I've always liked a girl that would stand no chance of covering her own modesty if she felt the situation required it. If suddenly caught fully nude in public, she would doubtless attempt in vain to cover her boobs with her left arm and let the slender fingers of her right hand fail in their task of obscuring her pubic mound. An abundance of breast, thighs, hips, buttocks would be sacrificed to the admiring gaze of the crowd of onlookers that would inevitably gather.
Olivia's gut instinct of embarrassment and immediate need to regain modesty would soon subside however and she would doubtless take a bow, beam a radiant smile and stride confidently towards the nearest gent offering his jacket.
From an early age Olivia appeared to be out of place with friends of her own age. A woman, you'd imagine a mother already at eighteen years of age such was her precocious physical maturity and apparent fecundity. How I came to be lucky enough to be one of the early notches on her student flat, single bedpost is a tale I replay in my mind over and over.
Our small town is dominated by the colleges and universities that have long been situated there. With no other industry of significance here, students make up at least 20% of the population. My work is out of town, back in the city, from which Olivia's and my own family stem. I don't often get home in time to partake of the vibrant nightlife this university town offers and besides I wouldn't want a reputation as the oldest swinger in town or be mistaken for one of the pervy lecturers. This one early summer evening though I was at a village pub off the beaten track on my way home. In a corner of the lounge was a group of around 8 female students who could not help draw attention to themselves, out of place in this quieter venue which didn't have to prostitute itself to the student trade as those nearer the town centre tended to. As I supped my first pint, there being little else to entertain me there, I'd assess the group of girls in terms of their beddability as they splintered into smaller groups of twos and threes to visit the bar, the toilets, go out for a fag or put songs on the jukebox. As I've often found, the shortest in the pack tends to exude the most sexual attractiveness. Does she feel a need to project more than her taller friends? Or is it just my own subconscious preferences coming through? Is it just that a decent set of knockers looks even more alluring on a girl no taller than 5 ft 3"? Each of the group had their own advantages, some of the taller slimmer girls suited their pretty summer dresses more and stirred romantic allure. Darker skin hues and ethnic physical traits of some of the girls hinted at exotic, erotic possibilities. Twenty stone Tess was extremely overtly sexual and one felt would have a nerdy simp or simps on which she would be calling in the early hours of tomorrow morning to douse her fire.
My first pint was almost out and the mere presence of the girls had kept me entertained enough, so I decided I'd have another before continuing my drive home. As I approached the bar, from the corner of my eye I was aware of a girl, seated till now, raising herself up and moving towards me. I couldn't focus on the task of ordering as I had to watch her. Long brown hair cascading down either side of a voluptuous face. She wore a clingy black cashmere sweater tucked into black boot-cut trousers, the top of which stretched at the soft, curvy loveliness of her lower abdomen. As she navigated her friends' chairs to cross the carpeted area toward the bar, her hips swayed seductively. As her feet adjusted to the tiled area around the bar she stumbled slightly, corrected herself and said out loud "Oops-a-daisy" making eye contact with me. Her brown eyes drew me in. The barman waited patiently.
"You're one of the Flannery girls. Emily?"
"No, Em's my oldest sister, she's married with three children now. I'm Olivia."
"The baby of the bunch. I didn't know you lived out this way now, of course, you'd be late teens now, how time flies. What can I get you?"
"Oh, no, its OK, its my turn to get the shots in."
"I dont mind that, in fact I insist. It's not often I meet neighbours from Westheath out here. I'll take one with you." turning to the barman, "could you get us 10 Baby Guiness, please?"
The barman took a few minutes to pour the shots and Olivia changed subject.
"I'm sorry to hear about your divorce. Your ex, Samantha is quite pally with our Emily."
This reminded me why I'd moved out here. Anyone knowing my business felt painful but Emily, who was a nurse at the private hospital where I had had my vasectomy after my then wife gave birth to my third child, just knew too much.
The shots arrived, we each took one and downed it.
"Thank you," I said, "the most important thing now is me earning enough money to keep those kids fed and clothed. They're my life."
"That's good, you're a proper dad. Anyway, I'd best get these to the girls but before I do, give me your phone a sec."
Olivia typed her number in and saved it under xOx **LIV** xOx.
"Call me!" she shouted back.
As I looked at what she'd typed and watched her gyrate away with the tray, I felt my dick start to harden. I turned to the bar and asked for another pint of bitter and waited for my trouser anomaly to sort itself out.
*
I called the following day during my lunchbreak. I sort of knew I should've played it a little cooler. This may be nothing like I imagine. She may have copped off with some young fellow student who would be in for the night of his life, no doubt.
"Hello, Olivia, it's me, John. You gave me your number, was there something you wanted to talk about? Everything OK at home? I guess it could be useful, me living here in case you needed a lift home quickly."
"Hi, John. Thanks for calling me, no, it was nothing in particular. I just thought it'd be nice to keep in touch."
"Of course, did you and the girls have a good night last night."
"Oh, yes, we continued the crawl into town then staggered into Cagney's. I got home around 3am, I've missed lectures this morning."
"Any sport for you, this afternoon? It's a Wednesday."
"I do play netball but for Westheath, not the Uni, so we play at the weekend. D'you wanna get some breakfast? "
"It'll be lunch for me, but yeah. Can you get to the admin building car park? I can be there in 30 minutes, the traffic's light."
Knowing what I knew of my intentions, I drove with an erection the whole way from the city to campus. As I pulled into the University admin complex I could see Olivia stood under the cedar tree. She wore sunglasses, a loose, white blouse over faded jeans tucked into ankle boots. I pulled alongside her,
"Can I give you a ride, miss?"
"You stay there, I'll get the door myself then. You're not the gent I thought you were." she smiled, belying her apparent displeasure.
"I'm getting you lunch aren't I?"
As we drove, Olivia spoke about her other sisters. Olivia's mum, no more than 15 years older than myself was now grandmother to 10, so productive were these Flannery girls.
"She thinks I'll complete the footie team. I'm so determined not to."
We didn't have to drive very far before we reached the nearest chain pub. Olivia ordered Mixed Grill and a pint of lager. I just had a coke and a burger, left the fries, so nervous was I, despite the erection having thankfully subsided.
"So, are you not seeing anyone, then?" I asked, and then, needing to explain myself "you know with this fear of being caught pregnant, are you steering clear of the lads?".
"It happens occasionally but I don't let them get close, so if we do get intimate, it's always with condoms, it's nice but.. you don't mind me telling you this do you?"
"It's OK, carry on but you might want to try not to be overheard."
"Well, I do enjoy the cum part, when he cums, inside me and that feeling afterwards as it makes its way back out again and then I like to massage my labia with the combination of our juices and before I know it I'm getting off again but with our family's fertility rate it's like fucking Russian Roulette."
"God, you're a scream, girl. We'd barely spoken before last night."
"I know but, I know a little about you, from back home. I know that you got a vasectomy before you and Samantha separated. I know you live here now, like a monk. I reckon you must have balls full of semen and no swimmers amongst them to knock one of my girls up."
"Straight talking, I like it but what do we do about it?"
"Take me back to campus. It's quiet Wednesday afternoons, people either playing sports or off on excursions."
So that was how Olivia first broached the subject of no strings attached sex with a neighbour acquaintance twice her age.
My trousers started tenting as we strode hand in hand towards my car. The bulge would've been plain to see and it bent painfully in my jeans as I dropped into the seat. I couldn't park on campus so I dropped her at the admin building and dumped the car on the residential estate across the road. I must've got to her block just 5 minutes behind her. I knocked on S5E and the door opened to reveal Olivia in a Chinese pattern silk gown. Christ, she looked good and suddenly also very young.
"I thought you wouldn't want me fully undressed. I know how you boys like to struggle with our undergarments."
As we embraced and kissed she wiggled me inside the room to allow the door to close behind us. We kissed passionately as she unfastened my belt, then pulled my shirt out of the top of the jeans. I felt two shirt buttons pop off, so broke off our embrace to remove it fully without further damage. Olivia stooped to unbutton my jeans and the top of my knob protruded through the top of my slips, precum glistening in the sunlight bedazzled boudoir.
"Mmmm. Maybe later, for now, just get that thing inside me."
Olivia's gown fell away easily to reveal standard M&S lingerie, they cater so well for Britain's buxom girls. I glanced down at her soft, flat belly over the knickers of a nice enough everyday set as I whipped off my shoes and socks and pulled my jeans down over my bare feet. Stiffy pointing proudly skywards, I approached her again and pressed myself into her ample curves, resuming our necking with increased passion. Hands now free, I worked on that clasp, I was going to get my hands and lips on a pair of those famous Flannery girls' knockers, finally, at my age and with baby Olivia of all of them. I had to break off the delicious tongue tangling briefly to mutter "let me take a look at you, girl." As I lifted the cups away, the splendid orbs bounced, rather than dropped or sagged as I had anticipated. Truly gravity defying. Her areolas were much smaller than I'd imagined just last night, for the first time. Her nipples were thinner and shorter but stiff, as they were at that moment, enough for even my adult mouth to latch onto.
"Come on, I told you what I want!" Olivia demanded impatiently.
I displayed the fact that her impatience had piqued me by roughly grabbing the cunt I would be fucking soon enough.
"I can see you're ready. Get those knickers off!"
