My Girlfriend’s Placement Year

Hi, I’m Dave.

I’d been with my amazing girlfriend Elizabeth for around two years. We’d met in our first year doing the same course at Southampton University.

Elizabeth was one of only a handful of girls on our course and I was instantly attracted to her from the moment we met. She was 20 at the time and I was 19. She was 5ft6 with long blonde, naturally wavy hair, which she straightened religiously.

I’ve never really been drawn to skinny girls and Elizabeth fitted the bill perfectly. I wouldn’t say she was fat, but was marginally overweight – carrying a few extra pounds in all the right places. Of course, she thought she was fat and wasn’t particularly body-confident. I wouldn’t have changed a single thing about her.

On the outside she would probably be considered somewhat of a nerd. She was clever and wore glasses, she was innocent and very well-mannered – even slightly posh. Her intelligence was also one of the reasons I fell for her, she was really cute.

I was a little shocked (but pleasantly surprised) to find that she was interested in me and – as I later found out – wasn’t as prudish as I initially thought once you got to know her.

In all honesty, I thought it would be reasonably hard work to get her into bed.

After less than a few hours of our first ‘date’ – beginning in a student pub near Uni, and then a short walk to a club – we were all over each other while I openly groped her perky 34b tits and fondled her bum up the back of her slightly-above-knee-length skirt in the middle of the dance floor.

Both horny we left the club early and jumped in a taxi to her University halls accommodation. Once inside the front door we continued where we’d left off in the club. When we’d worked ourselves back up to a similar level of desperation after the lull of the taxi, she led me up the stairs to her room. We were so desperate for each other that I barely even had time to get undressed. Her top and bra were off before her door even closed behind us, and she collapsed on top of me on her tiny single bed.

Elizabeth shuffled down the bed away from me, unzipped me and immediately took my hard 7in cock in her mouth. Given we’d both been drinking quite hard, I’m sure she’d forgive me in saying it probably wasn’t the best blowjob she’d ever given. But that was fine – I was desperate to get inside this girl and was thanking god for the single condom I kept tucked in my wallet. I hadn’t expected to be in this position with a prim-and-proper girl like her on our first date, or I’d have made sure I came better prepared.

I wanted to move things on, so I encouraged her back up my body and pulled her in for another desperate kiss while she continued to jerk my cock as well as she was able with it sandwiched between us. After about 30 seconds she sat upright, straddling my lower legs and started to shuffle her knickers down her thighs. She bought her left leg up and unhooked them, before returning to her previous position. She was still wearing her pretty (but length-wise relatively conservative) skirt, but was naked underneath, with her underwear still wrapped around her right leg.

Elizabeth leaned over me face-to-face, supported on her right arm and looked me directly in the eyes as she shuffled up my body on her knees.

Her inquisitive drunken stare was presumably trying to detect any lies I might be about to tell. She slurred breathlessly “Are you clean?”

Jesus Christ I thought – this goody-two-shoes isn’t going to ask if I even have a condom – she’s going to let me fuck her bareback on the first date!

When I realised that I nearly came straight away.

She had stopped jerking me and instead used her hand to position my cock at her pussy entrance whilst she waited for my answer. In awe at the situation, I was momentarily stuck for words when I realised she was already rubbing the swollen tip of my cock between her lips. She dipped down slightly so the head popped inside of herself, teasing me, all the time staring dazedly into my eyes.

Accepting the slightest of nods from me, without really waiting for a proper answer to her question, she eased herself down my shaft. I’ll never forget the expression on her cute little face as she slid my rock-hard cock into herself that very first time. Her eyes were mostly closed and her eyelids flickered with pleasure. Her mouth hung open as she gasped.

Not limited by the number of condoms I didn’t have, we fucked three times that night. Then when we woke up in the morning with hangovers, we fucked some more. It wasn’t until round two that first night that I got her skirt off and had a proper look at her.

This girl had just gotten even better. Just above her pussy grew the cutest landing strip of hair I’d ever seen. About an inch-and-a-half wide of neatly-trimmed light brunette curls – in stark contrast to her naturally blonde hair – flanked on each side by freshly waxed, hairless flesh.

I’d been with trimmed girls and bushy girls (and honestly, I prefer the latter), but this was the best of all worlds.

I also noticed when going down on her for the first time that Elizabeth had a rather large set of labia protruding from her pussy. In my somewhat limited experience of four previous girls, I’d not seen a pussy like this before. During our relationship I became addicted to it.

As time went on she revealed that she thought she had an ugly pussy. I did my best to reassure her but, like her weight, it was something which dented her self-confidence.

Elizabeth’s taste was strong, but sweet. I would nibble and suck on those lips to her obvious delight, and I would love to watch them stretch out along my cock slowly as I withdrew from each thrust, before sliding back in on the next stroke and watching them disappear into her again.

She got all shy when I did this and would never make eye contact with me when I was going down on her or looking at her pussy as we had sex.

Most of all, I loved the fact that she didn’t make me use protection.

I would get to fill this hot little pussy with my cum.

The first two girls I’d been with were just as inexperienced as I was at the time, so we used condoms without much discussion on the matter.

My next girlfriend – the undoubted love of my life at that point – was on the pill and introduced me to the complete unrivalled joy of unprotected sex. There’s nothing as satisfying as blowing a huge load directly into an unprotected pussy, particularly when it belonged to someone seemingly so innocent as Elizabeth on the outside.

Whilst the sex inevitably became less frequent over the next couple of years, my love for this adorable girl grew stronger every day.

However, the third year of our University degree was a work placement. I was placed in Brighton so I moved into a flat-share there.

Elizabeth had got a really good placement with a great company in Reading.

This concerned me as – glad as I was that she’d secured such a fantastic placement – getting from Brighton to Reading and vice-versa wasn’t easy. Neither of us had a car, so seeing each other at weekends would mean spending ages on trains, needing to go right into central London, get the tube and then another train all the way to Reading.

I told myself that it would all be ok, that we loved each other and that absence would only make the heart grow fonder. I secretly feared that absence might make the heart forget. Not on my part, but on hers. I’d had no reason to doubt her commitment to our relationship, but making it work long-distance at this age was bound to be tricky.

After starting our work placements in July, within a few weeks my fears were coming true. We were going through a tricky patch as we were now away from each other a lot for the first time. We spoke every day on the phone, but these conversations soon became shorter and shorter, with her offering little of substance, mostly one-word answers as I struggled to make the conversation flow, and my text messages and emails went largely unanswered.

She’d made a few friends at her work, and they went for a drink every so often, but other than that she sounded pretty miserable to be there. Just like on our course, she was almost the only girl in her department, so she was lacking female company.

We continued to meet up every weekend and have a nice enough time, usually with me travelling up to Reading where she shared a house with two other guys from our course also placed at the same company. There was still something not right though, she wasn’t her happy, perky little self anymore, but she wouldn’t open up to me.

We were all being paid little more than pocket money in our placements and doing much other than hanging around and watching DVDs was out of the question by the time I’d paid for the train fare, so there wasn’t much I could do to break the monotony for her.

She was also broke, and could only afford a small room pre-furnished with, yes, another single bed. Even the sex dried up. Sometimes we wouldn’t even be intimate in any way during our weekends together. It felt like we were helplessly sliding towards the friend-zone.

We had booked a holiday to Greece for mid September before our downward slide, but even that didn’t bring us any closer to what we had been. Despite it being 36 degrees permanently, she kept covered up everywhere except the beach, probably knowing that the more flesh I see the more insatiable I get. And I didn’t get the impression she wanted to be intimate.

During this week we only had sex twice – right at the end of the holiday with a little drink inside us, but both times she was barely present.

Even as I penetrated her, she looked disinterested and flat. Her mind was elsewhere. She went through the motions, but was pretty lifeless. Both times I felt like I’d used her. She wasn’t into it, into me.

She’d even stopped taking close care of her landing strip and was now sporting a thin bush, unkempt by comparison.

Neither of us had openly voiced any concerns and I still hoped we could make it work. I was still besotted with her, but was now having real doubts about whether she was about to end it. I could feel her slipping away but felt totally helpless to stop it. Like I was watching a car-crash in slow-motion.

I didn’t have to wait too long. On a phone call having being back from Greece for barely a week, she said she thought we should just be friends for the time being. ‘Have a bit of a break’ was how she put it.

Maybe don’t see each other every weekend and see what happens.

She said she still loved me, but thought we needed to stop trying so hard to make it work.

She said she needed to concentrate fully on her placement.

She said we should take the pressure off and let nature take its course.

I wasn’t surprised, and I clung to what she said about still wanting me in her life, but I was totally gutted. If I understood what had changed for her it might help me to process it, but I didn’t know what was going on in her head,

From that point on, our relationship took a confusing turn. We still spoke on the phone, but only a few times a week instead of every day. The conversation seemed to flow more easily, like it would between friends. We flirted a little over text message, she seemed to be finding that fun side of her personality again.

We still did the sort of things most couples do. I still travelled to see her (although now only every other weekend). I hated the travelling with a passion, but it was worth it to see her.

Still travelling up on a Friday night straight from work.

Still staying over Friday and Saturday nights, before leaving on the Sunday afternoon. Still sleeping next to her in that tiny single bed where it was impossible not to get very close indeed, all the time wanting nothing more than to hold her, kiss her and be inside her.

However, little things had changed. Although we were sleeping crammed next to each other in a single bed, she was more private about her body now.

She slept with her back to me.

She wore a proper set of pyjamas, not just a long t-shirt or underwear.

She rebuffed any touching or cuddling in bed.

She wouldn’t get changed in front of me, or even in the same room.

We would sometimes go out drinking together when I visited – like we used to back at Uni.

We even had (very) drunken sex a couple of times. And I don’t mean ‘vacant’, Greece-type going-through-the-motions sex – I mean really good sex again. At least, I think it was good from what I could remember. I also noted that the landing strip was back, slightly thinner than I was used to.

I’d missed good sex over the past few months. But she never wanted to do anything whilst sober and clear-headed, and those two mornings-after she acted as if nothing had happened.

No conversations about what it meant.

No further intimacy.

Although drunk, she wasn’t drunk enough not to make me wear a condom.

We didn’t tell anyone we’d ‘broken up’, and it made no sense to – outwardly it would be hard for anyone to tell. Plus I knew I’d be inundated with questions about why we were still seeing each other so often. It would seem weird. It WAS weird.

I broached the subject of our ‘relationship status’ with her occasionally, but she would bat this away, questioning why we had to define it or give it a name, and asking me not to put her under so much pressure.

I could see her point. Initially after the break-up, I thought our relationship was lost but it seemed that we weren’t quite at that stage yet, so I was happy in one way. I was still in with a chance. But neither could I call her my girlfriend. I suppose we could be described as ‘friends with very occasional benefits’. I just wanted so much more.

Then one weekend in late October, we went to stay with her parents to celebrate her brother’s birthday on the Sunday. I liked her family a lot and we always had a good time there, although it was close to a 4hr train journey for me each way.

Late on the Saturday afternoon we were alone in the house watching TV and I noticed she was on her work phone an awful lot, messaging or emailing or something.

Given the recent unexplained turn of events in our relationship, I was naturally curious. I didn’t say anything, but if I really strained out of the corner of my eye I could see some of what she was writing. I saw her sign off a long reply to a text message with “xx”. I began to panic. But it could be something totally innocent, right? Girls do this all the time with their friends surely?

Then I though about it more. This was her work phone. And she worked in an almost exclusively-male job. Could Beth, my outwardly-conservative sort-of-ex-girlfriend be messaging another guy?

I had my answer within the hour.

I saw her sign-off another text message with “love and miss you xx”.

My heart raced. I started to shake a little. My mouth went dry. She was seeing someone else. And what’s more, it seemed serious judging by what I’d read.

She didn’t notice me looking, she was too wrapped up in her own little world. Angrily, I blurted out “who is it you love?”

I had her attention now, she looked shocked and tried to switch it round and have a go at me for spying on her texts. I had so many questions, they just all came out at once in an incoherent stream…

“Who are you messaging?”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“Is it a guy from work?”

“When did all this start?”

In the space of a few seconds she’d crumbled and was on the verge of tears, clearly upset. She ran out of the room, up the stairs and locked herself in the bathroom. Sadly she’d taken the phone with her, that would have made interesting reading and I’d absolutely have been straight in there if I could have.

As always, it was down to me. Her reaction clearly showed something had been going on, but if I wanted to get any answers from her, I needed to coax her out of the bathroom for a proper talk. At first she refused.

“No, I can’t. What if you hate me?”

I knew not knowing would kill me. Better to know however bad it is.

I reassured her, without really believing what I was saying, or that I’d been reduced to begging my probably-cheating ex-girlfriend to come out and explain herself to me.

I suddenly felt very foolish. She’d basically dumped me and treated me like dirt, like an inconvenience, and I’d let her get away with it. I’d spent my weekends travelling hours to see her. I was here for her brother’s birthday. And all this time she was lusting after someone else, wishing she was with him instead.

So why wasn’t she? What the hell was going on?

I bent the truth a little in order to help find out.

“I won’t hate you, I couldn’t. I just need to know what’s going on, please come out and talk to me honestly.”

After a few more minutes, she sheepishly opened up the bathroom door and skulked out. She wouldn’t look at me but it was obvious she’d been crying.

“In here” she said and led me across the hall to her bedroom. Her childhood bedroom – where we’d spent many nights together before when visiting. For once there was actually a double bed – although we’d never had sex in it. She was too shy about her parents or brother hearing us.

She closed the door and we sat on the end of the bed, she still wouldn’t look at me. She cradled her work phone in her hand. It buzzed with another message, she briefly glanced to see who it was from.

“Can’t you put that bloody thing down for 5 minutes?” I snapped.

She turned it off and leaned over to place it on her bedside cabinet. She was silent and it was clear that if I wanted to know anything I was going to have to drag it out of her.

“Right” I began. “I’m not stupid you know, I saw what you were texting, so who is it you love and miss? Are you seeing someone else?”

Silently, she nodded, still looking at the floor.

“Who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters, it is somebody I know? Someone I’ve met?”

“No.” That made me feel microscopically better.

“So not Rob or Steve then?”. Referring to her housemates.

“What? No!” she protested, as if the suggestion was totally crazy.

“But someone from work?”

Again, the silent nod towards the floor.

“Who knows? Your housemates? Your family? Our friends? Is everyone out there laughing at me?”

“No, of course not, nobody knows.”

That struck me as a little odd. Why would a ‘single’ girl keep a relationship which had progressed to the level of ‘love’ secret from everyone she knows?

Confused, I asked a rather naive question.

“And have you slept together?”

“Babe…” she shook her head and raised her hands like it was an inappropriate question to ask.

“I need to know.”

“Well of course we have, we’re not kids.” She snapped.

That was clear enough. At this thoroughly expected news, for some reason I felt my cock stirring. I dismissed it and pressed on. I had to ask the killer question, I’d skirted around it long enough.

“How long has it been going on?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters, and please tell me the truth, I deserve that. Promise me you’ll tell me the truth whatever it is.”

“I promise.” She muttered meekly.

“So, how long?”

“August.”

“August!” I repeated. She’d only started there in mid-July.

“So you’ve been together 3 months?”

“Not 3. It was the 8th August. And we’re not ‘together’ as such.”

She mimed air-quotes around the word ‘together’. She’d remembered the exact date.

“Not together? You’ve been sleeping with him. You were cheating on me for over a month.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was shaking now.

“How can you not be together? Unless he’s just casually stringing you along, the fucking tosser.”

“No, we’re much more than casual – and don’t call him names, he’s nice.”

I couldn’t believe the insensitivity on her part, defending him to me.

“Oh yeah he sounds really nice.” I snapped sarcastically.

“Chasing after a girl he knows is in a long-term relationship, breaking it up and then not even wanting to be with you himself?”

“Can’t you see he’s using you? You’re probably just one of a long line of impressionable young placement students he’s letched over. Probably a regular laugh to see who can fuck the placement girl first. He’s just using you for sex.”

As I said that last bit, I realised how turned on I was.

I was driven by anger, but also increasingly by lust. For some reason I couldn’t quite understand, I’d never wanted her more than I did right at that moment.

As I briefly contemplated this, she was on the verge of tears again.

“No!” she cried. “It’s not like that… he does want to be with me, but…”

But before she could continue I grabbed her head firmly and was kissing her frantically. At first she was stunned and didn’t respond for a few seconds, but nor did she fight me off.

Then she gradually started to relax into it and began to kiss back. We made out for several minutes as I lovingly stroked her hair and face.

As we sat kissing side-by-side on her bed, I slipped my hand down her side to her lap, and then onto her left leg which i began to stroke the outside of. Her skin was so smooth and before long I’d crept up her skirt to her bum as she leaned into me.

I felt what were clearly a pair of ordinary, day-to-day knickers covering most of her slightly chubby cheeks.

She seemed really into it, like on the rare drunken occasions we’d hooked up since we split. But as my hand crept over the top of her leg towards her crotch and clumsily began to pull her un-sexy knickers down she pulled back, as if shaken into sense and said “No, stop, we can’t do this, I’m… it’s too weird.”

She hadn’t removed my hand, and I could sense that she didn’t really want to stop. I began kissing her face gently again, and although she didn’t respond, she didn’t stop me either.

After a minute of gently and lovingly planting kisses on her face, I moved to her right ear and neck, eliciting the odd encouraging moan from Beth.

“You’re making this really hard.” She whispered.

My hand moved up away from her lap and onto her left breast.

“Relax.” I whispered back.

“If you want me to stop I will, we can do as much or as little as you want to do.”

As I caressed her breast through her top she lent back slightly, using her outstretched arms to support herself behind her on the bed, giving me fuller access to her hot, curvy body.

I took this as a sign that she didn’t want me to stop – yet. Proceed with caution.

I slipped the straps of her top and bra off her left shoulder, quickly followed by the right. As I peeled down her top to reveal those fabulous B-cups, all I could think about was how she had given herself to her lover for the first time.

When had it happened?

Where?

Was it planned or did it ‘just happen’?

Had he been gentle or rough?

Imagining the answers to these questions made me as hard as a rock.

Beth moaned as I began to kiss and lick her nipples while she slipped her arms out of the loose-hanging straps. Without breaking stride I carefully moved her supporting arms and laid her back on the bed. Her eyes were scrunched closed, clearly lost in her own thoughts. I kissed back up her neck and then onto her lips, but she flinched and turned her head to the side. I tried a second time, but again she moved her head away.

“No.” She whispered, with a little shake of her head.

At first I was confused, but quickly realised she was fantasising about him, and didn’t want my kisses breaking that fantasy. Weirdly, this didn’t make me angry or upset – my anger was gone, replaced with desire – it only turned me on more.

I was playing this totally blind – what could I get away with and what would cause her to retreat? My pleasure was now directly linked to the fantasy spinning around in her head.

Kissing lips seemed to be out, but touching and kissing everywhere else didn’t seem to be a problem, so I returned to kissing her neck, breasts and – tentatively – over her bunched-up top and down to her tummy. No sign yet that she wanted to stop.

As I kissed her tummy and licked her belly-button, I traced my hands down the front of her body to her hips. Still ok. Then over her hips and skirt to the top of her legs.

I was back to where we were 10 minutes ago when she’d told me to stop because it was too weird. However, two things were now different.

First, I now suspected that indulging her fantasy was the key to getting inside her.

Second, she was way more turned on now and would hopefully find it harder to stop.

As I lay further down the bed alongside her, I squeezed her bum roughly in both hands, her knickers still pulled slightly slightly down on one side from earlier. Beth moaned softly in pleasure and raised her hips off the bed towards me. Was she encouraging me to undress her? That was what this move meant when we were together?!

As I glanced up I saw she was rubbing her exposed breasts with both hands, still with her eyes scrunched tightly closed. I gambled and unzipped her skirt, sliding it down her legs and off, with no resistance. Her raised hips softly landed back on the bed.

My hand returned to her bum – the safe zone – and I continued to squeeze.

I nuzzled ever lower on her stomach until the tiny bow on top of her boring black knickers touched my chin.

I wanted nothing more than to pull them to one side and drive my tongue as far into her cheating pussy as possible at that point, as false images of Beth – my Beth – spreading her legs for her lover ran through my head.

When was she last with him?

Was he better than me in bed?

Did he have a bigger cock?

Did she cum when they had sex?

As I looked at Beth lost in her fantasy, I was 99% sure she wouldn’t stop me if I continued to move my tongue downwards. I was so close I could smell her sex. We were both having the same unspoken fantasy, both imagining Beth with her lover, and at that point I felt a closer bond with her than I ever had before.

Her left hand dropped to her pussy and she started rubbing herself through her knickers. This only lasted a couple of seconds before she raised herself off the bed again – enough to pull them fully out from under her bum and a few more inches down her legs, right in front of my face.

In doing this, she revealed a totally bald pussy. Bare. Hairless. Glistening and as smooth as silk. I’d never seen anything like it, let alone on Beth.

She started masturbating frantically.

Never having seen Beth so exposed before, I stared in awe at this sight for a few moments. The fact that she’d stopped bothering to trim-up downstairs for me towards the end of our relationship should have hurt. She was clearly making the effort again for her mystery man, but it wasn’t hurtful – at least not right then – it was HOT.

I slid her knickers completely out of the way and quietly unbuttoned and pushed my jeans down far enough to release my aching cock. I needed to be ready to slide into Beth the moment I detected it was what she wanted too – and I felt the time was fast approaching.

I leaned over her body to plant kisses on her left shoulder, then upper-arm, elbow and forearm. I kissed onward down to her wrist, then the back of her hand as it buzzed back and forth across her clit. I had also begun stroking my rock-hard cock.

Beth was openly masturbating in front of me, something she had always been too shy to do in the past when I’d asked. As I rested my cheek on the inside of her right thigh, her manicured and unfaithful pussy was mere inches from my face. I took in the fabulous sight of her pleasuring herself for a minute or so, trying to etch the image into my mind in case this was the only time I ever saw it.

If she’d opened her eyes she’d have seen me doing to myself exactly what she was doing to herself. She must have detected it, I thought, by my movements. But she was too wrapped up in her own self-pleasure to pay much attention.

I scooted up the bed a little to resume kissing her perfectly-sized breasts and get into the right sort of position to achieve my ultimate goal.

As I kissed her curvy body, nothing was said between us. There was only the sound of our combined heavy breathing and gentle slapping of wet flesh as we both masturbated ourselves harder and faster.

Our bodies were now closely touching – her right side resting against my chest as I leaned over her, barely able to stop myself from moving in to kiss her.

She definitely knew what I was doing to myself now, even without looking.

I didn’t mean to speak, but it just slipped out as if someone else had control of my mouth.

“Are you thinking about him right now?” I whispered, already knowing the answer.

For about 20 seconds she didn’t respond, eyes tightly closed, breathing heavily, wholly concentrating on the job she was doing on herself, biting her bottom lip as she focussed. Then suddenly…

“Mmm hmm.” With a little nod of her head.

“What are you thinking about?” I probed.

Another short period of silence. She opened her mouth to answer but hesitated and closed up again, trying to shut herself off. I continued to kiss and caress her body as we pleasured ourselves.

“It’s ok, you can tell me babes. What are you thinking about?”

Her eyes flickered open briefly to take in my face, and then glanced down to see me stroking my hard cock. The whole encounter had lasted a only a second, but she’d seen everything.

Her eyes closed and her head tilted shyly away from me. A small smirk grew across her face as she continued working on herself.

“You don’t want to know.” She whispered, engaging with me properly now for the first time since she’d batted away my kisses some 20 minutes ago.

“I really, REALLY do.” I responded, as I hungrily sucked and kissed her right breast.

Another pause.

“Well you certainly SEEM interested…” she playfully teased, as the back of her redundant right hand reached up and stroked my chest.

“But we all say things we wish we hadn’t in the heat of the moment. I’m afraid you’ll regret asking.”

I was so desperate to get inside her now I’d have said anything – done anything – to put her at her ease. Plus I was strangely – equally – desperate to hear her fantasy.

I stopped playing with myself for a second and placed my hand on the inside of her thigh. My slick cock smeared a tiny line of pre-cum on her leg as it rested there while she masturbated herself.

“Beth. I promise I won’t regret asking. I want to hear what you’re thinking about, whatever it is. Please share it with me.”

“You’re into this, aren’t you?” she grinned, without looking at me. She waited a few seconds and drew the correct conclusion from my lack of an answer.

“Me and him…” she whispered.

“The first time.”

She paused, letting the fact sink-in with me that she was jerking off in front of her ex-boyfriend thinking about the first time she cheated on him with her lover.

“Carry on.” I said, now gently moving my hand in circles on her leg, inches from her sex.

“We were out for the work summer party.”

“Where?”

“In town, The Picture House, then The Escape.”

“What did you wear?”

My hand slowly moved higher, towards her naked crotch.

“My white summer dress, with the fruits on it.”

“Mmmm, that’s pretty thin babe, and pretty short. What ELSE did you wear?”

She looked confused, but soon giggled when she caught my meaning.

“Naughty boy!” She said, as she playfully poked my stomach with her elbow.

“That’s getting a bit personal isn’t it?”

“Says the girl with her legs spread, wanking herself off in front of me.”

She instantly bought both hands up to her mouth to suppress a laugh. This left her completely exposed. I wasted no time in replacing her hand with my own. She gasped as I picked up where she left off by circling her clit as she submitted and let her hands relax onto her chest.

I could see the slick wetness all over the fingers on her left hand. The aroma of sex was strong and I reached out my tongue to lick, and then suck her sweet juices off each of her fingers, one-by-one.

Her other hand reached out and encircled my shaft firmly, and began slowly sliding up and down.

I had her exactly where I wanted her. It was now only a matter of climbing aboard and I’d be sliding into her warm, welcoming tunnel with little resistance. At least that was my guess.

But for some crazy reason, I couldn’t NOT continue the story – I was engrossed, I HAD to know what happened next. I had an almost open goal, and I was choosing to miss.

“So what did you wear underneath?” I asked again.

“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Aren’t YOU?” I teased back.

“Oh yes…” she groaned.

“Well there’s not much I CAN wear with that dress is there?”

“You mean… you didn’t wear anything?”

“No silly, I’m not a slut. Of course I wore something.”

Luckily she still had her eyes closed and was facing shyly away from me or she’d have seen me raise my eyebrows at the ‘not a slut’ comment.

“So what then? Must have been tiny?” I pressed.

“A new one, you haven’t seen it. Very thin, white, a bit lacey. Not very comfy to be honest.”

“So why did you wear it? Part of a matching set?” I asked.

“It is, but I didn’t need it to be. You know I can’t wear a bra with that dress.”

I had a flashback to a friend’s wedding she’d worn that dress to. It was one of my favourites and yes, she definitely couldn’t wear a bra. That dress hugged her curvy hips so tightly I was genuinely worried it might rip when she sat down. The skirt bit then floated out down to around mid-thigh. It’s an instant hard-on whenever I see her in it.

“So why did you wear that particular one underneath if it was so uncomfortable?”

“I bought it new for the occasion.”

“Why?” I asked, wanting her to say it out loud.

“Because.”

“Because…?”

“Because I only had plain, boring ones otherwise. Like these.” She gestured to the knickers crumpled around her ankles.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Not sexy. Didn’t feel sexy in them.”

“So you wanted to feel especially sexy?”

“Yes.”

“Was FEELING sexy for yourself the whole reason? Was there not, perhaps, another reason behind buying the new underwear?”

“Maybe… I don’t know… Yes, perhaps… And…”

She’d paused again, too shy to continue.

“And? And what?” I helped her out.

“What was the other reason besides wanting to feel sexy? You wanted to…”

“…look sexy” she shyly whispered, cringing and squirming a bit as she answered, partly due to embarrassment and partly due to the fingering I was giving her.

“Who’s the naughty one now?” I chuckled.

“You wanted to look sexy in case anyone saw them, totally understandable. And for the record you look fucking hot in today’s pair. So anyway, the Picture House…”

“We kissed!” She blurted out. Like an excited schoolgirl who couldn’t wait to tell her friends the hot gossip.

“Right there in the bar? In front of all the work people?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, I told you, they don’t know.”

I was still confused by the whole issue of who knows what, but I decided to let that lie for the time being.

“So what happened? Who kissed who?”

“He kissed me. In that little alcove by the toilets, you know, where we…”

“I remember.” We’d been there together a couple of times right at the start of her placement.

“Where I fingered you that time.”

In spite of the fact we were currently masturbating each other, me actually saying that made her squirm again with embarrassment. Too cute.

“So how did you end up there alone with him?”

“We’d been flirting and teasing each other at work for weeks, I knew he fancied me but it was complicated.”

“For weeks?” I queried.

“So basically you’d been flirting with him since day one?”

“Yes… sorry… but not seriously at first… it was just me trying to fit in with the banter… you understand right?”

With Beth expertly stroking my cock, I didn’t feel like making an issue out of it.

“How did you know for sure he fancied you?”

“It wasn’t the first time we kissed.”

The revelations just kept on coming. They’d kissed BEFORE the summer party.

“What do you mean? I’m lost.”

“We’d kissed before. A few times.” My cock lurched.

“What? When? And if nobody knows, where? His place?”

“Err no, definitely NOT his place!” she said immediately, like I’d asked a totally ridiculous question. I had a feeling this was an involuntary slip by her. Another one to mentally note down and come back to later.

She quickly continued “In his car. He gives me lifts into work and home sometimes.”

“Go on.”

“We’d been flirting a lot one day. He’d already offered me a lift home so I wondered if something might happen. He pulled up outside mine and we just sat there in silence, the tension was overwhelming”.

“We looked at each other and he leaned in. I leaned back and we kissed.”

“Show me how.” I leant in slowly.

Even with her eyes closed she felt me leaning in and turned further away. “No, no kissing.” She whispered.

“Why? We were kissing earlier, and we’re doing a lot more than kissing now in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re fooling around now sure, but we’re not together, it doesn’t mean anything. Kissing earlier was a mistake. Kissing is intimate, personal.”

“So you’re basically saying that you don’t want to kiss me because you’re already taken? Like kissing is cheating?”

“Mmm hmm.” She confirmed.

The irony and hypocrisy of her stance was not lost on me.

“So when did you actually kiss for the first time? Had it happened often since? How far had you gone by the time of the party?”

“The first time was probably towards the end of July.”

Wow, that was within a couple of weeks of her starting there. We hadn’t broken up until mid-September. Every new confession explained a bit more of what I’d been living through for the past few months.

“I tried to fight it but it ended up becoming a regular thing for us when he gave me lifts and I started looking forward to it.”

“We fooled around a little too, but the lack of a place to go was a limitation.”

“Fooled around? Like how?”

“Oh you know, touching, things like that.”

“Touching? Like this?”

I increased my pace on Beth, who moved her spare hand behind her head to rest on as her other hand continued to wank me.

“Oh yeah, like ALL of this.”

So they’d gotten each other off, in the car by the sounds of it.

“Anything else?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Tell me.”

“After the pub one evening I was pretty drunk.”

“I like drunk Beth, she’s fun. What happened?” Beth giggled.

“I… I gave him a blow job… In an alleyway.”

“Holy shit” I whispered as I imagined innocent Beth playing the slut, on her knees in an alleyway with a cock between her lips and a mouthful of cum. While she had a boyfriend.

I fought back the urge to cum right then with all my might.

“Did you…”

“Yes.” she interjected. “You know I always do. It’s rude not to.”

My head was spinning.

“So I guess you went deliberately with him to the alcove then? He didn’t suddenly pounce on you? Him kissing you was… sort of… expected?”

“Mmm yes. But it was different. It felt even more dangerous than normal, work people could have walked past and seen us easily.”

“But they didn’t?”

“No. Or if they did they haven’t said anything.”

“How long were you there?”

“No idea, I’d drunk quite a bit by then, but that’s all we did, kiss. Well, and touch a bit.”

“So what happened next?”

“We’d agreed with the rest that we’d head to the Escape at half-eleven He noticed the time and we rejoined the group.”

I knew Beth too well. After a few drinks she gets pretty horny, and after her little alcove meeting her new underwear would have been very damp indeed.