The Hottest Fire Ch. 05

Chapter 5.University College

He met her at an opening of an art exhibition, in one of the great halls of the University. It was a rainy day; he was trying to find a way to kill time and discovered the event quite by chance. Quite by chance and without intent he noticed her standing next to him, looking at the same canvas

She was breathtakingly beautiful; slightly taller than him, a study in willowy curves with miles-long legs and a healthy pair of breasts that poked straight out with the incredible firmness that only a young girl may possess. She sported the supermodel-whore look that seemed to be the current rage with the young ladies these days: a lime green one-piece outfit that featured long sleeves, cut wide-open in the front down to the huge metallic buckle of a four-inch wide leather belt that rested on her hips, before ending in abbreviated bun-hugging shorts that displayed her fishnet stocking-clad thighs to their best advantage. She wore a sleeved shawl over her playsuit, crocheted in an open hooked pattern from strands of thick black yarn that made it look like it was fabricated from a circus act’s safety net; it hung down almost ankle-length. Her long legs sank down into a pair of calf-high boots, stiletto-heeled, of course. Her long, blonde hair was done up in the back into a loose bun, held in place with a pencil of all things, balancing out the slut-chic look with the slightly sophisticated air of a busy academic. A tightly tied paisley pattern silk scarf in tan and beige emphasized her long, thin neck. She regarded the world through a pair of round, wire-framed granny glasses tinted blue that served to enhance the cornflower blue of her eyes, and to magnify the pure sexual message her persona transmitted.

Ludlow wondered if she was American; he assumed he’d never have a chance with such an incredible bird.

The work they stood before was a typically unoriginal modern that featured thin lines on a washed jade green background; it looked like it was inspired by an engineer’s technical drawings. She was barely aware of his presence when he decided to strike up a conversation. "What do you think?"

“I don’t know if I like it. Perhaps here, in this setting, but I don’t think I could live with it. What do you think?”

“I dunno,” he said honestly. “Predictable. Average. Boring.”

“Do you like art?”

“I don’t like this.”

“What do you like, then?”

“Give me an honest Rembrandt, or a good Michelangelo over this modern stuff any day.”

“I could go with that,” she replied, and she ended up going with him.

Her straight, long hair and the blue-tinted wire-framed sunglasses she wore gave her a sixties-era hippy-chick look that Ludlow found fascinating. Ludlow imagined they looked an odd pair, he in his tweeds and turtleneck, she with her love beads and granny glasses. He wondered if he’d ever have a chance with the taller girl.

Over cappuccinos in the Student Union he told her his name; Jonathon Ludlow. Her name was Barbara, she was twenty-two, and she seemed very talkative. His first impressions were incorrect; she wasn’t American, she was a surprisingly fresh and vivacious London girl in her second year at University, studying history. Although she felt it was a bit of a waste of time, attending University to study a subject that one could very well do on their own, she didn’t know what else would interest her enough to make an effort at. In the same offhand manner she casually commented that she was currently experimenting with lesbianism, as if it were a class she was taking. All her past boyfriends, she stated candidly, knew more about football than fucking.

It was growing late. Ludlow suggested dinner. Barbara accepted. His car delighted her; she practically squealed as she slid around on the Jaguar’s calfskin interior. The place he took her to pleased her even more; very expensive and very exclusive. She ate with gusto; one could barely survive on the food they dished up in the University cafeteria, she told him. “So tell me about yourself,” she said, spearing a piece of perfectly done steak with her fork and popping it into her mouth.

He told her the usual cover story; he was Canadian, from northern Ontario - true - an electrical engineer – also true - he worked for a steel company as a sort of consultant to overseas clients – this part was cover. He was taking a couple of years off to finish a graduate degree. He was single, never married, no kids – this part was true as well. Barbara seemed truly contented in his company.

They ended up in a pub near the University grounds – neutral grounds for a first date. Barbara was washing her meal down with a pint of beer, Ludlow nursed a single malt Scotch. A hulking young man suddenly interrupted their tête-à-tête.

“So wot’s this then? I thought you were going lesbo?” he said rudely. He was obviously some kind of jilted ex-; one of the football types Barbara had mentioned earlier, obviously full of grog.

“Oh, I, uh . . . . . . go away, Reggie. Don’t you know it’s over between us?” She was clearly upset.

“And who’s this geezer? You screwing the profs now, eh?” Reggie poked a couple of hard fingers into Ludlow’s chest. With that gesture he made two mistakes; his first and his last.

Ludlow secured the offending fingers in a tight overhand grip. He stood up, kicking his barstool away behind him as he did so. He twisted Reggie’s arm around cruelly as he brought the hand he gripped to his hip and secured the boy’s wrist with his other hand. Reggie went over face into the bar, his free hand grasping about as if seeking an escape from the source of total, overwhelming pain. Ludlow applied a further twist; an unmistakable pop reported the boy’s shoulder was dislocated. Still holding on to the fingers, Ludlow reached down, applied an iron grip to Reggie’s testicles and lifted the lad high up onto his toes.

Reggie was now in such pain he couldn’t even howl. All he could see was a solid white spot floating before his eyes; his peripheral vision was gone. Reggie sucked for breath as Ludlow squeezed his balls and mercilessly twisted the dislocated arm. Ludlow walked him bent over to the door of the pub and booted him out into the street, was scarcely breathing hard when he returned to a stunned and visibly shaken Barbara.

“What . . . . . . what . . . . . . happened?” was all she could muster to say.

“I just defended your honour,” he replied matter-of-factly. He regretted the action, assumed that the brief display of violence had blown any chances with the beautiful young girl.C’est la guerre, he thought.

The landlord came over. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be moving on,” he said, but not disrespectfully. Ludlow nodded and threw a wad of bills onto the bar.

“Come on, Barbara. Let’s get out of here before the first Sevens show up.” He helped her into her coat. The poor girl was obviously in a state of shock.

He took her home, saw her off at her doorstep; a Victorian row house, typical student lodgings. At the top of the steps Barbara surprised him when she turned around and ran back down to the pavement. Her hands went into his overcoat to hold him, draw him close. She closed her eyes and bent down to gently kiss him on the forehead. “I’ve never had anybody . . . . . . uh . . . . . . defend my . . . . . . uh . . . . . . honour . . . . . . before,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there, Barbara.” He eyes were at about neck level on the taller girl.

“I’d like to see you again, Jonathon,” she said, regarding him over her wire-frames. She leaned down to kiss his forehead and lightly run her fingers through his hair. He just stood there looking up at her, silent, only his eyes visible under the light of the streetlamp on the corner. A definite non-verbal conversation occurred. “Oh, wot the hell,” Barbara said as she took his hand. “You defended my honour tonight. Why don’t you come in?”

* * *

The place was dark. Barbara turned on a small lamp on a hallway table by the doorway then indicated for them to remain silent with a finger to her lips. “Let me look in on my girlfriend,” she said in a low whisper, “she’s got an important exam tomorrow, so she was going to turn in early.” When Barbara saidgirlfriendLudlow got the distinct impression she meant more than a friend who simply happened to be a girl, more than just a roommate.

While she went down the hallway to the back of the house Ludlow’s eyes adjusted to the dark. At some point the interior of the older house had been remodelled in the modern style; it featured a modern kitchen arrangement with a counter that opened to the dining area, lots of bare brick where the plaster had been sandblasted back, and bare hardwood floors. A couple of comfortable sofas were arranged around a coffee table in front of a television set. There was a computer on a desk at a far corner and a large bookshelf full of textbooks, testimony to her student occupation.

Barbara appeared behind the kitchen counter. She’d discarded the loosely knit black shawl in the back somewhere. “I have some cognac,” she said, holding up a bottle.

“Sounds fine.”

He sat on one of the tall stools by the kitchen counter while she located glasses and poured. Then she came around the counter with two snifters in her hands. “Let’s sit on the sofa, shall we?”

They sat together, quite close. They clinked glasses.

“To . . .?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Good health,” he said simply.

She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”

They sipped their liquor, then Barbara replaced her glass to the coffee table and turned to face him. The chopstick came out of her bun and with a casual toss of her head her long blonde hair cascaded down in silky tresses. Ludlow received the distinct message that the evening wasn’t to be wasted on idle conversation. He put his glass beside hers on the table, then put an arm up, ran his fingers along the side of her face and tucked a strand of blonde hair back in place behind her ear. They’d kissed outside the door; the ice was already broken, so Ludlow didn’t hesitate. He placed his hand behind her head and gently pulled her toward him. She closed her eyes, he closed his; they exchanged a long, slow, open-mouthed soul kiss.

His other hand went to her lap, rested gently on her thigh. Barbara’s hand went to his lap and brushed gently across the hardening bulge in his trousers, almost by accident at first, then returning to blatantly stroke his hard rod, clearly signalling the direction their making-out was to take. Ludlow moved his hand up to caress her pert, young breasts. He ran his hand across her chest to cup and feel first one firm, round breast and then the other. Her breasts were full, yet constrained so tightly against the fabric of her garment that he could barely pinch her nipples. Barbara arched her back, pushing her chest out to where her globes were in danger of bursting free of the very cloth that restrained them. Slowly pulling her zippered front, her outfit’s open vee front widened. Ludlow accepted this as an invitation to run his hand inside and cup, caress and fondle her breasts, to tug and pinch at her nipples as their tongues continued to silently do battle in aduello d’amour.

Barbara willingly took his tongue deep into her mouth, stroking his hard cock through his trousers while letting his hands roamed freely across her body. It occurred to Ludlow that she was quite young enough to be his daughter, conceivably his granddaughter, even.

His hand trailed downward tracing a line beneath her navel to the juncture of her thighs, but the wide belt buckle and the tightness of her pantsuit would not allow access; he could barely feel through the folds where the garment collected at her crotch. Exploiting this barrier to playfully tease him, she spread her legs wide, pulling the belt and fabric of her clothing tighter to her skin, a move that allowed him to run his hand completely across her pubic mound yet frustrated any efforts to move beneath her clothing. He rubbed her slit until the fabric beneath his fingertips smouldered with the heat of her pussy. Barbara then indicated that it was time to progress to the next level of lovemaking by breaking the kiss. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” she whispered.

“Uh, your roommate?” Ludlow mentioned, out of discretion.

“I’ve got my own room. It’s okay,” she said. Her earlier comments to him concerning Lesbianism came to mind. “I said I’mexperimenting with girls, right?” She loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt. They got up and went to her room.

The only light in her room was a light glow through closed Venetian blinds. He unfastened that annoying belt and peeled her out of the lime green playsuit. Now she stood before him wearing only fishnet pantyhose stockings over black lace panties. She was absolutely beautiful. Her hands went to undo his shirt, his trousers. Soon he, too, was quite naked. They kissed. Her hands went to caress his rigid tool, sticking out in front of him like a policeman’s nightstick, while he tickled and pinched her nipples. She backed away from him, pulled back the bedcovers, then positioned herself in the middle of the pillows. With her stocking clad legs crossed in front of her the fishnet material described parabolic patterns down the curvatures of her legs to where her ankles crossed in front of her crotch. She held her arms folded across her chest, barely concealing her magnificent tits, her hands resting upon opposite shoulders. While her position and attitude reminded Ludlow of some classic sex siren from the halcyon days of the freewheeling sixties, Barbara’s pose was completely spontaneous and unaffected. He joined her on the bed and they entwined themselves in each other.

The fishnet stockings were peeled off and tossed aside, her lace panties soon joined them on the floor. He kissed his way down her neck to her chest, kissing each breast in turn. She sighed as he licked and sucked her nipples. His hand went to that which was previously denied by layers of clothing; she willingly opened her legs to let him stroke the soft nether hair of her pussy. As he trailed fingertips across her labia her pussylips parted, allowing him to spread her moisture the length of her slit, up to her budding clitoris. He rubbed in slow, gentle circles, then withdrew his fingertips to place them at her mouth. She sucked them, licked them to make them wet, and he returned them to her nether lips, sliding wet fingers back and forth across her love button.

Barbara moaned in ecstasy. She spread her legs wide as he played with her pussy and clit. Ludlow mounted her, placed the head of his cock on her wet pussylips. He reached down and expertly parted her pussylips with his fingers before gently edging his blunt cockhead into her hot, wet pussy. He worked it back and forth until there was enough wetness to allow him to thrust into her. “OOOHHHHHHHHH!!!” she exclaimed, quite involuntarily, as he slid his rigid pole fully into her hot wet pussy.

She wrapped her arms about him, her long legs entwining him like a spider monkey. Her mouth went to his, her lips formed an “o”, and she sucked upon his tongue. She wished to be filled with him, completely connected; it was almost as if he was fucking her mouth with his tongue at the same time he was fucking her pussy with his hard cock. She loved it. Ludlow’s short, compact body went up and down, in and out, slowly at first; his wide hands cupping her asscheeks, squeezing them and pulling her closer to him.

Barbara now existed in a world that consisted solely of his hot dick and her wet pussy wrapped around it. She thrilled to the sensation of his shaft drilling her wet hole. Her hands went to his asscheeks, her fingers dug into the hard muscles there and urged him to plough her deeper, faster. Her nails were little daggers pushing him into her, urging Ludlow to increase the speed and power of his thrusts. Quite soon her pussy muscles twitched about his length, then clamped hard around his dick as she went into the first throes of orgasm.

“OH, OH, OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” she cried. Liquid squirted out of her pussy as she reached climax; slowly falling over a massive cliff and never reaching the bottom, riding a massive waterfall down to the churning waters below. Ludlow did not desist, as her pussy convulsed and spasmed he continued to plough her with his hot, hard dick. He finally pulled out, panting and groaning like a bull as he came in buckets. Thick, gooey strands of cum splashed her belly, her heaving chest, even her neck and her chin.

His now softening dick lay against on her pussy. He paused, chest heaving from his exertions. After awhile Ludlow rolled aside, then leaned over to kiss her cum-drenched body, first one breast, then the other; to suck one cum-covered nipple and then the other.

Barbara pulled his face up to hers and kissed him. When their lips parted and their tongues met once more she tasted the semen on his lips. It was the first time she had ever tasted sperm; she was somewhat surprised to find the taste of a man’s seed was not at all unpleasant.

They lay back and regarded one another in the dim light that seeped through the Venetian blinds, revelling in the afterglow of their lovemaking. After a long while Barbara got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up. She returned with a wet washcloth and went about scrubbing Ludlow’s tool. His thick cock definitely twitched beneath her fingers with little post-orgasmic spasms. The cloth went to the floor. She climbed under the covers curled up in his arms; the tall, willowy Barbara was now a little girl seeking the quiet warmth and strength of her Daddy’s arms. After awhile she spoke.

“I don’t sleep with a man on the first night out,” she said quietly, her head on his chest. “You’re an exception.”

“I hope I’m not habit-forming,” he said.

“Baby, I think you’re heroin,” she said.