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Savage Lesson

Dabbling with a no good girl leads to humiliation.
SAVAGE LESSON

It is one of the unalterable facts of life that women are mysterious. There is no point in trying to rationalise, trying to account for or predict every facet of their behaviour because whatever you think you know is liable to flip over on you revealing a truth you never guessed at. Let me put it another way: You know in those naff horror films where someone looks at their reflection in a mirror? Then they put their hand out to touch the mirror and it turns out to be a pool of water? Quite often there’s something unexpected behind it. Well, now you’re getting it.

Years ago now when I was a student in my fourth and final year at one of the better-known Scottish universities I was once taught a savage lesson in humility. At the top of my game (or so I thought) in both my academic and physical prowess I believed I was cock of the walk. Imagine my pleasure, then when on one particularly lengthy booze and narcotic soaked night flitting between various house parties in the city I spent several hours in rapt conversation with a beautiful and alluring girl.

Jenny was a second year architecture student from the south of England. From a straight A background she was in possession of improbable wit, intelligence and good looks. When I blinked back into consciousness late the following afternoon with her number scrawled on the paper insert of a cigarette packet I wondered whether the person I had experienced the previous night had perhaps simply been a figment of the chemicals which had made their way through my body.

Wretchedly dialling her number later in the following week almost convinced of failure I could hardly believe my luck to be greeted by the same personable girl who I had met at the party. We talked on various subjects for a good hour before agreeing on a pub-date that Saturday. I could hardly believe my luck.

Come Saturday evening I found myself sitting in my favourite local, nursing a pint and talking with to two of my acquaintances that had wandered in. Drinks with Steve and Jeff were hardly what I had in mind but half an hour had already passed since Jenny and I were supposed to meet and here I was killing time with two hairy-arsed metal heads.

Another full half hour passed and I had abandoned all hope when suddenly, as if by magic, there was Jenny. She appeared at our booth in the now packed and smoky bar wearing a pair of slender white jeans and an elegant, matching white shirt. She looked amazing. The three of us stared slack jawed at her before my brain kicked back into gear and blurted out a hurried series of introductions.

“Right, I’ll get the drinks then.” Beamed Jenny and turned, casually flicking her hair and cruised off towards the bar leaving us in a heavenly scent cloud of perfume and expensive shampoo.

“Well, well S! I guess you’ll be looking to hang onto this one then?” Smirked my friend Jeff. Steve, my other friend just grinned like a schoolboy.

“Well, its early days.” I cautioned. Of course I was pleased that she had shown. But a nagging feeling inside me was telling me that the stress I had felt believing I was being stood up was a portent of things to come.

Over the coming weeks I saw a Jenny with some regularity. We spent the night together a couple of times every other weekend, although midweek meetings were rare. The University campus was sprawling and vast, making chance meetings extremely unlikely. Even when they did occur one or both of us were usually on route to someone or something that wouldn’t wait. We shared some pleasant but intermittently awkward dinner dates, sports and shopping as well as a sex life that while satisfying was a little restrained, mannered even. I was haunted by the strange sensation that she was waiting for me to catch up. Perhaps waiting for me to press some buttons that, to my gradual deflation, I couldn’t find. In conversation Jenny was often quiet, considered and reflective. Although her intelligence and manners were beyond reproach the fun, humorous girl who I met that first night only appeared occasionally.

Nonetheless the relationship stumbled on at varying degrees of intensity for almost six months in a fashion that if not blind, was certainly partially sighted. Somehow Jenny still seemed like a stranger to me, a fact that I tried, perhaps a little too hard to remedy. After we spent weekends together, come Monday morning she would rise promptly, kiss me goodbye and disappear out into the bustling streets. I gradually grew to hate lying there with the sun shining through the thin curtains, waiting for the alarm clock to go off, wondering how I could get closer to someone I was desperate to know. Any attempts to secure a definite next meeting with Jenny were often met with vague or evasive answers. Of course I was still madly attracted to her. After all she was not far off the dictionary definition of sexiness for me, her cascade of strawberry blonde hair framing a beautiful heart-shaped face with clear, alabaster skin. Her toned athletic body was both hard enough to look good but soft enough to retain its femininity. She had a beautiful pert, round arse conditioned, no doubt, by her above average abilities on the tennis court and a childhood in which horse riding purportedly featured prominently. She also had a fondness for push up bras, a belly ring and a tiny black heart tattooed on the inside of her thigh. Yep, I think its fair to say that she looked just about good enough to eat. I desperately wanted to love her as much as the way I loved the idea of her. Sadly, it simply wasn’t the case. And so in the face of our decidedly lukewarm chemistry and with heavy heart I decided to end things with her.

That Wednesday I miraculously managed to pin her down to meeting me for lunch at the bar where I worked part-time in town. Bizarrely she was far more affectionate and animated than I had seen her for some weeks. You could have knocked me over with a feather when she suggested we fly down to her Father’s house on the Devonshire coast for a romantic weekend. The thought of having her virtually all to myself for a couple of days amongst the beauty of the south coast was just the tonic I needed to make me shelve my plans for dumping her. Sitting there gazing at this woman with her beautifully curved legs primly crossed, an inch of cleavage peeking out from her white lycra sports top and her mesmerizing, mysterious smile I thought to myself: ‘How would you ever be able to explain to your mates that you dumped her? How are you going to feel when they all start queuing up to try their luck?’

And so I decided to soldier on. After all things weren’t that stale were they? Besides didn’t I feel great cruising my local haunts with such a fine looking girl on my arm? Pride comes before a fall. They say that don’t they? Sadly I’ve always found crash helmets rather restrictive.

Is it just me or is there something sexy about airports? Don’t judge me. Okay, they’re dirty, heavily air-conditioned, rammed with people often in various states of tiredness and/or frustration. But there’s something else there too. People heading off to places, smartly dressed to make a good impression at a meeting somewhere, showing a bit of leg to get in the right mood for partying or lying on a beach somewhere else, expectation and excitement in equal measure. There is also certain anonymity, the thought of a chance encounter, a random proposition? I don’t know. Despite my feelings I have never had a sexual encounter at an airport. Today didn’t look like it was going to change that.

“Is everything okay Jen? You seem a million miles away.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine; it’s just been a while since I’ve been home. I’m just thinking about things. Dad, Mum, you know?” She smiled at me. I was suddenly struck anew I knew her.

“Are you feeling down that your Mum isn’t going to be around?” I took a stab, knowing that Jenny’s Mother and Father had ways shortly before she had started at Uni. The split was to be permanent and her Mother was now living and working in Vancouver.

“Maybe. But S, I probably should have told you. My Dad isn’t going to be around either. He’s in London with his work. He’ll be back on Sunday morning but I doubt we’ll see much of him before we leave again. Sorry, I haven’t really given you many details have I?” I made empathic noises and what I hoped was an understanding face. The horny little devil inside me turned a cartwheel. No Daddy. Excellent! Okay, so what if I never managed to truly reach this woman? Wouldn’t a weekend alone with her be an excellent consolation prize?

“Its fine, honestly. Hell, what do I need details for?” I tried a winning smile. She softened a little and tried to put her head on my shoulder. It wasn’t very comfortable.

“I’m not very good at all the ‘having a boyfriend’ stuff. I’m sorry.” She said. I would soon discover there was a cryptic truth in much of what she said.

**

Every time I’m in the South of England I forget how much I love the place. Despite the relative cold it was a clear crisp day with a promise of spring in the air. The lengthy hire car trip down from the airport was made bearable by the numerous villages interspersed by low, rolling hills, forest and eventually secluded coves and beaches as we made our way down onto the south coast. After a good hour we passed into a sleepy village populated by expansive, sprawling properties set back from the road. From what I could see of them they belonged to either the rich or the very rich. At the end of a winding hill flanking a beautiful, sheltered rocky beach we turned up a private driveway through a pair of modern blackened iron gates. Over a gentle hillock I came face to face with Jenny’s Father’s house.

“This is Dad’s pride and joy. He designed it, interfered constantly with the building of it and it’s been a labour of love for the past seven years. Its only been considered fully completed in the last two.” I looked across at her. She had a distant look on her face “Come on, lets get settled in. I want to make the most of having you to myself.” She told me. I obliged, clambering out of the car, stretching and taking a good look at the pile of bricks in front of me.

What I saw was indeed impressive. It was an architect’s wet dream and a builder’s worst nightmare. Set about a quarter mile back from the road was a large, modern two-storey house ringed with an expansive area of dark, wooden decking around the front and balcony running around the upper storey. Most intriguingly of all the main body of the house appeared to have been built into the rise of the hill behind it. I wondered how far back it went. To the right of the property there was garaging for several cars and to the left a large glass conservatory area that was almost half the length of the house itself and contained a pool.

“Ostentatious isn’t it?” Jenny nudged me in the ribs from behind.

“On the contrary, I think I like it.” I said.

“Yeah, blokes always do.” She replied marching off towards the steps leading to the front door.

“So you invite a lot of men back here when you’re folks are away do you?” I called after her, unsure of whether I was joking or not.

“Come on, I’ll show you round.” She parried.

**

The next day morning I woke in the luxurious double bed of Jenny’s bedroom with her lying next to me. The previous night had been easily the best we’d spent together. She’d shown me round the frankly amazing rooms and features of the house, cooked me dinner, allowed me to beat her at pool in their games room and best of all allowed me to get her drunk and spend the hours of midnight to three in the morning fucking her round her Father’s luxurious residence.

Pushing her onto all fours on the soft baize next to the pool, wrenching her knickers down and driving my cock hard into that gorgeously formed, fragrant little fanny was just about as cathartic an experience as I can think of. Her signals during the evening had been unmistakable and for once I didn’t feel like I was playing catch-up. She had virtually torn the front of my jeans down at the pool table and ordered me to yank her hair while she took what seemed like an obscene portion of my cock into her mouth. I took her roughly on the floor, in the hallway, by the pool and the stairs before we finally made it back to her bedroom. Hustling her into the bathroom and bidding her kneel down on the toilet, I slid my length into her from behind, worked her over, kneading her cute little buttocks apart, admiring the sight of my dick sliding into the sweet little fuck hole.

The final bout came on her bed. She lay down in the soft, dim light and spread her legs wide, then brought her ankles up level with her head. Her fanny gaped and glistened wet from the exertion and she imparted a stream of verbal filth to me the like of which I had never heard before and rarely since. I climbed on top and sunk into her. Frustration poured out of me followed, in short order, by every drop of cum I had which she ordered me to shoot all over her face. How can you refuse a request like that? For the first time in our sex-life I felt like things were working, as they should.

I lay there in bed reflecting happily on the previous night as this beautiful girl slept peacefully next to me. I felt like we had turned a corner. I felt perhaps this relationship could work after all? If I had known what lay ahead I would have got up and called a taxi at that moment.

Saturday was a good day. Once again I felt like things were going right with Jenny. We had a relaxing breakfast together. She looked content and for once I felt like the previous night had done as much for her as it had for me. I caught her just looking at me; she appeared disarmed, almost vulnerable. It is no lie to say that it felt like a gift from the gods.

We took a long walk up a winding road that connected a series of beaches along the immediate coastline. We held on to each other and Jenny told me about growing up in London, about her parents, about the brother I never knew she had and about her plans for when she returned to her studies in Aberdeen.

When we returned to the house that afternoon she suggested we borrow one of her Father’s cars and drive into town for groceries. She led me through into the garage and with a wry smile pulled the dustsheet of a beautifully maintained Nissan Skyline GTR. My heart did yet another back flip as she tossed the keys to me.

Back at the house while we were putting the shopping away Jenny asked me if I would be interested in heading down to the local pub for the evening.

“Sounds fine to me. You know how I feel about these English country pubs? They just don’t make them like this up North.” I told her.

“Great. The Wheat Sheaf is just a five-minute walk from here. You’ll like it.”

“I’ve been pretty selfish, hogging you like this, haven’t I? I guess you’d like to see some of your friends?” I conceded.

“Its not that. I really don’t know to many people around the village. Between Uni, Sixth Form College, gap year, I’ve hardly lived here.” She said.

“Well, we should go out anyway. If nothing else so I can give you another pool lesson.” I said. She smiled seductively back at me and shifted her hips as a lock of hair fell across her forehead. My knees went weak.

“You know I let you win.” She said. I suspected there might be a little truth in this.

The Wheat Sheaf to my pleasure was a standard issue south country pub complete with decrepit brickwork and an oak beamed ceiling. I soon discovered it was in possession of the best jukebox, the best pool table and the best beer in the three-village area surrounding it. As such by the time we had a little supper and got a few beers in the place was getting pretty lively with a combination of locals, all of who seemed to know each other and a good handful of visitors, like myself.

Any time we went out together it was usually a fairly short step from the two of us having a drink and a laugh to Jenny as the centre of attention for every male in a half-mile radius. I had come to terms with this and made my peace with it. She appeared to have a curious power over men in that no one seemed to aggressively come on to her. She kept men at arms length, playing with then, scrutinising them, dictating the length and nature of every exchange, all the time with that curious little smile flashing across her lips. Apparently it was an easy process for her to render us a bunch of doe eyed, dribbling simpletons, staring adoringly at her. In an environment like this where she was a certified local girl, the effect was even more strong than usual.

Of course Jenny was a girl of conspicuously good breeding, at home in any kind of company and this night was no exception. She flitted from group to group catching up with old acquaintances, sharing her news, listening intently as others gave there’s but as always she introduced me to those she was talking to and included me in everything that was going on. But sometimes you just can’t shake the feeling that if you weren’t there would anyone really notice? After the previous night and the day we had just spent together it was hard to getting progressively harder to take. While I kept up the smile on the outside, inside my ego was threatening to start throwing his toys out of the pram.

By chucking out time the combination of the previous nights exertion, a strange environment and 6 jars of beer had rendered me dog-tired. Jenny hooked her arm around my waist, leaned into me and we staggered our way back up to the house and flopped into the bed. I must have been asleep before my head touched the pillow.

I don’t know what exactly woke me up later that night, but I remember every detail like it was yesterday. One second I was asleep, the next wide-awake and staring towards the French windows leading out onto the balcony of Jenny’s little suite of rooms. It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and clear, shining in through the glass, bathing the room in a pale eerie glow. As soon as I awoke I knew I was alone. Rolling over I found Jenny’s side of the bed empty and cold. I glanced at my watch. It showed almost quarter past two in the morning. At first I thought Jenny might be in the bathroom. I rolled back over and buried my head in the pillow, trying to relax, but five minutes came and went then ten, then fifteen. I had a strange, disquieting feeling. Something wasn’t right. I rolled onto my feet. I felt a little fuzzy and hung over and so quietly I made my way to the bathroom and took a long drink of water and a pee. I listened intently. The house seemed silent. I walked softly to the door and made my way out into the corridor and down toward the main body of the house.

At the end of the hallway a set of doors that opened soundlessly beneath my hand led to a small flight of stairs which took me down into an open plan living area strewn with brown leather furniture, opulent cushions and throws. I made my way soundlessly through the deep pile of the hand woven, woollen carpets.

There was a glass screen that led onto the minstrel’s gallery overlooking the beautiful conservatory that formed the jewel in the crown of the house. Below the gallery was the pool, Jacuzzi, a small gym, a seating area with more soft furnishings and a little bar used for entertaining. It was the most stunning part of the house. I placed a hand on the heavy, stylish handle of the sliding door. It moved a couple of inches. I listened. Drifting up from pool level beneath me, I was sure I could here voices above the gently lapping water and the distant hum of the heating machinery below floor level. Without warning my heart started to race. I could feel the blood thumping in my temples. It rapidly became so intense that it seemed to me as if the noise might actually be audible outside my head. I tried to calm myself. Perhaps I was mistaken? I pulled the door open a few inches more, the heated, chlorine-tinged air of the conservatory hitting me in a pleasant wave. There, down below in the seductive, mood-lit glow of the poolside, I was sure of it, there were voices.

I leaned back against the wall and gave myself a mental talking to. This is not my house and this was none of my business. I needed to get out of there and back into bed quickly, before she caught me eavesdropping. This was undoubtedly true but an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resentment gripped me. This girl who I had invested so much time and money in but yet struggled to get close to, fought to drag a tiny shred of information out of. This mystery seductress who was friends with everyone but close to no one, who handled men like a skilled horsewoman might inspire submission in a powerful stallion but who drew a healthy dose of suspicion and mistrust from her female peers. Yes, after this weekend I promised myself I would throw in the towel, but before I did I wanted at least some kind of explanation.

The voices continued below. There was at least one man down there. Had her Father returned home unexpectedly? I could hear Jenny’s confident, unaccented tones too. She sounded hushed and I couldn’t pick out any specific words. Taking a deep breath I cracked the sliding door open a little further, got down on my haunches and slid out onto the gallery. Feeling vaguely ridiculous I began to edge my way on my belly towards the railing. That would give me the best view of what was going on down there.

The noise from below increased somewhat. There was more than one bloke down there. I heard Jenny’s laugh and more movement like someone moving a chair. I slid forward on my belly and peered over the edge.

A couple of months back I went to visit a friend of mine in town. We’d drifted out of touch recently and I felt like it was time to make contact. Paul and his girlfriend had had a son recently, which was keeping him at home more than was natural for him. As he took great pains to remind me, I on the other hand was a free agent and could visit him any time I liked.

“I’m sorry Paul. You know I’ve been spending a good bit of time with Jenny recently.”

“Oh yeah… her. How’s that going?” He fixed me with an interrogative look.

“Okay, I guess. She’s some woman!” I fidgeted in my chair trying to think of something else that would sum up the amount of time I was investing in trailing about after her. Paul sighed and put a light to the dog-eared joint in the corner of this mouth.

“S, we’ve known each other for a fair few years now, haven’t we.” I nodded.

“And we’ve had a few adventures?”

“Yes.” I relied. He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“S, I don’t trust Jenny.” I clicked my tongue angrily and shot upright.

“For fucks sack Paul, I knew you were going to say that!”

“I’m sorry. There’s something about her… I don’t know.” He sighed, his eyes searching the cobwebs around the cracked ceiling of the shabby flat as if the right thing to say might somehow be up there.

“Its nothing bad, she’s just eccentric.” I pled.

“Eccentric! She’s a player S. I can tell by the way you talk about her. I can tell by the way she acts. You know she’s a player and you’re getting played.” He pointed at me to emphasise the point. He deserved an Oscar for that. A steady diet of American films had given Paul had a tendency towards melodrama.

“You know Jack that works in The Drum Inn? His Missus knows her from Uni. Does a few classes a week with her and I’m telling you Jenny is a fuck-up. She’s heard some nasty stories about her.”

“Jack and that bitch are a couple of arseholes. You don’t seriously expect that they’d be saying anything nice do you?” I shot back, wounded and angry, trying to push my own misgivings beneath Paul’s radar.

“You should listen. He’s got no reason to lie and neither does Holly. You may fall for that cutesy little rich-kid, tennis champ, Daddy’s princess shit, but I’m telling you, it’s an act. I have to tell you this shit I heard from Jack S. It is out of control I’m telling you…”

“This is bullshit!” I was flat out yelling at him now.

“Just listen, she…” I cut him off sensing the rough outline of the accusations he was going to make.

“How do you know any of this is true? I don’t have to listen to any of this crap!” With that I made for the door and slammed it behind me. It would be almost nine years before I would see or talk to Paul again.

Down below the poolside was lit with elegant shades of light thrown from up-lights, subtle spotlights and the natural glow of the pool in the moonlight. The minstrels gallery, however on which I now lay was in complete darkness affording me an excellent vantage point and almost guaranteed invisibility, as long as I kept quiet. Setting my head against the bars at a comfortable angle and allowed my vision a few seconds to adjust my eyes widened as I struggled to comprehend the scene below.

In the seating area next to the pool I counted six men. Three of them I recognised from the Hayloft earlier on, another three I had never seen before. Sitting amongst the group was Jenny. What I saw damn near made my stand up and throw a fit, but I bit down hard on my lip, wrestled my ego back into its cage, waited and watched.

My so-called girlfriend was sitting in the centre of the group legs crossed, as was her way. At first it appeared to me that she was not wearing a skirt but as she turned, the light caught the black shiny material of a tiny PVC miniskirt that barely covered her butt. The village slut motif was continued by a red halter-top made of similar material. She wore a little gold chain belt around her middle and a pair of red high-heeled shoes completed the outfit. It was a getup that not only had I never seen before but also was designed for one thing and one thing only.

They were talking in hushed voices, stifling giggles, and exchanging knowing glances. Jenny looking cool, confident and smiley as usual but there was something else. Even from up here I recognised a look in her eyes. It was predatory, like a wild animal eyeing its next meal. She shifted easily, gracefully moving over to the bar downing a glass of wine. The men fussed over her and touched her, no doubt thrilled at the prospect of what was surely coming.

I fought for control of my emotions and took a proper look at her companions. Three of them were definitely from the bar. The one who immediately struck me as the alpha male was also the tallest. He was a big, dark haired dude called Bob, or Brad or some damn thing beginning with B. There was also a slim, sharp dressed guy with greying temples whose name I couldn’t remember and a third who was about the same age as me and had introduced himself as Alec. The three familiars were completed by a tattooed sort with a crew cut and two medium built no-accounts in jeans who looked similar enough to be brothers. One of them sported a faded AC-DC t-shirt and the other was marked out by one of those poncey high-maintenance beards that guys in boy bands normally have.

Jenny returned from the bar sipping at a fresh glass of wine. Now Alec and AC/DC were hovering around squeezing her arse through the tight, lustrous material of her skirt. She put her arms around their shoulders and they both nuzzled at her neck and hair. Giving them just a little touch, I watched her break away and sit herself back down next to Bob and Slim holding the little hem of her skirt in place, smiling provocatively at them, daring them to make the first move.

It was Slim who finally did, pushing a hand inside the shiny, flimsy little halter that Jenny wore. He tugged at it and one of her tits popped out. Bob smiled round at his accomplices. I heard him say something to Jenny and suddenly there was an audible sound as he slapped her tit hard. I heard her gasp and there was a whispered exchange that I couldn’t make out. Jenny giggled. She liked it. Slim did it again. Jenny splashed a little of the wine from her glass over her exposed breast and he lapped it off.

She was sitting on the edge of the chair now with her legs parted. Slim was working her thighs apart, caressing up and down their inner surfaces. I saw the palm of his hand disappear up beneath the minimal coverage that her skirt offered and it didn’t reappear. Her other would-be lovers were trying to get involved too. Hands roughly tugged and the little skirt., challenging Slim for access. She was pushed forward abruptly and exploratory hands hade here way between her thighs from behind and parted her buttocks. I saw her freshly exposed arse quiver beneath another searing slap from one of them. She shot a look over her shoulder at the assailant. She tossed her hair dramatically and fixed him with a defiant look.

“That was just a little girlie tap.” I heard her taunt him.

“I see. I think Daddy’s girl wants to play rough.” Smirked Slim.

Bob, proving to be quite the leader had now stood up, unzipped his cock and was now offering it to Jenny at head height. AC/DC and Beardy followed suite and began playing with themselves right in front of her. More, hushed dialogue, Jenny glanced up at Bob and I saw that predatory look again before she slid a good portion of his rod into her mouth.

Crew-cut and Alec chinked their beers together and one of them let out a muted sound of encouragement. I heard Jenny playfully tell him to shut up or she’d throw him out.

AC/DC and Beardy both wanted to be jerked off and didn’t want to wait, leaving Bob to dictate how his blowjob was going to go. He wrapped his fist up in her hair and began to bring himself off in her mouth, deeper and deeper while she tugged rhythmically at the two cocks in her hands. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity Bob pushed her a little too far and she gagged on his member and broke her stride with all three of them.

“Okay?” Slim asked her. She nodded, wiping the saliva from her chin and found herself lifted up bodily by Bob and AC/DC and placed on the large rectangular table in the seating area where all six gathered round.

From here things got a lot more disturbing for me. A lot of the conversation was inaudible but I heard Tattoos remark that he didn’t mind sharing. Without much further ado Jenny found her mouth full again although this time both Tattoos and Alec both wanted it in her mouth at the same time. Jenny complied expertly grinding the heads of their swollen dicks against her tongue and against each other.

Meanwhile Slim and AC/DC were taking turns at exploring between her legs. AC/DC spat on his fingers and slid two inside her causing her hips to writhe. He put pressure oh her clit with his tongue and carried on pleasuring her like that until I heard Slim ask if he could take over.

I suppose it was only a matter of time before a bunch of drunk, horny men were going to be able to hold off fucking a pretty, nubile lady like Jenny and soon enough she sat up for a breather, panting but still smiling. She was helped off the table by a couple of her companions and I heard her ask Bob “How do you want to do this?”

Slim got himself laid down flat on the baize poolside and pausing to let the other five have a quick grope of her, she squatted down on his rock hard dick. Jenny took his length easily as he gripped her buttocks hard, dictating the style, rocking her back and forth towards him. I could see Jenny’s face clearly in this position. She looked skyward, her eyes closed, biting her lip as the other five stood around them, every one of them playing with themselves. She was the ultimate centre of their attention.

By admirably harmonious means AC/DC found his turn next, taking up the same position as Slim.

“Can I have more of the same?” I heard him ask my soon-to-be-former girlfriend like a small child asking for an extra helping of dessert. However it was not to be entirely the same and my despair was destined to grow a little deeper.

Bob was on Jenny now too kissing her hair, running his hands over her hips, over her butt. His hand slid between the crease of her buttocks. I could see his wrist rotate, making little massaging gestures as she slid up and down on AC/DC’s pole. Bob held her firmly, slowing the fucking right down and planted one knee on the floor next to the couple. My heart stopped.

Jenny let out a cry as her tight arse hole stretched to swallow the width of Bob’s cock. There was a murmur of encouragement from the gathering as he slid into her, trying to gauge how much she would accept.

For a second I fantasised about standing up and shouting the odds, about running down to save my girl, lamping as many of the fuckers as I could before they kicked my head in. But it only lasted for a second. I heard her muttering obscenity laden encouragement to both Bob and AC/DC. The others watched, enthralled, drawing closer around them. Jenny beckoned to Alec and made it clear that she wanted him in her mouth. I watched aghast as three men before my incredulous eyes fucked the most fascinating girl I had ever met.

I wish I could say that I can’t remember the combinations that Jenny went through that night as I watched in horror, my own rock hard dick pressing into the floor where I lay. Sadly, every second of her dark side is emblazoned on my mind and to this day, in my lower moments, I still revisit that night.

By the time practically all six of them had been in her cunt, her arse and her mouth she went back to the top of the queue again. She still looked pretty and fresh, still encouraged them and was still willing to accommodate any perverse request they might make. As far as I was aware no one had cum yet. But that was all about to change.

Things eventually led to Jenny on all fours with her arse up in the air so everyone could take their pick. Her skirt and halter now both reduced to a slim band of material around her waist. Modern man being modern man everyone wanted what they probably don’t get at home and so both Alec and Tattoos wanted to fuck her in the arse to finish with. She gamely presented herself, spreading her cheeks, panting from the exertion now, her brow glistening and both vagina and anus gaping wide. Both men lasted less than a few minutes Tattoos shooting his load in an impressive arc over her back. At Jenny’s request however Alec unloaded inside her arse hole causing her to squeal as the hot spunk squirted up inside her.

“Got yourself a little cum enema there.” I heard him say before making way for the next one.

Bob placed her in the missionary position while the others looked on, keeping their distance a little. She seemed to enjoy fucking him most of all. He drilled her cunt slow, deep and hard for some minutes before climaxing inside her as she arched her back and bit into his shoulder.

Unable to wait, for their own turns Beardy and AC/DC and Slim came at Jenny together and she gave her final expert demonstration of double penetration while sucking off Beardy. In short order they both begged her to cum on her face and she agreed. She dutifully kneeled on the floor while the semi-circle standing before her frantically massaged their cocks, bringing themselves to the finish line. With their backs to me it was hard to see the specific details but one at a time I heard their gratification and Jenny’s gutter-mouthed taunts as they unloaded on her. When they stepped away her face and hair were a glistening, sticky mess. Cum streamed down her cleavage and had been smeared over her tits and her belly. As she turned I could see a further mess of spunk between the cheeks of her arse and trickling down between her thighs. Someone handed her a towel and she struggled to slip her skirt and halter back into place over her sweaty, sticky skin. Bob brought a glass of wine, handed it to her and then gallantly toasted her cum-splattered majesty. The others sat around spent grinning at each other, paying lame compliments to their Mistress. Jenny sighed and sat back.

“God that the spot.” I heard her say. As I slunk back away from the ledge into the sucking blackness I felt like my life had ended.

I blinked awake at eleven thirty the next morning. The second I was conscious the pain began. Very gently I turned myself round in the bed. Next to me I could see a beautiful wave of strawberry blonde hair. I hitched myself up a little until I could see the left side of her face. She had obviously cleaned herself up a great deal before coming to bed. Now she slept peacefully, no doubt exhausted. I wanted to hate her, but I didn’t. She was unspeakably beautiful. But the longer I looked at her the worse the pain grew. I took a final, long look.

I rose and walked through the house like a zombie, not recognising my surroundings, not feeling anything except pain and humiliation. I bumbled into the long opulent kitchen without truly looking where I was going. At the far end of the granite counter in the centre of the room I was jolted back to reality by the sight of a tall, elegant looking man. Like me he was around six feet but with a heavier, more purposeful build. A severe wedge of silver grey hair crowned his handsome, weatherworn face. I guessed that he would be in his late fifties, although his build suggested that he possessed the strength and fitness of a much younger man. On the worktop there was a leather holdall and laptop bag.

“Hi, you must be S. Jenny’s told me all about you.” He marched towards me and met me with a firm handshake.

“Mr Martin, pleased to meet you.” I struggled mentally to straighten myself up.

“Likewise. Did you two have a good weekend?” His keen, intelligent eyes searched my face, burning into the back of my frazzled brain. In my mind I took a long walk off a short pier into an ocean of fire.

“Ahh… yes. Thank-you it was… really…” Mr Martin put his head on one side and stared at me for the longest time. Unable to defend my position I stared back. He had a wise, kindly face. I felt like going home to my own parents.

“A rough night, eh?” I wondered what he knew.

“Kind of.” I stammered. He took off at a tangent.

“Jenny, tells me your thesis is coming together well. I admire your resolve. I was foolhardy enough to complete both my degrees as a mature student. Biochemistry can be a tricky beast I think.” I nodded along unsure of where this was heading. He smiled at me. “Sometimes an experiment just doesn’t yield the kind of result you are expecting, hey?” I looked down at my feet. I sensed some kind of revelation was at hand and connected with where I believed the conversation was going.

“I couldn’t agree more. Last semester I made a series of measurements of iron binding potential in serum over a twenty-four hour period. It was a long and arduous day and night during which I couldn’t leave the lab. My intention was to chart the decrease in potential as the serum deteriorated.”

“The experiment failed?” Mr Martin enquired sipping at a glass of orange juice that he had picked up from the counter.

“The controls were very sensitive, I paid improper attention to the staging of the experiment. And yes Sir, it failed.” We looked at each other for another long stretch. Finally he sighed and set his glass down, looking at the floor before turning his gaze back to me. There was a strange look in his eyes: Sadness? Embarrassment?

“Sometimes you can spend all the time in the world designing an experiment, making plans, taking an enquiring approach. For us mere men, often the answers to our questions simply aren’t attainable. And even if we could attain them, would we fully understand them? Sometimes it is in our own best interests to give up on investigating certain subjects. For the good of one’s sanity!” He chuckled. There was another pregnant pause. Then the tall, noble figure gathered up his things and made his way towards the door leading to the hallway.

“I have some things to do in town and I suppose you two will be gone by the time I get back. I’ll just nip up and say goodbye to Jenny. It was nice to meet you though S. I sincerely wish you all the best in the future.” Unexpectedly he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry about your weekend.” He said and left.

**

Its strange how things work out. Jenny and I returned home together but we barely spoke and I resolutely avoided her gaze. For the first time in our relationship it felt like she was the one chasing me. She repeatedly asked me what was wrong, tried to make me laugh, tried to divert me by making plans for when we got home, at the airport she even tried to get me to sneak her into the men’s toilets and fuck her. All this gave me a certain perverse pleasure but I remained, I am proud to say, polite but noncommittal. Just like I had learned from her.

Given Jenny’s proven academic intelligence I believe she must have been aware that I had discovered at least part of what was going on. But to this day I have no idea how much she thought I knew or indeed how much her Father knew about her particular proclivities. I think its fair to say that Saturday night wasn’t the first time she’d had a gangbang. In the end I resolved not to think about it. Intelligent she may have been, in full control of herself, I believe, she was not.

When we got back to Aberdeen we parted ways. She hung off me, searched my eyes for some kind of cue, telling me she hoped the trip hadn’t been too boring, still protesting that she would see me tomorrow. But by then I wasn’t paying much attention to what she was saying. I just smiled, thanked her and walked away.

On Monday morning I called my course tutor and told him I was going to take a week at my parents house to consolidate my thesis and with that I left for home.

When I returned to Aberdeen Jenny had called me a couple of times and left messages on my machine. It was hard but I never responded to them and she never called back or visited. I was never to encounter her again on the street or in any of my regular haunts.

As my course came to an end early that summer I received my honours degree, although with it came a strange feeling of emptiness and uncertainty about the future. My pursuit of Jenny had caused my to lose touch with many of my friends and I felt strangely alone. Loitering by the class boards in my last weeks on campus I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the lists for her name under a class I knew she’d been taking. There it was, in the top band of course. It was almost a surprise to receive confirmation that she actually existed after the amount of emotional suppression I’d been through in the months since Devon. I glanced around, fearful that I might catch sight of her and open up the wound. But I saw no one I recognised among the faces.

Time passes and you get your wings back. You remember that maybe, just maybe, you are cock of the walk after all. You forget that some people play by a different set of rules. Forget that some people have got a meaner streak than you’ll ever have. Except in my weakest moments I never hated Jenny for the lesson she taught me, but that night showed me that she liked to play in a world that for me exists only in pulp fiction and porno. It was a world that I thought I could never belong in.

Early last year I put out a tender to various architecture firms to design the house that I now live in. As I scanned an Internet directory of potential firms a family run partnership at the higher end of the market caught my eye: A, T and J Martin Ltd, Architects. Needless to say I did not contact them. Perhaps it was a different family, who knows? Other than that I never heard of Jenny Martin again. I have no idea where she is. But I bet she’s doing okay.

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