah, yeah, sorry; you startled me," I mumbled.
   I was still taken aback by her good looks and her being inside my
personal space.  She knew I had quickly checked her out.  Nice legs to. 
The skirt was mid thigh; long enough to be alluring without being too short
to appear slutty.  She wore white bobby sox that were pulled up smooth
against her lower leg, and practical lace up black shoes.  The overall
package was youthful beauty personified.  Just on the cusp of womanhood
with a hint of voluptuousness as she was not petite, yet perfectly
proportioned for her approximate five feet eight height.
   "Yes I did," she chuckled.  "Sorry, but I was just being nosey.  What
are you doing?" she continued.
   "Vacuuming," I said blankly.
   "I can see that dopey," she said in mock exasperation.  "I meant what
are you doing with the van?" she said peering inside.
   "I'm getting it ready to go around Europe in a few weeks," I explained.
"Hook up with one or two fellow travelers to share the gas and food; and
visit as many European countries as I can in about two months," I said
relating my plans.
   She turned and looked at me as I spoke.  She was studying my mouth as I
talked.
   "You're a Yank aren't you," she said bluntly.
   I felt she was disappointed with my being American.
   "Guilty," I said simply and grinned half apologetically.
   "That's Ok," she said and nudged my hip with the hand in her pocket;
almost as a `don't worry, you can't help' type of gesture.  "I'll still
talk to you."
   She looked at the disheveled state of the back seat and grimaced.
   "A bit of work to do then?" she said, stating the obvious.
   "Yep.  It's a bit rickety," I said ruefully.
   "It's a bit of a banger then," she said appearing knowledgeable about
the van.
   "Actually, no.  It runs pretty darn well," I said.
   The Brits referred to cars that were plagued with problems as `bangers'.
They also called sausages bangers.  I was very confused about the English
and their language.  It wasn't always what it seemed.
   "Can I come," she said looking into the back once more.
   "I don't know, can you?" I said with a grin.
   To my surprise, she lightly kicked me in the shin.  Just enough for me
to know it without hurting me.
   "Dirty bugger," she said and scowled at me.  "I mean can I come to
Europe."
   I was flabbergasted as she seemed serious.
   "You?  Really?  Are you sure?  I stammered.
   She laughed teasingly at my apparent befuddlement.
   "Yeah of course.  We could go just the two of us.  I haven't got any
money but I could make myself useful in other ways," she giggled and gave
me an over emphasized wink.
   She was teasing me.  My look of optimism must have waned as I twigged
she was teasing and she burst out laughing.
   "Your face, cor you should see it," she laughed.  "Thought you were up
for a bit, did you?" she guffawed at my little boy lost expression.
   I felt acutely embarrassed about my lack of cool.  I stood like a dummy
and she smiled at me.
   "So when can you take me for a ride in it?" she said with a twinkle in
her eye.
   "Any time you like," I answered with a grin, my composure returning.
   "There's a nice pub on the Heath," she offered.  "I don't have any
trouble getting in there," she continued anticipating I was thinking she
was under eighteen, therefore not allowed I pubs.
   The Heath was Hampstead Heath.  Not far from here.  I studied her
wondering exactly how old she was.
   "What's' the matter?" she asked looking at me with a slight scowl.  "You
don't think I can pass as eighteen or summ`at?" she said.  "That's it.  You
think I'll get booted out.  Well look again Mr.  Yank," and she twirled
around in a circle as if to show off her attributes.  "I've been in plenty
of pubs.  But the Heath is nice and I like going there."
   "How old are you?" I asked somewhat tremulously.
   Would she take offense; thinking I regarded her as a kid?
   "Old enough to fool the publican or the Old Bill," she grinned.
   The Old Bill was the police.
   "OK.  When?" I asked changing to a more positive stance.
   "Lets see.  How about Saturday afternoon?" she suggested.  "About three
o'clock.  I'll meet you outside here," she said.
   "OK.  You're on." I grinned.  "Three o'clock Saturday, right here."
   "It's a date then," she nodded her agreement.  "What's your name then?"
she continued.
   "Steve," I answered.
   "Pleased to meet you Steve the Yank," she said, and grinned.
   She made to walk past me, and then half turned to look back at me and
paused;
   "I'm Anna," she said with a smile.  "Anna from around the corner; and
oh, by the way, I do," she said chuckling, and turning away she walked
purposefully up the street, her hands still jammed in her pockets.
   For the first time I realized she was wearing some sort of backpack.  It
wasn't obvious as she had always faced me as we talked in the doorway of
the van, and the straps were concealed in the creases of her raincoat.  It
must contain her books.  She was on her way home from school.  I was
reminded I'd just made a date with a school girl.
   "Do what?" I called after her, puzzled at her last remark.
   "Come," she called back to me without turning around.
   I stood as a broad grin spread across my face and I watched her walk
off; and eventually turn left into the street that ended my street at a tee
intersection.  My God she was a cheeky little bitch.  She had chatted me up
and now she was signaling she was a bit of a goer, as the Brits say.  Or an
impossible tease?  I was somewhat nervous the rest of the week.  What if
she appeared when my flatmates were around?  How could I explain a school
kid turning up at my door ready to go to the pub?  I said nothing to
anybody and thankfully Pete, Claire, Kurt and Roslyn had all gone to the
markets just after one.  I loitered about the van and at about three
o'clock I looked up and saw this very attractive girl walking towards me. I
sat in the back of the van and looked through the front and saw it was
Anna. She wore a blue denim shirt with a tan waistcoat, tight jeans with
tapered legs tucked into calf high brown boots.  Her hair was fanned out
across her shoulders.  She looked about twenty and full of confidence
judging by her walk.  She did not see me sitting on the back seat and I
could se her scanning the front of our house; no doubt expecting to see me
somewhere in the front window or doorway.  As she neared she slowed her
swagger and I could see the look of concern on her face as she realised I
wasn't where she expected me to be.  As she drew level with the van she
stopped just short of our gateway and looked at the house.  I saw she took
a quick survey of the street, no doubt looking for prying eyes or busy
bodies.  Given how different she was dressed from earlier in the week I
doubt if anyone would recognise her as the school girl who stopped and
viewed my van.  She was standing with her back to me and I could see the
beautiful peach shape of her ass.  The slight gap between her inner thighs
such that with her knees lightly touching, I could just peer through the
gap at her under-crotch.  My God she was magnificent.  The curled long
black hair, like a raven mane over he shoulder.  I noted her wide belt was
the same color as the tanned waistcoat.
   Finally I had ogled her enough and opened the sliding door and stepped
onto the pavement.  She jumped and stood with a hand to her neck in fright
and then realizing it was me she scowled and stepping forward she made a
mock attempt at kneeing me in the nuts.  I flinched and drew one leg
quickly across the other to close the gap of my open legs as I stood
holding the door.  This is a certain reflex reaction in any male.  She saw
the flinch and burst out laughing.  She had got me better than I got her.
   "Bastard!" she giggled.  "You frightened three lives off of me," she
laughed.
   "Three lives, what are you, a cat with nine lives?" I chipped back.
   "Yeah, and I'm looking for my cream," she said and held a hand like it
was a claw and growled.
   The banter completed we stood looking at each other; a little
embarrassed as I knew she was maybe fifteen, going on twenty to look at. 
But she was still young.
   "So, Mr.  America, `ow've ya bin," she said in her London accent.
   "Frantic...just frantic waiting to get to now," I chuckled.
   "Ooh...frantic...sounds messy," she giggled and held my gaze.
   We stood looking at each other for about twenty seconds and then she
held her hands to the side.
   "Well...what's it to be?" she said looking at me as if waiting for
something.  "We standing here all day or what?"
   "Straight up to bed and give the cat some cream," I said and immediately
regretted it.
   "Dirty bastard," she giggled.  "Yor fulla yaself, aincha?"
   I stood arms folded with the side door still open.  I saw her face go a
little more serious.
   "Well are we going for a drink or not?  Cos if you want to back out,
jist say so now," she challenged a little more seriously.
   "Yep...yep, we're going for a drink," I said and slid the side door
closed.
   Having a left hand drive vehicle in a country that drives on the left,
means I usually step into the driver's seat from the curb.  But I had
parked the van facing the wrong way on the right hand side of the road, to
continue working on the interior; accessing the passenger side sliding door
from the curb.  Anna climbed into the passenger seat from the curb as she
normally would but her face turned to some alarm as she realised we were on
the wrong side of the road as I pulled away from the curb.  As we crossed
the centre line to the left hand side, she looked shocked to realise she
was closest to the centre line and oncoming traffic.  I laughed at her
surprise at the situation and eventually she got used to the fact I was
sitting on the left and driving on the left of the road.  She put her hands
to an imaginary steering wheel and made childish car noises, as if driving
a British vehicle from the right hand side.  I smiled with difficulty as my
gut feeling was that she was basically a kid.  Her age was preying on my
mind.  I was about to take this school girl to a pub.  We set off from
Willesden Green and she navigated quite accurately to Hampstead Heath to a
pub called the White Horse.  We had to park some distance away because most
of the close-in streets had yellow no parking lines.  After a walk of about
fifteen minutes, it was already four when we went in.  My heart was in my
mouth.  Were we about to get tossed out because she was under aged?  I
needn't have worried.  The middle aged brassy barmaid saw us and
immediately called to Anna.
   "Chelsea...hi ya gal," and then she stared inquiringly at Anna and then
at me.
   Anna led me to the bar.  `Chelsea?' I thought.
   "Hiya Sadie.  This is my friend Steve.  He's a Yank," she said candidly
and turned sweeping her hand towards me in introduction.
   "Ullo Steve...Yank..." said Sadie, and giggled; "we had Yanks here in
the war," she continued.  "Over paid, over sexed..." and she did a quick
jig to emphasise the over sexed part "...and over here" with which an old
guy with his back to us chimed in with her and turned to look at me.
   Cute I thought.  I'd only heard that a million times since January.  I
laughed along with them and Sadie asked what we wanted.  Before I could
answer, Anna ordered a half of lager and lime and a pint of lager.  Sadie
pulled the drinks up and gave them to us and I was somewhat impressed that
Anna slipped a fiver over the bar.
   "And salt 'n' vinegar crisps, and one fer yerself Sade," she said as she
walked away from any change.
   I was somewhat bemused by Anna being the regular that the barmaid
obviously knew well.  But Chelsea?  Where did that come from?  The bar was
not full but quite busy.  We managed to find a table and squeezed together
on the bench seat behind it.  It was cozy.  She had a smile on her lips and
I knew she knew I was pondering why she was called Chelsea.  She turned and
looked at me, her gorgeous brown eyes dancing as if laughing.  I said
nothing and raised my pint and we touched glasses.
   "Cheers," she said and sipped at her lager and lime.
   "Cheers Chelsea," I answered with a twinkle of my eye.
   She started to giggle.  Without me saying anything further she explained
why the barmaid Sadie called her Chelsea.
   "We come here a couple of months back; me and my friend Chelsea
Whittens. Well actually she was once my brother's boyfriend," she started.
   I raised my eyebrows at the mention of a brother.  She noted my
response.
   "That's my brother Danny.  He's in the Guards, stationed in Northern
Ireland," she explained.  "Anyway Chelsea got here before I did and when I
comes in, she sees the gaffer `Arold giving me the once over.  Anyway
`Arold came over and asks me for proof of me age.  Chelsea had twigged it
and she slid her license across to me.  I gave it to him and he was `appy
and went away," she said with a small grin of triumph at the simple
explanation for something that clearly puzzled me.
   I noted the dropping of the `H'.  A real Eliza Doolittle.
   "So you've come here ever since and they think you're Chelsea?" I said.
   I knew the Brits did not have photo driver's licenses so having one was
accepted that you were the person the license was for.
   "Exactly," she said and sipped her drink.
   "So Chelsea," I started with a grin, "exactly how old are you if you
needed a license to prove you were eighteen?" I said sipping my own drink.
   "Aaaahh...well...that'd be telling, wouldn't it?" she said enigmatically
and giggled as if to imply it would remain her secret.
   I decided to get off this topic.  She was in the pub without
discrimination, and pressed tightly against me; and she was absolutely
delicious.  Any concerns I had she was under the age of consent would
surface, hopefully, at a more intimate venue later.  That would be the
point I would decide if I wanted to lay some jail bait.  For now, everyone
thought she was eighteen...she probably looked at least that...and she was
a beautiful girl and no one would bother about her real age as she was so
pleasing to the eye.  Over the next hour or so Anna told me about herself.
Her father was Greek which explained the raven hair and olive complexion
with the beautiful eyes.  He had left them some three years earlier.  Run
off with a much younger woman.  Her surname was Kostas but her mother, who
was Scottish, went back to her maiden name of McEwan only recently.  She
had a relatively good job as payroll coordinator in a medium sized garment
factory in Neasden.  So as Anna put it, money was not a major problem for
her and her mother.  Her brother was Danny and in the Guards.  He was four
years older.  She impishly avoided answering when I asked how old Danny
was; so I couldn't count backwards to set her true age.  And so we got to
know a bit about each other.  She was fascinated by my life and the
apparent ease I got the money together to travel to Europe for a year and
she admitted she wanted to travel.  She's been to Greece twice to visit
relatives when she was smaller but wanted to do something similar to what I
was doing.  After two drinks I rose to get the third and she pulled me
back.
   "Nah let's not `ave another.  We can go now if you like," and flashed me
a look that made me optimistic that something better was to happen.
   "Where do you suggest?" I asked tentatively.
   "You've got a place.  Can we go there?" she asked, her eyes locking to
mine expectantly.
   "We can, but it's a bit rudimentary," I answered thinking of my basic
room upstairs; and not the flat proper that I only shared bathroom and
kitchen facilities with.
   Her face fell as she thought I was trying to put her off.
   "Oh well, maybe you can drop me off and come in for an hour or two," she
said a little disappointed at my apparent reluctance to take her to my
place.
   "No...no...we can go back to my room.  It's just a room and a mattress
and a TV," I said brightly.
   "Actually...let's go to our place," she said, as if an idea came to her.
"Mum's at the Legion and won't be home till eight.  It's Bingo today, so
she stays later and gets some fish and chips for tea, on the way back.  I'd
have to be home by then anyway so it will save time.  I'd only have to
leave a bit earlier from your place," she said as if a second thought.
   "The Legion?" I asked wondering what this was.
   "The British Legion.  Sort of a working man's club," she explained. 
"Mum usually goes there of a Saturday.  Abaht four."
   So it was to be.  We rose and left; Sadie giving us a farewell to
"Chelss and Yank" as we slipped out the door.  On arriving back in
Willesden, she asked me to stop in my street and walk up to her street in
about ten minutes.
   "I don't want us arriving in the van," she explained.  "To bleedin'
obvious for nosy neighbors.  We're number 21 Patton Street; up your street,
left and then right.  That's Patton.  On the right we are."
   I did as instructed and by five thirty I was tapping lightly at the door
of 21 Patton Street, Willesden.  She was waiting and opened the door
immediately and pulled me physically inside and closed the door quickly. 
There was no hall light on and it was quite gloomy as it was starting to
get dark outside.  I was barely standing still from being dragged off her
doorstep when she jumped me.  To say she went at me as if a sex starved
maniac is a little over the top but I had her arms crushing me to her with
her lips locking mine and her tongue somewhere east of my tonsils.  As if
to punctuate the assault on my lips, a thigh went between my legs and I
felt a definite shove hard against my groin.  Once she had me like this,
the kiss became open mouthed and wet and she went `mmmmm' as she kissed and
my groin got worked over by her thigh.  I wrapped my arms around her and
reciprocated a thigh into her groin and this escalated the assault into a
standing up wrestle that nearly saw us fall as we became unstable while we
tried dry humping each others leg.  I finally got some semblance of control
and steadied us sufficiently to push a hand inside her shirt; popping the
mock mother of pearl domes, and found her bra and slid a hand under it to
find full firm breasts and a hard nipple.  Several deft squeezes of the
nipple brought a lowering of pitch in her `mmmmm' to a steady guttural
groan; and the jamming of her pubis against my leg changed to a series of
deliberate erotic rubs up and down as she worked herself slowly.  She was
like a smoldering volcano.  She was agitated and groaning and mobile with
her mouth and tongue and hips as I increased the pain on her nipple and
rubbing of her crotch with my leg.  If she was under the age of sixteen,
she was certainly well practiced in sexual foreplay as she was extracting
exactly what she was after; at least to this point.
   I broke the routine we were in by sliding the hand I had holding the
small of her back, down around her hip and thigh and zeroed up into her
crotch.  She pulled back and buried her head on my shoulder and I swear she
sobbed as she muttered `oh fuck yes, do it for Christ sake do it...' I
drove my hand hard and curled my hand, palm up against her mound; and
fingers spread back along the crotch of her jeans, and rubbed.  She stood
almost mesmerized by what my hands were now doing; clinging to my neck with
her face buried against my shoulder.  She was panting and breathing
hoarsely and I slipped my hand to the waist of her jeans to start to undo
them here as we stood in the hall.  Finally she realized I would drop her
pants as if to fuck her right here, and she gained a semblance of self
control.
   "Nah...nah not here...upstairs...my room," she panted.  "Now, come on,"
and she stumbled somewhat as she pushed off me and headed the three paces
to the bottom of the stairs.
   This was a typical London brick semi-detached two-up, two-down with
steep stairs to the top story.  She staggered, almost falling to her knees
and pulled me after her.  Somewhere half way up, her hand slipped from mine
and she kept climbing rather than pause to let me catch up.  By the time I
followed her off the narrow landing through a door to her bedroom, she had
pitched herself on her back on a narrow single bed against one wall and she
was frantically tearing the domes open on her denim shirt.  The shirt was
flung across the room at a chair in one corner of the small room, and her
bra followed immediately after.  She then lay struggling with the button on
her jeans and soon had her legs hitched up as she pulled the denim from her
ankles and just let them fall.  She wore a pair of pink panties and I stood
struck in awe as she had her legs in the air and bent at the knees to allow
her to slip the flimsy garment over her pointed feet.  The thick bulge of
her sex lips between her buttocks and upper thighs was absolutely electric.
I wasn't actually idle and I'd got most of my upper garments off and I was
frantically trying to ditch my boots.  It was here I wondered at what point
her boots had disappeared as I had missed it, so frantic was she to
undress. As I struggled to hook first one then the other boot from my feet
she was now lying back naked with her legs splayed open and rubbing between
her legs, as if to keep herself on the boil.  When I saw this, I franticly
shucked the last boot and dropped my Levis and underpants in one swoop.  I
stood with my erection waving about with my exertions and as soon as she
saw I was naked, she held her hands up and her eyes were pleading with me
to get a move on.
   I was over the end of the bed falling towards her open body when she
caught my shoulders and pulled me up over her.  I had one hand on the bed
beside her shoulder and the other holding my cock as I worked myself into
position.  I was going as fast as I thought I could but she gasped "hurry
for fuck's sake" and as I slid into her wet mush she groaned loudly and
wrapped her legs behind my buttocks, as I speared balls deep in one swoop.
She was wet and ready and she arched her hips as I plowed into her.  She
took my upper arms as I had both arms now locked at the elbow to support my
upper body, and I fucked as fast and as hard as I could.  I was simply
beyond using my head about how I'd like to fuck her; my animal instincts
had long taken control and I simply fucked hard and the steady slap, slap,
slap of my groin against her groin was the counterpoint to her gasping and
groaning.  At no time did I stray a hand anywhere near her clitoris.  In my
mind, what I was doing was for me.  But by her reaction it was all for her
as she was now humping back and her hands had gone around my back and she
was putting a lot of effort into it.  I was so overwhelmed by this teen's
all out effort that I missed the first signal she was starting cum when she
stiffened.  I got the second signal which was an obvious low wail and her
head going back and she half twisted her body and started rubbing her
breasts.  I had been so interested in my own pleasure I had completely
overlooked these beautiful orbs with their stand up nipples.  She came hard
and gasped `oh Jeeeesus, God...fuck' and finally as she went through the
peak she slapped a palm over her forehead and her legs dropped away from my
hips.  Her free hand just lay beside her and she seemed to become passive
quickly and now lay still, breathing quite heavily as she lay while I
finished inside of her.  I hit my stride just after she seemed to peak and
as she lay under me I filled her with what seemed like endless spurts of
cum.  I finally collapsed over her, propping a hand beside her head on the
pillow; half supported by my own hand, and half lightly supported lying on
her upper body.  She opened her eyes fully and smiled broadly at me as I
lay looking into your face.
   "That was fucking brilliant," she sighed.  "You...?"
   "Fucking brilliant," I confirmed and laughed and gave her a quick kiss
on her cheek.
   She took my head in her hands and delivered a sloppy wet kiss.  I was
still embedded inside her and the warmth of the kiss kept me hard.
   "I wanted this the first day I saw you," she said, still a little
breathless from her exertions.
   "When was that?" I inquired a little flattered by her confession.
   "Days before I first spoke to you.  Well I had to speak to you
really...you didn't seem to know I existed, every day I went by," she
lightly chided.
   I chuckled.
   "Oh sweetie I am sooo glad you did," I laughed.
   I was getting myself under control.  I maneuvered myself off her and
rolled onto my back beside her.  She immediately rolled towards me and
pulled my arm around her neck and snuggled into me.  The classic post
coital recovery position.  We said nothing further and eventually we both
drifted into a doze.  I'm not sure how long we dozed to recuperate but she
woke me by shaking me and I turned my eyes down to look at her and she
smiled and ran her hand through the light thatch of hair on my chest.
   "Hullo yank," she whispered and craned her neck up and kissed me.
   "Hullo my little English Grecian Scot," I said and grinned.
   She giggled and looked at me softly.
   "You were pretty bleedin' good," she complimented me.
   "You were pretty bleedin' good yourself," I chuckled.
   We lay quietly for a short while.  I looked at my watch.  It was 6:15
and I noted the room was quite dark as the sun had set for the day.  Not
that it had been a sunny day, rather, one of those dreary overcast English
days where the weather could not decide to be good or bad.
   "It's OK," she said quietly.
   I turned and looked at her quizzically.
   "It's OK...I`m on the pill," she volunteered.  "That's what you were
wonderin' wasn't it?" she said.
   I wasn't but now she had brought it up it was an issue.  As was her age
which I still had no idea of whether I had just fucked jail bait or whether
she was legal.  She was certainly experienced whatever her age was.
   "Oh right...that's a relief," I said pretending she was right.
   "What does you mom say about it?" I asked quizzically.
   "It was `er idea...after I got pregnant," she said candidly, idly moving
one foot around the narrow bed shoved against the wall that we lay on;
almost an action of nonchalance.
   "You got pregnant," I repeated.
   "Yep...I'm not a virgin," she said as if it was a revelation, and
grinned at me.
   "I kinda thought that," I said and pecked her on the cheek.  "I'm glad."
   "I thought all men wanted to break in a virgin," she said mockingly.
   "Not me," I answered.  "Well actually I do...but never have. 
Unfortunately some one has always been there first," I laughed.  "Not that
it ever bothered me.  But how come your mum opted for the pill and not just
lock you up with a ye olde English chastity belt?" I said smiling at her.
   "Mum is a realist.  She didn't think I could not go with someone I
really fancied.  Now that I'd started.  She knew that much," she continued.
   "Who was the father?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to appear I was
prying.
   "It was my brother Danny's squadi mate.  Danny brought him home," she
said candidly.  "Anyway I miscarried and mum put me straight on the pill,"
she concluded.
   "Wow.  A miscarriage.  Not nice," I said with an expression of concern.
   "Best thing that could happen," she said bluntly.  "I'm too young for a
baby."
   I saw a glimmer of resolving her age.
   "So how old were you?" I asked innocently.
   "Not quite fourteen," she said without thinking.  As if to let the
secret out, she added; "...just after Danny came home with Phil from his
first camp," she said.
   "Has this Phil been back since?" I asked interested in what her
relationship was now.
   "Hell no," she exclaimed.  "He's banned.  Mum will have his guts for
garters if he ever shows his face around here.  He only tried to deny it!"
she said somewhat incredulously.  "The lyin' bastard.  He was the only one
I'd ever been with.  Anyway Danny sort of took his side saying I was all up
for it, and mum got really angry at him too and he hasn't been back for
nearly two years," she said ruefully, obviously remembering the incident as
being a little unpleasant.
   Rats!  So she was nearly fourteen and he hadn't been back for nearly two
years.  That seemed to suggest she was fifteen.  Maybe close to sixteen,
but nevertheless under the age of consent.  Or maybe there was a month or
two where she was pregnant before she miscarried.  She may be just sixteen.
The only thing for sure was she had lost her virginity to Phil at thirteen.
   "I give up Anna," I said ruefully and smiled to indicate I wasn't really
sad.
   "What...what do you mean then?" she asked a little confused.
   "I've tried to work out your age...I can't tell from looking at you...so
put me out of my misery," I laughed and held a hand up as if in surrender.
   "You crafty sod," she laughed.  "You've been trying to work it out from
me getting' pregnant and Danny and Phil in the service," she shrieked and
laughed and playfully pushed me back on my back, and slid over on top of me
and sat up.
   She locked the fingers of each hand in mine and leaned forward and
kissed me.  After we had kissed passionately for a minute or two she pulled
back and looked into my eyes.
   "I'm old enough to know about this, and you're not stupid enough to
complain," she said quietly and slid back down my body.
   I felt the fluff of her pubic hair scrape across my lower abdomen and my
flaccid penis and then her crotch was suspended between my slightly part
legs as her inner thighs skidded back down my thighs, over my knees and
onto my shins as she started to flatten out.  Her mouth came down to my
chest and she twirled each of my nipples and trailed her wet lips down my
stomach and lower abdomen.  She paused and looked up with an impish grin.
   "I'm old enough to know all about this," she said in a husky voice; and
she moved her mouth over my cock lying against the inside of my groin.
   I was already getting hard from the lips trailing along my skin and she
easily sucked it with her lips and drew me in, despite me not being fully
erect.  Once I was hard she brought one of her hands to my cock and slowly
stroked it.  She was now lying over my legs with her legs spread out to
each bottom corner of her single bed.  I could imagine what she looked like
from the rear!  She started to give me a beautiful erotic blow job.  I lay
my hands lightly on the tops of her shoulders and lay relaxed, watching her
mouth gripping my cock and her head slowly move up and down as she sucked
me.  She quickly got me harder and I let her suck to her own contentment.
Occasionally she looked up and ran her mouth around the outside of the
shaft while watching my reaction; and then to go down and suck me as deep
as she dare.  I could mostly see the top of her head, except for when she
lifted her head to look at me.  I sensed I was starting to get close so I
tapped her shoulder lightly and she looked up quizzically.
   "Come up on me," I said softly, containing my rising excitement.
   She didn't oblige immediately but took me back in her mouth and looked
at me almost teasing me.  I chuckled and rolled my eyes deliberately, to
let her know how much I enjoyed this.  After a short delay, she slowly
eased up to squat over my thighs then moved forward carefully, holding my
cock, and eased it into her has she lowered herself slowly down; taking me
in to the hilt.  She made a deliberate groan and beamed at me to signify
she was enjoying having me deep inside her.  Girl-on-top is not my favorite
position.  I like to control the effort.  But She was so beautiful, young
and amoral, and very uninhibited.  She was clearly promiscuous as I could
tell this was not a new experience for her.  She slowly rocked her self
around on me and occasionally lifted herself up, peered at the junction of
cock and cunt, and slowly slid back and looked at me with a self-satisfied
grin.  She repeated this for about five minutes and I noted she was
starting to become more self-absorbed; looking at me as if she was staring
through me.  I sensed she was now aroused within her own little world and
she was clearly fucking for herself; for her own rising pleasure.  I
reached for her breasts and massaged and kneaded them; pinching the
nipples. This brought about an immediate change in her action and she
started to gasp and moan and I realized her breasts were a very key
erogenous zone.  I dropped one hand to the junction of our crotches and
twisted the pad of my thumb up and into her clitoris.  Within no time she
was now groaning and gasping almost involuntarily as the triple assault on
her vagina, clitoris and nipples took her past the point of control she had
previously.  She lost her composure to sit with her back straight and
started to loll forward.
   She placed her hands either side of me and with her head bowed so I
could not see her face, she started to wail and groan once more and came
hard, eventually collapsing forward onto my chest; gasping and panting as
her orgasm began to subside.  She had used me to fuck herself to a nice
climax.  I was hard inside but as she leaned forward, it had the effect of
causing me to slip out of her cunt; with only about half of my cock
engaged. This wasn't what I needed right now so I wrapped my arms around
her and turned her carefully on her back.  Part way through rolling her she
sensed what I was after and jerked her body in an attempt to move us into
the middle of the narrow bed; and soon, without slipping out of her, I was
on top and lifting her legs out and up.  I was kneeling and scooted myself
as far into her as I could get, holding her legs.  I quickly fucked her as
hard as I could, to get back to the feeling of closeness to ejaculation as
I had been while she sucked me.  I hunched into her and fucked her hard;
slapping my groin into hers.  She grunted every time I pushed hard into her
and finally groaned as I buried myself as deep as I could possibly get, and
held myself rigid as I came hard in a series of blissful spurts and emptied
myself into her for a second time in an hour.  We both fell into a doze; me
lying half across her and she with her arms wrapped around my upper body as
if loosely cuddling me.
   It was the bang of a door somewhere that brought her awake.
   "Oh shit," she hissed under her voice.  "Me mum!  She's back from the
Legion.  What time is it," she whispered in panic.
   I lifted my head from the pillow and looked at my watch.  Shit!  It was
eight thirty.  We'd been sleeping for over an hour.
   "Get off!  Get up!" she hissed and she scrambled off the bed and started
pulling her panties on.
   As I rolled somewhat lethargically off the bed and stood, she was nearly
dressed in her shirt and jeans with bare feet.
   "Hurry up for Christ sake," she hissed.  "Get your fucking clothes on
and get into the wardrobe," she cried in suppressed anger at my slowness to
react.
   I looked at the free standing wardrobe and wondered how the hell I was
to fit in there.  I took her urgency and started to dress.  I had barely
completed zipping my jeans when she grabbed my shirt, suede bomber jacket,
sox, and shoes, and stared herding me to the door of the wardrobe.  I did
fit.  It was bigger than the all round than the door and I was soon
crouched in the dark with her clothes dangling over me from their hangers.
I was stuffed in here for only about five minutes when she opened the door
with a look of purpose on her face.
   "Get yer clothes on, quickly," she whispered.  "They've got fish and
chips.  I said I was about to take a bath and mum said get my bra and some
socks on and come down for tea.  She's got a bloke with her so she doesn't
like me without me bra," she whispered as she shucked the denim shirt so
her torso was naked and started to strap her bra on.  I followed her lead
and soon we were both dressed.  She put a finger to her lips to show me to
be quiet.
   "Follow me downstairs and then go out the back," she started.  "Turn
right outside and stay close to the fence line and step over the fence at
the corner," she continued.
   "Why can't I just slip out the front door?" I asked.
   "Because they'll see you walking down the path from the sitting room,
stupid," she chided.
   I nodded and with her leading the way, we crept downstairs.  Instead of
turning right across the entrance, I turned hard right and went down the
dingy narrow hall.  The hall went front to back with a door at each end.  I
crept to the rear door and she watched me until I got to it, and nodded her
approval I was doing what she told me.  She made a wide sweep right with
her arm to show me which way to turn.  I undid the latch and opened the
door and slipped out.  I turned right along the back and then turned and
felt my way along the outside wall of the house, towards the light thrown
by a street lamp which indicated the street at the front.  As she had
instructed, I moved the few feet from the corner of the house to the
junction of the front fence and the boundary fence with their neighbor's
house.  The front fence was brick, about three feet high, and I climbed
easily over it and set off along the street to the corner.  Left and then
right and I was at the top of my street.  I was home in about ten minutes.
   The place was deserted.  The rest of the crew was most likely at the
pub. I had caught the smell of fish and chips at the bottom of the stairs
at Anna's place and realised I was hungry.  I'd had nothing since lunch
time.  I was also aware I was a bit smelly after two very enjoyable bouts
of sex with my lovely teen of undetermined age.  I decided to bath first
and sat soaping my body when I heard the front door.  Someone came into the
living room and I suspect saw the sliver of light under the bathroom door
and came into the kitchen; and then I heard Claire's voice.
   "Is that you Steve?" Claire called.
   "Yep, just having a tub," I answered cheerfully.
   "Where have you been?" she called back.
   "Went to a pub at Hampstead Heath with a friend from work," I lied.
   "Any good?" she asked.
   "Nothing special.  His local.  But just a pub," I went on.
   "Do you feel like going out again," she called back.
   "Actually Claire I'm a bit pissed already," I lied.  "I'm having a tub,
and I'm going to get some fish and chips and have an early night," I
answered.
   "Typical," she laughed.  "Boozed before nine on a Saturday night.  Well
I'm off to the Old Black Lion to meet up with Pete.  I think Kurt and
Roslyn are there too.  I'll catch you later then," she called.
   "OK mate.  Have a good night.  See you in the morning," I answered.
   I heard the front door close about five minutes later.  I did exactly as
I had said I would.  I called at the off license near the chippie and
bought four cans of beer and took these and my cod and chips up to my attic
room.  I had a nice feed and a couple of cans of beer and crawled into my
bed.  I lay back and stared at the darkness and smiled to myself like the
cat that got the cream.  `Hiding in a fucking wardrobe!  What a story to
recall later for my memoirs.' I chuckled softly to myself and turned over
and fell asleep.
   I woke about eight thirty on Sunday morning and lay reflecting on my
time in London so far.  Sex with Pieetr the young Dutch guy which was a
dalliance with my brief gay past; I had slept with Lisbeth my Danish
flatmate, after she broke up with her English boyfriend James, just before
she went back to Denmark.  And then there was my current flatmate Claire. I
was becoming aware she was interested in me; knowing she and her boyfriend
Pete were having a few problems right now.  I wasn't sure about her though.
She confided in me that she and Pete had talked about time out from each
other; to take stock of there three year relationship.  It didn't seem a
good scene for me to get into if he, or she, left the flat with one or the
other still here.  I needed a piss.  The toilet was downstairs in the flat
proper.  I climbed up off the mattress on the floor and pulled my jeans on
and threw on a crumpled t-shirt and ambled down the two flights of stairs.
Then flat was silent with the two couples obviously still in bed asleep. 
It was on the way out the main flat door and turning into the adjacent door
to my place that I hear "Hi Yank" and turned to see Anna standing at the
gate.  She was wearing a dark anorak and had the hood pulled up and her
hands jammed in her pocket.  She had a red scarf around her throat.  It was
only then I realized just how cold it was, and it was raining lightly.  I
smiled warmly at her.
   "What are you doing here," I said in an almost hushed tone.
   Her face went a little serious.
   "Why are you whispering?" she asked.
   I motioned at the curtained window at the front of the house.
   "Flatmates are probably still asleep," I said looking at my watch to
emphasise the time while continuing to keep my voice down.
   It registered what I had said and she changed her expression to looking
a little embarrassed.
   "Oh...I forgot.  Can I come up?" she asked quietly; almost a little
apprehensively I might say no.
   "Yes of course," I said quietly, but made her sure I was very happy to
see her by beckoning her to me.
   I let her walk past me and closed the door after us.  She waited at the
bottom step for me to walk past and I took her hand and led her up the
stairs.  We climbed the first flight of stairs and she paused and looked
into Clive's office on the first level landing.
   "What's that for?" she inquired.
   "My boss Clive is the landlord and he advertises a couple of removal
company numbers as if they were a competing company.  He uses this office
and has a part-timer, Barbara, who comes over most days to manage the
calls. She makes a booking then phones them through to the main office
which is Clive's real company.  He mostly advertises in Time Out,
Australasian Express and New Musical Express.  That way he picks up the
young flatting trade with small amounts of possessions easily handled by
one van and the driver," I answered.
   "Very crafty," she said as we clumped up the next flight of stairs.
   We walked into the room and she stood somewhat nonplussed at my
rudimentary bedroom.  The mattress and disheveled bedding, an old valve
radio, and a black and white TV with a Newcastle Brown Ale bottle and a
wire coat hanger jammed in the top with a piece of electrical flex
connecting it to the TV.  This was the TV antenna.  There was a large piece
of colorful cloth I had fashioned over the single window, which acted as a
curtain.  It looked like gaily striped Mexican poncho material.  There was
one very large, rather faded, rug which I had placed the mattress on.  On
cold mornings I had some respite for my bare feet when getting out of bed
and walking around the immediate vicinity while dressing.  In the far
corner against the wall that divided the house, there was an ornate chest
of drawers.  The mirror sat against the wall beside it.
   "Jesus this is depressing," Anna chuckled, and after a scowl at the
disheveled pile of blankets that was my bedding, she walked over to the
dresser.
   "What's all this then?" she said looking back at me.
   "Clive's wife Beth was stripping it with the view to having it
re-varnished.  I think it's hideous," I answered.
   "I bet it's worth a bob or two," she said, running a hand over the bare
surfaces Beth had already stripped.  "Stuff like this can fetch good money
as an antique," she volunteered.
   "I don't think Clive believes its worth much," I chuckled.  "And he's
got an eye for a bargain.  But I get the feeling that Beth is somewhat
strong willed and he went along with this monstrosity being stored here," I
continued.  "She hasn't been back for ages and so there's no smell of the
stripper my flatmates had warned me about."
   She looked at me and grinned wickedly.
   "Speaking of stripper..." she said and poked her tongue out and started
to walk towards me, removing her jacket and throwing it over the radio
cabinet.  I grinned and took the hint.  I was wearing only jeans and tee
shirt so by the time she had removed her sweater and shirt, standing in her
bra and jeans, I was naked and I stepped over the mattress and took her in
my arms and started to kiss her.  She immediately went for my hardening
cock and she jacked me for a minute or two and I unhooked her bra.  She
stopped jacking me while she let the bra slip off her arms and it fell to
the floor.  She took me in hand again and I undid the dome on her jeans and
pulled the zipper down, and slipped a hand down her panties.  We resumed
kissing and fondled each other and after I hit her clitoris a couple of
times she groaned `mmmmm' and pulled back.
   "Let's get into bed," She panted and shoved her tight jeans off her
hips.
   She paused briefly while she removed a pair of black ankle boots and
then stripped the tight jeans away altogether.  She stood in a pair of
black bikini briefs which she quickly removed.  She was absolutely
ravishing.  It was quite cold in the room and her nipples stood high and
erect.  We scrambled under the sheet and blankets and started to make out;
continually fingering each other.  She was moistening rapidly and I went
down on her nipples with my mouth and nipped and played with them while my
hand opened her up.  Her hand began rather erratic on my cock and I
chuckled to myself that her own quest for pleasure had led her to abandon
any accuracy in the effort to stimulate me.  It didn't harm my ideas to get
into her as I was as hard as a rock, despite her absent minded fumblings.
There was little to it but to get between her legs and as soon as I made a
small movement to move over her she groaned `mmmmm' into my mouth as we
kissed and pulled my cock towards her groin as she instinctively opened her
legs; drawing her knees up.  Despite her wetness, the penetration bought a
gasp of joy from my lips.  She might be aroused and amoral but she was
still nice and tight as I slid home after a series of short jerks in and
out; gaining more depth each shove.
   "Oh good that's good" she panted and kissed my face and clung to me as I
started to fuck her steadily.
   We fucked slowly at first; she was running her hands over my back and
down my buttocks and back up the sides of my rib cage.  It was turning me
on and I slammed into quite deeply bring a groan of encouragement and
praise.
   "Oh fuck that's so good," she hissed.  "Just do it like that," she
groaned.
   Spurred on by her encouragement I started to increase the pace and she
responded by humping back.  We soon struck a rhythm were we were both
humping towards and away from each other in what seemed like practiced
unison.  In fact it was the third time only we had fucked yet we seemed
well matched.  We didn't last long.  I was mauling one breast with one hand
and resting the weight of my upper body on the other as I nipped and bit at
the other nipple.  She was clinging to me for dear life and soon she was
wailing like a small banshee and slamming up to meet me as I quickened my
thrusts and started to cum strong and hard into her for the third time
since our meeting.  We had fucked as if our lives depended on it and both
gasped and groaned our enjoyment of the orgasms which had wrecked us.  To
this day, Anna remains the only woman I have ever had sex with that had
strong vaginal orgasms.  Every other female needed significant clitoral
stimulation to get off.  But three times without fail, she had orgasmed
simply by the presence of my cock buried in her wet cunt.
   It was barely gone nine o'clock and we were lying with her in the crook
of my arm and the blankets pulled up to our chins.  It was nice and warm
under the blankets and she did compliment me that my bedding was actually
clean and warm, although she thought I needed fatter pillows.
   "So what happened after I left last night?  Did your mother suspect
anything?" I asked interested to know how her evening finished.
   "Nah.  She had this guy Warren with her.  He goes to the Legion of a
Saturday to see her.  He's trying to get a leg over.  She knows it of
course but likes his company so she lets him hang around," she said in a
disinterested tone.
   "And will Warren get a leg over?" I asked with a chuckle.
   "Hell no.  Mum's not that stupid.  Warren's a bit of a no-hoper and she
knows it.  Divorced and lives with his old mum.  He's just after her
because she got a good job and a house," she said dismissing Warren's
chances.  "Mind you, mums still pretty attractive despite having two kids,"
she added in approval of her mother's apparent looks.
   "So they never suspected anything...us?" I said.
   She shook her head.
   "I had some tea and then said I wanted a bath...you should have seen
Warren perk up when I said that," she chuckled.  "The dirty sod nearly
popped a fuse when I went down with just me shirt on while you wuz in the
wardrobe," she giggled.  "That's why mum growled and made me come back to
put me bra on," she said grinning.  "Just as well really.  The old fart was
nearly dribbling at me tits jiggling.  So he must have had a quick mental
of me in the tub."
   I laughed at her candor about her affect on Warren.  Anna didn't seem
fazed by anything.
   "So you're out an about early this morning," I said acknowledging she
had appeared downstairs at just after eight thirty.
   "Mum was going over to her sister's house in Swiss Cottage so I thought,
`I wonder what the Yanks up to this morning' and decided to come down for a
quick check," she said impishly and I felt her warmly fondle my cock under
the blankets.
   That did it.  The fumble turned to a profound investigation with her
head pushed under the blankets and next thing she has twisted around with
her hip next to my shoulder with her feet hanging over the side of the
mattress and she started to suck me expertly as she had done last night.  I
reached my hand nearest her hip between her buttocks and soon I was lying
on my back fingering her sex while she crouched and sucked me; jacking me
expertly with her hand in concert with her mouth.  After a couple of
minutes like this, I nudged her inner thigh to motion her across me and she
looked back.
   "You don't have to...I'm all icky," she said breathlessly, realizing I
wanted us to 69.
   "Sauce for the goose..." I said starting the old saying meaning
equality.
   She didn't argue and soon she was lowering her crotch into my face.  We
did a few moves of adjustment and I set about lifting my head into her
crotch and did her over with my tongue, while pushing my fingers into her
wet cunt.  She smelt strongly of sex; partly her juices and partly my cum.
At one point she started moaning and I slid a hand up and under her belly
and found her clitoris.  She lost it and let my cock slip form her mouth
and lay with her head on my inner thigh; gasping and groaning as I ate her
from underneath.  She went through a fantastic orgasm and slumped her lower
body down on my chest as she couldn't hold herself up anymore.  I lay as
she gasped and groaned and struggled to get comfortable.  I was lying
staring into her open sex; all pink, and with a sheen of my saliva.  I
stared at her brown pucker and thought of Dutch Pieetr who had been my
first sexual conquest after arriving in London in January.  He had been
just as amoral as Anna and was the consummate gay bottom.  I had fucked his
ass just as if it was a girl's cunt.  I slid my thumb gently over the anal
rose and Anna stiffened and I heard; "DON'T." She said it once and loudly
even though her face was buried against my thigh.  But I got the clear
message.  Her asshole was clearly a no go area.  I was a little taken aback
by her definitive statement and disappointed her sexual adventure did not
include this tight little hole.  Almost as an act of rebellion, I struggled
out from under her and she groaned and lay fully on the bed, her head at
the foot of the mattress.  I climbed over the tops of her thighs and I
could see the plump sex between the buttocks.  I knelt and lifted her up
and she took the hint.  I had made her cum with my mouth, now it was my
turn for selfish enjoyment.  She struggled up onto her knees and I took one
of my pillows and moved it along her body in front of her face as she lay
with one cheek on the bedding.  She saw it and knew what it was for and
lifted her head and slid the pillow under her and lay her face down on it.
Her hands now hooked over the edge of the mattress.  I mounted her easily
and adjusted her height and started to fuck her.
   I didn't take long to cum.  I simply held her hips for a few minutes and
enjoyed the sight of my cock reaming her sex and then as I started to get
close, I hunched over her more and wrapped my hands around her upraised
midriff.  With short sharp rutting of my hips I quickly brought myself to
the point where I felt the cum rising through my cock and that glorious
ache somewhere in the middle of my groin as I started to cum hard into;
slapping hard against her butt as I gasped and cried out and I filled her
for the second time within an hour of her arrival.  She was so fucking
gloriously carnal and my ego and male pride was brimming full as I gasped
and cried and slowly finished inside her; my face against her back and eyes
tight shut in joy as I slowly came down off my high.  We slumped to the
mattress and after a few moments, she reared back and started to turn
around.  I helped her under the blankets and she crawled in beside me.
   "These sheets are going to need washed," she mumbled lazily into my neck
as she cuddled me.  "I'm leaking like a bleedin sieve," she explained and
we drifted off again.
   We woke about half an hour later.  It was raining hard and we could hear
it lashing the slate roof just above our heads.  It was also drumming hard
on the window pane just to the right of the mattress.  I opened my eyes and
looked at her and bent and pecked her on the nose.  She opened here eyes
slowly and smiled.  We lay silent for a few minutes.
   "Who was the blond bird who came in?" she asked casually, eyes still
closed and nose against my neck.
   I started at her question and eased back to look down at her.
   "What blond bird?" I asked in a surprised tone.
   She opened her eyes at my reaction of surprise and studied me, trying to
read my face.
   "The one that come to the doorway," she said.
   I studied her with a look of concern.
   "What...here or downstairs?" I said trying to think what she was talking
about.  "I didn't see any blond at the door," I said, staring at her for an
explanation as to what she was on about.
   "Nah here...I'm surprised you didn't see her because you would have been
facing the door while you wuz shagging me from behind," she said candidly.
   "Here...when I...we were doing it?" I screeched a little panicky.  "Oh
fuck...that would have been Claire...my flatmate.  She sometimes comes up
if their having a cook up for breakfast of a weekend I said," slapping my
hand to my forehead in frustration that Claire had seen me fucking Anna.
   And if I was facing that way, so was Anna.  Obviously I had my eyes
closed or was looking to the side, or crouched over Anna's back suckling
her skin; and didn't see what she had seen of Claire in the doorway.  I sat
up and felt devastated Claire had seen me with this schoolgirl, however
cute Anna was.  I was agitated by it and Anna pulled herself up and looked
at me.  I glanced at her and her face had gone serious and I sensed she had
read my thoughts.
   "Why should you care she saw us?" she said in a sulky way.  "It's none
of her business," she snapped and studied my face.
   "You don't understand..." I started and realised it was stupid to try
and explain to Anna that I thought Claire fancied me and that I definitely
coveted Claire, despite her being with Pete.
   Anna's eyes were boring into me now and I saw she was starting to look
more than a little pissed with me.
   "You fancy the cow, dontcha?" she spat at me.  "You fucking hypocrite!
You don't mind boning me but you don't want the fancy Claire to know yer
with a schoolgal," she fumed and stood up, her magnificent breasts jiggling
in her haste to get away from me.  "And ya tell me she's got a bloke who's
yer flatmate yet you'd do the dirty on him for yer own selfish ways," she
yelled as she started pulling on her panties and fished her bra up off the
floor.
   She was absolutely right.  I couldn't argue and tried to speak my
innocence but instead I mouthed words that never came.  I must have looked
as guilty as sin.
   "Anna look...don't...you've got it wrong," I finally stammered, trying
to retrieve my gaffe.  "It's just that I don't like anyone peering in on
me; I don't care who it is, she shouldn't have come up," I said standing
and walking towards her.
   She had her shirt on and was pulling her jeans up as I reached her. 
When I touched her she pulled her jeans with one mighty effort so they were
up, without being zipped or buttoned at the waist and stepped back out of
my reach.
   "Don't you fuckin' touch me you bastard," she snarled, "or I'll scream
blue murder and then how would you look," she threatened.
   I knew she would.  She had no fear of anything this girl.  I still had
no idea of her true age and the last thing I wanted was a loud scene with
possible disclosure and me getting slapped with `unlawful carnal knowledge'
which was the crime for having sex with a girl over twelve but under
sixteen here in England.  Maybe not jail but then I might get kicked out. I
was on a tourist visa and working illegally under the table.  I stood
helplessly feeling gutted by my own stupidity at allowing my reaction to
Claire being in the doorway tipping Anna off to my true feelings for
Claire; and of course Anna's age.  I shook my head and picked up my jeans
and pulled them on without underpants.  I grabbed the T-shirt and pulled it
over my head.  I figured she was going to leave no matter what I said so I
figured I'd try and talk her round on the way down the stairs.  Alas she
was way ahead of me; dressed and out the door muttering `fucking Yank
arsehole...fuck off back where you come from' and vanished down the stairs.
I went to the doorway and stood at the top of the stairs and heard her
clumping down the stairs; jumping two at a time to speed away from me. 
Then I heard the front door slam.  The window in my room was at the back of
the house so I could not see the street.  I ran to Clive's office midway
down the stairs and went to the window which did face the street.  I saw
her hurrying out of sight past the neighbor's house and noted she was
pulling her anorak on as it was raining steadily.
   That was the last view I ever had of Anna.  I never saw her again.  I
loitered around my van for a few days over the next couple of weeks but she
obviously changed her route home from school.  I even wandered up to the
top of the road where I thought she might walk along to her street but
never saw her.  This was totally residential with the streets set usually
at right angles as they criss-crossed; each block like the squares on a
chess board with the roads the separating lines.  There were numerous ways
to access any one street.  She could avoid me indefinitely unless I was
just plain lucky.  But I never bothered to try more than those couple of
times the weeks immediately after she stormed out.  It was a double blow of
sorts.  Not only had I lost perhaps the most erotic and amoral girl I had
been with in my life to date, but when I eventually went downstairs, I
noted Claire was decidedly cool.  Pete and Kurt were reading the Sunday
Times and Roslyn was sitting at the table smoking while she looked out the
window at the rain.  They all greeted me cheerily enough.  Claire was in
the kitchen cleaning up the dishes and there were the obvious signs they
had had bacon, eggs and sausages for brunch.  I looked at Claire as I
passed through to the bathroom for a shave and a thorough washing of my
nether regions.  She didn't look up and walked out of the kitchen without a
word to me.  I glanced back and she was heading through the living area to
the bedroom.  Clearly Anna was right.  Claire had arrived in my doorway
while I was doggy-fucking my schoolgirl.  I felt like a complete louse. 
Turning back, I went into the bathroom and completed my morning ablutions.
Just before eleven Pete called out "you coming down the pub Steve?"
   "No mate.  Maybe this evening's session," I called back.
   The pubs opened twice on Sundays; with a closed period in the afternoon
supposedly for families to go to church or spend time together on the
Sabbath.  It seemed a bit quaint and I wondered why they bothered, given
the local pub was very much the centre of British social contact anyway. 
Families all went to the pub; kids and all as long as they didn't touch
alcohol.  It was really rather civilized to that extent.  But there were
many that were critical the pubs opened on Sunday's at all.
   After they had left I poached a couple of eggs.  We all subscribed to a
food jar and basic staples and things like eggs butter and bread all came
from the jar.  If you wanted meat and veg.  we usually had a `whip round'
as they say, and contributed to whoever was cooking.  The bacon was Kurt's
treat and it was all gone.  The came home after afternoon closing and
Claire went straight to her room.  Roslyn was giving me a funny look and I
knew Claire had confided in what she had seen.  But Pete and Kurt seemed
oblivious to my morning carnal adventures.  They surely would have razzed
me if they knew what Claire had seen.  At about three o'clock I decided to
get my laundry and go to the launderette.  I could at least be busy until
the pub opening time at six.  I recalled Anna's comments about leaking on
the sheets.  I excused myself from the living room and as I walked along
the hall to the front door Roslyn came out of their room.  She paused and
noting neither Pete nor Kurt were taking any notice of me leaving she
leaned close.
   "I'd leave well enough alone with that one," she said and indicated
Claire and Pete's bedroom door, meaning Claire.  "She's got a lot to work
through with Pete.  She's a bit shaken and I think you might have upset her
this morning..."
   With that she gave me a knowing look and walked past and along the hall
to the living room.  I stood and digested her words briefly and slowly
continued to the front door.  I paused outside of Claire and Pete's door
and stopped and looked at the door wondering just how much Claire was upset
at me.  Anna was right; she shouldn't have come up.  But then she often did
and I had always welcomed her occasional excursions to invite me down for
drinks, meals or to share a joint.  aI knew she always volunteered as a
legitimate way to come up to my room.  Now I had blown that.  As I slowly
climbed the stairs to my attic retreat, I thought about the need to get
going and get organized for my trip to Europe.  But it was only April and I
had planned to go in July.  I pondered why Claire reacted to me having
someone in my room.  Did this mean she was perhaps jealous?  Maybe bringing
someone home led her to believe I had no reciprocal feelings for her; that
we were just platonic friends as well as flatmates.  Or maybe she
recognised Anna as being very young and this disgusted her with me.  I
sighed and started to gather my clothes and sheets and stuff them into the
large pillow slip I used as a laundry bag.  What a day.  Two glorious bouts
of unabashed sex before breakfast, yet I was feeling like a leper who had
staggered into a room full of healthy people!
   The End
   (C) ROMANY 2007.  please do not copy, edit or redistribute this story
without the author's permission.
   See also by Romany: `London Days 2: Lisbeth' and `London Days 4: Heera'.
   
  
London days 3_Anna