I met my wife on a school ski trip when I was 18. I can honestly say that trip changed my life. I decided to write a story in the same setting I met my wife. There is a bit of a build-up but the payoff is worth it.
Scenes of group play, girl-on-girl and public sex. All characters are over eighteen.
Thanks for reading. If anyone has any holiday romance stories post them in the comments.
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Hi, I'm Beth and this is the story of the best school trip I ever went on. Nearly two decades on and it still sticks out as a significant moment in my life.
If I'm honest at the time I was a stuck-up, self-absorbed bitch. An out-of-the-bottle blonde with brown eyes and eyebrows. Bubblegum pink lipstick at all times and nails to match. I was objectively good-looking but painfully knew it.
I loved the attention I got from the boys at school, especially the wrong kind. For reference, I looked like a less attractive version of the gorgeous Elle Fanning. That was years ago and I have to say I prefer who I am now. This trip was the catalyst that changed me for the better.
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The old coach was cramped and spelt rancid after the long journey. A bunch of eighteen-year-olds. Two teachers and two drivers crammed together with no AC for twelve hours.
We travelled from Milton Keynes in the UK to the ski resort Courchevel 1650 in the French Alps. It was the annual 6th form ski trip our school put on every year. I was so excited, more so than for any other trip I'd been on. A whole week with my boyfriend and our friends, Skiing and partying every night. This was going to be epic.
There were only two things that could put a downer on this experience. Our teachers, especially the stern Mr Gilbert, and that weirdo Simon. He had only joined the school this year and already had a reputation as strange.
Our school was a bit draconian and we had to wear school uniforms, even in 6th form. The classic British black blazer embroidered with the school's emblem. Whistle shirt and blue/ yellow striped tie. Even wearing school uniforms, normal people still tried to be stylish. Wearing our ties really shirt and thick, shirts untucked etc. The girls all competed for how high we could pull out skirts, or how many buttons we could have undone.
Simon didn't do any of that, he dressed like a proper dork. Long tie done up properly, perfectly polished shoes and shirt always tucked in. He looked like a briefcase wanker without the briefcase. His dark brown hair was longish and always wet with hair gel. He always wore these smudged glasses and generally looked greasy. I guess he looked a bit yucky like Snape from Harry Potter.
He never seemed to have friends and was easy to pick on because he never answered back. He just kept to himself, a real loner. Nowadays you would call him an incel, back then we called them tards. He had somehow managed to get a spot on the trip. What a waste. It could have gone to someone cool like Maddie, who missed out because of him.
This was the first time I'd seen Simon out of school. Normally a school trip like this was a chance to show off your personality and style. Simon dressed like some homeless druggy. Baggy grey joggers and a tattered black hoody. Need I say more? What a total buzz kill.
My friends and I had tried to book all the spaces for the trip with cool, socially normal people. Unfortunately, SSSimon slipped through the net. We called him that because of his lame stutter, one more thing to complete his loser portfolio.
I sat with my boyfriend Jamie and enjoyed some naughty touches at the back of the coach. I say enjoyed, but in truth, I would have had more fun doing it myself. He was the only guy I had slept with and I hoped he would get better at it soon.
His cock was smaller than you would think to look at him. Not tiny, but nothing I could brag about to my friends. He was perfect in every other way though, cool, handsome and rich. Everything I thought a girl could want. I planned to use this week to train him in the bedroom department.
My three best girlies were also on the trip:
Hannah: was a sweet brunette, girl next door type. She had the biggest tits of the group perfectly in proportion to her curvy, hourglass figure. To balance out her big tits she had a perfect peachy bum.
Mira: the sporty girl, was a footballer and my best friend. Her parents were originally from India. She had inherited gorgeous long black hair and beautiful dark brown eyes. She had a lean athletic build and a cute face. She also was the only one of us with a tongue piercing.
Amy: was a cute ginger with freckles on her nose that she always tried to cover up. She was probably closest to my size and proportions.
The rest of the group were secondary friends and other socially acceptable people. Looking around the coach my eyes fell on Simon. He was the only one with a seat to himself because no one wanted to sit next to him. Just being near him could lower your social status by association.
Throughout the long journey, his nose was stuck in his stupid tatty book. It looked like the sort of thing you'd see in an old library. Dark green fabric cover with no pictures or anything to say what it was about. His smudged glasses teetered on the edge of his nose as his sore eyes flicked over the text. He mumbled under his breath which was strangely annoying. He had headphones in, listening to god knows what sort of emo music he was into.
He had hardly said three words to anyone since we left home. But then who would listen if he did? It would take him half an hour to say a sentence. I didn't feel bad for disliking him, it was his fault for ruining the perfect week with his mere presence.
As we neared the resort Mr Gilbert stood up. He was a very tall imposing man, who constantly wore a scowl. He turned to deliver the usual dull school trip speech. This is what we expect of you. You are representing the school, blah, blah, blah.
"Right you horrible lot, as you can tell by the snow we're nearing the resort. In case you aren't aware, let me make a few things clear," he said in his usual stern tone.
He came across as a guy who hated his job and everything that went with it.
"At best I'm ambivalent towards most of you. Some of you I actively dislike for no other reason than your choice in hair product," Mr Gilbert said. Glancing at Simon.
Jesus even the teachers naturally disliked him. It was true that Simon used too much hair gel. It made his hair look lank and wet.
"I hope I'm making my point clear when I say. As soon as we arrive my obligation to look after your best interests is over," we shifted in our seats when we heard this.
"I'm leaving the school as soon as this trip is over. So this is my leaving do. Fucking hurray for me," he looked like a man who had finally come to the end of his rope.
"I don't want to hear or see any of you until we get on the coach home. If any of you cock Wombles; I'm looking at you, Simon. Breathe a word of this to their parents I'll cut their balls off," he said with a straight deadpan face.
The whole coach sat in stunned silence. I saw the face of Miss Marshall the French teacher go white.
"Woo party!" shouted Jamie next to me. Clapping hands with his mate Connor in that icky way boys do.
"Shut it, Cooper. You fucking ape," Mr Gilbert called to the back of the coach.
YES! A whole week of no teachers watching our every move. I mean it was how it should be. We were all eighteen; we should be able to do what we liked.
