Pete has got Trudy over the bean-bag now. Knees are still on the pillow. Tits are pushed downwards. Face is getting fed. He must have pushed her a little too hard, because her mascara is running slightly. He's eased off a little, but he's still the one in control. He's running his mouth as well. "Take it, you hot little slut."
Trudy's into all that. At least she can be if the action is up to snuff. His shirt has come off at some point. Did I say lanky? There's some muscle there for sure and just a little hair. Trudy's picked a winner even with the attitude.
I'm playing with Dave, but I want to be used by this guy.
As if sensing my yearning for them to be done, Pete starts moving his hips faster. His grip tightens on her head and then moves to her hair. His breathing becomes heavier.
Just as I think he's about to finish, he pulls a little bottle from his pocket, twists the lid off and takes a smell. His pace slackens just slightly and the lid goes back on. What was about to happen has clearly been delayed.
Poppers. That's a new one on me, and its not just not cricket. Artificially enhanced performance. The casual way he just did it as well too, without even fucking asking...
A moment later and he's on the move again. He comes behind Trudy and pulls her skirt down so it meets her knees on the floor. He gives her presented arse a firm slap, and then drops his own trousers. Next, her snatch gets an exploratory feel with one finger. "You're ready," he says beginning to line his cock up with her hole.
"Fuck no, she's not," I say quickly. "You fellas got rubbers?"
Pete shrugs. Amyl Nitrate but no condoms. Terrific. Why am I not surprised? Luckily, I always carry a pack of three. Usually two for Trudy and one in case hell freezes over. I'm not usually this forthright about getting what's owed me. I pull an individual packet off the reel and throw it across the room. Pete catches it, rips it open and suits up.
"Thanks, babe," said Trudy. Then she's being taken.
I climb off Dave. I want him to watch this. More, I want Trudy to know she is being watched. I want her to feel like a porn star. Question is how to arrange matters so that we're doing something more than just taking in the show. I could blow him again, but that's not moving things forwards. What the hell, I grab our own packet and a moment later I've made good use of the good old Sex Ed cucumber lesson. My knickers come off and I lie 180 degrees the wrong way on the bed, legs apart. I can turn my head and get a view of the action and I'm hoping Dave will see even more.
Except now the dozy git's cunt-struck. He's looking at me like he doesn't know what to do next. I wonder if he's a virgin because he never got the chance or if he bailed. I've put the fear of God into him. I grab his hand and pull him towards me. Then I reach between both our legs and guide him in. Then he has this look on his face, like a kid whose heard ice-cream tastes good but has never tried it until now. It's almost funny.
He leans in and kisses me. And I relent. Fine, vanilla then. He's enjoying the moment too much and so I am I. I've not exactly played hard to get, but its nice for me to be the centre of attention rather than Trudy for once. As predicted, he's crap, but crap in a nice way - endearingly clueless and rather sweet. He exactly doesn't last long, but then neither is he exactly a three pump chump. Given the circumstances, he's acquitted himself well.
When he comes he holds me tight and gives me a tender kiss. A moment later he rolls off, and then I hear the words "I'm so sorry." For a moment, I think its an apology for his performance but then I notice him frantically examining the broken condom. As I sit up, I feel that, sure enough, he's left me a present up there.
He's going spare and I'm laughing at him. "Don't worry, I'll sort it." I tell him. No lay in for me tomorrow then -- straight up the chemists. They know me by name, I've been in for Trudy enough times. And I guess, if it's going to happen, it's better it happens with the newbie. At least I don't have to worry about picking anything nasty up from him.
It's only once I've disposed of the failed prophylactic and wipes myself down with some tissue that I notice that Trudy and Pete have finished too. She's back lying between his legs and they're half-cuddling.
So suddenly there's a vibe. Post-coital obviously. Chilled. We sit back and I decide what the fuck. I open up a draw and pull out some weed. I hadn't planned on sharing, but seems we're having a moment.
So, as I'm halfway down my first roll-up, I'm having thoughts. Thoughts like my mouth has made promises my cunt is not sure it wants to keep. I've gone right off this Pete bloke. Mostly it's about how much more freaked out I would have been if the condom had broken when he'd been balls deep in me. He's clearly had a body count, and I'm now wondering who exactly -- Soho working girls? Maybe. Those male saunas or the Common? I wouldn't be amazed. Other easy lays like us? Undoubtedly.
Besides, I'm thinking this Dave isn't so bad, or at least he won't be once I train him up a bit. He can be my own pet project. I'll invite him back to my room and see what he looks like in the morning. Those dirty promises? Well, it's a woman's prerogative, isn't it? I'll laugh them up as a joke.
I get up to pee. This involves putting on enough clothes to get me to the public loos. I'm just finishing off when my phone goes. It's Becks asking if we're coming out clubbing. I have to say I'm surprised. I thought we'd made enough of an exit that the extended gang would know not to bother us. Seems not. She's drunk and wants to talk prior party drama and how amazing this place they're queueing up for is going to be. I let her yammer on for a while, fob her off and then make my exit.
When I get back to Trudy's room, the door's shut again. There's now electronic music blasting out. I knock normally and then a bit harder. I put my ear to the door to see if anyone is moving in my direction. Instead, I hear that they're at it again. Bastards started again without me!
Then I remember that I took the room key earlier. The door beeps and I see myself in. Sure enough, in my absence, Trudy has taken it on herself to take them both on. She's on all fours with Dave's cock in her mouth. Dave's got his eye's closed and is stroking the top of her head. Pete's behind her, though it's not immediately clear which hole he's in. She's making enough noise even with her mouth full that it's probably the other one.
So no-one's noticed me enter. I've still got my phone in my hand, so I open the camera up, hit record and grab about thirty seconds of pure pornography. No particular reason, and I'll probably decide to delete it in the morning.
Dave opens his eyes long enough to see me walk out of there. I shut the door and slide the key-card back under it.
I stand in the shared kitchen area right outside Trudy's room for a few minutes. Nominally, I'm taking a refreshing swig of orange juice, but really I'm just waiting to see if I'm worth enough that Dave comes after me. He won't know where my room is, so here's a real easy place for him to find me.
Once the bottle is finished. I head back to my room.
I open my phone again and send Becks a text message.
What's the talent like down there?
A few seconds later, she sends me a photos of the dance floor. Several of the guys have already gotten their shirts off. I hadn't recognized the name of the club, but the dΓ©cor is stirring vague memories of an evening right back at the start of term. It's a dive, but it was also a good time.
I send a text back:
Fuck it. See you in twenty.
I get an incoherent series of emojis back in response.
Then I stare at the phone for a good minute, trying to remember something. I set an alarm for eleven o'clock tomorrow morning with the message 'Plan B'.
Then I open my wardrobe and quickly pick out a whole new outfit.
After all, fuck Trudy.