Heather Falls in Love Pt. 01

Everyone else did the usual fade but, seeing Ingrid's signal, Heather made for the bar.

'It looks like just me and you,' the blonde beauty said despondently. 'Two BA buddies versus the world. So much for safety in numbers!'

'We might scrape three or four,' Heather countered. 'And even if there are only two of us, at least we can get raped and murdered together. I would hate to get raped and murdered on my own. It really isn't the done thing.'

Ingrid smiled at that. 'You're still set on going? Even if it does come down to just the two of us?'

'Absolutely. I'll go on my own if it comes to it, but I'd much rather go with you. Are you still game?'

'Of course she is,' Rachael put in, arriving behind them. 'Have you finished comparing balances? Is it safe for me to join you?'

'It's safe,' Ingrid said. 'Our travelling numbers have dipped again, though.'

'Don't tell me, there's only you two left. Just as I predicted.'

'Okay then. I won't tell you. But you were right.'

Rachael laughed. 'Who did have the highest balance, by the way?'

'We don't know,' Heather and Ingrid said together.

The barman had been loitering with intent, waiting for the newcomer to order. 'Let's have a gamble then,' she said. 'Three pints of Pedigree, the highest credit balance pays.' As the barman pulled the beer she grinned at the other two. 'I've got thirty-seven pounds forty-two in mine. I just checked.'

'I'll pay,' said Heather. 'I think I overdid it trying not to look like a cheapskate.'

'So,' Rachael resumed after her first swig of beer, 'down to the two of you.'

'Not officially,' Ingrid replied. 'But it is only a matter of time. I think that's a given.'

'More given than a one inch putt,' Heather agreed.

'Well in that case at least you can start to plan. All I've heard up to now has been ifs and buts. Now you can start talking about proper routes and timetables.'

'I don't want a timetable,' Ingrid said decisively. 'If I'd wanted to go round the world in eighty days, I'd have gone with Michael Palin.'

'I don't want to be tied to the clock either,' said Heather. 'All that business about booking air tickets months in advance. It makes me shudder to think of it. My trip of a lifetime, spent looking at my watch! To me, as well as going to places I'll never see or hear of again, this should be about not looking at calendars or clocks.'

'Would you be bothered if it takes more than twelve months?' Ingrid asked. 'I mean lots more than twelve months?'

'I'm okay with that. I'm not sure about the five years Carol mentioned, but if we're gone a year and a half or more, so what? We've got the rest of our lives to sit at home.'

'I think I'm sensing some grit and determination,' Rachael said. Then, to the barman: 'Three more, please.'

'Why don't you come with us?' said Ingrid. 'You can't possibly have anything better to do.'

'I'd love to spend a year snuggled up with you two. In fact I daydream about it all the time. But I knew from the start I couldn't afford to go. My only decision right now is whether I stay on for my master's or work a year first. The last time I added it all up, I already owed twelve grand.'

'Try a little pole dancing,' Ingrid suggested. 'Jade gets eight hundred pounds a week after deductions. And you'd look lots better wrapped around a pole than Jade. Wouldn't you say so, Heather?'

Heather nodded. Rachael was petite and punky with Mohican-like blue hair. She came equipped with dozens of bangles and had plenty of visible piercings, with probably lots more under her loose-fitting, vivid yellow NEVER MIND THE BOLLOCKS sweatshirt and torn jeans. And tattoos . . .

Judging from her arms, she would have a fair smattering of tattoos on her as well. But she was still ten times sexier than Jade, who had the boobs and bum but spoiled everything with her miserable, sulky face.

'Much better,' she agreed. 'I'd have her wrapped around my tent-pole every time.'

'Sorry,' said Rachael. 'No travelling for me. And definitely no dirty dancing. The thought of all those horrible old men cumming in their grubby boxers makes me want to puke.'

'Wouldn't it give you a sense of power?' Heather asked. 'I get quite a kick out of making a guy cum. If you ask me, working in a club like that sounds like lots more of the same. I might be a bit of a control freak, but I bet I could do it.'

'Well I mustn't have any control in me. Dirty old men still make me want to vomit.'

Ingrid looked at the bar clock then drained her glass. 'Got to split,' she said. 'My last bit of coursework has to be in tomorrow morning. I'm pulling an all-nighter to polish it off. Sleep can wait for the train ride home.'

She turned to Heather. 'Decision time. If it does come down to the two of us, what are we going to do?'

'We're going to go for it,' Heather said without hesitation.

'Right,' Ingrid agreed. Then the last clouds of doubt cleared from her eyes and she said more firmly: 'That's a definite definite from both of us.'

Heather had half-expected an air kiss and was pleasantly surprised when Ingrid hugged her and gave her a big smacker full on the lips. Unfortunately, before things could get really interesting, the blonde beauty had broken off and was halfway out of the Union Bar. 'I'll email you over Easter,' she said, 'we can start planning. And I'll see you back in the Smoke, Rache. Probably in Siouxsie's Bar. Bye . . .'

CHAPTER FOUR

(Lent Term 2002)

'Impressive,' Rachael said, grinning, 'you just got further with her than I have in ten years of trying. I wouldn't mind being a fly on the canvas in your tent.'

'We're platonic,' said Heather, wishing they weren't.

'Tell me that after a few weeks sharing the same sleeping bag.'

'It's not going to happen.'

'It already has. In several of my very vivid fantasies.'

Heather grinned back at the sexy, punky girl. No, the sexy and reportedly jealous punky girl. 'Were you involved in any of those vivid fantasies?'

'Of course. I wasn't going to just sit back and watch, was I?'

It was three minutes past ten and the bar was slowly emptying. Heather supposed a lot of people had already headed home for the break . . . or had coursework to complete at the last minute. She pointed at their empty glasses and Rachael gave her the thumbs up, jangling her bangles.

'I've only just got here,' she said. 'For me the night is still young. You could talk me into doing anything from here.'

'Anything?'

'Yes, absolutely anything.'

Heather had to laugh as she paid for the new drinks.

'I couldn't believe it when Ingrid told me she'd turned you down,' Rachael went on. 'I told her I had a society brimming with girls wanting to shag with you. Which wasn't the case two years ago, I hasten to add. Back then half the society already had shagged with you. What happened? Have you taken a vow of chastity or something?'

'Hardly that. I stopped coming to your meetings when I ditched LGBT.'

'But why?'

'I was beginning to feel like a fraud.' Heather shrugged. 'Everyone else seemed to be in a relationship or looking for one. I was just looking for sex.'

'Plenty of that about round these parts.'

'I know. I haven't given sex up, just the clubs and societies.'

Rachael's grin was wider than ever. 'I did hear a rumour you were getting all your sex with men these days.'

'Some of it, Heather conceded. 'But by no means all of it.'

'Still a big change though.'

'Not really. I've always been into equal opportunities.'

'Really? Some of my members are saying you've sold out. Changing your policy before you graduate. Classic LUG, that sort of thing.'

Heather frowned. Whatever else she was, she was definitely not Lesbian Until Graduation. 'Some of your members are wrong,' she said. 'I still sleep with more women than men. And the only change of policy I've ever made was to try stone butch.'

'You mean bottoming for one?'

'No. I mean being one.'

Rachael snorted. 'Did it work for you?'

'Not really. I got bored within a week.'

'Let me guess. Your partner took it too literally.'

'They both did.'

'I thought you only lasted a week.'

'That's right: one week and two ridiculously submissive partners. I don't mind doing the lion's share of the work, but not being touched . . . I won't be trying that again.'

Rachael laughed. 'It really is just sex with you, isn't it?'

'Yes,' Heather said truthfully. 'And I still like all flavours . . . within reason, of course.'

'You don't mind me spreading the word then?'

'What word?'

'That you're still available for casual one-nighters.'

Heather looked at the attractive, blue-haired Mohican.

Good grief, she thought. I sure am tonight. Very available.

'No,' she said aloud. 'I don't mind. I want everybody to know how it is. As I've often said, it doubles my chances at parties.'

'We had our end of term party last week. It's a shame we hadn't had this conversation sooner. You could have come as an Easter bunny girl.'

'I'd have probably ducked out.' Heather shrugged again. 'I like your society but, relationships aside, some of the members confuse me. I used to struggle to work out who wanted exactly what.'

'I know what you mean.' Rachael sighed. 'A lot of them are only young. They don't really know what they want themselves. And the older ones are no better. A lot of them only know what they don't want. Bitter experience or what?'

'A lot of the older ones were fun to be with,' said Heather. 'I still miss Angie and Marcia. Those two certainly knew what they wanted.'

'They certainly did.' The punky Mohican chuckled. 'I jumped into bed with both of them at once, back in the day. It's a pity I can't tell you what we got up to.'

'Why can't you?'

'It's my code of omerta. I never tittle-tattle. In fact I shouldn't have told you I have carnal desires for Ingrid.'

'That was hardly an earth-shattering revelation, was it?'

'Is this where you confess you fancy her yourself?'

'I don't really have to, do I?' Heather smiled at her drinking partner. 'You already know I made a move on her.'

'Ah yes, so you did.' Rachael returned the smile. 'Before you went all platonic.'

'I can do platonic. I just haven't had a lot of practice.'

'You've practiced it very well with me.'

'That's because I have incredible self-restraint,' Heather said, laughing at her own bare-faced lie. 'And because I think that the head of an important society should have certain standards.'

'She should and I do. I never shag with freshers or the emotionally disturbed. Anyone else is fair game.'

'That seems reasonable enough. It would be sneaky to shag someone who's emotionally disturbed.'

'Uncomfortable too,' said Rachael. 'Sometimes they cry in places where they should be yelling out in delight.'

'I'm not emotionally disturbed,' Heather volunteered. 'And I'm well past the fresher stage.'

They regarded each other steadily.

'In case you're wondering,' Rachael said finally, 'I'm not in or looking for a relationship. I'm free to do anything I want. I'm also happy to pull an all-nighter tonight, but not to polish up coursework.'

'I'm glad you said that. I was wondering. I was also wondering how many more tattoos and piercings you've got.'

'Lots. And some of the piercings are . . . intimate.'

'A girl I once went with had fifteen piercings.'

'I've got twenty-one. I get a new one every year. Have you any?'

'Me? No way. They're far too permanent. That doesn't stop me from admiring them on others, though. And twenty-one sounds awesome.'

'So why are you laughing?'

'Because I can only see eleven: ten on your face and one in your tongue. I'm trying to work out where the rest of them are. I'm betting nipples and bellybutton. But that still leaves seven.'

Rachael raised a sexily-pierced eyebrow. 'Why don't we go to your place? See if you can find them all. There's one nearly everybody misses.'

'All right then,' Heather said, taking her hand. 'That's my sort of challenge.'

CHAPTER FIVE

(Lent Term 2002)

Heather's Finals-year "home" had been about a mile from the university. On leaving the Union Bar it seemed to be light years away so, rather than taking the usual route, she'd led her petite Mohican elsewhere.

'Let's have an appetiser,' she said when queried.

Two minutes later they were deep in the campus, lost in a maze of walkways. Nobody in their right mind would venture there so late at night, not even muggers. Without commenting on Heather's choice as the "best, most secluded corner", Rachael hungrily locked mouths. Heather immediately slid a hand up inside the yellow sweatshirt, finding bra-less, surprisingly big boobs with the expected steel bars drilled through rock-hard nipples.

'I can't wait to chew on these,' she whispered, squeezing and pinching quite coarsely.

Rachael shifted position slightly and raised her leg, bringing her bony thigh in contact with Heather's crotch. Thanks to their significant height difference, her own crotch was now in contact with the top half of Heather's left leg. Showing considerable expertise, she began to move up and down, creating enough friction to please both of them.

'Nice,' Heather purred, still groping inside the sweatshirt, using her free hand to grip an intriguingly pert bottom.

Rachael responded by biting Heather's shoulder and accelerating. She was soon virtually running on the spot but still maintaining that wonderful contact.

'Cum for me,' she panted. 'Please cum for me.'

There was fire burning inside Heather already. Her vivid imagination had Rachael's parted, swollen lips sloppily running over her bare flesh, as they certainly would be doing before the night was out. Two layers of denim couldn't possibly detract from such an alluring picture. And, as for the real-life sensations in her own parted, swollen lips . . .

'Come on,' Rachael repeated, 'cum for me.'

Heather could have held out but, ever-obliging, let herself go . . . violently. Delighted with her juddery reaction, the smaller girl bit her again, harder this time. 'My bitch,' she cried gleefully, 'my horny, horny bitch.'

'Bitch,' Heather echoed.

'Yes, my bitch. I just knew I could make you cum first.'

'I didn't realize it was a race. Otherwise, if I'd known . . .'

'Yeah, yeah, tell me another.'

Heather could only take so much when it came to being dominated. Never mind Rachael's stud-like reputation within her own circles; she was a short skinny girl with bigger than anticipated boobs. So she'd made her taller, eager partner cum . . . but it had been mostly by begging and pleading. That didn't warrant such a flagrant show of victory, did it? And two bites were too many. Two bites didn't invite retaliation, they actively encouraged it.

Not that Heather minded being bitten . . . she liked a good gnawing . . . it was the symbolism that got to her, the possibility she'd been marked as conquered territory.

'Get your jeans off,' she snapped.

Rachael just stared back at her, eyes glinting in the dim, ambient light.

'Jeans off,' Heather repeated, setting an example.

'It's cold.'

'Bugger cold, get your pants off.'

Submitting, bangles jangling louder than ever, Rachael wriggled out of her ragged jeans.

'It's chilly,' she persisted, as if either of them really cared.

Heather stuck a hand into Rachael's knickers without further ado, feeling no hair at all and a very wet fanny. Lots of studs and rings, she noted. But save the count-up. Now wasn't the time.

It can wait, she thought. The tongue-tip count-up of silver and steel . . . all twenty-one bits of silver and steel . . . and hopefully acres and acres of tattoo.

Heat and wetness soon dispelled her wistful thinking. Being very un-lover-like, Heather sank two fingers into Rachael's fanny, curling them, deliberately raking her very best, spongiest spot.

'You're nice and tight,' she breathed. 'Shame I don't have anything hard to put inside you.'

'Jesus, Heather! What's with the big hurry?'

'Shut up and cum for me.'

'No,' Rachael squealed, sounding as if she could cum any second.

Then the squirming Mohican bit again. Big mistake!

'Cum,' Heather insisted, burrowing ever deeper, raking harder and harder.

Rachael couldn't contain herself for long. Heather kept going until her hand was soaked then, immune to the Mohican's wails of ecstasy, she yanked the knickers off both of them.

'Here,' she commanded, grabbing Rachael's bare bum. 'Wrap your legs around me; you're going for a ride.'

Rachael wrapped as instructed. She didn't really have any say in the matter. Taking her turn to be victorious, Heather lifted and spun through ninety degrees, so the other girl's back was up against a wall. Unable to reach the ground, open and defenceless, Rachael was there to be had.

'Now,' Heather said, 'this is how it should be done.'

'My God, what are you going to do to me?'

'This,' Heather replied, starting to grind.

'Jesus!' Rachael yelped. 'This is an assault!'

'No,' Heather countered. 'It's exactly what you want.'

She proceeded to shag Rachael as vigorously as a semi-naked girl could shag anyone, using every last inch of her own sex, aggressively concentrating all contact directly onto an unprotected clit. As a tactic it was very, very deliberate. Heather was relatively hardy when it came to clit-to-clit but, like just about everyone else, Rache was less so. And this wasn't even fair clit-to-clit. Heather's well-focussed aggression soon made her shriek then cum . . . again. Remorseless, Heather kept on shagging.

'Please,' Rachael sobbed, 'enough!'

As if! Heather only redoubled her efforts.

'Please no! Oh my God! Yes . . . yes, yes, yes!'

Their juices were flowing as one and mostly (because of their position) down Heather's legs. The mixture immediately cooled in the night air, but so minor a discomfort wasn't likely to stop her.

'Again,' she grunted, 'cum for me again.'

'No, please,' Rachael gasped. Then, at last grasping the reality of her situation: 'Come on you bitch, fuck me harder.

Heather didn't need asking twice.