My Girlfriend's Placement Year

Hi, I'm Dave.

I'd been with my amazing girlfriend Elizabeth for around two years. We'd met in our first year doing the same course at Southampton University.

Elizabeth was one of only a handful of girls on our course and I was instantly attracted to her from the moment we met. She was 20 at the time and I was 19. She was 5ft6 with long blonde, naturally wavy hair, which she straightened religiously.

I've never really been drawn to skinny girls and Elizabeth fitted the bill perfectly. I wouldn't say she was fat, but was marginally overweight - carrying a few extra pounds in all the right places. Of course, she thought she was fat and wasn't particularly body-confident. I wouldn't have changed a single thing about her.

On the outside she would probably be considered somewhat of a nerd. She was clever and wore glasses, she was innocent and very well-mannered - even slightly posh. Her intelligence was also one of the reasons I fell for her, she was really cute.

I was a little shocked (but pleasantly surprised) to find that she was interested in me and - as I later found out - wasn't as prudish as I initially thought once you got to know her.

In all honesty, I thought it would be reasonably hard work to get her into bed.

After less than a few hours of our first 'date' - beginning in a student pub near Uni, and then a short walk to a club - we were all over each other while I openly groped her perky 34b tits and fondled her bum up the back of her slightly-above-knee-length skirt in the middle of the dance floor.

Both horny we left the club early and jumped in a taxi to her University halls accommodation. Once inside the front door we continued where we'd left off in the club. When we'd worked ourselves back up to a similar level of desperation after the lull of the taxi, she led me up the stairs to her room. We were so desperate for each other that I barely even had time to get undressed. Her top and bra were off before her door even closed behind us, and she collapsed on top of me on her tiny single bed.

Elizabeth shuffled down the bed away from me, unzipped me and immediately took my hard 7in cock in her mouth. Given we'd both been drinking quite hard, I'm sure she'd forgive me in saying it probably wasn't the best blowjob she'd ever given. But that was fine - I was desperate to get inside this girl and was thanking god for the single condom I kept tucked in my wallet. I hadn't expected to be in this position with a prim-and-proper girl like her on our first date, or I'd have made sure I came better prepared.

I wanted to move things on, so I encouraged her back up my body and pulled her in for another desperate kiss while she continued to jerk my cock as well as she was able with it sandwiched between us. After about 30 seconds she sat upright, straddling my lower legs and started to shuffle her knickers down her thighs. She bought her left leg up and unhooked them, before returning to her previous position. She was still wearing her pretty (but length-wise relatively conservative) skirt, but was naked underneath, with her underwear still wrapped around her right leg.

Elizabeth leaned over me face-to-face, supported on her right arm and looked me directly in the eyes as she shuffled up my body on her knees.

Her inquisitive drunken stare was presumably trying to detect any lies I might be about to tell. She slurred breathlessly "Are you clean?"

Jesus Christ I thought - this goody-two-shoes isn't going to ask if I even have a condom - she's going to let me fuck her bareback on the first date!

When I realised that I nearly came straight away.

She had stopped jerking me and instead used her hand to position my cock at her pussy entrance whilst she waited for my answer. In awe at the situation, I was momentarily stuck for words when I realised she was already rubbing the swollen tip of my cock between her lips. She dipped down slightly so the head popped inside of herself, teasing me, all the time staring dazedly into my eyes.

Accepting the slightest of nods from me, without really waiting for a proper answer to her question, she eased herself down my shaft. I'll never forget the expression on her cute little face as she slid my rock-hard cock into herself that very first time. Her eyes were mostly closed and her eyelids flickered with pleasure. Her mouth hung open as she gasped.

Not limited by the number of condoms I didn't have, we fucked three times that night. Then when we woke up in the morning with hangovers, we fucked some more. It wasn't until round two that first night that I got her skirt off and had a proper look at her.

This girl had just gotten even better. Just above her pussy grew the cutest landing strip of hair I'd ever seen. About an inch-and-a-half wide of neatly-trimmed light brunette curls - in stark contrast to her naturally blonde hair - flanked on each side by freshly waxed, hairless flesh.

I'd been with trimmed girls and bushy girls (and honestly, I prefer the latter), but this was the best of all worlds.

I also noticed when going down on her for the first time that Elizabeth had a rather large set of labia protruding from her pussy. In my somewhat limited experience of four previous girls, I'd not seen a pussy like this before. During our relationship I became addicted to it.

As time went on she revealed that she thought she had an ugly pussy. I did my best to reassure her but, like her weight, it was something which dented her self-confidence.

Elizabeth's taste was strong, but sweet. I would nibble and suck on those lips to her obvious delight, and I would love to watch them stretch out along my cock slowly as I withdrew from each thrust, before sliding back in on the next stroke and watching them disappear into her again.

She got all shy when I did this and would never make eye contact with me when I was going down on her or looking at her pussy as we had sex.

Most of all, I loved the fact that she didn't make me use protection.

I would get to fill this hot little pussy with my cum.

The first two girls I'd been with were just as inexperienced as I was at the time, so we used condoms without much discussion on the matter.

My next girlfriend - the undoubted love of my life at that point - was on the pill and introduced me to the complete unrivalled joy of unprotected sex. There's nothing as satisfying as blowing a huge load directly into an unprotected pussy, particularly when it belonged to someone seemingly so innocent as Elizabeth on the outside.

Whilst the sex inevitably became less frequent over the next couple of years, my love for this adorable girl grew stronger every day.

However, the third year of our University degree was a work placement. I was placed in Brighton so I moved into a flat-share there.

Elizabeth had got a really good placement with a great company in Reading.

This concerned me as - glad as I was that she'd secured such a fantastic placement - getting from Brighton to Reading and vice-versa wasn't easy. Neither of us had a car, so seeing each other at weekends would mean spending ages on trains, needing to go right into central London, get the tube and then another train all the way to Reading.

I told myself that it would all be ok, that we loved each other and that absence would only make the heart grow fonder. I secretly feared that absence might make the heart forget. Not on my part, but on hers. I'd had no reason to doubt her commitment to our relationship, but making it work long-distance at this age was bound to be tricky.

After starting our work placements in July, within a few weeks my fears were coming true. We were going through a tricky patch as we were now away from each other a lot for the first time. We spoke every day on the phone, but these conversations soon became shorter and shorter, with her offering little of substance, mostly one-word answers as I struggled to make the conversation flow, and my text messages and emails went largely unanswered.

She'd made a few friends at her work, and they went for a drink every so often, but other than that she sounded pretty miserable to be there. Just like on our course, she was almost the only girl in her department, so she was lacking female company.

We continued to meet up every weekend and have a nice enough time, usually with me travelling up to Reading where she shared a house with two other guys from our course also placed at the same company. There was still something not right though, she wasn't her happy, perky little self anymore, but she wouldn't open up to me.

We were all being paid little more than pocket money in our placements and doing much other than hanging around and watching DVDs was out of the question by the time I'd paid for the train fare, so there wasn't much I could do to break the monotony for her.

She was also broke, and could only afford a small room pre-furnished with, yes, another single bed. Even the sex dried up. Sometimes we wouldn't even be intimate in any way during our weekends together. It felt like we were helplessly sliding towards the friend-zone.

We had booked a holiday to Greece for mid September before our downward slide, but even that didn't bring us any closer to what we had been. Despite it being 36 degrees permanently, she kept covered up everywhere except the beach, probably knowing that the more flesh I see the more insatiable I get. And I didn't get the impression she wanted to be intimate.

During this week we only had sex twice - right at the end of the holiday with a little drink inside us, but both times she was barely present.

Even as I penetrated her, she looked disinterested and flat. Her mind was elsewhere. She went through the motions, but was pretty lifeless. Both times I felt like I'd used her. She wasn't into it, into me.

She'd even stopped taking close care of her landing strip and was now sporting a thin bush, unkempt by comparison.

Neither of us had openly voiced any concerns and I still hoped we could make it work. I was still besotted with her, but was now having real doubts about whether she was about to end it. I could feel her slipping away but felt totally helpless to stop it. Like I was watching a car-crash in slow-motion.

I didn't have to wait too long. On a phone call having being back from Greece for barely a week, she said she thought we should just be friends for the time being. 'Have a bit of a break' was how she put it.

Maybe don't see each other every weekend and see what happens.

She said she still loved me, but thought we needed to stop trying so hard to make it work.

She said she needed to concentrate fully on her placement.

She said we should take the pressure off and let nature take its course.

I wasn't surprised, and I clung to what she said about still wanting me in her life, but I was totally gutted. If I understood what had changed for her it might help me to process it, but I didn't know what was going on in her head,

From that point on, our relationship took a confusing turn. We still spoke on the phone, but only a few times a week instead of every day. The conversation seemed to flow more easily, like it would between friends. We flirted a little over text message, she seemed to be finding that fun side of her personality again.

We still did the sort of things most couples do. I still travelled to see her (although now only every other weekend). I hated the travelling with a passion, but it was worth it to see her.

Still travelling up on a Friday night straight from work.

Still staying over Friday and Saturday nights, before leaving on the Sunday afternoon. Still sleeping next to her in that tiny single bed where it was impossible not to get very close indeed, all the time wanting nothing more than to hold her, kiss her and be inside her.

However, little things had changed. Although we were sleeping crammed next to each other in a single bed, she was more private about her body now.

She slept with her back to me.

She wore a proper set of pyjamas, not just a long t-shirt or underwear.

She rebuffed any touching or cuddling in bed.

She wouldn't get changed in front of me, or even in the same room.

We would sometimes go out drinking together when I visited - like we used to back at Uni.

We even had (very) drunken sex a couple of times. And I don't mean 'vacant', Greece-type going-through-the-motions sex - I mean really good sex again. At least, I think it was good from what I could remember. I also noted that the landing strip was back, slightly thinner than I was used to.

I'd missed good sex over the past few months. But she never wanted to do anything whilst sober and clear-headed, and those two mornings-after she acted as if nothing had happened.

No conversations about what it meant.

No further intimacy.

Although drunk, she wasn't drunk enough not to make me wear a condom.

We didn't tell anyone we'd 'broken up', and it made no sense to - outwardly it would be hard for anyone to tell. Plus I knew I'd be inundated with questions about why we were still seeing each other so often. It would seem weird. It WAS weird.

I broached the subject of our 'relationship status' with her occasionally, but she would bat this away, questioning why we had to define it or give it a name, and asking me not to put her under so much pressure.

I could see her point. Initially after the break-up, I thought our relationship was lost but it seemed that we weren't quite at that stage yet, so I was happy in one way. I was still in with a chance. But neither could I call her my girlfriend. I suppose we could be described as 'friends with very occasional benefits'. I just wanted so much more.

Then one weekend in late October, we went to stay with her parents to celebrate her brother's birthday on the Sunday. I liked her family a lot and we always had a good time there, although it was close to a 4hr train journey for me each way.

Late on the Saturday afternoon we were alone in the house watching TV and I noticed she was on her work phone an awful lot, messaging or emailing or something.

Given the recent unexplained turn of events in our relationship, I was naturally curious. I didn't say anything, but if I really strained out of the corner of my eye I could see some of what she was writing. I saw her sign off a long reply to a text message with "xx". I began to panic. But it could be something totally innocent, right? Girls do this all the time with their friends surely?

Then I though about it more. This was her work phone. And she worked in an almost exclusively-male job. Could Beth, my outwardly-conservative sort-of-ex-girlfriend be messaging another guy?

I had my answer within the hour.

I saw her sign-off another text message with "love and miss you xx".

My heart raced. I started to shake a little. My mouth went dry. She was seeing someone else. And what's more, it seemed serious judging by what I'd read.

She didn't notice me looking, she was too wrapped up in her own little world. Angrily, I blurted out "who is it you love?"

I had her attention now, she looked shocked and tried to switch it round and have a go at me for spying on her texts. I had so many questions, they just all came out at once in an incoherent stream...

"Who are you messaging?"

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"Is it a guy from work?"

"When did all this start?"

In the space of a few seconds she'd crumbled and was on the verge of tears, clearly upset. She ran out of the room, up the stairs and locked herself in the bathroom. Sadly she'd taken the phone with her, that would have made interesting reading and I'd absolutely have been straight in there if I could have.

As always, it was down to me. Her reaction clearly showed something had been going on, but if I wanted to get any answers from her, I needed to coax her out of the bathroom for a proper talk. At first she refused.

"No, I can't. What if you hate me?"

I knew not knowing would kill me. Better to know however bad it is.

I reassured her, without really believing what I was saying, or that I'd been reduced to begging my probably-cheating ex-girlfriend to come out and explain herself to me.

I suddenly felt very foolish. She'd basically dumped me and treated me like dirt, like an inconvenience, and I'd let her get away with it. I'd spent my weekends travelling hours to see her. I was here for her brother's birthday. And all this time she was lusting after someone else, wishing she was with him instead.

So why wasn't she? What the hell was going on?

I bent the truth a little in order to help find out.

"I won't hate you, I couldn't. I just need to know what's going on, please come out and talk to me honestly."

After a few more minutes, she sheepishly opened up the bathroom door and skulked out. She wouldn't look at me but it was obvious she'd been crying.

"In here" she said and led me across the hall to her bedroom. Her childhood bedroom - where we'd spent many nights together before when visiting. For once there was actually a double bed - although we'd never had sex in it. She was too shy about her parents or brother hearing us.

She closed the door and we sat on the end of the bed, she still wouldn't look at me. She cradled her work phone in her hand. It buzzed with another message, she briefly glanced to see who it was from.

"Can't you put that bloody thing down for 5 minutes?" I snapped.

She turned it off and leaned over to place it on her bedside cabinet. She was silent and it was clear that if I wanted to know anything I was going to have to drag it out of her.

"Right" I began. "I'm not stupid you know, I saw what you were texting, so who is it you love and miss? Are you seeing someone else?"

Silently, she nodded, still looking at the floor.

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters, it is somebody I know? Someone I've met?"

"No." That made me feel microscopically better.

"So not Rob or Steve then?". Referring to her housemates.

"What? No!" she protested, as if the suggestion was totally crazy.

"But someone from work?"

Again, the silent nod towards the floor.

"Who knows? Your housemates? Your family? Our friends? Is everyone out there laughing at me?"

"No, of course not, nobody knows."

That struck me as a little odd. Why would a 'single' girl keep a relationship which had progressed to the level of 'love' secret from everyone she knows?

Confused, I asked a rather naive question.

"And have you slept together?"

"Babe..." she shook her head and raised her hands like it was an inappropriate question to ask.

"I need to know."

"Well of course we have, we're not kids." She snapped.

That was clear enough. At this thoroughly expected news, for some reason I felt my cock stirring. I dismissed it and pressed on. I had to ask the killer question, I'd skirted around it long enough.

"How long has it been going on?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters, and please tell me the truth, I deserve that. Promise me you'll tell me the truth whatever it is."

"I promise." She muttered meekly.

"So, how long?"

"August."

"August!" I repeated. She'd only started there in mid-July.

"So you've been together 3 months?"

"Not 3. It was the 8th August. And we're not 'together' as such."

She mimed air-quotes around the word 'together'. She'd remembered the exact date.

"Not together? You've been sleeping with him. You were cheating on me for over a month."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was shaking now.

"How can you not be together? Unless he's just casually stringing you along, the fucking tosser."

"No, we're much more than casual - and don't call him names, he's nice."

I couldn't believe the insensitivity on her part, defending him to me.

"Oh yeah he sounds really nice." I snapped sarcastically.