Laura's tale
I suppose I was lucky to have made two such good friends. Veronica, Vee, and Geraldine, Gerry, who sort of took me under their wing as it were when I started nursing. I was, at eighteen, a pretty, blue eyed blond virgin.
Vee and Gerry were both fairly free with the sex. They said that if they liked a guy, they saw nothing wrong in enjoying a good fuck with him. That was not such an uncommon attitude in the mid-sixties.
I always said no to sex. It was just the way I thought young ladies should behave. Obviously I wasn't in tune with the times. It wasn't as if I was a complete virgin. Boys I had petted with had fingered me to the point where my maidenhead was long gone. But I had never had a boy's penis right inside me, despite a deal of curiosity on my part. The one or two youths who had gotten my consent to try never managed to hold on long enough to get their cocks into my vagina before they came -- usually making an awful mess of my clothes!
My name is Laura. I came from a good middle class home with loving parents who I respected.
Not being academically bright, my mother had recommended nursing.
My friends, Vee and Gerry, took me out to parties and tried to hook me up with likely looking lads. But I couldn't work up any enthusiasm for them. They only seemed interested in one thing, so I turned them all down.
When I was eighteen and a half, or as Gerry put it, on my eighteen and a half birthday, they made a date for me.
"Actually it's for all three of us," Vee explained.
I took a nice long scented bath, put on my best white satin panties, garter belt and bra and opened a new pair of sheer nylons. I couldn't find a clean blouse so Vee lent me one of hers. It was a white nylon see-through that left nothing secret about my bra.
When I protested to her Vee replied, "At least you've got a very pretty bra Laura. I think it's a shame to hide that sort of thing away all the time!"
I also wore a tight black velvet skirt and black high heels.
They took me in a taxi to what seemed a rather seedy part of town. Then we entered a gloomy sort of night-club.
We sat at a table and were served drinks by a sardonic waiter. Three gin and tonics.
I asked my companions to show me where the men were.
Then a lady in her mid-thirties approached us,
"I'm Sarah," she introduced herself, "Come with me."
She led us up some stairs to a large, bright, well furnished room.
"This is Matt. This is Joe and this is Mike," she went on, "and here are Vee, Gerry and Laura."
My mouth was open. I had just been introduced to three black men.
Vee and Gerry started dancing with Matt and Mike. Of the three, Joe had the darkest skin, almost jet black. We started talking and he told me he was over here from a small West African country, Gambia, working as a diplomat. He said he wanted to stay here and study law. He seemed very pleasant, but there was no way I was going to have sex with a black man. Even one who was good looking, well-dressed, polite and intelligent