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The Demonstration Girl

I was 17, living in a bedsit in London. It wasn’t that adventurous – the bank I was working for found the bedsit and paid my deposit upfront. It was a good lifestyle if you were prepared to put up with the accommodation and appreciate the location. I was based in Bayswater, worked in the West End and played rugby in RIchmond for London Welsh every weekend.

On this particular Saturday myself and my mate were on our way from Richmond to a pub in Grays Inn Road for a few pints. It was one of those pubs around the Welsh centre in Greys Inn Road where a valleys accent wasn’t a social disability. On the way we met these two lasses in New Oxford Street, trying to make their way from a demo they’d been on back to Paddington for a train home to the west country. Since it was eight pm they were in trouble if they thought they were going to make the last Saturday night train, but we offered to help and take them to Paddington by tube just in case they got lucky.

They’d missed the train. They weren’t happy, but they didn’t have much choice, or much chance of finding a hotel room. So the skinny one, the one whose face was eighteen with the body of a fourteen year old, which is what she was, phoned her mum from a callbox and lied about a friend of one of their teachers who had also been on the demo putting them up for the night. There were no mobile phones in those days, and they seemed to think they’d be able to get the teacher to cover for them before their mums could find out, so they were free in London for the night. Then the plump one went through the same routine with her mum, and it was game on. We went to the Shakespeare on Westbourne Grove and drank a bit less than I normally would, and avoided the roving eye of the landlord, who didn’t mind under age drinkers provided they stayed quiet and out of sight . And we sorted out the idea of the night; that they’d stay at my place, with Dai bunking down on the floor with the homely looking plump one and the skinny one in the bed with me. She would keep her jeans on, apparently. Dai seemed to have better prospects, and I felt I’d wasted some of the time I’d spent impressing the skinny one with pseudo intellectual comments and letraset politics that would have made a grown up blush.

That was the deal though, and that was how we ended up. Dai had the spare duvet and some cushions, and the skinny one was true to her word, bunking down in one of my tee-shirts, her jeans and and a sulk. I couldn’t figure it out – did she really expect to get the bed to herself?

Then the plump one started. She was necking with Dai like a Dyson with a turbo fitted, and she was eager. That was no consolation to me, but the sound effects were an additional cause for complaint. There’s enthusiastic, and there’s just plain noisy. The skinny one didn’t approve either. She started out facing away from me, towards her mate, but even after I’d put on some music to cover the noise coming from under the duvet she turned away from her mate which left her facing me. So while Tom Robinson sang about living in East Berlin we tried to talk, and to ignore the noises.

After some desultory stuff about bands she’d never heard of, and pop stuff I couldn’t stand, she said ‘she always does this’, and I kissed her on the end of her nose, as if I was so much older and wiser.
‘She’s allowed to be herself if she wants to.’ She wrinkled her brow.
‘Why just do it though? She cheapens herself.’
Judging by the noises she wasn’t cheap as much as free, but that point probably wouldn’t win me friends. Arguing that people should do what they like didn’t persuade her either.
‘He’s barely said a word to her all night. And I’ll bet he doesn’t even like this album.’
He didn’t, she was right, but İstanbul Escort that didn’t seem to inhibit them, and, to be honest, it was a poor argument. I wasn’t sure I liked the album either, but I liked the glassy sound of the guitar, and the air of foreignness and distance that surrounded the sparse arrangements. So I left her labouring under the illusion that I liked everything about the album, and tried to pretend I’d actually got to the end of Scritti Politti album I’d bought because Green had lived not far from us once.

When the conversation paused I decided to take a chance on kissing her. She didn’t seem to mind, but after a couple more kisses and a tentative attempt to get my hand under the outsize teeshirt (advertising the Pirates – not a band I imagined she’d like) she turned back onto the other side, so she was facing away from me, but towards the writhing bodies under the duvet. There wasn’t much light from the stereo, but she must have been able to see the duvet moving , same as I was.

I wasn’t totally dissuaded. I tried kissing the back of her neck. It sort of worked. She settled against me, and didn’t wriggle away when I got my hand onto her stomach under the teeshirt. The spell was broken when a leg appeared from under the duvet with a pair of panties round the ankle. Skinny turned back towards me, as if in disgust, but didn’t make any effort to get my hand from under the tee-shirt, even when I slipped it upwards to rest on her small, bra covered breast. The plump one was giving voice now, urging Dai to do it harder. What he was doing that needed to be done harder was evidenced by the slapping noises and the way his arse could be seen moving up and down under the duvet. While Dai was giving it nineteen to the dozen I was spending what seemed like ages getting the skinny one’s bra strap undone, but I got there eventually..

The little gasp she gave when her bra was undone was worth it. The hardness of her nipples was a surprise too; they were like tiny jewels, responding to every touch. She didn’t object when I stroked her arse over her jeans either. She became more tentative when the noise from the floor died down after what sounded like a noisy orgasm from Little Miss Enthusiasm. I got the impression that Little Miss Skinny, by contrast, didn’t want to be the centre of attention. After a pause the other two started whispering and giggling – there may have been a fanny fart that set them off, but I couldn’t be sure. I took my chance, once they’d started making some noise and tried to undo the button at the top of her jeans. She grabbed my wrist, but realised quickly that I could hold both her wrists in one of my hands while being free to work on the button with the other.

I don’t know whether she let me do it because she didn’t want her friend to know what was happening, or because she didn’t mind, but either way I managed to hold her hands up in front of her chest one handed while I got her button undone, the zip pulled down and her jeans loosened over her hips. Then I paused. I had a shirt and briefs on, and I wanted to test her. With one hand I held her left hand against her chest; with the other hand I dragged her right hand down so it rested against my fabric covered cock. The stereo clicked off, and I heard Dai get up and put another album on. Bloody REO Speedwagon. All the same, I wasn’t moving to change the music. I was moving my hand in slow motion, forcing her fingers open so they fitted round the bulge of my cock, and she was quiet, quiescent as I used her fear against her, challenging her to say something and knowing that she was embarrassed and wouldn’t. Once I had her held there, fingers wrapped round my cock, I kissed her again. I did that thing guys learn to do with a sense of amazement, İstanbul Escort making my cock twitch in her hand. She didn’t pull away, and she moved her fingers to adjust her grip as my cock twitched. All the time I was working out what to do next. Once her fingers felt totally comfortable round my cock, like she’d accepted what had happened it was obvious. Turn her onto her back, with her wrists trapped under her, and pull her jeans and pants down. It took two goes, because she tried to stop me the first time, in a wordless, silent way that was no challenge at all. Once her jeans were round her thighs she struggled to get her hands free, then became more subdued as I made her hold my cock again. Having her hands free wasn’t such a good option she seemed to decide. Don’t ask how I knew, but I knew enough to slow down a little, to not pressure her straight away. So I let her get used to the feel of my cock, and kissed her, and let her other hand rest by her side while I stroked her breasts and moved her bra out of the way. It seemed like a long pause, but it was only one track of the album, and then she started to wriggle as if the jeans and pants round her thighs were uncomfortable. I murmured ‘Let’s get these out of the way’ as if I was doing her a favour, but not waiting for permission before forcing the jeans down to her ankles then off one leg entirely. She co-operated, but I couldn’t be sure if it was because she wanted what came next or hadn’t considered it. Either way, it didn’t take much of my weight to get her thighs apart; she was pinned down, so that I could use my hand to hold her hands as I pushed my pants out of the way so she was holding my naked cock. I don’t know if she knew what was going on, but her mate did. She was going for a second time round with Dai, and making plenty of noise with it. Skinny was mortified.
‘I can’t do it if I sound like that – it’s horrible.’
I put my hand on her face.
‘I’ll cover your mouth, gently’, and kissed her forehead as if I was proposing a kindly gesture. She gave in, and let me get my cock closer to her pussy by pushing her thighs apart with my knees. It worked; she even raised her knees once she realised it might be more comfortable that way. It didn’t make much difference to getting my cock into her though; she was still tight, and I had to push hard to even get my cock past her outer lips. Once it was there it felt like I couldn’t get any further inside her without doing myself an injury. So I waited, and paused. I took my hand off her mouth and kissed her, and kept kissing her until her tongue moved against mine. Then I put my hand back over her mouth and pushed again. She wriggled, and squirmed, but my cock went deeper inside her and provoked a stiffening of her back that wasn’t all about resistance. The plump one was having a noisy orgasm as I got balls deep in her mate, holding her down and hoping I didn’t come too soon, even as the feeling of my balls bouncing against her arse made me breathless. As she settled to the presence of my cock inside her I took my hand off her mouth, and kissed her again. There was no hesitation this time; her tongue was actively seeking mine out.
I decided it was time to move the thing on. I pulled one of her legs up, then the other, then started to move my cock in and out of her. She made a noise like a kitten that’s been stood on by its mum, but didn’t give any sign she wanted me to stop. So I got my arms under her knees, bending her thighs back towards her chest, conscious of how easy she was to move around, of the way her thighs were the size of my forearms, the way I could move and manipulate her. Her pussy felt a little wetter, let me move inside her some more, let me think less about forcing my cock in and more about trying Escort İstanbul to make her react. And the noises, the little signals that she was reacting, came more frequently. The plump one paused in her necking with Dai to urge her on; ‘Go for it Karen’.
She didn’t go for it; she just didn’t stop it happening either, and when she came, with a deep, rasping gasp, I got the impression it was more of a surprise to her than it was to me. I paused while she caught her breath, and because she was complaining about sore thighs, I slipped my cock out and turned her over. She muttered something about not wanting to get pregnant. I told her there was an answer to that. I don’t think she realised what I meant until I got my cock head inside her arse. She tried to get away, to wriggle, to move under me. I put one hand on the back of her neck, another under her, then pressed my cock deeper inside her. She cried out, a wailing noise, but she also responded when I started to rub my index finger against her clit. Even as she started to make sobbing, teary, throaty noises, she moved to the stimulus of my finger on her clit. I leant forward and put my mouth next to her ear.
‘I don’t care if you cry – every time I touch your clit you react like a slut. So put up with it.’
And to be fair, she did. She let me move her upwards, let me stroke her clit till she started to pant, and let me ride her. She came before I came in her arse, and then she sank away from me, curling herself up in a ball. I lay behind her, and wrapped my arms around her
‘You liked it. Get used to it.’

Through the night she slept fitfully. She moved from curling herself round me to turning her back on me. I didn’t make it easy on her. Twice, when she curled up with her back to me, I got hard and fucked her. The second time, my third orgasm of the night, I chose to fuck her arse as well, holding her hand in her mouth as she bit down on her knuckles.

When morning came, and there was daylight flooding in through the ill fitting curtains, she seemed shocked by all that had gone on before. I was confused by it too. So much sex, and she’d come repeatedly, but her face was stained with tears and she didn’t want to look me in the eye. The plump one, who seemed happy with her night, wrapped herself in Dai’s combat jacket and headed for the shower after asking where the towels were. (In the airing cupboard next to the bathroom). The more Karen sulked, the more aroused I got again. And she didn’t struggle when I brought the head of my cock back to her arse. She flinched as I penetrated her, but there was no struggling. Dai was watching our bodies moving under the duvet, and Karen buried her head under a pillow. I got annoyed by her behaviour, and started a conversation about her with Dai.
‘Dunno how your evening was mun, but this is my fourth go, three of ‘em up her arse.’
He laughed.
‘Don’t believe you son. Bet you haven’t buggered her really.’ We both knew what the other was thinking. I pulled the duvet off us, and pulled the pillow away from her head so he could see all of her. Then I got my arm under her thigh and spread her legs so he could clearly see where my cock was. She called me a bastard, but her cunt was wet to my touch, and she twitched when I flicked her clit. The shower was still running in the bathroom, and I told Dai to come and join in. He stood by the side of the bed, and while I started to pick up the pace he ran his cock over her lips. At first she wouldn’t open her mouth, but she did, eventually, and the plump one walked in to find the two of us taking her mate at either end. Dai came in her mouth, and I managed a thin dribble of cum up her arse before she fled to the shower.

We saw them to the station, and I kissed her goodbye at the ticket barrier. She kissed me back, too, her tongue seeking mine out. She wrote, too, for three months, telling me about life in a small village, but never once mentioning sex, then the letters stopped. I didn’t miss them.

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