A Game of Consequences

Fresh and Tasty

Edinburgh was amazing. The sun shone, there were street entertainers everywhere, and the shows were often spectacular. We saw Cheek By Jowl and Hull Truck perform Shakespeare and took in several music and comedy shows, including one by a then-unknown Fry and Laurie, and the hilarious Linda Smith (sharing a bill with Henry Normal), who died tragically young. We saw Jack Dee, Mark Steel, and Julian Clary, before any of them were famous, though Paul Merton's show was cancelled because he'd broken his leg, and Spike Milligan's was already sold out.

Jill was a great guide, taking us to many popular and sometimes more obscure places. Holyroodhouse Palace was very impressive, including the spot where David Rizzio, Mary Queen of Scots' lover, was murdered by Darnley and his gang. (The bloodstains are still, allegedly, on the floor.) Jill and Phoebe rarely seemed to stop talking to each other about history, politics, food and drink, the weather - just about anything, and I could hardly get a word in. But the fact that the two most significant women in my life over the last year clearly got on so well was a joy to me.

We usually arrived back at Jill's quite late, having taken in several shows, and Colin was either already in bed or working in his office, with Ella asleep beside his desk. Occasionally, we'd see him over breakfast - I think we'd been there two days before we had a chance to be introduced - but our paths rarely crossed, and when they did, he didn't seem inclined to engage. And I noticed that Jill told him we werebothher 'ex pupils', implying that we'd been boyfriend and girlfriend for longer than we had, and perhaps deflecting any potentially awkward questions about Ella's parentage.

At the end of the week, we headed back to Waverley Station, and had a very affectionate farewell from Jill - extended hugs and kisses all round - and an offer from Phoebe for her to call any time if she wanted to come down and visit us. Ella cried when we got on the train. I doubt that a four-month-old baby understands the concept of people going away, but it seemed somehow poignant.

On the train back to Oxford, Phoebe wanked me off. We'd had - for us - very little sex while at Jill's. The entertainment was so full-on that most nights we'd fall into bed, exhausted but happy, close to midnight, and sleep. On just two occasions, Phoebe and I had managed a quick and relatively cursory fuck, quietly so as not to wake Jill, who had to get up at all hours to feed Ella. So Phoebe - being Phoebe - decided to make up for this with some surreptitious masturbation in a public place. We had table seats with nobody opposite, and I pretended to read while she unzipped me, pulled my cock out, and gently worked her hand up and down until I was forced to extract a tissue from my pocket and catch the sticky product, keeping my mouth clamped shut to avoid any unconscious moaning.

And then my girlfriend guided my hand under her skirt with just a teasing sideways glance at me. Of course, she wasn't wearing panties, and of course, she was wet, so it was my duty to return the compliment. As I carefully slid my finger back and forth in that moist furrow, she feigned interest in her book, open on the table in front of her between her elbows, holding her head in her hands. I heard the occasional whimper, but (for Phoebe) this was a level of quietness and control with which I was unfamiliar. Her legs started jerking around under the table as she approached and then reached her climax. I waited a few moments before passing her the pack of tissues.

And once back in the flat, we made up for a week of relative abstinence. The door had barely closed behind us and our bags dumped in the hallway before Phoebe dashed into the bedroom, threw off her t-shirt and short skirt, and jumped onto the bed. She lay down, pushed a pillow under her lower back and spread her legs wide.

"Supper's ready!" she announced.

I threw off my clothes and dived between her legs.

"No! The other way round. I want to eat too!"

So I 'did a one-eighty', as they say these days, and straddled her face, lowering my semi-erect cock into her open mouth, before dipping my tongue into the sticky cleft between her plump pussy lips.

Sixty-nine has its advantages and disadvantages. The girl's tongue is the wrong side of the guy's cock-head, so it can't easily stimulate the frenulum, but this is less of a problem if the girl has a welcoming and elastic throat, as Phoebe had trained hers to be. It's harder for the guy to rim the girl, but it's much easier to finger-fuck her in either or both holes while sucking and licking her clit. Which is exactly what I did.

The extra advantage/disadvantage for me was that, with my cock embedded deep in her mouth and frequently in her throat, Phoebe's moans and cries were inaudible. This was good for not alerting the neighbours and for preventing me from being over-stimulated by the stream of filth that normally escaped her mouth during sex. It's almost impossible to retain control when the girl you're fucking keeps moaning things like, "Yes! Stick your big cock right up my fucking cunt! Harder! Right up me!" in an accent that made her sound like a debutante.

But this time, there were just muffled grunts and moans as I went to work in that wide-open valley. There was such a flood of pussy juice that, suitably lubricated, one finger slid easily up her tight little arsehole. Meanwhile, I insinuated another digit into her seemingly equally tight little cunt. These days, some sex advice online says to use two fingers to stimulate a G-spot, but with a 19-year-old Phoebe, one was as much as I could ever manage. Her tightness was remarkable.

And so was her orgasmic ability. She came twice before her throat forced me to unload my first torrent of sperm down her oesophagus. Even then, after a drink and a cuddle, she was reaching for my cock less than thirty minutes later, and fifteen minutes after that, I was cradled between her skinny thighs as she wriggled beneath me and goaded me with expressions like, "Fuck my slutty cunt!" And I still managed to make her come again before my second load went deep into the 'slutty cunt' she'd been begging me to fuck. They say practice makes perfect.

The remainder of the summer Vac went by with little incident. My parents came to stay and were impressed by the apartment. "You've done all right for yourself," my dad remarked when Phoebe and Mum were in the kitchen, finishing clearing the last of dinner into the dishwasher, a luxury my parents didn't have.

"Yeah, Phoebe is pretty amazing," I replied.

"She certainly seems to have a bit of money behind her."

"Dad, what are you saying?"

"Just that you've done alright, shacking up with a rich girl."

"If you're ready, you can go home now, Dad. I'm with Phoebe because we love each other. Yes, her dad has money, but that has fuck all to do with anything." Maybe I was a little oversensitive, but I didn't like the direction this was going.

Dad looked a bit put out. "I didn't mean anything by it," he replied. "I'm just a bit concerned that her daddy's money might be turning your head."

"Look. Yes, we're in an apartment that's in Phoebe's name, but she and I are together because we want to be. If you say anything about money to her, I will be very annoyed indeed. Like it or not, she'll probably be your daughter-in-law in a couple of years, and if you show any animosity toward her, it'll be your loss. So I suggest you make more of an effort to get to know her and stop being so sniffy about the fact that her dad spoils her."

During that weekend, we took my parents around Oxford, including all our favourite spots, but I was constantly on the lookout for Dad saying something inappropriate. I hadn't previously picked up on his apparent resentment of Phoebe's privileged background, but it certainly soured the visit for me.

In September, Phoebe and I helped at Fresher's Week, welcoming the new arrivals, trying to recruit them into the Rowing Club, the Debating Society and the Dance Group.

"I thought that redhead was mentally undressing you," Phoebe said as we helped pack up the stalls at the end of the day. "Bet she fucks like a rabbit. I wouldn't mind getting between her legs."

"Well, that rather gangly bloke with the long black hair seemed very smitten with you."

"I thought he was cute. Should we invite those two back for a foursome?"

I assumed she was joking. "You'd wear them both out. They'd be burned-out husks by the morning."

She gave me a smug smile. "Yes, but it'd be fun doing it, don't you think?"

"Are you serious?" I couldn't tell whether she was just winding me up or whether she genuinely wanted to try to seduce those innocent little freshers.

"Well, we could always go to the bar and see whether they or any of the other new talent might be interested in being deflowered and corrupted."

I looked at her quizzically. Again, I got that inscrutable smile in return.

'Oh well,' I thought, 'Why not?'

In the bar, it was pretty obvious who was on the pull and who felt out of it. The redhead wasn't in evidence, but the cute-faced, lanky guy with the long, dark hair was sitting at a table looking a bit lost. Phoebe homed in like a heat-seeking rocket.

I stood back, scanning the room for likely females. There were several I recognised from my own year group, plus a few final year and postgrad students, but few freshers worth bothering with, and those that were seemed to be surrounded by predatory blokes; totally unlike me, you understand. It felt like a shark pool, the hungry beasts circling, looking for prey.

I went to the bar and bought a pint of Old Hooky, turned, and saw her; the redhead from earlier, in the doorway. Around five-four, cute, freckled face, short red hair, slim figure with (seemingly) nice tits, in a little, clingy dress that accentuated her assets. She looked understandably nervous, as I guess most first-year students feel when entering an establishment where everyone seems to know everyone else, while you're a newcomer and outsider. It's a little like your first day at 'big school', but possibly worse because you feel you should seem like a grown-up and are desperate to appear cool. I put my beer back on the bar and headed straight for her, arriving just before another predatory male I'd noticed lurking.

I applied my friendliest smile. "Hi! Tamsin, isn't it? My girlfriend and I were trying to persuade you to join the debating society earlier. Welcome to Oxford. Can I buy you a drink?"

I took the smile she returned to be one of relief that she'd found someone non-threatening to talk to, a guy who already had a girlfriend and was just being friendly. I was aware of the guy behind me trying to think of a way to barge in, so I carefully steered Tamsin to the other side of me and over to the bar, where I ordered her the Diet Coke she requested and retrieved my beer.

"How are you finding it so far? Have they given you a decent room?"

"It's not too bad, I suppose. A bit dingy but not too far from the main hall. And the bar!" She giggled, as if the desire to access a place where alcohol was sold branded her as 'naughty'. I looked at her innocent-looking face and wondered what it would take to actually make her naughty.

"I think Phoebe's talking with another fresher over there. Shall we join them?" I asked, and I thought her expression fell a little. Maybe my girlfriend had been right, and Tamsin really did fancy me and was disappointed that I was clearly 'attached'. Perhaps she found Phoebe's full-on manner a little intimidating. Or maybe she felt that another fresher would divide our attention. But then she smiled again, and we set off across the crowded room to join the couple at the table in the corner.

"Oh, hi, Tamsin. Good to see you again," Phoebe said as we arrived at the table. "Tamsin, Richard, this is Ed. He's studying Materials Science. Ed, this is my boyfriend Richard and Tamsin, who's studying...?"

"Modern languages."

"Excellent. Where are you from, Tamsin?"

"Er, Hampshire. Winchester."

"Nice. Ed's from Newcastle."

"Gateshead, actually," he replied in a strong North-Eastern accent.

"Great. Always good to have a cultural and geographic mix. Well, welcome to Oxford, both of you. How are you finding it?"

An hour later, Ed and Tamsin had relaxed noticeably as they talked about what they wanted to do at Oxford, and we added helpful ideas and tips about college life. The bar was getting increasingly noisy, so I was preparing to suggest we move elsewhere. Then Tamsin said she needed to go to the loo, and Phoebe said she'd go along with her. (If two men went to the toilets together, people would be a bit surprised, but women going together is considered totally normal.) But this was the cue Phoebe and I had arranged.

"Do you like Phoebe?" I asked Ed.

"Yeah, she's lively. Talks a lot."

I laughed. "Yes, she does. But do you fancy her? She seems to think you do?"

"I - well, she's, er, very, er, attractive," he stammered, looking alarmed at the odd question. "But - but she's your girlfriend..."

I smiled back. "Relax, Ed, this isn't intended to catch you out. Phoebe and I have what you might call aninterestingrelationship. We mostly fuck each other, but occasionally we've invited people we're attracted to into our bed; or at least, Phoebe has. She has a very high libido and is quite adventurous. She clearly fancies you, so would you like to fuck her?"

Ed's expression was priceless. "You - you're offering your girlfriend - to - tome?" His tone showed incredulity.

"Just for one night, because she wants to fuck you, and I like to give her what she wants. And because I expect - indeed, I hope - she's currently making a similar offer to Tamsin about me. Ever been in a foursome before?"

"N - no..." he stammered, wide-eyed.

"Ed, are you by any chance a virgin?"

"I - er, no, no, I just..."

"Ed, it's OK if you are. Phoebe would be the ideal girl to initiate you, though you'll need some stamina. So, would you like to fuck my girlfriend?"

He sat for a moment, open-mouthed. Then he said, "Of course I would. Who wouldn't? She's very sexy." There was a shy smile on his face.

"Oh, some guys think she's too skinny, and she's not conventionally pretty. But she does things in bed - and in other places - that still blow my mind."

"No, I think she's - dead sexy, like. But is this for real? It's not some kind of wind-up you play on freshers, is it?"

"I promise you it's not. And before the girls come back, I need to go to the bog."

After finishing my Old Hooky, I'd asked the girl behind the bar to refill my glass with Diet Coke. The colour was the same, so it looked like I was drinking beer, but instead of the soporific effects of the hops, the Coke gave me a sizeable blast of caffeine. Even at nineteen, it's difficult to maintain an erection and fuck multiple times after drinking several pints of hop-laden ale. But my bladder was still pretty full, and there was another reason to visit the gents: the condom machine. I bought two packs, and then, just in case, a third. I assumed Ed wasn't equipped, and that, despite his virginity, Phoebe wouldn't want Ed inside her without a jacket. And as I was hoping to similarly invade sweet little Tamsin, I was sure she wouldn't trust me without rubber.

I returned shortly after the girls had come back to the table. Phoebe saw me, smiled, and nodded. Tamsin was blushing, but looking excited, as was I. The prospect of getting between the thighs of this redhead cutie was tantalising, and the fact that this was all with not only the permission but the active connivance of my girlfriend made it even more thrilling.

The walk back to the flat took around 10 minutes. The girls went ahead, with Ed and me following. I kept looking at how the girls' short skirts swung around the tops of their thighs. I couldn't vouch for Ed, but I was sporting an uncomfortable hard-on.

"What I don't understand," Ed said softly, "Is why Phoebe would be interested in me. She must be able to tell I'm not experienced, like, and - and I'd put you in a bracket above me in the attractiveness stakes, Richard. Don't get me wrong; I'm flattered and totally up for this, but she's settin' herself up for a bit of a disappointment."

I laughed. "Look, Ed, I'm sure Phoebe knows what she's doing. She'll probably wear all three of us out by the morning. You weren't planning on sleeping tonight, were you? And I think she sees you as a challenge. Both you and Tamsin look pretty innocent to our eyes, and I expect that Phoebe's planning to corrupt you both. Don't question it; just enjoy it. I promise it'll be fun, if maybe a little exhausting."

"So does - does Phoebe like girls as well?"

"Oh yes. She had her first sex with a girl before she lost her virginity."

"But..." He looked nervous. "But you're not - not..."

I grinned. "Bisexual? Lord, no. I'm only interested in girls. I guess that makes me a lesbian."

Ed and Tamsin were blown away by the apartment.

"Haway, man, this is, like, palatial compared to the place I have to put up with. I mean, the college is historic and all that, but I'm in a broom cupboard compared to this place! Do second years all get something similar?"

"Just call it influence," I replied, not wanting to tell him that the best way to get a smart apartment was to shack up with a property developer's daughter.

Phoebe ushered Tamsin into the bathroom. I took Ed into the guest bedroom and told him to undress while I did the same. When I heard some giggling in the hall, I checked through the slightly open bedroom door to see two naked and very attractive young women carrying their clothes back toward the main bedroom that Phoebe and I used. Once they'd gone, I slipped into the bathroom and cleaned up, returning soon after to find a rather skinny - but, I guess in Phoebe's eyes, cute - Ed, naked and seemingly embarrassed. I noticed - well, you would, wouldn't you? - that he was both uncut and somewhat bigger than me. But, I mean, what the fuck?

"Right, Ed, time for ablutions. A, B, C - arse, balls, cock, though preferably in reverse order. And don't forget under your foreskin. You need to be clean before a girl gets her laughing gear around your todger."

"Sorry?"

"Phoebe might want to give you a blowjob. She definitely won't if there are some nasty odours. Clean up, now."

Once he'd emerged from the bathroom, I led him into the bedroom.

Phoebe always looks sexy to me. Sure, she's skinny and flat-chested, but the bare pussy, the long legs and the 'naughty' expression turn me on every time. Beside her, Tamsin looked small and curvy. That isn't to say she was fat - far from it - but she had a more distinctive feminine shape. Her hips had more of a flare to them, and her breasts, though not large - I'd estimate a 34C, vs Phoebe's 32AA - were very nicely shaped and firm. I could see from the neatly-trimmed bush at the junction of her slim but shapely thighs that she was a natural redhead.

But the thing that got me hard pretty instantly was her face. Not only was she very pretty, but the look of shy innocence there demanded to be changed into one of orgasmic overload. The late Michael Hutchence apparently said that his favourite pastime was 'corrupting Kylie'. At the time, Ms Minogue looked cute and sweet, and the thought of Michael perhaps sliding his cock between Kylie's trim buttocks for her first experience of sodomy had coloured some of my younger wet dreams. (I remember someone saying that the lyrics of one of her hit songs sounded like 'How does it feel in my arse?', and not 'arms'). And frankly, is there a guy alive who doesn't get excited at the prospect of taking a sweet, innocent girl and making her act sluttily and come explosively through some seriously dirty sex? Well, that's where my head - and by inference, my swelling cock - were at that moment.