Dottily Here Again

In fact, do it tomorrow.

Or better yet, do it yesterday.

Anyway, I burrowed my way through her glorious bush and imbibed like a waterless woman fated to crawl across an arid desert. In response Gloria ululated on my tongue, regularly and strongly, issuing breathless words of encouragement all the while.

As if I needed any encouraging. Far as I was concerned all those words and gasps, moans and groans were appreciated but not in any way necessary.

Eating her for all eternity wouldn't have been a problem.

But out of nowhere she was pulling me off by the ears. Terrified I had been doing something wrong, I stared up at her.

'Fuck me,' she said in response. 'Throw me on that bed and fuck me.'

That was followed with embarrassed laughter from the glorious barmaid. 'I don't usually swear like that,' she added. 'I've got it from you. It must be catching But I mean it with all my heart. Do it. Do it right now.'

Somewhere in the labyrinths of my mind I remembered Gloria's role in the Union Bar. And here she was, the ultimate alpha female, the total control freak, begging me to have her on her own bed, her boldness all vanished, transformed from all iron into a velvet fist in a velvet glove.

No, make that beckoning velvet fingers in a sleek, very becoming velvet glove.

'Do it,' she reiterated. 'Fuck me right now.'

Well, I supposed, hard work, but someone has to do it.

Faced with a labour of Hercules (not!) fuck her I did.

And more than just the once.

Hard work or not, neither of us could have enough.

*****

The next few hours were superb. After giving me more than my fair share of activity Gloria took over in a very unforceful way. That's right; she exhibited quite excellent skills at eating, fingering, tribbing and what have you but all with the most delicate touch. Then, don't ask me exactly when, we 69'd a goodly while with me on top.

A goodly while? Bollocks: we did that for a long, long time and the sensations were terrific.

But then, despite those terrific sensations, we fell asleep after pausing to "regain breath".

And lucky, lucky me. Waking up face down into Gloria's tits is a lifetime high of an experience. Briefly relishing it, I sucked the nearest nipple into my mouth and began to play.

Initially, apart from hardening her nipples like instantly, Gloria didn't obviously respond. Okay, so her breathing got heavier but otherwise she left me to get on with the job. Presuming she was sleeping, I kept going, occasionally switching from teat to teat, sometimes using my tongue as well as my lips.

Not to mention the gentlest of gentle nibbles.

'That's so good,' my willing victim sighed after maybe thirty minutes. 'That's so, so good.'

Her hands descended on me, stroking my back, paying particular attention to my shoulder blades. I am normally ticklish when it comes to back-stroking, but I wasn't just then. Just then I could not get enough. And, as the best way to get more seemed to be sticking to the same format, I stuck to it like super glue.

'So good,' she practically crooned. 'So, so good.'

What girl doesn't like to hear such praise for her efforts? I certainly did.

But all things come to an end. Far too soon for my liking Gloria's hands stopped stroking. I felt like I should be booing, hissing and maybe crying but the change turned out to be far from a negative one.

Instead of grabbling me by the ears she pushed me downwards. Yes, down and down until I was face on with her wild bush again.

Trust me, that was no hardship. I ate her that way for simply ages. And I did hiss, boo and cry when it was finally time to stop.

(I'm fibbing about the crying bit, but I really did hiss and boo out loud.)

'We need to be up and doing,' Gloria responded. 'Places to go, things to do.'

'Bugger tutorials,' I countered. 'Let's stay here until opening time.'

'It's pipe cleaning day,' she said patiently. 'I need to get going else I'll miss opening altogether.'

'You clean the beer pipes?' I asked, impressed in spite of myself.

'Yes, of course I do. There's nothing I can't do behind that bar.'

For some reason that struck both of us as hilarious. We must have laughed like loons for ten minutes or more. Then, reluctantly, we showered, dressed and made our way to the uni.

*****

Home, when I called in as we passed en route, was deserted. Then again it was quarter to nine and Martha would have set off yonks ago. And Michelle had most probably been out all night.

Re-dressing in the blink of an eye, switching to more daytime student clobber, I re-joined Gloria in order to complete our short trek.

'Last night was ace,' she said as we parted, me on my way to K Floor, Gloria bound for D and pints of pump cleaner. 'And you really were splendid. Next time I'll have to do more myself. Assuming there is going to be a next time.'

'There's going to be loads of next times,' I assured her. 'Leave it with me a couple of days to plot and scheme.' Then, unable to resist the temptation, I added, 'Trust me, I'll be back.'

I meant it too. If I'd been splendid Gloria had been off the scale. And I was really intrigued to find out what her version of doing "more" entailed. After last night I'd have tried anything with her, including whips and chains.

*****

At my uni tutorials were held in much smaller rooms than lectures. Some of the tutorial classes were smaller than classes back in the Upper Sixth. Consequently, I didn't arrive with bare seconds to spare without being noticed. Ignoring all the knowing looks, I took a seat beside Michelle and tried my best not to squeal when her hand landed on my leg under cover of our desk-like table.

Take it from me, Michelle is expert at touching up under cover of desk-like tables.

And I should know; we'd only been an item for a matter of weeks, and I'd been touched up by her at least twice a day, Monday to Friday.

That being outside of bedrooms, where I'd been fucked virtually 24/7.

Omigod, I thought, never mind our separate adventures last night, she's keen for more me.

But how wrong could I be.

Three tutorials and three touching ups later (two by her, one by me), we headed for baguettes and beer in The Union, as per always on a weekday.

'How did last night go?' I ventured as we waited for the prehistoric lift to arrive (by then we were up on N Floor and D was an awful lot of sheer staircases away).

'Brilliantly,' she gushed. 'Loopholes are the product of genius if I say so myself.'

'You would say so yourself,' I observed.

'Didn't yours go well?'

'It went swimmingly if you must know.'

'Then let's have another tonight.'

'What?'

'Let's have another tonight.'

'But I'm due one on Thursday. That'll be three in no time at all. Three in three days, in fact.'

'Who's counting. We can have a big Friday night and spend all weekend in bed together. How fair is that?'

'Who has got under your skin so badly?' I wondered, jealous of her too obvious eagerness.

'I'll tell you sometime this weekend. Have we a goer or what?'

Aware I wanted more weekly loopholes for my own greedy reasons, I cast jealousy aside. 'Okay,' said I, 'but I want full details over the weekend.'

'Worry not, we can share and share alike.' Michelle's grin was ravenous. 'Details, I mean,' she added. 'After all, it's good to talk, isn't it? Especially when it's we girls, talking about our specialist subject of sex, sex, sex.'

Chapter Four

Taking my due turn, I headed for the ladies' rest room as we arrived in The Union. I did need to pee but more prominently I wanted to delay my grand arrival. Short out in public as it was, I had to have been spotted on my date with Gloria, and Gloria was no less than an icon. Bedding her was likely to be worthy of thunderous rounds of applause.

Come to that, in my two and a bit years of knowing her, I'd never heard anyone convinced that she'd strayed off the long, straight and narrow. Never mind thunderous, given a few convinced patrons on Lesbians Corner, the ovation was likely to be cacophonous.

Heart in my mouth, I went into the main body of the barroom.

And instantly relaxed. Michelle was still at the bar, talking to the lady herself, but not in an animated sort of a way. All in the world was well and my only problem was finding a bed-mate for tonight.

If I really wanted one.

Sleep? Who needed sleep. Well, maybe me, a touch, whether I knew it or not.

Back to potential sleeping partners . . .

Gloria did, naturally, cross my mind. But I was only too aware she was "pulling a through", meaning making up for last night by working every hour God sent that day. So, with her out of the equation, I glanced around the habitual denizens of The Corner, seeing no-one who immediately caught my eye.

But then, glancing around the rest of the large barroom, I spotted Lisbeth.

Yes, Lisbeth who'd already made two half-hearted opening moves on me.

Lisbeth who simply had to be fucked ASAP, if not aeons before.

Letting my feet rule my brain I approached her and smiled a (hopefully) winning smile.

'What time's your last tutorial?' I asked, perhaps not brain-dead after all, perhaps being sly.

'It's at three,' she replied cautiously, 'and it's a lecture, so it's not over until four.'

'In that case I'll see you in here at five past four. We are due a night out on the town.'

'Are we?'

Taking her completely by surprise, I kissed her on the lips. Only briefly, but long enough to convey a lot of intent. To my delight, as I broke contact, she threw her arms around me and literally snogged my head off.

That little display did earn a round of applause even if not a thunderous one. No, it was more of an appreciative round of applause, maybe a "what's taken you two so long" sort of a round.

'I'd best be off before Shelly gets annoyed,' I said as we at last, finally, ultimately broke off.

'Don't say she's going to stalk me.'

'No worries about that. She's out alone herself tonight. Well, not alone, but definitely without me.'

'Five past four then, in here.'

'Trust me, I'll be in here waiting for you long before then.'

*****

'Was she last night?' Michelle enquired as I joined her at the bar, doing my best not to wither under Gloria's so-knowing eyes.

'No,' said I as blithe as could be. 'Last night was stupendous. I have my hopes for tonight, but Lisbeth is as yet an unknown quantity.'

'I like unknown quantities,' said Michelle, 'don't you, Gloria?'

To her credit Gloria didn't bat a lash. 'I like sex,' she said instead. 'Unknown or otherwise. And quite unpredictable is beyond marvellous.'

'Does that mean I'm in with a chance?'

Gloria shrugged, bouncing that wonderous chest of hers. 'Never say never,' she said. 'But, right now, I have a pretty full diary. Ask me again after Christmas.'

'Like as a New Year present, you mean?'

'Like who knows where we'll all be then. Let's play it by ear.'

On that the glamorous barmaid turned her (exceptionally well-formed) rear on us and went to serve a few customers who'd been waiting a while. Yes, waiting and grouchily grumbling, but afraid to call to attract her attention.

Split personality or what!

'So,' Michelle began in her absence, 'Rooney's going to get it tonight, is she?'

'I have high hopes, but nothing's set in stone. Who's getting it from you tonight?'

'We're discussing this over the weekend, no?'

'I suppose we are, but it seems to me you know more about my movements than I do about yours.'

'I don't know who you pleasured last night.'

Yippee, what a short-term relief!

Then Michelle crushed me by saying, 'I'm betting on a big-breasted barmaid and I'm envious as fuck.'

'Shelly,' I croaked.

'No, save it for the weekend. We can compare bedtime notes then, can't we. It might even lead us to new escapades, mightn't it?'

Looking across that crowded bar I saw Lisbeth, watching me like a hawk. And the stab of anticipation was a physical pain.

'Okay,' I said out loud, 'we'll save it for the weekend. Make it another part of our game. Meantime I do hope you won't do anything I wouldn't.'

Michelle hooted at that. 'Coming from the girl who's up for everything, that's rather rich.'

Chapter Five

I arrived in The Union twenty minutes early and did my best to make a pint of Marston's last until my date arrived.

And I avoided Gloria as best I could, taking a place on the mostly empty Lesbians Corner, almost as far away from her as possible.

Omigod, my fourth date in less than a week. And that was discounting Michelle as being there to be fucked whenever we both felt like it.

Meaning more of that 24/7 business.

I've previously declared myself as wanton back in the day, when I hunted men like a sex-mad thing. I hadn't ever had so many in such a short time, though. And I hadn't had anything near as many hours of sex, sex, sex, either.

Men were less than everlasting, weren't they? Maybe I'd picked too randomly, but all of those twos, threes and fours had given me the general gist.

Guys couldn't fuck perpetually, girls could.

Bad luck? Me? Well, maybe a corner had been turned.

Yippee!

Bang on the dot (dotty?) at five past Lisbeth showed up. I waved to attract her attention. As if there was any need. That time of day The Union was as quiet as it ever got. She came over to join me and I asked if Marston's fitted her bill. She said it did so off I went to face Gloria.

'Got you at last,' Gloria said in greeting. 'I knew she would.'

'Am I as predictable as that?'

'Not on first acquaintance, but after yesterday I'm starting to wonder.'

'You're still on for a follow-up,' I assured her, sotto voce, 'but I'm still plotting our next liaison. And I beg you, do not hold your breath. I'll give you an update soon enough.'

'Well, if you're really begging for it.'

Back on Lesbians Corner I passed Lisbeth her pint and, correcting me, insisting her name was Liz, she swigged half of it down in one gulp. 'Impressive,' I said. 'But you'll always be Lisbeth to me.'

'I'm nothing like you-know-who,' she countered.

I as good as choked on a large mouthful of bitter myself. 'You're taller but otherwise a dead-ringer,' I said, 'and I want you to be my Lisbeth. Please say you will be.'

She gave me a long stare at that, her dark eyes deep and probing. 'That isn't a proposal,' she said.

'It's a proposal of something,' I replied, 'but not of a rose-covered cottage and happy ever after.'

'Then we're Ike and Mike on that,' she said, surprising me. 'So, what's the plan for tonight?'

'A pub crawl, beers and a curry or two then back to yours. Well, back to wherever you want to go.'

'I prefer home turf,' she said, surprising me again, and in the nicest possible way. 'Let's limit the beer and restrict ourselves to one curry. We can always buy vino on our way back to my place.'

'Why not,' said I, already enraptured. 'Back to yours and the world's our lobster.'

*****

As it happened, we had six pints (well, I'd sneaked in that early, seventh one) and two more over the curry house table. How attentive was that barman! He made Gloria seem as if she didn't care a fuck.

That being the impression she was well capable of giving herself, albeit inaccurate. In reality she was in love with the Union Bar. Nothing mattered to her more than its well-being. She'd die before doing it down in any way.

But she was exceptionally good at hiding her feelings.

Hey, she was a girl after all. Hiding feelings is inborn, isn't it?

Well, isn't it?

'Back to yours?' I prompted as we semi-staggered out of the curry house, arm-in-arm.

'Yes, so it would seem,' Lisbeth replied before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Right there, in a cobbled back street, l kissed her. And I kid you not; there are still lots of old cobbled streets up North, many of them featuring des res homes. Not London prices, obviously, but some of those areas aren't so far off.

Try buying somewhere in Adel or Harrogate and you'll see what I mean.

Anyhow, Lisbeth's flat was dangerously close to Gloria's place. Grateful that The Union would still be open another hour or so, keeping her well out of the way, I let Lisbeth escort me indoors.

Well, after another very, very intimate kiss I did.

At that moment I sincerely thought I was the one leading a girl "astray".

But how wrong was I.

Omigod, what a transformation! I had put Lisbeth down as curious, maybe adventurous but not in an aggressive way.

Safely inside her rather smart abode (by student standards, that is), she locked mouths with me and squeezed my ass like it belonged to Rachel Riley. I responded by pressing my groin against hers and we more or less followed on from there.

(Much like an England cricket team, tee, hee!)

Want to know what happened next? Well, so do I, but I can only give edited highlights.

Remember me describing Lisbeth as relatively petite and much smaller than me? Well, I missed all of the signs. Get indoors with her, away from third party rescue, and she's a force of nature.

Never mind hurricanes or typhoons, she was the real deal.

Yum, yum, yum.

Perhaps influenced by last night's proceedings, I had expected to seize control.

As if!

Lisbeth seized me before I'd had chance to take in our surroundings, making me drop my bottle of dry white onto a fortunately thick carpeted floor, saving us the smash of glass (as if she'd have cared about that!), then she kissed me with a vigour that can never, ever be repeated.

I kid you not; back in The Union she'd kissed me more thoroughly than I'd ever been kissed before.

And that stud had sent lightning bolts through me in the nicest possible way.

Here in her bedroom (and please do not ask how we'd possibly got there), she kissed me like a world record breaker. I haven't actually looked up the world record for kissing but take it from me, Lisbeth was better than best.

She made Usain Bolt look like someone on a Zimmer frame.

I say that with apologies to the fabulous Mr Bolt. Being outrageous as always, I compare best to the best of the best. And Usain would probably win Olympic medals on a Zimmer frame anyway.

I'd have him in bed in the blink of an eye.

And I don't do men anymore.

Honest!

Well, not on the running track.

On the running track he'd beat me, that's for sure.

Yes, he'd chase me and chase me until I caught him. And wouldn't that be fun.

But forget guys, even super-sexy ones. Back to girls.

'Get on the bed,' Lisbeth breathed, at last unclamping our lips. 'Get on there and leave the rest to me.'

Oh yes, this was different; this was Lisbeth.

'Okay,' I said as obligingly as possible. 'Please feel free to do what you will.'

Chapter Six

Forget world record breakers (and all those old BBC programmes featuring Roy Castle, my mum's old favourite singer, trumpet player and tap-dancer), Lisbeth hit on me like the hottest typhoon that had ever been recorded. And I say that in awareness that Gloria had experienced "Hurricane Heather" on a serious number of occasions.

(Apparently Hurricane Heather made Typhoon Tip seem like a gentle, westerly breeze.)

Avoiding comparisons, and in this instance unable to make one, I simply lay back and relished it.

Yes, I relished every lovely, lascivious second of everything. Never mind individual lashes of tongue, I was into all aspects of the occasion. Touch, taste, sound, sight, smell, it was exquisite. Yes, exquisite.

And having a probing finger in my anus, as early as this in proceedings!

Never mind that long-awaited stud finally landing on my clit . . .

Well, what did that promise for the future? Nothing negative, that was for sure.

'Omigod yes,' I sighed, 'take me, I'm yours.'

Suitably encouraged, Lisbeth did.

Yes, again and again and again.

What joy!

*****

Some time later, at stupid o'clock, she left the bed. Sexually exhausted, I did the decent thing and lay there, legs akimbo, more or less ready for more.