Confessional

All references are to people who are over eighteen. Most names have been changed.

Growing up I was always introduced as Lucy, short for Lucinda the name of my Mum's...or was it Dad's great aunt. However, schoolfriends and those who had known me since my teen years all called me Liddy, because of my initials. That started when I spent four years in an all-girls boarding school in England, before returning to the States.

Why did my parents put me there? Because my father had a diplomatic posting to Europe and my mother was an English professor with a job in the US she was not prepared to sacrifice. She joined my father and me for vacations and I got to travel and see quite a lot of Europe and the UK. Did I love school? No. Did I hate it? No. I just lived through it. Along the way I made some good friends, whom I still see, and I think I got a good education. I certainly became a lot more 'world aware' than most of my contemporaries in the US.

Growing up I always wanted, and was encouraged, to write. However, although I have three novels, unpublished and in constant revision, I have a very necessary full-time job that I won't discuss here. I was married for five years before he cheated on me. I am now happy in a fulltime relationship but not ready to tie the knot again.

As you know what I mostly write now are erotic stories. I often like to include details of real places I have spent time in on either side of the Atlantic. Apart from that some are pure fantasy; most have elements of the truth but never 'the whole truth and nothing but the truth.' My husband and I enjoyed a vigorous sex life enlivened by shared fantasies. His favourites were 1) watching me being seduced and subsequently fucked by strangers in various settings and 2) of us making love on an almost deserted beach that became gradually more populated by pervs and voyeurs watching us, filming us, and masturbating as they moved closer.

I call these his fantasies because in origin they were, but we both enjoyed them. Our sex life was all the better for it, as long as any infidelity stayed in the realm of fantasy. When I found him fucking a work colleague, that was the end. I had taken our marriage vows seriously and had no tolerance for his breaking our oaths of life-long fidelity.

Before I met my current partner, I had a number of years outside a stable relationship and expanded my experiences and horizons and I regret none of these as I better understand the range of human sexuality. My current partner and I enjoy these and other fantasies and are more open in our thinking but do nothing without the other's full consent.

More on my background. Being at an all-girls school and vacationing with my parents I had few unrestricted encounters with boys. I do remember a 'show and don't tell' while swimming at Lake Como, but I was nineteen before I was in a world where boys and girls mixed as equals. I spent that summer back in the States working at McDonalds. I really didn't know anybody and felt quite out of place at first, but I did meet boys and they were these strange and wondrous creatures. For the most part they were polite but most liked to brag about themselves and hit on me.

I confess I liked the attention especially when I met a quieter boy who seemed more interested in me. That was when I first got intimate with a boy. We were soon kissing and moving through the bases until I was letting him fondle my breasts and I gripped my first erect cock. What a thrill! There was no way I was going to 'go all the way.' I was scared stiff of getting pregnant for one thing and also held onto the idea of being a virgin bride.

After a few dates, I did start giving him hand jobs and letting him touch my breasts. Once when he took me out in his dad's car, we parked, and I gave him head. I didn't enjoy it, it tasted hairy and smelly, and I vowed to give no more blowjobs, unless the guy showered or washed thoroughly first. A resolution I have stuck to ever since.

At the end of the summer, it was back to university in England. I had the necessary exams and anyway I felt more at home in Europe and loved that a whole world lay just a few hours away across the channel. This was the year before 9-11 and travel was cheaper and simpler. My parents were generous and supportive.

In my first term I fell into an easy existence of studying, visiting pubs, and going to dances and parties. Many of the boys who took me out tended to expect a hand job at the end of the evening. They'd often catch the cum in tissues or handkerchiefs, or in toilet paper they'd stored in their pockets in anticipation. I gathered from the British girls I hung out with that this was customary if you liked the boy and had had a nice time, and in many cases, if the evening had gone well and ended with kisses, I obliged.

Honestly, I liked the feel of guy's cocks and the sensation of bringing them off would get my juices flowing. I could sense their mounting excitement and the tightening of their ball sack as the moment approached. Mostly this happened in their cars if they had them. I learned early to point their cocks away from me as one time some cum landed on my skirt. Most guys shot what I would have guessed was two or maybe three tablespoons of cum, so I was quite surprised when one guy shot a first spurt that hit his windshield and dashboard and just kept spurting. He could have easily filled a cup, I think.

After a while I got a little braver and I allowed a few to feel me up, not just my nipples and bare breasts but inside my panties. I liked the feeling as they stroked my clit, but I did not let them penetrate me even with a finger. I was always worried as I started to feel I might lose control. I went out on several dates with a nice Scottish boy and one day we went for a drive in the country. We drove quite a way and parked and walked into a quiet clearing by a lake.

Although it was early November the air temperature was in the mid-sixties Fahrenheit and the sun was hot. He stripped off and jumped in the lake and dared me to do the same. Like an idiot I did so. Supposedly, it was fed by warm springs, but it was absolutely freezing. When we got out, he produced a towel from his backpack and rubbed me dry while he stood shivering. I dressed quickly as he towelled off.

As he pulled on his shirt and sweater, I looked at his shrivelled cock and shrunken balls and pushed him down on the ground. I massaged his balls while I sucked life into his cock. He was only the second boy to get a blowjob from me and the first I completed. I kept going until his balls almost vanished into his groin and he came in my mouth. I spat most of it but kept swirling a little round my mouth to decide if I liked the slightly bitter salty taste. It was all right. I have since found that cum can come in a variety of flavours; none I'd call real favorites.

Then four weeks before the winter break, I met Xavier. His background was quite similar to mine, although he was Canadian from Montreal. Like me he had had much of his schooling in England, and in his case, a little in France. He seemed such a kindred spirit understanding both sides of the Atlantic that we hit it off at once. He was athletic but something of an introvert, although he had established himself with a group of good friends. It was our fourth date before he kissed me. In fact, I kissed him, but he responded warmly, and things escalated quickly from there.

Before I met him, I had signed up for a ski trip to the Austrian Alps. It was too late for him to sign up and he had already committed to going home to Canada for Christmas. I did not tell him, but I had decided that, although I was not close to being ready to contemplate marriage, he was the one who would pluck my cherry when the new term began. For one thing I was tired of the 'goodie-goodie virgin' teasing from the other girls. I did not want to rush into it just as he was leaving, as it occurred to me it was quite possible, he was a virgin too, and we would have to take our time if we wanted to enjoy it.

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As we gathered at the Waterloo train station in London, there were literally dozens of students from assorted universities milling around on the platform, many wearing their ski wear and carrying ski bags and boots in addition to a regular suitcases or large duffel. As I was one of those planning to rent the necessary ski equipment on arrival at our destination, I was wearing my regular street clothes along with my newly acquired anorak or parka. My equally newly purchased ski pants, shirts and socks were packed in my suitcase with my other belongings.

Boarding the Eurostar train for the journey through the 'chunnel' to the continent was a new experience for me and I was somewhat nervous. My friend Jane and I had seats facing forward. Her boyfriend Sandy sat facing us with his back to the engine. Another young man who introduced himself as John sat beside Sandy. He was rather good looking and not at all shy and soon we were all swopping experiences. John, like Sandy was a second-year student, and had been on a similar trip before.

In the event the journey was less frightening than I had feared. Although the first section from London to the channel was rather slow, we were so busy talking that we were through the 'chunnel,' and out into the fields of France before we knew it. In Europe you crossed borders without even realizing and an hour or less later we were greeted by the lights of Brussels in the early evening winter dusk.

In Brussels we had time for a quick meal before climbing aboard a new train for the journey to the Austrian Alps. The carriages were already configured into sleeping compartments each with four bunks, an upper and a lower on either side. Nobody seemed to care about segregating the sexes. By now John was part of us and we four found a compartment to share. At first, we sat two by two on the lower bunks while we played cards, talked, and drank the two bottles of wine that John and Sandy had bought at the Brussels station.

I wasn't used to drinking much and found myself falling asleep. Then everyone decided it was time to get some sleep. After we all went to wash, pee, and clean our teeth, Jane and I took the lower bunks on either side while the boys took the top bunks. We weren't changing into pyjamas, but as it was warm, we did take off and fold our jackets and pants. It would be more comfortable sleeping under the blanket in our tops and underwear. I found it somewhat exciting to undress even if only slightly in the presence of these boys I barely knew.

Sleep came quickly but I woke quite early feeling a little chilly. It only took a minute for me to realize that at some point Sandy must have come down and slid into Jane's narrow bunk beside her. Perhaps he had just done so and that was what had woken me. There was a little whispering and fumbling movement and then a stillness before they started to move quietly and rhythmically. "Shit," I thought, "They're making out."

At least they weren't cold. I was lying there, party in shock and partly in envy, and getting mildly aroused when in the dim light I saw John's feet landing on my bunk on the way to the floor.

"He's going to the loo," was the thought that entered my mind but then he leaned in towards me. With a smile that was barely discernible in the darkness, and without a word, he lifted the blanket and slid in beside me. There really wasn't room to lie side by side and he was more on top of me. He leaned in and kissed me, and I felt his underwear against my bare leg. I reached out and my hand closed on fabric and within that a rapidly stiffening penis. I held it and my breath for a second and then let both go.

He continued to kiss me and caress my breasts. I found my hand had slid under the waistband of his underwear and I was slowly stroking him. I was conscious that this was something beyond my experience, but as we continued to kiss and his hand rubbed across my panties, I was not about to stop. He was the one to move my hand from his hard penis. He pressed something into my hand as he rocked back on his calves and let out a muffled "Fuck!" when his head came in contact with the upper bunk.

I was aware of his shuffling, as I realized I was holding a wrapped condom in my hand. Memories of a 'sex ed' class full of embarrassed laughter as we girls in turn unrolled one over a dummy penis went through my head. It was the only other time I had ever held one.

I don't know what he expected but I quickly handed it back to him. I heard him tear the wrapper and after a moment I felt his body above me again. I reached forward and my hand immediately found his condom cloaked penis. Instinctively my forefinger and thumb closed on the little bubble at the tip as we had been instructed to do to make sure there was no air trapped in it. His underwear was gone, and he reached forward and pushed my panties to one side. I was terrified and desperately aroused.

A finger brushed up and down my clitoris and the thrill ran up my spine. It touched the wetness of my opening cunt. Yes, I knew the "c" word. I'd read "Lady Chatterley" and heard it enough. It wasn't part of my vocabulary, but it was the word that was in my head now. I raised my bum slightly as he pulled my dampened panties down my legs. They came off one foot and were left dangling from the other ankle. If consent is conveyed by an almost silent intake of breath and the spreading of my legs, then he had my consent and he took it as such.

Stroking my clit again he pushed the tip of his penis into me. He raised himself on his elbows and pushed forward meeting resistance. I felt rather than heard the 'pop' of my hymen and an instant of pain as his pursued his gentle assault. I was transported by the rhythmic whisper of the train over the rails and the faint sounds of sex from the bunk opposite into a James Bond moment as this complete stranger continued to push his cock into me.

I was on fire enjoying every new sensation. My whole being was absorbed in the feeling of my virgin vagina adjusting to his girth. He was long enough to lightly touch what I later learned was my cervix. I remembered his stiff cock had felt quite long and thick in the darkness. I was aware of the sounds of someone's muffled climax from the other bunk as I revelled in the eroticism of my situation. I have had very few orgasms brought on by a penis alone, but I was so full of anticipation that this was one of them. I know John felt it as my whole body was wracked by spasms and my muscles tightened around him.

His movements speeded up as I pulled my knees up to grip his waist and my feet started drumming on the backs of his thighs. He didn't last much longer, and a second orgasm shook me as I felt his climax. I don't think I shouted, but I was definitely louder than our companions. To this day I'm not sure, but I think John uttered some expletive too.

He collapsed on me for a minute or two as his penis shrank. Then he pulled back and retrieved the condom which had come off as he withdrew. I felt him pull its length out of me and sensed him tying a knot in it. I think he dropped it to the floor. I was vaguely aware that Sandy was climbing back to his upper bunk.

John and I must have dozed, for his weight was still on me, as I sensed his cock was hardening again. I reached out to confirm it and my legs parted as he slid into me again. I don't even think we were fully awake. The feeling of his naked cock was different, so much better in fact, and I knew that we...I ...should not be doing this, but then a thrill passed through me, and I felt the feelings build again.

As he came fully awake, he raised himself on his arms again and moved them outside my thighs raising my legs to his shoulders. My outstretched toes brushed the bottom of the upper bunk as he continued his gentle thrusting. There was a sharp intake of breath from the bunk opposite. The early dawn light was leaking around the edge of the blind and I sensed Jane must be watching. The blanket had fallen to the floor, and even if dimly, everything must be on display.

A sense of shame and excitement filled me as I felt her eyes upon me. I was not mistaken because my hearing was acute, and although I could hear Sandy's steady breathing as he slept peacefully in the upper bunk opposite, I could also hear Jane starting to masturbate as she watched us. That made the whole situation even sexier. I don't think John knew as he kept an even pace, but another orgasm swept through me, and I bit my lip. He just kept going. He must have felt that one too, but he was now intent on reaching his own climax which was not coming as quickly.

My unaccustomed inner thighs were beginning to chafe as he lifted his whole body on his toes and outstretched arms and went into the final sprint. He audibly grunted as I felt his cum fill the depths of me. That wasn't good. My periods had always been light, and I wasn't on the pill or anything. I should have... could I have...it was all too late. All I could do was hope. I decided I should not tell him. It was not his problem; he wasn't to know.

Then he slid off me, stood up and pulled on his underwear. He must have picked up the condom and he slipped out into the corridor. My hand went to my still pulsing 'vag' and explored the wetness there. I was leaking cum, and I sat up and pulled a tissue from my jeans pocket and shoved it into my dripping hole. There was now no sound from the bunk opposite. A moment later John returned, leaned in, and gave me a kiss and put the blanket on me before climbing back to the top bunk. I lay there in shocked amazement as my excitement subsided. After a few minutes I heard the sound of the light breathing of sleep from the bunk above and thought I will never sleep again.

I was shaken awake by Jane to the sounds of an announcement saying something in German and then "We will be arriving at Kitzbuhl in ten minutes."

The others were already up, and I hurried unsuccessfully to pull up my panties under the blanket, but the one side was hooked between my toes. With no time to spare I stood up exposing my nudity, unhooked them and pulled them on, and then pulled on my jeans. I fixed my bra and pulled my shirt back on. I did not remember when it had come off. I put on my boots and anorak and took hold of my suitcase as the train slowed and I followed the others into the corridor. My last glance back showed an unmade bunk and a bottom sheet in disarray with obvious traces of blood and cum on it. I was filled with shame and prayed the others did not notice.

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When we arrived at our 'pension' John and Sandy were assigned one bedroom and Jane and I another. Each room just had a double bed with a big down duvet and a bolster to put down the middle to give us each our own space. Instead, John and I had one room and Jane and Sandy the other. John and I had sex another six times that week, sadly but of necessity, it was always with a condom. I even found a use for the bolster as I placed it under my butt to give him deeper access. As it was too cold to open the windows the whole room began to smell of sex. While this was mildly disgusting it was also highly arousing.

All in all, with the skiing and partying the week was a great success, even if I felt a little sleep deprived by the end. On the last night Jane joined me in bed and the boys were back in their room. We were mostly packed and had an early train to catch in the morning. I was just in a waking doze when I felt a hand on my thigh. Jane had wrapped herself in the duvet and I was lying naked. I felt his weight as he climbed on the bed between my legs and his hard cock pressed into me.

I was starting to respond when I felt something was wrong. There was no condom and his cock felt different. I opened my eyes to find Sandy on top of me.