My University Life - Year 2 Term 2

My plan to shag my way through University had failed so far. While it was still my plan, I was becoming uncertain as to how!

Year 2 - Term 2

January 1977

As I was returning to London on the train, I thought about my first term and how it had gone completely different to my expectations. There was no shagging at all, though I had continued to self pleasure enough!

Sat there, as I looked out at the moving landscape, I realised that I was looking forward to returning to Uni. And also looking forward to seeing Jane!

Sure enough, as I arrived at Eric's that Sunday afternoon, Jane was there. I'd barely put my bags down, when I was met with her holding my face and kissing me, then hugging me close... really close. So close I felt her boobs firm against my chest. Surprised I was to say the least, but also very pleased. So I said, jokingly, "Thank you, that was very nice. Who are you again?"

For that, I received a "Ha! Ha!" followed by a slap on my arm. It didn't hurt.

The first week back at KCL seemed more intense than I'd expected. I undertook my 'stress relief' exercises at the house, in bed, in the bathroom, either the loo or the shower. University toilets became a no-no!

The new desk in my room hadn't materialised, so I ended up using the dining table for studying.

It's important to remind you than in 1977, there was no such thing as the Internet, no PCs/laptops/iPads, no Google, no smartphones, so studying was all about reading books and actually writing stuff on paper!

The Wednesday offered some relief (not stress relief!) when Jane came round and likewise again on the weekend.

It was the Wednesday of the second week of term and I only had morning lectures, so I'd gone home, had a run to the park and back and was in the shower. I'm there with my soaped up dick hard in my hand, getting ready to give it some serious exercise, when suddenly there's a loud knock on the bathroom door, which I'd locked even though no one else was in the house.

"Jon, Jon," I hear Jane shout, "open the door, I need a wee. HURRY. I'm bursting!."

"OK OK" I shouted back, getting out and quickly throwing a towel around my waist trying to hide my erection. I'd barely unlocked the door when Jane raced in. As I turned to close the door, I just caught the barest hint of the sight of her bush as she pulled down her knickers. As the door closed I heard her sigh and a loud 'pshhh' as she started to wee.

I'm stood on the landing outside the bathroom, water dribbling down my head and body, with my erection poking slightly forward underneath the towel. I thought that putting my hand over it would make it more obvious, so I stayed there until Jane came out.

"Thanks," she said, "I really needed that. Sorry for... interrupting."

I'm sure she glanced down to my towel then quickly up and that her face was beginning to blush. Back in the shower, I couldn't help but think of the near sight of her bush. For perhaps the first time I thought about Jane sexually. And the subsequent ejaculation seemed even more intense!

Afterwards, downstairs, neither of us made mention of the incident. I didn't forget it, however, especially evenings in bed!

It was on the Saturday that I received two letters and a parcel in the post, marked

'Not to be opened until 26th January'

. Obviously from mum and dad and my auntie Sue. When Mary saw them she asked,

"Are they what I think they are?"

"Yes," I replied, "it's my 20th birthday."

With a sudden big smile, she said, "You won't believe it but it's Jane's birthday too!"

"No way!" I exclaimed, "How come I didn't know that?" then dawning on me, "Is it her... 18th?"

"It sure is." replied Mary.

"Better get her a card then!" I said, adding, "I'll hide these, so she won't know."

"It'll be a nice surprise then," said Mary, "I'll tell Eric not to say anything either."

Nothing was said over the weekend, though there were furtive smiles between Mary and I. I got Jane's card on the Monday, along with ABBA's Arrival LP.

On the Wednesday, Jane arrived before me and had already opened all her cards and presents, except for my card. She waited until I was there to open it and thanked me, with a small peck on the cheek!

Smiling, I sang, "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday dear Ja-ane, My Birthday twin-ee."

Jane looked at me puzzled, then I added, "It's my birthday too."

"What? Your birthday? And you didn't let me know. You... you... horror bag!" she complained.

"You didn't tell me it was yours either, my little twinnie horror bag." I answered back.

She slapped my arm, "But I haven't got you a card," she answered.

"Then get me two next year, one a belated birthday card!" then picking up the rather obvious flat, square present, I added "You won't be wanting this then."

As she took it from me and looked back at me there was definitely a smear of water in her eyes. She came forward and hugged me, whispering "I'll get you back for this," and pulling away there was a big smile on her face.

We bantered a lot the rest of that evening. It was fun. Eric and Mary said we should go out Friday night to celebrate, especially as Jane could now drink legally! She could also stay the night. So on Friday night that's what we did, we ate out, drank out and taxi'd home. I think Jane was a bit tipsy, not drunk but definitely 'relaxed'!

Everyone had gone to bed but for whatever reason I had delayed getting into bed. My light was still on as I finally got in. I was just about to turn my bedside light off when my door opened and in sneaked Jane, dressed in PJs with shorts. She held her finger at her mouth in the universal 'Shh' sign. She closed the door quietly and came over and sat on the corner of my bed, where she sat cross legged, with her legs splayed open at her crutch! As I was only partly sat up, my eyes were more or less level with it!

Quietly she spoke, "You know they're not quiet. They shag like teenagers!"

"Sorry, what?" I mumbled, trying to prize my eyes away from the hidden vista between her legs.

"Grandad and Mary. They shag like they're teenagers. They're old! Like, what's that all about?" she replied.

Finally looking her straight in the eyes, I answered, "Lucky them," and a fraction later, "I think they must be having my share."

Jane looked back at me, as if to say something else then a smile crossed her face, "I guess they're having mine too!"

We both sniggered a bit, though quietly, then I sat up a bit more, trying to move my eyes away from the veil covering her most intimate bits!

"You wondered about your grandad and Mary." I said, "Let's imagine an attractive girl, in a flimsy set of pyjamas who comes and sits on the end of a boy's bed with her legs crossed but splayed open. Imagine too, that lusty lad in his bed, eyes transfixed on the thin fabric barely covering the girl's vulva. He is physically aroused by her teasing. They look at one another. Briefly, unspeaking. Then he leaps up and pulls her, unresisting, down onto the bed, where they hurriedly undress one another. In a moment he's inside her, thrusting his erection in and out until they shriek in their orgasms." I paused briefly, then, "That's shagging! A raw, animalistic, selfish, lustful and horny act."

Seeing Jane's eyes wide in a sort of shock/amazement/wonder, and about to speak, I continued, "Your grandad and Mary though, while they may do the same physical act, there's a big difference. The difference is that they're not shagging, they're making love. What they're doing involves affection and intimacy, a sharing of deep emotion and love. Me, I hope and wish that when I'm their age, that's the kind of sex I'd like to be having. Maybe even when I'm younger." Then, with a cheeky smile, I added, "Though I wouldn't say no to the occasional quick shag!"

After a few seconds, Jane said, "I... I never thought about... about their love. I just thought about the... the sex and them... shagging."

"Don't confuse sex for love," I answered, "instead think of lust and sex but think of intimacy and love. I'd like to think that one day you'd know the difference too."

She was silent, her mind obviously trying to absorb this new, to her, perspective. Then she said, "When you said about... imagine the girl and the boy, it was as if... I mean... well?" before stuttering to a stop.

I realised in the low light that she was blushing, and then as if some thought had just struck home, she went, "Oh! Oh!" and got up and left. Closing the door quietly again after her.

I turned the light out, pushed my PJ bottoms down in the bed and gripped my already rampant rod. Closing my eyes, I saw again Jane's open legs and the thin fabric hiding her vagina's lips. Shortly the distant warning tingle began, so just reached down for the socks I'd worn. Placing them, layered, over my cock I continued my pleasuring. As I imagined the pink lips of her vagina open before me, I shuddered and spewed and spewed my ejaculate into the socks. Finally, fully satisfied, I threw the socks on the floor and slept.

I guess it was about 6:30 or 7 o'clock on the Saturday morning and I'm lay on my stomach in that semi asleep, semi awake state, dreaming. Dreaming again of Jane, her legs open on my bed, but this time I pulled her down onto the bed, we got naked and shagged. Like teenagers! The dream was so vivid, especially the climax as I unleashed my spunk load inside her. Except, of course, I was alone in bed. My PJ bottoms were down the bed somewhere and I'd shot my load under me on the sheets! Twenty minutes or so later as I moved and felt the wet sticky patch under me, I became suddenly awake. I'd cum on my sheets. Mary changed the sheets on Saturdays! In a panic I got up, found my PJ bottoms and undid the bedclothes, wrapping the bottom sheet so the wet stain wasn't visible. I even had to turn the mattress over to hide the wet patch! I got dressed early and went downstairs. Later, Mary even thanked me for undoing the bed for her.

However, I was suddenly even more aware of the dangers of cum on my sheets! So I bought several packets of condoms and hid them in my small rucksack. Having said that, because I was also a thrifty lad, after I had used them, I washed them out, dried them, lubed them with some oil from the bathroom so I could re-use them! Which I did. Often.

The following Wednesday, I arrived back from KCL to find Jane already there. There was obviously something bothering her, she seemed almost shy. Finally, I asked her what was up and could I help, thinking it might be school stuff. A little hesitantly she confessed to being really confused over the

'bed thing'

, what I'd said and how it made her feel. We chatted all around the subject, I guess, until I said,

"Jane, let me be very clear. I like to think I am your friend and that you are mine. As your friend, whatever you ask me I will never lie to you, I may be brutally honest if I need to be, but I will always answer you truthfully."

After a pause, I added, "That particular imagining was indeed based on the situation where you were sat on my bed. But... I exaggerated the events to highlight what shagging was like. Anyway, in that imagining, it was probably not the first time the girl had come into his room, had sat provocatively, teasingly before him, nor the first time he'd been aroused by her. Now..." I hesitated briefly, then continued, "But when you sat on my bed, you did so... innocently and unintentionally, I think. You sat there with your legs opened, not thinking about how... how visually erotic that could be to me. I have to say... I was aroused. How could I not be? An attractive girl on the end of my bed, Oh! yes. Though I don't think you were deliberately teasing, as that girl was. But I will say that I found it very... distracting. Very nice but very distracting." Smiling boyishly!

There was a faint smile on Jane's face, that developed into an almost cheeky smile, "Just as well I wasn't just wearing a nightie then!"

"I think not just my head would have exploded!" I replied.

Still smiling, she said, "I wonder if I should think of you as the lusty lad then!"

I'm not sure why I answered as I did, but I replied, "I have my moments at being a lusty lad I can assure you."

"Oooo," she cooed, "Do tell."

I was saved by the front door opening and Mary arriving. Jane answered, as she rose, "You've given me a lot to think about. Till next time. Maybe."

I had no lectures that Friday afternoon, so I arrived back about 2 o'clock and was busy doing notes catch-up. Mary had left a note saying that Eric would be staying at hers that night as they were out at some party or other. She'd left me to fend for myself food-wise!

I was sat in the front room about 4:30, when I saw Jane coming up the road so got up to open the door. As I did I could see she'd been crying, that she was still really crying. Before I got the chance to ask, she said, "He hit me." and flung her arms around me and sobbed.

I held her until I sensed a lull in her tears then holding her hand I pulled her to the living room and sat her down on the settee next to me. She then began to tell me, angrily, what had happened.

She'd come home from school to find that the diary I'd given her wasn't where she'd left it. Searching around her room, it definitely wasn't there. Nor was her new hair drier and a little glass owl trinket her nan had bought her as a child.

For information purposes at this point, Jane lived with her mother Linda and her partner of 5 years, Eddie, and his 12 year old daughter Lisa. Eric and Linda had fallen out as Eric disapproved of him, after various money 'incidents' and, ironically, Linda's dislike of Mary!

Jane challenged Lisa about the missing stuff, which she denied. Jane had pushed past Lisa into her bedroom and found the diary, drier and trinket. As Jane went back to her room with her things, Jane's mum and Eddie came in. Lisa then raced downstairs claiming Jane has pushed her into her door and hurt her arm.

An argument then followed, the narrative of which was something like:

Jane : "She stole my diary and read my personal stuff and she took my new hair drier and nan's little owl."

Lisa : "I didn't, I didn't, she lent me them."

Jane : "I did no such thing you lying, stealing little shit."

Eddie then slapped her across the face saying, "Don't speak to her like that."

Jane : "Mum!" she shouted, looking at her.

Linda : "Well it wasn't a very nice thing to say."

Jane : "I might know you'd defend her and not me."

Eddie, raising his hand again : "Have some respect for your mum or get out!"

So she stormed out, picking up only her school bag on the way out and made her way to the one place she felt safe, her grandad's. Only he wasn't there, I was. I asked her if she wanted me to call him.

"Yes," then suddenly, "NO! No. He'll get really angry, he'll want to go round and... No. Can I stay here tonight?"

"Jane," I said, "you have more right to be here than me. I'm sure your grandad would say yes. In an instant. And for as long as you want."

"What should I do?" she pleaded, "I don't want to live there anymore. It's awful, it's... it's not like here."

"Jane, you're 18, you can live anywhere you want now. You don't have to live there." I said. With that, she almost flung herself against me, hugging me and crying again. I put my arm around her and held her to me until she stopped. We just sat quietly together for a while. I went to make us something to eat and she followed me into the kitchen as I did. The rest of the evening was spent just sat watching TV, with her leant against me, her head on my shoulder and her legs curled up.

When it came to bedtime, she realised then that she'd literally only come in her school uniform and hadn't brought anything else. So I offered a pair of my PJ's.

"They may be a bit baggy on you, but they'll be OK for now." I said.

I went up to get them and Jane followed me into my room. I dug out a pair with long bottoms and a buttoned top. She said thanks and left for the room she normally slept in. I went to the toilet, did my ablutions and went to my bedroom and changed. I'd just about got into bed and was about to turn off the light when there was a faint tap on the door.

"Jane?" I asked. She came in. Looking at her in my PJ's I added, trying to be jovial, "Well, they certainly look better on you than me."

She stayed at the door, a nervous look on her face, "I... I don't want to be on my own. Can I stay in your room please Jon?"

I could see that there were tears close to the surface and I felt really sad for her. So, "Of course," I replied, "Just a mo'."

I got out of bed and told her to get in, on the opposite side to my preference. She lay down under the sheet and quilt. I went round to my side of the bed and climbed in but over the sheet and under the quilt, so that the sheet was between us.

"You OK?" I asked, to which Jane just nodded. I reached up and turned the lamp off, turning my back to her.

A moment later I felt her arm come over as she snuggled into my back. I took her hand gently in mine but she gripped my fingers very tightly. I could feel her body against my back and that her breathing was sort of juddering in a suppressed cry. I held our joined hands over my chest, over my heart, which itself was on the verge of pounding.

It was a good 40 minutes before I felt her grip start to loosen and an hour by the time it was slack. I didn't let go, until suddenly her hand left mine as she rolled onto her back. I waited for a moment then slowly turned to face her. In the dim light, I could barely see her but as I looked at her face, she looked vulnerable, fragile and needing... something. I was overcome with the strangest of emotions. A need to help her, to somehow take away the hurt she obviously felt, to... to do... I didn't know what! My own eyes filmed at that moment as I looked at her. I placed my hand gently on hers, lay my head down and soon fell asleep.

February 1977

I was awake early, very conscious my body's tendency for early morning erections. Jane was still asleep and I could see her breathing slowly, her breasts rising and falling in my borrowed PJ top which, incidentally, I never got back!. I concentrated on not getting horny! Finally she stirred, opened her eyes to see me looking at her.

In an attempt at humour, I said, "I hope my snoring didn't disturb you."

A half smile, then, "I thought it was thunder!"

Scrunching my face and nose, I answered, "Ha! Ha!" then, "I think it must be your turn to make breakfast."

"Do you like your toast burnt or singed?" she replied.

"How are you with cereal?"

"Do you like them soggy?"

This little moment of banter seemed to lighten her spirit, I think. She got up, went to the bathroom and her own room, as I changed too. When she came downstairs, she was of course in her school uniform still! To my surprise she said,

"I've had to borrow a pair of Mary's knickers as well. Fortunately they're not..." she paused in whatever she meant to say, "anyway, they fit OK."

Breakfast of near soggy cereal was had! Then the conversation began. She asked if I thought her grandad would let her live here. I told her he most certainly would, I couldn't believe he'd say no.

Jane said she needed to go and get her things from her mums, her clothes, books, everything. She didn't want to go when 'they' were there, to have anything to do with them. On and on in her anxiety she went. Then the front door opened.

Jane leapt up and ran to the door. It was Mary. As I followed Jane into the Hall I saw her hug Mary and the floods of tears began. Looking over Jane's shoulder, Mary's expression was mixed. I feared she thought I'd done something. Then Jane's grandad came in and Jane leapt onto him sobbing.