1st Times: Memories of College Ex

After Florence and I came back to London from Hong Kong in late August, it was a hectic two weeks to find a suitable flat for the two of us, followed by non-stop packing and moving. But finally, we have a home in a decent neighbourhood in London, just south of the River Thames, in time for our 2nd year of University life.

Since then, we've been living together for around 8 weeks, and I have found that sharing a home with your girlfriend brings a lot of positives, but also some negatives.

The bad: Our disagreements became more frequent, or should I say Florence had more chances to discover that the way I left my worn socks on the floor, put books on the bed, left open cartons of corns in the fridge, and many other habits, were all not to her liking. All of these were usually resolved by my adapting to her preferences and wishes.

The goods outweigh the bad though (or I told myself that): It has been sweet to go shopping together for all the decorations (again, usually decided by Florence's aesthetic) and daily groceries, as well as cooking together.

But most of all, having the whole flat to just the two of us, together with Florence's decision back in August to begin getting the contraception jabs, means we have had a lot more spontaneous sex, everywhere in the flat: on the couch or on the carpet in the living room, in the kitchen, in the corridor, by the window, but none more so than in the shower.

Yet another new element of our relationship was one that made me both excited and worried sometimes. And it was carried over from what we did in Hong Kong during the summer break.

It started one early evening when we first settled in our new flat, we both had quite a lot of booze after some friends visited us earlier. We were cuddling on the sofa, random music videos playing on the TV.

Florence told me she has been thinking a lot about those times when we almost got caught in the cinema and in the car park. "But even more so, when we actually got naked and had sex in the park, open-air, being watched by that other couple..." she said, speaking softly towards my neck, as we lay facing each other, her arms surrounding my waist.

"...and when we were actually caught by that park staff... his eyes on my body, your fingers inside me.... I have never came like that before." said Florence, her voice getting smaller and smaller, as if she was ashamed of how her body reacted, and how her heart felt.

To be honest, I also felt excited when I thought about those events. It was bloody sexy, and we didn't get into any real trouble after all. But this is London, not Hong Kong. "Do you think... You want to try again? To experience those... thrills?" I asked, uncertain if I should have.

She lifted her slender face to look into my eyes then. Her dark brown eyes were sparkling with excitement when she said, "Yes... Would you be willing to do that with me?"

"I would always try to fulfil your wish, my princess," I said, hoping to sound theatrical and confident.

And so it was, 20 minutes later, Florence and I were in the Tube, London's ancient underground mass transit trains. We went to the last carriage. "So that we'd spend the longest time in view of the people still on the platform, when the train started moving," Florence explained. This was obviously something she had imagined and rehearsed in her head before. She even insisted on us going to this particular District Line station first.

We were lucky that there was only one elderly lady at the other end of our carriage, as I was not sure I would want to go through with it if there were more people, especially males, in there with us.

When the announcer said through the speakers that the train doors were closing, Florence was already taking deep breaths, like a boxer about to climb on stage. She was in position, standing in front of the train doors, facing the platform, with me standing behind her, holding her waist. She was wearing just a dark, short t-shirt, no bra, and pretty short sports pants that were untied, hanging just below her slender 23-inch waist. Our lips met, warm and unhurried.

The moment the train door shut, I pulled up her t-shirt with one hand, exposing her tits to the platform, while my other hand slid smoothly inside her hot pants, straight at her pussy.

As we felt the train begin to move and accelerate, we stopped the kiss and watched the platform slowly slide away. At first, there were only one or two commuters on the platform waiting for their specific train. But as our carriage moved nearer the middle, most popular part of the platform, more and more commuters were there, and a lot of them were shocked to see us in our state.

Granted, it was not peak hours, being a Monday night and at a lesser-used station. But there must have been 30 if not 40 commuters, men and women, who saw Florence's beautiful, perky breasts undulate freely with the train's movement, and my hand inside her pants hard at work, through the large pane of glass on the door.

Some of those commuters were frowning in disgust, while some others were sniggering; it was hard to tell as the train moved ever faster. But from the reflection of the door's glass I could see that Florence was smiling like she was enchanted, and her smile was only intermittently disrupted when she had to groan, as I caressed the soft lips between her legs.

Soon, the platform disappeared from our view, but Florence cooed into my ear, "Keep going..." As one of her hands rose to massage her breasts, while her other hand kept hold of the stanchion. The clattering of wheels echoed through the tunnel as the train sped by.

Before long, the dark tunnel wall in front of us suddenly disappeared, replaced by the sight of another underground train thundering down the track, parallel to ours, in the same direction and at a similar speed. The surprised faces of the passengers in the other train were no more than 2 meters from us. I was roused by this change and before I knew it, my hand that was not massaging Florence's vagina was pushing down her shorts and her underpants, showing off her crotch. The jaw-dropped looks of some older passengers in the other train were priceless. Unlike the people on the platform, these passengers were more or less locked in place relative to us.

My finger brushed Florence's sensitive clit harder, drawing a cry from her, as she pushed her tits up and pinched her nipple for our audience. It was probably just 6 or 7 seconds before the other train disappeared from our view, but it felt far, far longer.

I was going to push a finger inside Florence's quickly moistening love hole, but the train began to slow, and we only just had time to pull down her t-shirt, pull up her pants and panties before the train door opened to two very tired-looking middle-aged office workers, a man and a woman. Florence dragged me to lean with her on the side panel of the seats, to make way for the two passengers, but also to continue our make-out.

Seconds later, the train door began to close again, and we returned to our original position in front of the train door. The newly seated male passenger was sitting just 5 feet from us and could see us with no obstruction, but we were both too caught up in the flow to worry now. The tip of my middle finger was already at Florence's wet hole when the train started moving.

This time, even more passengers were on the platform as the sight of Florence's naked tits and me fingering her flashed before them. My one hand was enjoying the softness of her 32 C-cup breasts, while my other was beginning a small pumping motion inside her panties.

As I planted fleeting kisses on Florence's neck, I saw glimpses of the shocked passengers on the platform, the smirking look of the tired man in our carriage, and Florence's eyes open and closed momentarily, her face lifted up. She groaned and groaned, but the train was too noisy for me to hear.

My finger was pumping deeper and faster into her pussy when I felt the train slowing down again. Facing the decision of what to do when the doors open next, I quickly checked which stop would be next, and decided we needed to get off. It was an above-ground station I knew well...

Having barely pulled Florence's clothing in place, we alighted, and the middle-aged passenger's eyes followed us as long as he could. When the train started pulling away, I had already led Florence into an accessible toilet on the platform. As soon as we locked the door, we picked up from where we stopped. We snogged as I resumed playing with her wet pussy with my fingers, while Florence unbuckled my belt. I sucked in my tummy so she could push my jeans and boxer shorts down as quickly as possible.

And so we started fucking in the toilet, my hard rod punching into Florence's narrow passage. She cried out loudly in satisfaction until I put a juice-coated hand on her mouth. It was clear how our daring exposure just now had built up the sexual joy in her, how the commuters' eyes and maybe even their disapproving expressions had taken Florence near the peak of her pleasure. She orgasmed hard within a few minutes, and I followed suit soon after, coating her inside with my white sticky sauce.

From that night onwards, it became a pattern for us. Almost every week, we would have at least one of these daring adventures that often resulted in great sex at the end.

But, ALWAYS only after we've gotten quite tipsy, would we have the nerves to go ahead. I had even gotten into occasionally carrying a small flask of whiskey in my pocket, to give us a bit of a push if needed. Although even back then, I had wondered, was the alcohol only really needed for me, but not Florence?

She would go on these outings wearing clothes that could be easily taken off, or pulled up, or pushed aside, with no underwear inside half the time.

We would go to a park, and Florence would wear a long wrap dress that was normally not her style, just so she could loosen the tie and 'accidentally' show off her nakedness underneath to motorists driving by the park, and so that my hands could roam her body freely when she sat astride me in the glade.

She would wear a totally sheer shirt or skirt to some avant-garde, subculture wave night in the arty East End of London, and we would make out just like how we had during that first night we met, letting our drunken lust guide our bodies.

She would give me blowjobs in the changing room of big boutiques, I would find a rare corner without CCTV in a public library to pleasure her with my hand, and we would be hiking in some national park's trails only to end up having a quickie in the great outdoors, knowing that another hiker may just be around the corner.

Sometimes we would plan ahead with a clear goal, what to do when we get where. But sometimes, like during hiking, we would just let the moment and the mood lead our actions. Although when I was sober enough, I would always try to make sure Florence wouldn't be in actual potential danger from other men. Something she often seemed to disregard.

Maybe it was our luck thus far, even though some men had made catcalls or yelled lewd remarks at us when they had a glimpse of Florence's ass or tits, none of these strangers had done anything to make us feel threatened. Yet it was always in the back of my mind that London was never as safe a place as Hong Kong, that I needed to be careful and protect Florence from any harm. Then again, I guess it was also the progressive, open-minded vibe of London that made Florence more daring in her behaviour.

And, seems like what Florence may be interested in exploring was not limited to exhibitionism, either.

Once on our bed just before we fell asleep, Florence brought up a topic: an unnamed 'friend' of hers has been trying anal sex with her boyfriend. (I never learnt which friend exactly, but it has got to be Jan.) But for Florence, it just seemed too painful, and maybe a bit unhygienic? 'You wouldn't want to put your dick in my ass, would you?' She asked, trying to dress up a question as a joke.

'Well, you only live once... May as well try it, if you don't try it, you would never know if you like it, right?' I replied, trying to hide my enthusiasm deep down.

'Maybe I would let you try it on me... if you let me try it on you first?' Said Florence cheekily.

I just chuckled, and we moved on.

Then, one night in early November, a normal night out unexpectedly turned into one of our most memorable adventures.

We were at an EDM (Electronic Dance Music) event in one of the big parks near our home, dancing among other young people. It was an abnormally warm day, and Florence was wearing a tight cotton mini skirt and a purple sheer shirt, no bra, paired with a soft and thin buttoned-up leather vest.

We went there with Jeff and her new girlfriend to begin with, so it was not supposed to be one of our 'daring' outings. We had never exposed Florence, or tried anything too risque in front of people we actually knew. Just one of our unspoken rules.

The DJs that night were fantastic, and the booze wasn't as expensive as at some other events, so inevitably we all had a lot to drink. Turned out it was too much for Jeff's girlfriend, so they departed before she could puke some more.

With our friends gone and our spirits high, Florence unbuttoned her outer vest and continued to dance and spun in the middle of the crowd, her chest-length, straight hair streaming behind her in rippling waves. Part of her breasts very visible under the sheer shirt whenever she twisted her torso and her vest flung open.

Both of us got a kick out of the thrill of other men watching her. When the whole crowd slowed down for one of the more down-tempo tunes, I hugged Florence from behind. We snogged, and I just could not help but play with her tits while humping her ass, causing some woman nearby to throw us a 'get a room!', but we didn't care.

A while later, we decided it's time and began walking back home. But we were more intoxicated than we had been for a long time, and what would normally be a 10-minute walk was taking much longer, as Florence's feet wobbled beneath her, and I was not faring a lot better. Barely able to move in a straight line, we swayed drunkenly along the way until we were just 2 blocks from our home, Florence stopped by a dark alley.

Much like that alley near her Hong Kong home where we made out, this was dimly lit but not filthy, tidy enough except for a few loose bricks on the ground. There were some large rubbish bins, but way ahead in the further, darker end of the alley.

We didn't say anything. It just felt natural when Florence led me into this side street and we let our instinct, our bodies' needs, take over.

About 10 steps into the alley from the light of the pedestrian street, I kissed Florence at the same time as I peeled off her leather vest to drop it on the ground, while she pulled her skirt up to her waist, showing off a tiny black lace thong. Florence's tongue passionately tangled with mine as my hands caressed her ample boobs over the barely-there sheer shirt, feeling her nipples erect in the evening chill even though it was a warm night.

Moments later, Florence pushed me away with a naughty smile on her red lips, before she turned around to face the wall, spreading her legs apart. She placed one hand on the wall, inclining forward, while her other hand reached back to pull her lace thong to the side.

My manhood had been restless for ages and needed no further invitation. I was unbuttoning my cargo pants as quickly as I could when suddenly, someone rushed toward me from the darker end of the alley, and before I could react, I was shoved hard to the ground.

My head hit the concrete, it hurts like hell, my vision went dark for perhaps a couple of seconds, but it took me longer to get up to my hands and knees, though my senses were still fuzzy. Florence was screaming and stepping towards me to help, but my assailant bear-hugged her from behind. Holding my throbbing head with one hand, I saw that it was a scruffy-looking man, wearing dirty, baggy clothing and perhaps similar to my 5"11 in height. He must have been behind those large rubbish bins further into the alley, and was obscured from our sight before.

Florence screamed for help again, the man said something but slurred - he seemed drunk. His one hand started groping her breasts from behind. Florence struggled and kept slapping his hands, asking him to let her go. The man slurred something again as he lifted Florence off the ground momentarily with his hug, turned her away from me.

I tried to get up, but my legs failed me and I fell back to my ass. The man had moved Florence towards the wall, and his back was blocking my view of her. I was further alarmed when I saw the man push down his dirty sweat pants with one hand, while his other arm continued to trap Florence.

She kept thrashing, yelling and hitting the man's body with her free hand but his sweat pants were already down to his thigh the next moment, showing a bit of his bare ass. He then tried to grab hold of Florence's free hand, pressing himself closer to her from behind, when I finally felt the control and strength back in my body.

I didn't think and just grabbed whatever solid object that was reachable at that moment, which happened to be one of those loose bricks I spotted earlier on the ground. I rushed forward and smashed the brick on the upper back of the assailant as hard as I possibly could.

The man cried out in pain, immediately loosening his constraint of Florence, his hand reaching for where I had hit him. My hand was in some pain from the impact too, but as Florence part-ran part-stumbled to cower behind me, the man turned unsteadily, his hands reaching towards me, I slammed the brick down on his hand. That drew another cry of pain from the man and forced him back.

'Go! We gotta go!' I yelled, pulling Florence with one hand, the brick still in my other. Keeping my eyes on our drunken attacker who was holding his hand in pain, we walked backwards towards the well-lit street, and eventually turned and began to run, as much as two drunk people can, to our building, my hand gripping Florence's arm tight the whole way. When we finally closed the building's door shut behind us, we hugged each other tight in relief in the empty lobby, huffing and puffing. Florence was trembling.

'Are you OK? Were you hurt?' I asked worriedly.

Instead of answering me, Florence fished the tiny flask of whiskey from my cargo pants' pocket and took a big gulp from it before looking into my eyes.

'It was fucking scary,' she said in a whisper, then gave me a quick but forceful kiss, and grinned.

I was puzzled by Florence's reaction, but at least she seemed OK. 'Let's go home.' I said, and led her to the lift. On the way up to our second floor, I held her hand tight, while she downed the little bit of whiskey left in the flask, her nipples under the sheer shirt vaguely reflected in the frosted mirror door of the lift.

Standing in front of our flat's door, my mind still felt fuzzy from the booze, or from how my head hit the pavement, I did not know. It took me a while to find my keys and unlock it, but when I finally latched the door open with the magnet door stop, something was thrown to the ground next to my feet. It was Florence's mini skirt and top.

'What the fuck...' I muttered as I turned to look back from inside our flat's doorway, and was shocked to see that a largely naked Florence, wearing nothing but her short boots and tiny thong, was walking towards the common corridor's floor-length window, the one that faces the inner courtyard of our building, where the residents usually go to smoke.

'Shit...' I muttered, and chased after Florence, leaving our flat door open.

The window was about 5 meters from our flat door. When I reached Florence, I grabbed her elbow and urged gently, 'Come on, let's go inside....' But Florence ignored me, her hands on the window, asked dreamily, 'Do you think there is anyone down there?' Her eyes searching the view outside the window.