I never tell people the truth of how I lost my virginity way back then. Not because it's embarrassing in any way, in fact, because it's the opposite. I never tell people because, by and large - certainly the men, anyway - by and large they'd think I was boasting. Or more probably making it up. So if I'm ever asked - and I rarely am, these days - I usually say 'well, it was with a fellow student I was at uni with'. Which is of course, only half true literally.
I was nineteen. And I think it's fair to say I was sexually frustrated. Very frustrated actually. I was studying a drama course, which meant that the women outnumbered the men four-to-one. Good odd, you'd think, right? You'd be wrong. Most of the girls were either in steady, committed relationships with boys at home, or they were knocking around with the jocks in the PE college next door. Or they were... experimenting in the ways of Sappho. Or fully committed to the ways of Sappho. Oh, I'd had a couple of fumbles...what you might call 'heavy petting'...at corridor parties. I'd even had a sort of girlfriend during my first month there. But neither had gone anywhere. Many of these young women had become good friends and that I didn't mind but the fact remained that I was a virgin and desperate to get my end away.
It just wasn't happening.
Two of the friends I'd made among the female population of our course were Rosie and Jenna. They were a couple. I wasn't sure if they were fully gay, or bi, but they lived together in a little cottage by the seafront of a nearby town. They were pretty much considered the coolest kids on campus. Jenna was a third year drama student and musician. She was tall and statuesque and was in the habit of wearing loose fitting print dresses. She had a guy's haircut, short back and sides, dark browin, longer on top and bleached blonde. She was definitely striking and she was forthright. Really attractive, but I was too in awe of her to really fancy her. She played the cello (really well as it happens) and when she did, you could see the passion she felt for the music.
Rosie, who was in my academic year, wasn't as tall. She was however, slim and petite of figure, short blonde hair and super pretty. Pretty enough to be a model - in fact doing the odd modelling job was how she supplemented her income. See what I mean when I said people would think I was boasting? They both had an extra touch of glamour in that Jenna's were from South Africa (radicals who'd to leave in the country a hurry, having fallen afoul of the apartheid government) and Rosie had been born in Australia. Her dad worked for the British diplomatic service and she'd pretty much grown up in a girls boarding school here in the UK. She too was studying drama and music, an excellent pianist.
I'd once seen them perform together at a department concert... I think it was a Delius piece. It was so intense, it was like watching them make love. After the concert, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what they did.
For a lad from suburban Hertfordshire, these girls, their backgrounds, their incredible personalities, their talents, seemed almost magical. Especially at a seaside town in Wales. It didn't do any harm that they were both sexy as hell to look at.
Anyway, it was the holidays, so I was at my parents home. It was just coming up to Christmas and I'd just failed my driving test for the third time. I was pretty miserable when Rosie had rung to see how I was doing. And when I told her, she said why didn't I come down on the train to see them at the cottage? Just for a few days. I didn't have much else on, which is how I found myself there, me in an armchair by the fire, Rosie and Jenna seated on the sofa together, Rosies' arm draped casually round Jenna's neck, drinking wine while I moaned about life in general.
They both liked to talk about sex a lot. Each telling stories about their various lovers (and yes, they used the word 'lovers'). And I was starting to feel a bit dishonest, because I was joining in the conversation as if I knew what the hell I was talking about. I was trying to be sophisticated, because to my mind, that's what they both were. Beautiful young women, who'd lived a bit. Done things. And I hadn't. Done things. I hadn't 'done' anything.
I still don't know how it came out. I said something about still being a virgin and they both looked at me.
'Really?' said Rosie. She looked quite perplexed.
'Yeah, most likely to remain so,' I said, grimly 'or that's what it feels like sometimes.'
'Don't be silly,' grinned Jenna, absently stroking her wine glass stem, 'it happens to everyone, eventually. My goodness, if I think back to my first time...'
She then recounted her story about her and an early boyfriend. How they'd bunked off school and gone back to her house, knowing her parents were out.
'...and so he's kissing my tits and I'm-... God, I was so wet, but I wanted him to take off my knickers for me...because I thought that was romantic...but he just didn't seem to be getting round to it, so I did in the end. And his...well his cock we really hard, by this point and he well-... he did get inside and thrust for about thirty seconds...and it was lovely, but speed was really too much of the essence...'
She burst into fits of giggles and Rosie joined in. I did as well sort of, but the fact was I had an image of myself kissing Jenna's breasts and then the removing of knickers and the thrusting. It was making me blush. There was some arousal in my crotch area. But the storytelling wasn't over. Rosie related her own initial experience.
'Oh god,' she drawled in her posh London boarding school accent,'I was in sixth form, so I'd have been eighteen - just. There was this girl, a couple of months older than me... I had this terrible crush on her, but of course, I was such a good girl. I wouldn't have dreamed of-...anyway....One night, in the dorms, I'm just dropping off, I'm half asleep and suddenly I realise there's someone in the bed with me. It's this girl Theresa and she's completely starkers! Which is absolutely verboten - nighties on at all times, girls, except in the shower. And she's kissing me and then she hoiks up my nightdress and she's working downwards, licking every bit of me...until she's well...'downstairs' and after the initial surprise, I realise I'm getting soooo turned on, right? There's like... a lake in my lap. And she's licking and licking and now she's got her hands on my breasts and she's squeezing...I have to tell you, when I came I had to grab my pillow to bite down on, because I'd have woken the whole school...'
Again, Rosie and Jenna dissolved into laughter and I tried to join in too, but the arousal in the crotch area was getting worse.
'Oh poor Pete,' said Jenna adjusting her position so that her head was resting in Rosie's lap, 'he looks really forlorn, don't you think?'
'He does,' said Rosie, tilting her head, slightly, 'he really does.'
She grinned.
They couldn't have been more different. Jenna, in her lumber shirt, would have looked almost masculine, of it weren't for her large breasts, straining at the seams. Jenna in a lacy white dress, slim and willowy, with straps leaving her shoulders almost bare, was epitome of femininity.
And I wasn't feeling forlorn. Well, not much. What I was feeling mainly, was horny. And these two young women were good friends, but after the images they'd put in my head, I couldn't dispel the fact that right now, I'd have done anything to fuck either of them.
It was getting late and we agreed it was time for bed. I was thinking, as we headed to our rooms, I was going to need to rub one out when I got to bed and hoped I'd got brought some tissues with me. They both kissed me tenderly good night and went into their bedroom. I went into mine and started to undress. I hadn't got tissues, I realised, so I wouldn't be able to masturbate - I didn't want stains on their nice clean sheets. I just had to wait for a bit and concentrate on something unsexy (television presenter Patrick Moore, I decided in this case) and wait for the bulge to go down, which it did. Eventually. I was sitting in bed, wearing only my underwear, just about to turn off the bedside light, when I heard Rosie's voice calling from across the hallway.
'Pete! Can you come here a second, darling?'
'Er well...I'm sort of in my pants!' I called back.
'Doesn't matter!'
'Pete!' this time it was Jenna's voice, 'come here now!'
And it was an order, not a request.
