Predator Tales Ch. 03

Stolen sex with other men's women was my weakness, as I discovered at university almost half a century ago.

They called the youngsters 'Freshers': students new to university, some barely eighteen. Leaving home for the first time, these fresh-faced kids were excited but nervous at entering this new, more grow- up world.

But, for the girls, university would be a gauntlet.

This was in Britain back in the seventies. Skirts were short, the contraceptive pill had become available and attitudes to sex were changing. By the time they got to university some of the girls were still virgins. That didn't last long with older students like me around.

More common was the girl who'd given herself to her childhood sweetheart who she was hoping to marry one day. Even for them, danger lurked.

And Liz was one of those. In those days getting to university was rare and her boyfriend, Ray, wasn't so good academically. He'd become a mechanic and had been left behind at home to fix cars and wait for her return. Liz was small, barely five foot tall, with waist length red hair. Slightly built, with a tiny bottom and demure breasts, she looked more like sixteen than eighteen. She was pretty with beautiful clear blue eyes and a shy, dimpled smile

In other words, she was cute as a button.

Offsetting this was her occasional earthy language. Describing Ray getting hoofed in the balls during a school football match, she said that for days afterwards he'd 'waddled around like a ruptured duck'.

To me that combination of sweetness with just a hint of bawdiness was a winner. I had to have her.

The university authorities warned the Fresher girls about predatory older students who would try to take advantage of them. These warnings were for the best of reasons, but they helped us more than hindered. A hint of sexual danger is an aphrodisiac all by itself. The girls looked at us with wariness but there was often something else in their eyes.

And I caught just a hint of that from Liz.

It helped that I looked the part. At six-foot I'm a good height, with a strong build and hair that's thick and black. Within a couple of hours of shaving I've grown stubble. I'm no movie star but most women find me presentable. I have a Bad Boy look and women like that, whatever they say to the contrary.

Which made me a bit too obvious. I'd have to lull Liz into a false sense of security, so she would view me with affection rather than as a threat. When I first introduced myself, I asked her gentle questions about herself, what music she liked, whether she missed home. All simple, all obvious. I arranged to show her around campus (with her friends of course, so there was safety in numbers), take her to the local shops and show her the best pubs in town.

As the days passed and she got more and more familiar with me, she'd confided about Ray, about what a nice caring guy he was, how they were engaged and how she missed him terribly. I told her about my own girlfriend Jess, who I too had left behind, though the truth was, I was only stringing Jess along for sex during the vacation, while sampling the college girls during term time.

North Americans will find this hard to believe, but the age of consent for sex is only sixteen in the UK, and the age for drinking alcohol is just eighteen. On top of that, British Halls of Residence had their own bars, profit free and run by the students themselves. That meant the booze was cheap and freely available. The Halls were sometimes mixed, with everyone having their own room and with only different floors separating the sexes.

So, we had nubile eighteen-year-old girls, horny twenty-year-old guys, cheap booze and the ready availability of private bedrooms.

What could possibly go wrong?

After several weeks of playing the good guy, I decided it was time to strike. That night there would be a disco in the Hall. My game plan was simple and well tested. Buy the girl drinks, always making them doubles rather than the requested singles. Start asking her for dances but only when the music was wild and the dancing free form with no touching. After a couple of those, and a few double strength drinks, at the end of each dance just give her a brief hug so she gets used to your touch. A few more drinks later and with a slow dance coming on, get her on the dance floor, your hands on her waist, your bodies gently moving in time.

By that point, Liz was a little unsteady on her feet. As we rocked gently back and forth it was quite natural for my hands to slide cross the cotton of her dress, my fingers almost, but never quite, touching her breasts and bottom.

After a few slow dances, our heads together, I went to kiss her.

Too soon! She leaned back and my lips missed hers. She wagged a finger back and forth. "Bad boy!" she said.

But she kept on dancing.

Out in the real world, drink was very expensive in those days and I doubted she'd ever had five gins, never mind the ten I'd poured into her. Her body had begun to weave more than dance and her words were slurring. We kept dancing, my fingers lightly touching her flesh through the thin cotton of her dress, my nose filled with her scent.

Eve's flesh- there's nothing more enchanting. Whatever it took, however risky, I had to possess her tonight.

A couple of slow dances later she brought up a hand to rub her brow. "Oooh, I feel a bit woozy," she said.

I nodded. "Same here. I've got some coffee in my room. Let's get some."

She gave a couple of big blinks. "OK, Ray."

For a second, she'd confused me with her boyfriend. Now was not the time to set her right.

We staggered up the stairs to my room. I'd had quite a bit of booze myself so I had to fumble to get my key out. Or perhaps I was a bit nervous myself.

As soon as we got in, she sat down heavily on my single bed. I sat down next to her, put my arm around her shoulders, drawing to me and my mouth finding hers. For an instant her lips resisted but then parted just enough for my tongue to enter.

After a while I felt her body relax against my arm, a gentle hint of surrender. I let my free hand slip over her waist and down her dress until my fingers touched the bare skin of her thigh.

And what skin! Like a lot of redheads her skin was creamy white in colour and smooth as the finest silk.

She brought a hand down to stop me, but I kissed her more passionately and her hand faltered. I feel her chest was rising and falling against me as her breathing became heavier.

Fearing she might resist my next move, I moved my arm that was around her shoulder so I could grasp the upper part of her left arm. Pressed into her as I was, my body was pinning her right arm. Now that she was unable to move, I slowly trailed my free hand lightly across her covered breasts, my fingers touching her nipples. They were raised enough to show their outlines through her bra and dress.

"No... don't," she whispered, struggling, but just a little. I gently squeezed one nipple between two fingers, while kissing her oh-so-gently on the forehead.

For such a petite girl, she had prominent nipples and I yearned to get my lips around them. I gave the nipple another squeeze, just a little bit harder. She closed her eyes and moaned, and was distracted enough that I had time to pull down the zip on the back of her dress, then slipping the dress down over her shoulders to reveal the skimpy little bra cupping her pert breasts.

"Stop, Ray!" she said but somehow it didn't ring true. I began to suspect that drunken confusion was just an excuse for her to taste forbidden fruit.

Not that it mattered to me either way.

I'd unhooked enough bras that it had become second nature. Though she was struggling now, it was a simple matter to pull the bra straps down over her shoulders. The cups fell away and her beautiful breasts were revealed, firm little swells with aureole of the most delicate pink. Her nipples were erect and begging to be sucked.

"Don't, don't!" she cried as I ran my tongue across her chest and took a nipple between my lips. "No, we mustn't!"

She was beginning to make too much noise, so I clamped my lips to hers, invading her again with my tongue, while still caressing her exposed breasts.

I have a gentle touch and soon she was struggling less and moaning more, her mouth opening wider so I could drive my tongue deeper. We were still sitting upright and her legs were tightly together, protecting her sex. Another line of defence to breach.

I grasped her left arm more tightly, her other still trapped against my body. I fell back on the bed, taking her with me. With my free hand I lifted her skirt and slid my fingers into the waistband of her little white panties. "No, no!" Liz cried as my fingers brushed across her pubic hair. Her thighs were soft enough that I could push my fingers between them, though she was trying to keep them closed.

My middle finger found her cunt, and slid in.

She was wet but tight.

I brought my finger out and lightly touched her clit. She jerked in surprise. I guessed Ray wasn't as familiar with female anatomy as I. Just a couple more gentle rubs and she was already beginning to squirm, her resistance fading.

I kept kissing her and I felt her getting wetter and wetter. I could smell her arousal. Again, moving quickly, so she didn't have time to stop me, I sat upright, lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. The bright red of her pubic hair was almost shocking. Up to then I'd only been with blonds and brunettes.

I must have hesitated for her arms came up, trying to block me. "Stop it! I'm going to get married."

Not caring, I grasped her thighs and parted them so that her cute little slit was revealed in all its startling pinkness. I leaned down and poked my tongue into her. Her back arched and she gasped in surprise.

God, I love the smell and taste of a woman!

"This is getting out of hand," she said. "We..."

Grasping her wrists in both hands, I pushed then down on the bed so she couldn't stop my explorations. Through experiment I found that poking my tongue against her clit had more effect than just licking it. Believe it or not, but oral sex was unusual in those days, especially amongst the young. I was taking Liz places she'd never been before.

I felt the resistance in her hands loosen, so I managed to get her two wrists in one of my hands, freeing the other to push a finger into her sex. She jerked again and emitted a cry caught between pleasure and despair.

My finger and my tongue soon had her thighs spasming. When she came it was like a revelation judging by the look on her face.

She was dazed and I seized the moment. I pushed her back on the bed and fell on top of her. I drove my tongue into her mouth again, pulling down my zip, hauling out my thick, heavy cock and easing it into her just a fraction.

My God, the tightness of her!

Impaled by my tongue and cock, she struggled briefly, but then went limp, surrendering.

I mauled her little breasts, pinching the nipples, caressing her soft pink aureole while my tongue fought hers, my cock slowly sinking deeper and deeper. I don't think Ray could have been as big as I for her cries mingled pleasure with pain.

"That's sore, that's sore!"

I was going to fuck her, come what way, but I didn't want to hurt her. Gently, I pulled out a little then eased back in. I kept doing that, pushing a tiny bit deeper each time.

Her hands were on my shoulders and they started to squeeze hard. "Ow! Ow! You big bastard! Oh God, it's like losing my virginity all over again!"

It seemed to take a long time, exquisite pleasure for me, tinged with soreness for her, before I was fully inside her, my crotch hard against hers, my black pubic hairs mashed into her red. Her head was tilted back and her mouth was open. I leaned in and touched the tip of her tongue with mine.

Then I fucked her as gently as I could. It slowly got easier, and she became looser.

After a few minutes she was starting to breathe more heavily, but we had some way to go yet. I pulled myself out and turned her over so she was on her knees. Her cute little cunt was now exposed and I entered her from behind. Her squirming only made my penetration feel better.

I was thrusting harder now but she seemed to be taking it. For a while I enjoyed the ripple of flesh across her bottom when I slammed into her. I was entranced by the pinkness of her inner lips as they stretched tight around my cock.

My climax was approaching and I knew how fierce I would get. I didn't want her resisting at a time like that. Turning her back over, I raised myself above her, then grasped both her wrists, pinning them down above her head. She lay there open and defenseless. I pushed myself back into her but this time I drove harder and harder, each savage thrust bouncing her up the bed. Soon her breathing became ragged.

Once I sensed she was ready, one glance down at her perfect little body, splayed and open for my pleasure, brought me to the frenzied thrusting of orgasm.

When I emptied my seed deep into her womb, I almost blacked out from the sudden release, but managed one last deep kiss, my tongue pushing through her unresisting lips.

I pulled back and out so I was on my knees, a final drop of sperm falling from the end of my cock onto her red hair of her groin. Without thinking I reached down and rubbed it into her clit and cunt.

She lay there like a starfish, her breasts heaving, shock and a sort of wonder in her eyes.

This could go either way. I needed to forestall any comeback.

"Oh my God! What have we done?" I said, putting my palms to my face. "What about Jess, what about Ray? I don't know what came over me. You were just... so beautiful, I couldn't stop myself. Did I hurt you? Please forgive me!"

She reached up and touched my hairy chest. "It's not all your fault. We shouldn't have had so much to drink."

That was way more magnanimous than I deserved. Again, I suspected that at some level she had been complicit. A Bad Boy had gotten her drunk and taken advantage of her. It hadn't been her fault!

I lay down beside her and cuddled her, playing the game. "What are we going to do? Are we going to tell them?" I asked.

We lay there naked together almost like lovers, or like predator and conquered prey (take your pick). We solemnly decided that no, on balance, it would be wise to keep this as our secret. It was just one night and it had been a mistake. There would be no repeat. We were young and foolish and had had too much to drink.

She was the one who had used the expression 'one night'. It made my heart leap for the night was still young. After a few minutes, I tentatively kissed her and she kissed me back.

"I'm sore," she said, "so you'll have to be gentle."

And I was. It was the least I could do.

It was indeed only that one night, if you don't count a single slip a month later during a summer party. We'd both got genuinely drunk and my memories are hazy but for one clear vision. Moonlight shining into my room, Liz naked and on her knees, one hand cupping my heavy balls, the other holding my cock while she struggled to get her little mouth around its thickness.

After that final night she went back to being faithful to poor deceived Ray and I went on to other girls. She did indeed end up marrying him. Years later, when sex with nice-guy Ray got a bit tame, I wonder if she ever thought of me.

I'll bet good money that she did.

It must have been great fun being the serpent in the Garden of Eden.

My encounter with Liz, tame though it was in comparison to the tricks I would later resort to in order to get my way, was what gave me a taste for other men's women. Because afterwards, I would think of poor Ray, earnestly working away for money to build a life for the woman he loved. Meanwhile a well-hung college boy had been enjoying her; touching her, tasting her, penetrating her, the pink lips of her sweet little sex stretched tight around his thrusting cock.

What a cruel thrill such thoughts gave me!

With later women, I would think of husbands blissfully unaware while I pillaged their wives' bodies for my sexual pleasure. When I sent the women home, the crotch of their panties soaking with my seed, I'd imagine them greeting their unsuspecting husbands, perhaps with a gentle kiss.

Yes, I'm sick and this is a form of sadism. However, I am what I am.

So, even now after many years and many women, I think back to what sent me down my perverse path; of beautiful little Liz and the cruelty of sexual intimacy stolen from young sweethearts.