Gemma: A Tale of Love

Copyright Andyhm. January 2017

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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This tale an erotic love story. There are no unfaithful girlfriends or wives depicted. It's based on real events that happened to me in the seventies.

I've changed most, but not all of the names and tweaked the locations. Gemma (her real name) was my best friend and lover. We were very close for several years until I went abroad to work. These events took place in the mid 70's, long before email, the Internet or mobile phones. My first overseas contract was for two years and we exchanged letters every couple of days until my first leave. We went away for an emotion filled month long holiday. On my return, we continued to write but drifted apart until the letters finally stopped. It was during this period that I met the woman who was later to become my wife.

This story covers the first few days of our relationship. It's a short, sharp vignette about meeting a magical woman. It's a one-off, and I'm not going to drag it out with a sequel.

With thanks to Blackrandl1958, editor par excellent.

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Gemma: A tale of love.

This story is about the beginning of my relationship with one of the most amazing women it's ever been my luck to know. Back in the mid-seventies, I was living in London. I was a student radiographer at one of the top London teaching hospitals. I was living in student accommodation in Bayswater, which was a vibrant community at the time. It opened my eyes; it was the first time I'd lived away from home.

Living in student accommodation, a run-down old six-story building off Queensway, was a new experience for me. The building housed a mix of student nurses and radiographers. It was an odd place to live. The accommodation was mixed, the majority female. Most of the handful of men were training as nurses; there were only two men on my course. It sounds like heaven; trust me, it wasn't.

I was a couple of years older than most of my fellow students. I'd gone from school to college and then spent a year working to save a nest egg to see me through the almost three years of the course. Most of my companions were eighteen or nineteen and straight from school.

Like many of the people who worked in health care, we worked hard and played even harder. Remember, this was London in the mid-seventies; the music scene was exploding with the punk revolution. London was full of quirky places and even quirkier people, and I took it upon myself, as my God given right, to study, while having the most fun possible.

I'd been studying for almost a year at the beginning of this story. It had been long enough that London was no longer the magical place I remembered from childhood family trips, but not long enough that I hadn't lost my sense of awe.

I met Gemma at a party; I hadn't been the one invited, I was there as Maria and Rachael's safety belt. They were a couple of girls from my course who lived on the same floor as me. Maria had been invited by a guy with whom she'd had a couple of earlier dates. She'd asked Rachael, and they'd both asked me to tag along as a bit of moral support.

As both Maria and Rachael were attractive and friendly girls, I was happy to oblige. I'd gone out with them, as part of a group a few times. The three of us had a kissing friendship that had never passed much beyond that. Friends with benefits wasn't a concept that I think any of us had heard about or even considered at that time.

The party was in Wimbledon, a suburb of London more famous for the tennis tournament. It was at a flat that comprised the whole of the ground floor of a large 1930's house. The party was well underway when we arrived, the music a throbbing background to the night. The music was loud and hypnotic; a DJ had set up in the lounge, which had most of its furniture removed except for a sofa that had been pushed back into an alcove.

I followed the girls into the kitchen. We gave our contribution, three bottles of cheap Spanish red wine to the host, a guy in his late twenties who introduced himself as Damian.

"I don't have the number of the beast tattooed on my head," he joked, and we dutifully laughed.

He added the bottles to the large collection standing on the table that was valiantly trying to resemble a bar. I quickly lost touch with the girls, as Maria spotted her date and they dragged Rachael off to the lounge and into the mass of those dancing.

I found a beer and wandered around for the next hour or so. I had a couple of interesting conversations and then danced with a girl until her boyfriend dragged her away. Bored, I grabbed a fresh beer and a bowl of peanuts and made my way out into the back garden.

It was one of those classic British summer evenings, warm and still with a hint of daylight on the horizon, even though it was almost eleven o'clock. A multitude of fairy lights twinkled in the trees at the bottom of the garden. A patio extended from the back of the building. A table and chairs set to one side. Occupying the chairs were a group of dark shapes. Surrounding the patio was a low wall. I made my way over to it and sat down, sipping gratefully from the bottle in my hand and listening to the incessant throb of the heavy bass beat.

There was the unmistakable scent of cannabis wafting over from the group clustered around the tables. I looked over at them and saw, now that my eyes had adjusted to the low light, that it comprised of four guys and a woman. They looked like your classic long-haired students in jeans and scruffy T-shirts. She was different. She sat with her back to me and my attention was drawn to the long black hair cascading down an elegant blue silk clad back.

There seemed to be quite an intense conversation going on and she was shaking her head. Then I heard her say, "What part of no, don't you dickheads understand?" She stood up and shrugged off the hand that grasped at her forearm.

"Bastards," she growled.

"Bitch," one of them spat back.

She looked around and saw me sitting quietly on the far side of the patio and walked over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" She asked. "Those assholes seem to think if you share one joint with them, you're saying yes to sharing everything else with them."

I gestured to the wall beside me. "Welcome to my humble abode," I said. "I'm Tony," and I held out my hand.

She took it and smiled at me, "Pleased to meet you, I'm Gemma." She sat down beside me.

We could sense the glares from the table, and I went to say something to them, but Gemma put her hand on my arm.

"Don't bother, they're not worth it," she said. "The one in the black tee-shirt is the host's youngest brother. I'll have a quiet word with Damian later."

She was a very attractive woman, tall and statuesque; I guess five-nine, maybe five-ten. Her skin was a beautiful shade of light coffee. Dark eyes shone out from her face, and she had pulled her long black hair over her shoulder, so it lay like a thick dark rope down her chest. She wore tight black jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection. A pale blue silk camisole top rounded off her outfit. The top hinted at the outline of her full firm breasts. I wasn't sure how old she was, but I guessed a couple of years older than my twenty-two.

She sat looking at me, and said, "I don't recognize you, and I thought I knew most of Damian's friends."

"Never been here before," I admitted. "and to be honest, I've never met him before tonight either. One of his friends invited a couple of the girls I work with; they brought me along for moral support."

Gemma looked around as though she expected them to appear magically.

"Abandoned for pastures greener, as soon we arrived," I explained, shrugging it off.

She reached over and took the bottle from me, took a sip and grimaced.

"Christ, we can do better that that. Wait here I'll be right back." She stood up and gliding, not walking, made her way back into the house.

The guys at the table were still glaring at me. Obviously, I'd spoilt their plans for the night. I'm six foot one in my socks and thanks to a history of playing rugby all through school and college; I was quite muscular. I stood up and glared back at them. Beer and drugs had fortunately not made them brave, and after a few moments, they slunk off.

Gemma appeared a few minutes later, holding, to my delight, four bottles of Grolsch. She passed me two and I popped the top off one and took a contented swallow.

"So much better than that piss," I said. "I didn't see anything decent when I looked."

She tapped the side of her nose, and \ it was a very cute nose. "Inside information. If I tell you I'll have to kill you," she said and laughed. "Tell me about yourself."

She was a very pretty woman, and I was more than happy to keep her company, so I spent the next half an hour explaining and answering her questions. It was a real pleasure to talk with her.

After a while, I started asking her about herself.

"I finished college last year, and I've got a job as an assistant at an art gallery. It's nice because it allows me a fair amount of free time during the day to enjoy myself."

She told me more about herself, and other than she was one-quarter Jamaican, she was fairly light on her personal details, and her time as a student. She was more expansive about her job at the gallery.

"Boyfriend?" I knew I had to ask. God knows what I'd do if she said yes.

She gave me a quirky little smile, "Not really, just a few good friends. Why are you interested in asking me out?" Her attitude was refreshing.

"Err, yes," I managed to stammer.

"Good, I was hoping you would. If you come around to the gallery at seven Thursday evening, we can go for a drink." She told me the address, and I knew the street, I'd walked along it on several occasions. I told her yes and then for a few moments, we sat silently. She passed me a second bottle, and I took it. There was a warm buzz as our fingers touched and I noticed she slid closer to me on the wall until our legs touched.

"So, how do you know Damian?" I asked.

"I don't know him all that well," she admitted, "He's my neighbor, I moved into one of the upstairs flats a couple of months ago." She pointed to a first story window that glowed with a soft light. "He's a nice guy and lets me use the garden and patio whenever I want."

"Ah, so living upstairs explains the secret supply of good beer."

She grinned back at me and nodded, then she looked at her watch and cursed. "I'm sorry, Tony, I do wish I didn't have to, but I need to go. I'm meeting a friend in town, and the taxi will be here in a few minutes. I'm going to be late if I don't run."

My heart fell at her words. I'd come with two attractive women, but she was in a class of her own and I didn't want her to go. We both stood up, and I went to give her a quick kiss. She surprised me by stepping in close and giving me a close hug and a long kiss.

We separated, both breathing heavily. "We will defiantly pick that back up on Thursday," she whispered. She turned and walked away, pausing in the doorway to blow me a kiss.

I sat back down in a degree of shock; I think I had a date with an extremely beautiful woman. I saw the curtains in one of the upstairs windows twitch, and I saw her briefly in the gap. She looked down and gave me a little wave, but before I could respond, the curtains closed and a few seconds later the light went out.

I was still sitting there a few minutes later, contemplating finding the girls to tell them I was going to leave when Maria and Rachael came looking for me.

"Tony, we need to go, we've ordered a cab," Maria said a bit anxiously. "Are you coming back with us?"

"Sure. I was about to go in any case. I wasn't sure if you'd be coming back this evening, you two looked like you were settled in for the night."

Rachael shook her head, "Nah, mine was boring." She came and gave me a hug and a kiss. "Thanks for coming with us."

Maria looked a bit sad as she also shook her head. "My prince turned into a toad, warts and all. I thought he was nice, but he turned into a pain in the ass. He was getting far too touchy-feely for my taste and expected me to spend the night with him at his mate's place." She shuddered, and it wasn't the cold.

I held my hand out and she sat in the spot that Gemma had vacated. She took my hand and pulled it around her shoulders, resting her head on my shoulder.

"He got very pushy and it wasn't nice; his friends just laughed when I complained. He was pissed when I told him I wasn't going to sleep with him."

She gave me a shy look, "Mind you if it had been you asking me, I might have given a different answer."

I smiled, a little surprised. "I can understand why he hoped you would. Any problems when you told them you were going? Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No," she said, and she shook her head.

Rachael gave a little giggle and said, "We just told them we were going home with our lover."

"Who?"

"Why you, you idiot."

I laughed in disbelief, almost choking on the mouthful of beer I'd just sipped.

"Seriously, Tony, that's what we told them, so don't be surprised if you get some funny looks when we leave," Maria said.

"So, whose lover am I supposed to be?" I asked.

They each gave me a broad grin, "Both of us," Rachael said. "We told them that we couldn't be bothered to waste our time with them as you were so bloody good in bed we were going to have a threesome with you!"

"Fuck," I spluttered, and they both laughed at my shocked expression.

Rachael asked me, "What about you, did you meet anybody interesting? I thought I saw you talking to someone in the garden."

"It was Damian's neighbour; I've got a date with her on Thursday."

We heard the taxis' horn announce its arrival, and we left the party with me walking on air between them, an arm around each of their waists. As we walked through the flat, there were a few odd looks, but that was all. The three of us sat on the bench seat in the back of the black cab.

We sat in silence for a few moments, the girls curling up against me. I had an arm around each of them, my fingertips gently caressing the side of their necks.

Maria asked softly, "Tony, will you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be on my own."

I don't know who was more surprised, Rachael, or me. I had thought Maria was joking when she'd mentioned it earlier. I know that the happy, relaxed atmosphere in the back of the cab became suddenly serious.

"Are you sure about that?" I said.

"Please Tony, that asshole got to me. He made me feel like a piece of meat. I was just a hole he wanted to fuck. I want someone who I trust to hold me tonight while I sleep, and I trust you."

Maria grinned at me, "So that you know; my bed's a no clothes zone."

I wasn't sure how to take that. Did Maria trust me not to take advantage of her? Or did she hope I would?

My answer came as she took my hand and after kissing my fingers, she placed it under her top and on her unfettered breast. Her nipple rose and hardened under the warmth of my hand. She gave out a contented sigh and pulled my face down to hers for a kiss.

Rachael giggled. "You minx, I was going to ask him the same thing."

I couldn't resist, "Oh so you were going to ask me to sleep with her as well. I like your friends, Maria."

Rachael went red and then laughed. She punched my arm lightly and then wrapped it around her. "Next time, he's mine," she said to Maria.

In the rearview mirror, I could see the eyes of the taxi driver opened wide as he took in the action on his backseat. Rachael noticed as well, and pulled up her top to expose her freckle-covered breasts. Rachael was a true redhead, and her pale skin was covered with the cutest freckles.

The taxi gave a slight swerve and then continued on its way. Bayswater was still busy, even at two in the morning, as the taxi drove down Queensway before turning off and dropping us in front of our building. We fell out, laughing at the taxi driver after he told us that Rachael's floorshow had been his best tip of the night.

We climbed the three flights of stairs to our floor and stood on the landing. Our relaxed and playful attitude cooled as Maria and I stood before her bedroom door. I started to say that I understood if she'd changed her mind, but she placed a finger against my lips, then kissed me.

Rachael gave us both a hug and a kiss; then she closed the door to her room behind her, leaving us on our own.

I think we were both nervous as I followed her into her room. The overhead light was harsh and bright. She turned the bedside lamp on, and I turned off the overhead light. The room was bathed in a soft calming glow.

I took in the sight of the vision that was Maria. She was about five foot four, her cute slightly oval face was framed by a mane of wavy black locks. Her eyes were dark brown and her lips full and plump. Her light olive complexion must have been a result of her Italian heritage. Her body was slightly curvy but curvy in all the right places.

She turned and gave me a smile. "Thank you for this," she whispered.

"I'm going to spend the night with a beautiful woman; I'm the one who should be thanking you." I held my arms out to her, she took that big step and pressed her body against mine, letting me hold her tight.

Maria started sobbing, and I kissed the top of her head before relaxing my grip. "We don't have to do this," I said.

"I know we don't, but I want to. I just want someone I like, someone who I trust to hold me while I sleep. That bastard this evening made me feel dirty." She raised her face, and I kissed the tears away.

"I saw you with that woman in the garden," she whispered. "I wanted to be the one sitting next to you."

She stepped away and turned to face the bed. She pulled her top off and draped it over a chair.

"Remember my no clothes rule," she said over her shoulder. She hooked her fingers in the waist of her short skirt and slid it and her panties down in one elegant motion.

In the low light of her bedside table lamp, the curve of her back was cast in soft intriguing shadows. The curve drew my eyes down to the globes of her buttocks and the secrets hidden between her legs.

She slid under the cover, never turning to face me and patted the bed beside her. Under her gaze, my clothes quickly joined hers on the chair, my cock firmed, confirming my interest. She flipped back the covers, inviting me to her bed.

Her bed was narrow, and it forced us to lie on our sides facing each other. Her brown eyes reflected the soft light. She raised her head so I could slide an arm under it then laid it back down, trapping me in place. I ran a finger along the curve of her cheek, and she grinned back at me. The tension that had been present in her face slowly relaxed.

"Can you just hold me for a while," she murmured. She managed to turn around, and I spooned up behind her, my semi erect cock sliding comfortably into the groove between her soft buttocks aa she lifted her leg slightly to accommodate me. She took my free hand and draped it over her, placing my palm on top of her firm breast and covering it with her hand.

Her hard nipple was evidence of her arousal and normally, I would begin to caress a woman who looked, felt and smelt as aroused as Maria currently did. With her, there was a disquieting feeling that made me hold back. Something or someone had upset her this evening, so I kept my hand and cock as still as I could.