Educating Laura Ch. 02

Satisfied I'd been sensitised to his touch, Richie reached for my shorts. A sharp tug got them down, still buttoned, my practical black pants with them.

"Lovely."

He shoved the clothing down to just above my knees. I saw him run a finger over the damp gusset of my pants, then bring it to his nose to inhale, with every sign of pleasure.

He ran his hands over my exposed buttocks, then turned my pelvis some degrees, presumably so he could see it better. Then he shifted his rucksack into the inside of the tent, and lay back with his head and shoulders on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Oi, stay there!" He amended, "I'd like you to stay there. I'm enjoying the view."

I raised an eyebrow, rather than wasting my breath to ask, 'but seriously, what the fuck are you doing?'

"You want a good, long fucking, right? Well, I'll get onto my second wind and we'll be good." He undid his flies

and pulled out his cock, whacking it onto his abdomen with all the easy familiarity of any guy who's reached adulthood.

Richie started to tug at his cock, languidly, still gazing at me.

"It'll be quickest if I get myself off. Of course, I could just take my time..."

He let his eyes run from my bowed head to my tits, down to my arse, all around, back up again, while his hand began to slide faster.

"Get on with it. You want to be inside me, right?" Two could play at sexy talk.

"Sure I do. But I also like looking at you. Look, a woman sticking her naked tits out, arms up to show them off! And her arse on show too, all round and gorgeous. Shame there's no space for you to stand up in here so you could show off your lovely cunt too. How about we go outside, you bend over and lean over the tent, hold onto that bar from outside?"

The thought of a breeze over my bum-crack was exhilarating; the chances of breaking my home less so. Even discounting the exhibitionism.

"No! There's no spare, if I snap this tent!"

"Ah. Fair point. I suppose you'd say no to just being in the field, too? Yeah. What about the staff tent? You could stand up in there?"

I considered it momentarily, but the infinitesimal risk of discovery, with no possible justification, had me shaking my head.

"Nice idea, but no. Just in case. Andy might have forgotten something, or Mr Jones might deliver more eggs, or anything! What would you do then?"

Richie, mind only on his cock and on my shape in front of him, muttered, "You mistake me for someone who'd give a shit."

I raised the other eyebrow, for variety.

He continued, as if I weren't there, "I don't care if someone sees my arse. Or my dick. Why should I? I mean, I don't want to be done for indecent exposure, but beyond that..."

"Not afraid of nude pics getting emailed round the world?"

"Hardly. When do you ever see men's pics sent round to gawp at? Oh. I see. You have a valid concern." He stopped stroking himself. "Naked men, mildly amusing, e.g. rugby players mooning. Naked women, sluts who deserve derision and rape?"

I lowered my arms, defensively. It was a reflex.

"Fuck, I hate double standards! Don't you worry, Laures. I won't be taking any pictures and wouldn't think any less of you if I saw any from anyone else, yeah? You OK?"

"Yeah. Just, you're right. Sixth form got nasty. I mean, I'd never let anyone take pics, but it happened to a couple girls. Photos being passed round, all the lads laughing, the girls pretending to laugh along. Sorry, I'm getting all emotional on you."

"Understandable. Um, what am I supposed to say now?" He exhaled. "They say men want to solve problems while women want to vent and get emotional support, but I've never read what emotional support actually means..."

I laughed. "Bless you. You know, just asking what I'd like you to do? That's way more awareness than most men have. And you going 'that sounds shit', rather than 'oh, girls shouldn't get so uptight', when it's not so much the nudity, it's what guys -- and other women -- assume that's the problem!"

"You mean I've actually got some social skills?"

"You've got your heart in the right place, I reckon. With people you rate, any road. If you can manage to disguise your contempt for everyone else, you'll probably go far."

He sighed. "If only you knew, how much I restrain myself already."

"I'll take your word for it. In the meantime, do you want to get back to what you were doing?"

"Sure. Of course. Could you pose again? Just so I can fix it in my mind, for future imagining... I wish I really had a photographic memory, like people accuse me of having..."

I obliged. His laid-back smile as he reclined and took care of his hard-again cock, clearly appreciating his view of my body, was sexy as hell.

My eyes trailed from Richie's face down his chest, to where his hand rested on his open shorts, cock sticking out from its usual hiding place. Much as I didn't like being sent dick pics -- invariably from some guy I barely knew -- this, watching a man who was turned on by me, was pure erotica.

Richie's face contorted, eyes unfocused. The spray of cum went everywhere, much on my chest, mostly on Richie's shorts.

"Whatever. It's not like anyone'll be sniffing my crotch in the pub." He came to wipe me off, settling for rubbing the goo into my skin, instead. Some clung to his fingers, which he held to my mouth. I licked them as erotically as I could.

He licked the rest from his fingers himself, commenting, "I mean, it can't be the taste that stops men doing it with other men. It's not that different from women. Is it? Or is my cum weird?"

"Ever the scientist! I suppose, yours is on the less sour end?"

"I eat a lot of fruit."

"Might be it. And you're lovely and clean."

"You mean some men expect... when they're not? You're really putting me more off men by the minute."

"That's all right. I'm here, remember?" I swung my arms about to stop them getting stiff.

A big smile beamed at me. "Ah, yes. Good. How would you like it?"

"You're up for a second round already?"

That annoyed, puzzled look. "No. But by the time you've got comfortable and I've teased you a bit and got you proper gagging for it, I will be."

"You know, I'm really starting to appreciate your methodical approach to sex." I sprawled out on my back, then recalled the hard ground, and rolled over, curling round to look back at him in what I hoped was a seductive manner.

Given he was already sufficiently seduced, it didn't matter.

Richie rolled a possessive hand all over my arse. "I like this." His hand pushed between my legs. "I like this, too. You are wet!"

It was true. I was dripping over his fingers as he worked them inside me. Two fingers spread, then one from each hand, pulling me open.

Oh, man! That was so good. Air reached parts of me never before touched. I wanted that hole spread around something solid, now.

Floomp! He dropped to lie behind me. Then, at last, more happened. Two fingers pressed inside me. Another two fingers carefully eased round all my complex folds, filling me wide as a cock, but pulling sideways instead of pushing inwards.

It was exquisite.

Erotic. New. Gentle.

All wrong, dirty, and thus hot in my twisted and tangled mind. Most of all, it highlighted how much I wanted to be taken deep and hard.

"Want you. Now."

"You've got me, sweetheart."

"Sarcastic bastard."

Nothing changed.

I sighed. "Bloody pedantic bastard, and all. Just fuck me, will you?"

"Fuck, yeah."

There was a pause, during which my vagina became horribly empty. I realised Richie was pulling a condom from the pocket of the shorts he was still wearing, and applying it, needing both hands.

"OK. Which hole would you like?"

Surprised, I clenched my bum tight as I told him, "The usual, thank you."

"Cool. Just offering. Anal's great and all, I love it, but I bet it would be shit if the woman weren't really relaxed and wanting it, right? Best use this great desperate wet hole here, is that right?"

"Right." The idea that Richie had fucked a woman's arse, and insisted on it being pleasurable for her, turned me on another notch higher.

I'd never tried it, myself. Either didn't trust the guy, or they weren't up for it. Or we were both drunk, so I doubted their finesse.

I had, however, thought about it. Possibly another for the list of things to try with Richie and his large cock? Once I had a bed and four walls again.

Richie forced the tip of his cock into me.

"So good," I told him.

Then he began to pat my bum. More like tapping, with the lengths of his fingers, than slaps or smacks; rhythmic, quick, repetitive, all over my arse.

It kept going, rather pleasantly. I pushed myself back onto his cock, back on all fours.

Being filled was so satisfying.

Warmth from the light spanks spread across my bottom. It didn't really hurt, but it sensitised the whole area, where normally I wouldn't feel much at all.

I pushed back into him, desperate to keep that filled feeling. The spreading tender area, where I felt every impact, was good too.

"Oh, yes," I gasped, sliding down his solid cock, until I felt him against my cervix, the limit, and only a tickle of his hair touching my arse.

His spanking was ramping up, or was it just me getting sore? The odd thing was, it didn't hurt, exactly. I felt the impacts, and heat, and an even more urgent need to thrust myself onto his cock, up and down.

He stopped with his hands.

I felt bereft. I wanted that sensation to add to the one of being fucked.

"Nooo! More!"

He changed to gently punching my arse with his fists. Pummelling, lightly, not wanting to cause actual pain or injury.

It might be sick and twisted and perverted, but I loved it. I possibly wouldn't if I didn't have a big cock inside me at the same time. But I did, making it all merge into one satisfying feeling, of being hammered in aroused, sensitive areas.

I stopped caring about hypothetical people nearby. I let myself moan, loud and high-pitched.

More a scream, one might say.

Behind me, Richie made deep guttural noises. It was nice to know that he wasn't a sex robot; he was feeling it too.

He switched to simply stroking my arse, all reddened and reactive. I gasped, hiccuped, loved it.

"More!"

"Don't want to harm you." He took a breath, managed to speak normally. "I mean, I've seen videos, suggesting how much people can take, but I don't want to, I don't know, whack your pelvic bones out of shape, or something!"

"Suppose. I'd have thought anything on the fleshy parts would be fine -- think of the classic 'six of the best' with a cane..."

Richie groaned. "I'm now thinking of how that would look on you, god, yes..."

He thrust harder than he had been, having slowed his pace to talk. "You've been considering such things, I take it? Mm. I'm liking your mind more and more, Laura..."

After another deep breath, he added,

"You lovely, filthy, pervert!"

All complimentary words in his opinion, I could tell. Not just because his riding me got more vigorous and enthusiastic. I dropped my upper body to the floor, angling my bum to let him plough me even deeper.

"Oh, ye gods!" Deep satisfaction pulsed all through my body.

The heavy breaths behind me merged into a low chuckle. Richie was clearly loving all this. Both the having sex with me, and the effect he was having on me.

He rocked to one side; the powerful thrusting paused. I clenched around his cock to encourage it, reminding myself I was being penetrated. Like a right slut.

Then I felt a moist touch, round my arsehole.

A wet finger. He must have sucked it.

It found my tighter hole, pushed against the tight puckered skin, forced its way in.

Only a small invasion, only a half-inch deep, but so dirty.

It didn't hurt, though I guessed it might if pushed further.

That didn't stop me pushing back to impale myself further into his cock, letting his knuckle sink into my butt.

The very concept of anal penetration was filthy.

Now I embraced it. While getting fucked. By a guy who'd been spanking me.

And his cock was thick and hard, and so, so good, filling me up...

His finger was like a cherry on top of this great sex. Every thrust of his brushed my slightly-sore arse, made his finger waggle inside my tight bum.

All fantastic. Total physical and emotional overload, from a guy who'd been a near-stranger a week ago.

I couldn't control my voice at all, any more.

Just as well no-one else was in the field. Or maybe they were, and I was beyond caring? Huge groans escaped my throat. I felt every deep stroke of his cock, loving that possessiveness of him being inserted in my arse too, getting off on the heady mix of all the sensations.

My whole body shook: an immense screaming, crying orgasm.

Would I be spoilt for any other man, now? I hoped not.

I heard another cry, behind me. Clearly Richie wasn't unaffected. His stamina had been impressive, but now he collapsed alongside me.

He caught his breath fast, though. "God, you're good!"

I was a bit confused, feeling I'd mostly just been done-to and been reacting to him. I toyed with his earlobe piercings. "Huh?"

"You actually like sex. How it feels; how it could feel with a bit of practice."

"Well, yeah. Most people do, surely?"

He shook his head. "Usually, they get gagging for it, then I slip the cock in, they giggle, maybe come, then just want to get all snuggly and emotional. Trying to make sex even better physically -- moving about, trying to squeeze my cock -- not interested. Let alone talking about it. Tell me I'm disgusting if I try discussing it, after. Or worse, during..."

"You're not disgusting! You're a man who wants his partner to have a good time. That's... Pretty rare, actually. Not prioritising getting your own rocks off."

Richie continued that sad head-shake. "People ask why I don't try to be more normal. That's why. Why would I want to be like that?"

"You be you, mate. I mean, sure, try to figure out when you're offending people you don't want to be, but otherwise -- there's a lot to be said for some morals and making your partner have a good time."

I continued, "Of course, it could be that I'm just a sick filthy slut, and we just happen to be similar that way? But since college I've at least met more interesting people. Interesting sexually as well as other ways, I mean. And none I have to pretend to look dim in front of. Several I probably look dim in comparison with, actually." Him, for example.

"I never pretended."

I sighed. "I wanted people to hang out with, in school and sixth-form. I would have said 'friends,' but having to act being less clever, not knowing stuff? I suppose they weren't..." I managed a weak smile. "It was a revelation, the first time I attempted a cryptic crossword in the common room at college. Everyone either joined in or ignored, no-one taking the piss, going 'ooh, get you!'..."

"Pretend friends? Was that less lonely than having no-one?"

I considered. "Yes, actually. When we did have fun, laughing at the same movies, talking about music, taking the piss out of teachers -- that was good. It was worth doing, not scaring them off."

"Rather you than me."

"Sure. When we meet again, I'll pretend less. Not so much acting, as just only showing one side, I suppose. I mean, they know what uni I'm at."

"But do they know what you're like? Sexually?"

"Sonya does. I wonder what you'd think of her. She's not clever at all in the intellectual sense -- only got four GCSEs -- but she's smart and wise when it comes to people. And a right laugh on a night out, full of dirty jokes. Likes all sorts in bed, not that I'm telling you. Yeah, I think she might be a real friend."

"That's nice for you." A dull, possibly envious tone?

"You chill, mate. Don't write people off, and you might get some real friends too. Thanks for coming down, by the way."

I thought I detected a real smile. "You're welcome. Happy to do it again in a fortnight."

That would be my last weekend here. "Maybe. Though I'll be back in college, ten days later." I hoped to stay at Pete's or Andy's for those last three nights.

"You, me, a bed?"

"And a room. You're on," I agreed.

"Good. Here's a cloth -- time to wash and get down the pub before that Andy wonders what we've been up to!"

"He'll have made an educated guess. The man's not daft," I replied.

"No. You should go for it."

"What?" What was Richie trying to engineer?

"You heard. He's all worried about his job, right? Doesn't want to mess things up with his bosses right here, nor Ali because he's got to keep working with her. You, though... I'm right, aren't I, that after the last day of camp, you never have to see him again?"

"True..."

"And he'd love to. Trust me."

I didn't bother replying, just dug out my cleanest clothes. "Ready for a wander to the pub?"

"Sure."

He gave me a wee conspiratorial nod as we emerged from the tent and stood up, stretching. Most guys would have gone for a hug or a kiss, or both.

"Do you really not like hugging or kissing?"

He shrugged, looked off into the distance. "Kissing skin, I like. Tastes good. Mouth to mouth? It's a bit... wet."

"But you seemed to like going down on me. Or did you?"

"That's different. It's..." He couldn't find the word. "Tasty? Fun?"

"Fair enough. What about hugs?"

Tension appeared round his eyes, as if I'd reminded him of something upsetting.

"I like hugs. Just, I do it too hard. People complain. Or I try not to, and they say it's creepy..."

My heart ached for him. "May I have a hug, and you react to feedback?"

"OK." His tone was back to impassive.

I reached round him. He put his arms round me. I liked the firmness, until it was too much.

"Looser!" I squealed before I couldn't speak for the pressure.

He let go, sadly.

"Try again. Just a little bit looser."

He did. "That's good. Tight side, still good. No, too much... There. Firm. Good."

"Huh."

I tried to reciprocate his strong embrace.

He let his face rest on my head. "That's nice," I reassured him.

"Good."

It was, however, blatantly sexual. One hand was pulling my arse into his groin. I could feel him starting to get stiff again.

"Just to let you know, I can tell you're getting hard."

"Mm. Is that a problem?"

"With me? No. For a friendly hug with friends you aren't fucking, yes! They shouldn't be able to feel the cock. And you shouldn't be feeling up their arse."

He shifted his hand, and me slightly to his side. "Better?"

"Very conventional. Nice, though." We both stayed in position for a minute.

"Not nearly as good," he grumbled.

I pulled away and patted him on the shoulder. "Fair enough, but at least now you know how to hug without getting accused of indecent assault! Come on, you, let's get lunch."

Fifteen minutes later, we found Andy, who pushed a newspaper towards us. "Ah, the brain boxes. 6 Across and 27 Down, please."

"Parochial," Richie replied, seeing the clue 'Insular, 9'.

"Aerosol," I said simultaneously, reading 'Pressurised substance dispersed as a fine cloud, 7'

I turned to give Richie a high-five, only he didn't realise what was happening so I had to simply clap the air myself. But he smiled when Andy chuckled.

"Good to have you guys here. I'm having roast lamb. You?"

Andy did the honours at the bar, bringing back drinks for us. He seemed amused by me and Richie.

The meals were large and good. I returned from the ladies' after to find Andy as chatty as I'd ever seen, talking to Richie.

"Ah, I shouldnae have been judgemental. I never thought Laura would cope with this life, even once I saw her dealing admirably with the bairns in London, but she seems to have adapted like a duck to water."

"Ah, well, that's the Yorkshire for you. She's used to a hovel without plumbing or electric."