One Step Behind

"Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!"

Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!

The lounge in which Caroline's virgin blood was being spilled -- literally as the pink stain on her parents' new, shag-pile rug showed the next morning -- was large and lit by only a handful of candles. In the half light, her eyes glowed with an intensity of passion and desire that I had never seen before, her huge, deep black pupils fixed on mine, her hand gripping my fingers like a vice, as her body was pummelled by my closest friend.

Meanwhile at my own groin, Annabel was working overtime on my erection, her hand pumping my shaft hard as her lips and tongue played with my swollen head. It would not be long before I came and, as had happened only once before, my entire load of semen would be taken into Annabel's eager mouth before being swallowed wholesale.

From the noises coming from his mouth and the heat growing at the base of my cock, it sounded as if both Marcus and I would be finishing at about the same time -- and that time was approaching at lightspeed.

A strange kind of simultaneous orgasm indeed.

"Oh God! Oh fucking Hell Caroline you're amaaazingggg!"

As Marcus began to ejaculate deep inside Caroline's completely unprotected vagina, Annabel's free hand grasped my tight sack. Her tongue licked around the ridge under the head of my cock as the fingers around my shaft tightened and pumped as hard and fast as they could.

"Fuck! Oh yes! Oh fuck!"

My own climax rushed upon me, sending a fountain of teenage semen upwards and into the welcoming mouth of the hottest girl in the school. Annabel sucked it up without hesitation, drawing every last drop between the lips I had kissed so hard and so often.

As I came in her friend's mouth and Marcus came in her vagina for the first time, my fingers were still clasped around Caroline's and our eyes were still locked tightly together.

Chapter Four

So that's how my sex life began, like so many aspects of my life, a few steps behind Marcus.

He had taken Caroline's cherry with witnesses and had thereby immediately become a boy to be respected within the school. With the lack of fairness between the sexes prevalent at the time, Caroline had equally promptly, acquired a reputation as a slut.

Given what was to happen later, this title was perhaps a little prescient but at the time it felt grossly unfair to me, her friend and increasingly devoted admirer.

Of course, never one to be beaten, I redoubled the attention I paid and the pressure I put on Annabel. She resisted nobly but I persevered, arousing her with my fingers more effectively than ever before, whenever we got the chance. She resisted still, but I could feel that resistance beginning to crumble.

The final breach came during another sleepover party in another friend's house. There, in the small hours of the morning on a mattress on the spare bedroom floor - after my fingers had done their preliminary work more thoroughly than ever before - I dared to use my mouth between her thighs for the first time.

At first, the strong aromas and even stronger flavours that filled my mouth and nose as Annabel's vaginal juices flowed, took me by surprise. But the extraordinary strength of her reaction to the touch of my tongue on her slit. overcame any initial revulsion I might have experienced and drove me to concentrate harder on the job in hand.

Working my mouth inexpertly for all I was worth, I felt the new and mind-bending sensations of a girl's vulva on my tongue. The metallic taste of her secretions; the soft folds of the inner lips that guarded her entrance, the seemingly endless depth of her vagina as I thrust my tongue deep into it; the strange, fleshy collection at the apex of her slit.

I had almost no idea where her clitoris was but with completely undeserved luck, a long upward stroke of my tongue raised its meaty hood and revealed the hard nub beneath.

The loud gasp that came from Annabel's mouth and the way her thighs closed hard on the sides of my head told me what I needed to know: I had found it by accident.

Once I realised I had hit the sweetest of sweet spots, I worked at it with my tongue for all I was worth.

The climax that followed took us both by surprise. Annabel yelped, bucked and grabbed my hair so hard I was sure handfuls would come out. I attacked her slit again with similar results, her cries growing even louder.

For the first time, over the pungent taste of her initial arousal, I tasted the unforgettable nectar of a girl's bitter orgasmic vaginal juices flowing directly in my mouth, her flailing thighs spreading the strong-smelling goo all over my cheeks and jaw as she came and came helplessly.

After this, Annabel was completely unable to resist my clumsy attempts on her virginity. While she was still stunned, I mounted her as Marcus had mounted Caroline and, with her dazed but clear acceptance, thrust my unprotected cock into her weeping vagina.

I can still remember the incredible, almost unbelievable feeling the first time my erect cock entered a girl's warm, smooth, tight vagina and the way that girl responded to being penetrated for the first time.

Over the past months I had fingered her so hard, so often and so deeply that there could have been little of Annabel's hymen left. All the same, the sensation of having a real, full-sized penis in her vagina for the first time was an even greater shock than her first oral orgasm.

Annabel's whole body went stiff, her legs straightened sharply, her eyes fixed on mine, but she made no attempt to stop me. I stared back, for a moment frozen in shock.

After so long trying, my erect cock was finally inside a girl's vagina. What on earth did I do next?

I had been so fixated on losing my own cherry, I hadn't thought about what fucking a girl might actually entail.

Fortunately, Annabel had no idea either, so was in no position to judge my lamentably weak and short-lived performance. As she became more accustomed to the unfamiliar presence in her body, her legs began to bend and her body became if not actually relaxed, then at least a little less rigid. Her knees parted further under pressure from my thighs, giving me enough freedom to draw back and make my first clumsy thrust.

Annabel gasped as I forced myself into her, her legs closing as if to prevent my progress. I pulled back and thrust again, a little more controlled this time. She gasped again, her knees becoming little less of a barrier.

I tried again and again. By the time my fifth and sixth thrusts had made their way into her formerly virgin vagina, her resistance had all but evaporated and, though not playing an active part in her defloration, Annabel's eyes told me that she no longer wanted to resist.

After that, the way was clear for me to get as close as I was able to my first proper fuck. Annabel bit her lip hard as I thrust in and out of her body maybe a dozen times before she began to moan and wail, much as she had when I fingered her but louder and with a sharp, aroused edge that I had not heard before.

It turned out that in the throes of defloration, Annabel made even more noise than when she reached orgasm on my fingers. Her wails became screams of arousal, then grunts of encouragement.

I fucked her harder, the noises emanating from our conjoined groins and from her open mouth growing louder and louder until the familiar burning feeling between my thighs descended with an intensity I hadn't known before.

As my body was wracked by approaching climax, what passed for rhythm broke completely and less than a dozen strokes later, my teenage stamina gave up completely and I came copiously, deep inside her body.

Her tears afterwards were so loud that not only must every one of our schoolfriends realised what was happening, the parents of the girl in whose house the sleepover was taking place must also have been woken.

It can only have taken seconds for them to understand who was wailing and why but thank God, they stayed upstairs and, apart from making sure Annabel was okay the next morning, said and did nothing.

As it was, Annabel was more than okay psychologically and had willingly accepted a repeat performance in the small hours of the morning, which I had been very pleased to provide. This time her wails were more in pleasure than in fear or in pain.

After the sleepover, my reputation was made too. From that moment on I was the boy who had popped the most desired cherry in the school; a badge to be worn with pride.

I did not let on that in relieving Annabel of her virginity I had also relieved myself of my own. Only I needed to know that little fact. Let the rest of the school believe me to be Number One Stud for a while.

Only Caroline gave me a knowing smile that suggested she and I now shared another secret. I blushed and my heart ached.

Chapter Five

For the next few months school occupied almost all our attention. As Annabel's official lover instead of just her boyfriend, I had a level of respect among my piers that I was not used to, and access to Annabel's wonderful body whenever the two of us could sneak off in secret.

This we did frequently, in the cricket pavilion, in the long grass beside the canal, in both her bed and mine, once even in the gym over a vaulting horse.

We were young and stupid, fucking carelessly and without any thought of protection, almost every encounter ending with my shooting my entire load into her completely exposed and vulnerable body.

It should have been the happiest time of my life, but it wasn't.

Although the male half of the school saw me as the lucky bastard who was fucking the hottest girl in town, for some reason it wasn't enough. Yes, the sex was good and getting better. Yes, I was the envy of every red-blooded male in the school but there was something missing. Something big.

Far from being the luckiest boy in the school, I couldn't help seeing myself as the boy who had watched the love of his life being deflowered by his best friend. And who had enjoyed watching it.

No, that's not strong enough. Who had loved watching it!

What made it worse was that Caroline kept giving me those knowing looks throughout the whole period; as if she could see through all the bullshit and straight into my soul.

As it turned out, she could and still can!

Meanwhile, the love of my life and her boyfriend were being at least as active as Annabel and me. On many occasions we double-dated, drinking illicitly at the far edge of the sports fields then all four of us ending up in the Cricket pavilion where, in the same room and on the same randomly placed gym mats, we fucked our respective partners with far more enthusiasm than technique.

Marcus and my grunts at ejaculation were all but drowned out by Annabel's wailing as I fucked her for all I was worth, but as I emptied my balls into her skinny body once again and heard my best friend reaching climax alongside me, all I wanted was to hear Caroline's soft panting sighs, to look at her wide-open thighs and deep into her soft brown eyes as my best friend fucked the living daylights out of her.

This, according to Marcus, was a revelation. Once her virginity had gone, Caroline had apparently changed dramatically from a hesitant virgin into a girl whose enthusiasm for sex was passionate, demanding and exhausting.

From the things he told me in private, and from what I saw and heard in the pavilion, sweet, quiet Caroline threw herself into their copulations with energy, daring and imagination, becoming if not the slut her reputation suggested, at the very least a girl driven hard by the collection of organs between her thighs.

Having heard them together with my own ears, I had no reason to doubt my best friend, but his words brought me more pain than either he knew, or I had expected.

***

So, our last term at school ended with four fewer virgins, and the summer holidays began with Marcus and Caroline as one item and me and Annabel as another.

It was to be a summer of love in every sense. Being a boarding school, our homes were all some distance away from each other -- in my case in another country so we couldn't be with our other halves as often as we would have liked.

Nevertheless, we had visits and sleepovers aplenty; I would stay with Marcus or at Annabel's and we all got together often enough to keep the relationships going, at least physically. And of course, as we became more sexually experienced, that side of our lives grew more satisfying.

It sounds strange now but, probably because of the way our sexual awakenings had happened, we seemed most relaxed sexually when in a group of four rather than as separate couples. It did not feel in any way wrong for me to fuck Annabel in the same room in which Marcus was fucking Caroline, as if each couple was learning from the other, or perhaps each one of us was learning from the other three.

If it was a learning process, it worked well. The first time I made Annabel cum with my cock is something I shall never forget. The first time I heard Caroline reach one of her breathless, choking climaxes under Marcus is an even more profound memory.

But all good things must come to an end. Come September, it was time to go to University and for the gang of four to separate; Marcus to study Chemistry in Edinburgh, Annabel to read French in Exeter. Both of these were a long way from London where Caroline and were both bound; to the same city but to different Universities, me to study Engineering, Caroline to study History.

There was a last night, farewell sleepover in Caroline's parents' house during which I tried to make up for the coming weeks of abstinence by fucking and cumming in Annabel no less than four times in a single night, setting a pace which Marcus and Caroline struggled to match.

Oh, the joys of youth and short recovery times!

Then, swearing eternal friendship to each other and fidelity to our respective partners, promising to keep in touch and see each other often, we went off to our respective Universities.

Chapter Six

First year University life back then was not the sex-charged, alcohol fuelled binge it seems to have become now, but there was no shortage of things to do and parties to go to. All four of us seemed to take full advantage of this so our well-intended plans to keep in touch became less and less well kept.

These were the days before mobile phones had even been invented, let alone become the universal accessories they are now. Email didn't exist, there was no Facebook, Instagram or twitter; communications had to be by post or by pre-arranged phone calls from public call boxes. Cars were expensive too; only a handful of students had one and almost none of these were in London.

Keeping long-distance relationships alive in these circumstances was a huge challenge and surprisingly quickly, the closeness of the gang of four began to crumble.

The excitement of living and studying in London was for me, almost overwhelming. My student accommodation was right in the centre, placing my spinning provincial head in the heart of all the Big City had to offer. There were so many people, so many places to go, so many things to do -- and so much money needed to do them all.

The Hall of Residence was full of interesting fellow students too, from all over the country. I made new friends easily, staying up late at night talking, drinking and eating endless quantities of that student staple diet: toast.

And there were so many girls!

Coming from a boarding school where female students were in such short supply, the number, variety and apparent accessibility of University girls was simply astonishing. Though floors and corridors in the Halls of Residence were separated by gender, all meals and 'freshers' events were fully mixed. Even on my male-dominated Engineering course, there were half a dozen reasonably attractive girls.

With so many distractions, undertaking any form of study was enough of a challenge, so to my shame, keeping in touch with all my old school friends took second place. In my defence, they seemed to find it equally difficult to keep in touch with me, but wherever the blame lay, a certain distance began to develop.

Unexpectedly, Marcus and I lost touch very quickly. The pressures of our courses added to the huge distance between us made communication difficult and expensive. After only one visit to London from his student flat in Edinburgh, it was clear that this long-distance friendship was going to be very tough to maintain.

Caroline was also studying in London, but in big cities, people tend to run on rails and apart from a couple of coffees in our first two weeks, our paths didn't cross. To be fair, she tried hardest of us all to keep the gang together, but after a few months and a poor response from the rest of us, she lost the will to continue.

Even my relationship with Annabel was put under strain.

Whatever the distractions, no teenage boy is going to completely neglect the girl he last had sex with, or the girl most likely to be his next fuck, so I did make what for me, was a significant effort to keep in touch with Annabel, phoning once a week and writing whenever I remembered to do so.

Annabel was much better, at first sending me two or three letters a week, covered with pink love hearts and full of promises of exciting meetings to come. But after a month, even these had dwindled to at best one rather less emotional page for me to masturbate to at the weekend.

The problem was that her Exeter student hall was several hours of expensive rail journey from my London bedroom. We spoke on the phone once a week and sent each other the occasional letter which kept things going, albeit at a much lower intensity than before.

Then, six weeks into our first term away, I paid British Rail a small fortune and visited her for a weekend in her new environment.

On the face of it, the weekend was great. When she met me at the station, Annabel looked every bit as drop-dead gorgeous as I remembered her, and seemed pleased to see me too, though from the beginning it was obvious that time apart had introduced a bit of reserve to our first embrace.

The weekend flew by; I met lots of her new friends and with them, discovered an amazing city I had really only heard of before. Her group of closest friends were great fun, clever and good company. They welcomed me warmly, but I didn't get most of the private jokes, and couldn't help feeling that I was very much an outsider.

As you would expect with a girl as intimidatingly good looking as Annabel, she had surrounded herself with a clique of equally attractive people, both female and male. As an outsider, I could see the complicated interactions going on between them - perhaps even better than they could themselves.

By the Sunday morning I had formed clear views about who fancied who and how badly, who had already been inside whose knickers and was trying to keep it secret, and even whose adoration was unrequited.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of that adoration was directed towards my girlfriend, and more than a little envy was directed at me as a result.

There was more than a little hero worship going on too, something even Annabel was not immune to. Indeed on Saturday afternoon, she insisted we joined the gang gathered on the touchline to watch Simon and Hugh, two ludicrously well-built and good looking friends, play rugby for the University's second fifteen before heading into town for an evening in the pubs to celebrate their victory.

We all got drunk together and I really enjoyed the experience. Hugh was a hard beer drinker, something he blamed on his Welsh heritage. He and I got on well and sank several pints together, but Simon seemed to be avoiding me, choosing to spend most of the evening with the girls.

And who could blame him? Annabel looked simply stunning all weekend, as did the other girls -- some of whose attention came my way too - but despite the two of us fucking three times in her narrow student bed, I could tell something had changed between us.