My Best Friend - University Years Ch. 06

Paradoxically, the main thing I have neglected to tell you about in, 'The University Years,' is anything about my time at university. I was having so much fun outside university thanks to my part time job as a stripper that I've neglected to include anything about my adventures in academia.

Like every other student, I was hard up when I first came to university, and took a bar job to help financially. Soon, as you'll already have read, I got myself a job as a strip-o-gram, or just plain old stripper. I took my clothes off to entertain at special occasions, usually things like hen parties. It was all good fun, and it lead to me being highly successful sexually with a fair variety of women, but there were a few women I met through university who had nothing to do with that world of stripping at all, and Claire Andrews was one of them.

As I've said before, most of the women I was bedding at this time were older than me, and Claire was no different. I was only nineteen when I started University, and although tall and well built, I still looked my age. However, it didn't bother me that they were older, and once I got past their initial reluctance, it didn't seem to bother them too much either. Claire's initial reluctance lasted a long time, at least two years, before I managed to seduce and bed her.

I met her during my first week at university, when I was assigned a tutor for one of the subjects I was reading. A tutorial group is a small group of about 6-8 students, who once a week, meet with a member of staff who lectures in the subject they are taking. The tutor sets essays, discuss the books on the set reading list, and keep an eye on your general progress, to make sure you're doing the required work and not falling behind.

My tutor for this particular subject was Claire Andrews. She was quite young as lecturers go, but still quite a few years older than me. I don't know if she was anti-glamour, or trying to look older than her years, to give herself, and her position, an air of gravitas, but she didn't fool me one bit.

I estimated she was about thirty, or perhaps slightly older, but her dowdy way of dressing made her look much older. She invariably wore a skirt, mid-calf, and a, 'granny,' cardigan, with sensible, clumpy shoes. Her hair was scraped back tightly, and she wore no make-up, except mascara, but her skin was so good that she rarely needed it. She had good bone structure, high cheekbones, large blue eyes, a straight, even nose and a very sensual mouth, full lipped and so very kissable. Her figure, under the baggy clothing looked interesting, and she couldn't disguise the slim shapely legs and trim ankles. She intrigued me from the start.

I always tried to contribute to group discussions, answer any questions she put to us as a group, and get my essays in to her on time and tried my best to be the model student for her. Apart from that, I smiled at her a lot, and maintained eye contact with her whenever possible. I think she liked me quite a bit, but only as a student, nothing more.

On the last tutorial meeting before we split up for the Christmas holidays in first year, we were pretty relaxed, she'd already given us the essay topics to be completed during the holidays and the books we should try to read, and the conversation drifted off topic a fair bit. Somehow we were discussing, what, if any jobs we did to supplement our income. Most of them mentioned the usual shop work, bar work, etc, but I didn't volunteer anything. She looked at me quizzically, and I told her I had a job, but I'd rather not say, so she moved on to the next student. I knew she was curious by the way she kept looking at me, but I just smiled at her enigmatically. At the end of our time, as the others packed up, wishing Claire a merry Christmas, etc, I contrived to hang back, until I was the last one there. She smiled at me, showing her beautiful, even teeth.

'I'm sorry about not saying what my job is, but I don't want my fellow students to know. I don't mind telling you as long as you keep it confidential,' I added. She assured me she was well capable of keeping a secret if I felt like sharing a confidence with her, admitting that she was quite intrigued. So, I told her I was a stripper. Her mouth fell open, and she looked surprised to say the least.

'You.... you mean you take your clothes off as a job?' she gulped. I nodded. 'I have to admit you've quite taken me aback,' she said. 'Couldn't you find something better than that?' was her initial reaction. So, I explained to her that I'd been working in a bar for minimum wages, and now I was doing maybe one or two jobs a week and earning far more in fifteen minutes than I could earn in a week working in a bar. 'Well, I don't know,' was all she said, shaking her head. There seemed nothing more to say, so I wished her a nice Christmas, and left her there.

After the holidays, our tutorials began again, but now there seemed to be a little more intimacy between us. After all she knew my secret, and I would sometimes catch her looking at me in an amused sort of way. Once again I contrived to be last man out, and asked her if she had a nice Christmas, to which she replied that she had a lovely time, but she also had a lot of work to do in preparation for the new term. I jokingly suggested that if her work here proved too stressful, then I could easily get her a job just like mine, and she laughed out loud, protesting that she was far too plain. I shook my head.

'You may fool some of the people Claire, but you're not fooling me,' I informed her. 'You may dress plainly, but I can see through you, despite your efforts to look the way you do. You're beautiful, and you could look sensational if you put your mind to it.' She shook her head.

'Well, thank you for that, but I'm not beautiful, and I don't think I'll be giving up my job here at the University to become a stripper just yet,' she said smiling. I laughed.

'No, somehow I didn't think you would,' I admitted.

During the rest of the year, we mentioned my job occasionally, and at times I even felt she was flirting with me a little, but nothing came of it. The year came to an end, and we broke up for the summer, and I went home.

In year two, I took an advanced module in the same subject, and once again I was assigned to Claire's tutorial class. She still put up the same dowdy exterior to the world, but I was becoming more curious about what she would look like if she tried a bit harder. I was soon to find out.

A few weeks into the new term, I was given another, 'hen party,' to strip for, and by now it was pretty much a routine I could go through in my sleep, although I have to say, I always gave my best. The girls expected a show, and I gave it to them, and to some I gave a bit more than the show required afterwards. I didn't think this was going to be any different, but it was, because my tutor Claire was in the audience with a group of her friends, and she looked stunning. I hardly recognised her for a start, but then after a second look I realised it really was her. Her long dark hair hung loose, she had on make-up, and a really sexy red dress, short enough to show her fabulous legs. I dance closer to her as I stripped, playing up to her at one point.

'Claire, is that really you? You look sensational.' I called to her above the sound of the music.

'You don't look too bad yourself,' she laughed out loud, as I danced away to concentrate on the bride to be. I did my act, looking at Claire from time to time to see what her reaction was, but she was having a good time with her friends, laughing a lot and screaming with the rest of them, even joining in the obligatory shouts of, 'off, off, off,' when I got down to my g-string. I duly obliged amid more screams, danced around the bride a bit more, and then my act came to an end.

Back in the dressing room, I had just towelled myself down to get rid of the baby oil and shaving foam, and put on a bath robe, when there was a light tap at the door, and I opened it to find Claire, giggling, slightly drunk. I asked her to come in and she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Again, I told her she was beautiful, and this time she didn't protest, just thanked me.

'I scrub up pretty well, don't I,' she asked, and I could tell she was a bit tipsy from the alcohol, but I agreed that she, 'scrubbed up,' fantastically well as I knew she would I reminded her. 'Hey mister'' she said pointing at my chest, 'you scrub up pretty damned good too. You were pretty sexy, good body by the way, and it was a right good laugh, especially when you took off your g-string and you were wearing that rubber willie.' Now it was my turn to laugh.

'Rubber willie?' I laughed again. 'So, you thought I had an artificial cock did you?' she nodded her head.

'Course it was nobody's that big. Stands to reason, doesn't it?' she said, her eyes going a bit funny. I opened my dressing gown, exposing myself. She looked down and started giggling, 'Yeah, that's it, so funny, so funny.' I said nothing, but took her hand and placed it on my cock, which was getting harder by the second. She giggled again and gave it an experimental rub. I grew harder, my cock swelling and growing before her eyes, and as realisation dawned on her she stopped giggling.

'Oh my god, it's real, it's fucking real,' and as she looked up into my eyes, I pulled her closer, kissing her mouth. She returned my kiss, sloppily, drunkenly, and after a minute or so I pulled away from her. I wasn't going to take advantage of her when she was half drunk, but despite my good intentions she continued to play with my cock. 'Oh dear, it's huge,' she mumbled, bending down, licking my knob, 'and I want it, I want it darling, say I can have it, please,' she pleaded.

'Yes, you can have it Claire, but not tonight sweetheart. I have another job to go to, but I'll see you in class on Monday, that's a promise, and we can talk about it then.' She shook her head petulantly.

'I want it now,' she protested, but somehow or another I managed to usher her out of the dressing room, and went home. There was no other job I had to go to, but I couldn't take advantage of her drunken state and fuck her indiscriminately. If I was going to make love to her, I wanted her to be fully aware of what was happening. I kept telling myself I was a fool for not just fucking her in the dressing room as she wanted, but in the end I knew I had made the right decision.

When I walked into the tutorial room five minutes early, she looked up from her desk and blushed.

'I'm so sorry,' she started, but I told her not to be silly and that I had enjoyed what happened. 'It won't happen again,' she assured me. 'I had too much to drink. I'm not much of a drinker and it goes straight to my head.'

'Don't let it worry you, but I'll be very disappointed if it doesn't happen again. I've thought of nothing else all weekend. I knew you were gorgeous under all that dowdy crap you normally wear, but honestly Claire, you were the best-looking woman there by a very long mile, just stunning, and so sexy. I want you, it's as simple as that,' I said honestly. She shook her head, as if trying to clear it.

'No, no, it won't happen again. I don't want it to happen again, I could get in a lot of trouble for what we did on Friday night,' she pleaded.

'C'mon Claire, you want it, you know you do, or at least that's what you said when you were rubbing me and kissing and sucking me,' I pressed, reminding her of what happened, hoping it would make her horny and more receptive to the pass I was going to make at her at the end of the tutorial. She shook her head again, saying nothing, and then the rest of the students started to drift in bringing our conversation to an end.

All through the tutorial, I sat there, smiling when she looked at me, seeing her blush a little from time to time, until she smiled back. I hoped she was thinking about Friday night as much as I was.

When it was over and the others had left, I got up and locked the door. She looked rather alarmed.

'What are you doing?' she asked me, her voice trembling.

'I know this is the last tutorial you have today, and we need to talk about Friday,' I explained. 'I want you, and you certainly wanted me,' I repeated moving closer, she stood up from her desk as if trying to escape me, but I pulled her into my arms, kissing her again, rubbing my hardness against her. She struggled a little, momentarily protesting, and I quickly unzipped and pulled out my cock. She looked down, and a huge sigh escaped her lips, she'd lost, and she knew it. I kissed her again, and felt her hand encircle my cock, rubbing back and forth, she moaned lightly, but getting more excited by the minute, as my hands explored her body, squeezing her breasts and nipples.

I lifted and sat her on the end of her desk and pushed her legs apart, continuing to play with her tits. I pushed off the woolly cardigan, and unbuttoned her white blouse, exposing her boobs. They weren't big, but neither were they small, a good handful with lovely dark nipples just made for sucking on, and so I lowered my head to suck them. By the moans of delight, I knew she liked that, and slipped both my hands up her skirt, touching her through her undies. She liked that too, and lifted her bottom to help me remove her tights and panties.

I pushed her back on the desk and she lifted her feet off the floor, spreading her legs expectantly. Her shaven pussy looked wonderful; wet and ready, but I gave it a few passing licks and gently fingered it too, getting her well primed to receive my cock, and then I pushed my cock against those lovely pink lips, slipping in a little and withdrawing, coating my knob with her juices. Again, and again I did it, each time sinking in a little further until my entire knob was disappearing with each push, and then I pushed relentlessly in until I was totally embedded in her.

'Oh my god, I can't believe it, gently please, gently,' she pleaded, and then I began to slide in and out. She moaned helplessly as I slowly and methodically fucked her, and her pussy spewed out her juices coating me in a film of fragrant slickness.

I picked up the tempo a little, knowing she was so wet that her exhortations for me to take it easy no longer applied. I was in her to the hilt, and she was very, very wet; there was no resistance to my thrusts, and I was slipping in and out of her gorgeous pussy with ease. Her moans and groans let me know I was hitting all the right spots for her pleasure. I was varying my strokes; gentle one moment and more vigorously the next, reaming her delightful little pussy, making sure she'd know she'd been well used when it was over. She was most responsive, and fucked me back enthusiastically, her lovely arse thrusting up to meet me with each stroke, until she could hold it back no more, and came with a rush, trying her best to be quiet considering the location, but failing miserably.

When she came down from her climax, she looked around to the door as if expecting someone to walk in, and then smiled a delicious smile at me.

'Thank you, that was wonderful. I've thought about you all weekend after I met you at the pub. I reckon that's why I was so easy to seduce just now,' she said, trying to explain. I told her it didn't matter, as long as she had enjoyed it, and with a laugh, she assured me that she had enjoyed it just fine. So, still hard and still embedded in her slick pussy, I started thrusting in and out again, and she loved it just as much and probably more the second time around.

We would meet up occasionally for some fun - she was a wonderful lover, but always worried in case rumours got back to the faculty. Eventually, it kinda petered out, but I did make sure I got her one last time before my time at university came to an end. It was a monumental sex session, and I made love to her until she could hardly move. I wanted her to remember me, and if her Christmas card every year is anything to go by, she most certainly has.

* * *

As time went on with me working at the agency, I began to pick up a fan following. Not just the wealthy women who booked me to pleasure them on a Friday or Saturday night, but women who had seen me perform at various special occasions; hen parties and the like, and liked what they saw. I could only suppose that they wanted a little bit of sexual action, and soon I began to see familiar faces appearing at my gigs. For the most part, I hadn't made love to these women, but there were one or two, or sometimes more who I'd had sex with. To tell the truth, I was fucking so many women on a casual, but semi-regular basis, that I didn't have time for new, "recruits," on anything other than a one-off basis. I was always pleasant to them, when they come up to talk to me after each show. They were really nice, and just occasionally, I'd arrange to meet one after the show and have a little fun with her. I was totally surprised by the amount of, 'brides to be,' who wanted to sample what I had, impending marriage or not. I must admit, I obliged quite a few, but discreetly of course, and some, like Alicia Sands came back for more.

I was in the supermarket one day, three back in the queue, and couldn't help but notice the check-out operator. She was really beautiful, with reddish hair, very slim, with a lovely face, and big blue eyes, a lovely mouth with perfect white teeth. When it came to my turn, she looked at me and gave me a lovely smile. 'I know you,' she said quietly as she scanned my stuff. 'I saw you last week, doing your act.' I just smiled back and asked if she'd enjoyed it. She nodded. 'It was... exciting,' she admitted, adding, 'When are you performing again?' I told her I wasn't sure, because we were allocated assignments as and when they came in. She looked disappointed, so I suggested if she wanted to see me again, she didn't have to wait until I was performing, and I asked her what time she was finished. 'I'll be finished at six o'clock if you want to meet me,' she offered and I said that would be perfect, I'd meet her outside the main door, and so it was arranged. I was pretty confident she'd be in my bed before the end of the night.

At six, I was outside the store entrance, and it wasn't too long before she came out. The store uniform was gone, and she was dressed in a black shirt, and short black skirt. She had great legs, for which I was grateful, for I hadn't been able to see them when she was sitting down at the check-out. She was damn near perfect. 'Well, look at you,' I said. 'You look gorgeous.' She blushed, but smiled sweetly, thanking me. 'Would you like to go to the pub?' I indicated to one across the street, 'or would you prefer we buy a bottle of wine or something and just go back to my place.' She held up the bag she was carrying, and pulled out a bottle of wine.

'Got one,' she grinned triumphantly, 'after all, I work in a supermarket, staff discount.' I laughed and gave her a wee hug, and told her she was a clever girl. We walked the few streets to my place, hand in hand. She was trembling slightly, and I knew she was excited. 'I don't normally do this sort of thing,' she tried to explain herself, 'I'm usually quite shy, really I am.' Funnily enough, I believed her. She didn't have that blasé air about her that some more experienced girls sometimes have.

'The night I saw you stri... eh... dancing, was unusual for me. I don't go to pubs that often, but the bride to be was my cousin, and I felt obliged to go. Everybody was having a good time, and I'd had a few drinks and got caught up in the excitement too.' I had a rueful smile to myself as she said it, thinking of her cousin, the bride to be, in my dressing room after the show with her panties on the floor, moaning and groaning with pleasure as I rifled her wet pussy. 'I'd never seen a... stripper before; it was very exciting,' she tailed off.