Chapter 2 Free to play
Two days later Sophie approached me during a coffee break and started to apologise. She tried to explain.
"I'm sorry you weren't prepared for that orgy thing. I quite enjoy a change of partners during a sex session like that. I thought you would too."
"I just thought Paul and I were made for each other. Will I ever see him again?" I asked my.
"I'm seeing Jim next Saturday and I'll find out for you then," Sophie promised me.
When I met me on the following Monday, I had bad news for me. Paul had been called home to Antigua by illness in the family. Jim hadn't been too sure of all the details but it seemed that his mother was very ill and Paul was needed as a provider, and to help look after the other children.
I felt a wave of regret at not being able to sort things out with Paul now. There had been a spark of something good between us that I had never felt with anyone else. It was such a pity we had parted as we did and now it was too late. Later when I was in bed in the dark I thought about him and wept quietly.
It was several weeks before Sophie could get me to go out. Eventually I was persuaded to go to a party given by some Italians. It was a noisy, cheerful party and after a night spent dancing, singing and drinking a quantity of Lambrusco, I found myself being assisted up the stairs by an attractive young engineering student called Roberto. We had danced together several times and Roberto had openly stated his desire for sex with me, as well as demonstrating it by pressing his erection against my 'mound of Venus' in every slow dance. He had made me laugh with his amusing line of chat as well. So when we got into an empty bedroom, I did not resist as Roberto assisted me out of my dress, and into the bed, where he joined me as soon as he could shed his own clothes. He kissed me and fondled my breasts, then took my hand and guided it onto his cock as I wriggled out of my knickers.
"How do you fancy that then?" he asked me, as his hand went between my legs to feel the wetness of my vagina.
"It's a lovely, big, stiff cock" I agreed.
"Just right to fit into your luscious wet cunt, Helen? And give you a damn good shag?" he suggested.
Caught in a sudden rush of desire, I urged him,"Of course it is! Come on, Roberto, hurry up, get it into me before I change my mind!"
He thrust his swollen cock up between my open legs into my warm wetness and we worked in unison until he came. To my delight, he carried straight on, and I soon had my own first come.
"That's lovely, Roberto!" I laughed as I told him.
"I felt you needed a damn good fuck," he replied smiling. Roberto was an expert lover and I enjoyed a long string of orgasms. Occasionally we rested, but never for long. We were still going strong at dawn. Roberto went downstairs and came back with some hot chocolate. We sat up in bed together and drank it.
"That will help you get some sleep, Helen. Me too! I must have fucked you nine times and I'm absolutely whacked. I reckon you had two or three orgasms to my one, which means that you must have come nearly thirty times. I've never been with a girl who enjoyed being fucked as much as you do, you gorgeous little sex-pot!" Roberto told me.
I grinned at him; "I was feeling a bit down last night. I was fed up with the world in general and men in particular. You cheered me up and made me laugh. So I decided I might as well let you fuck me as a reward. You were such a good lover I found I was enjoying it a lot. I was always told Italians made good lovers. If they are all like you, I'll have to emigrate! Now let's cuddle up and get some sleep."
I saw Roberto casually for several weeks, and although we enjoyed each other's company, as well as the sex, neither of us wanted to take the relationship further. Being good friends who enjoyed the occasional shag together was enough.
Roberto shared his flat with two other Italians called Leo and Luigi. It was at a party at their flat that Leo introduced me to another Italian, a swarthy good-looking forty something year old called Salvatore Khassab. He was Roberto insisted, not a true Italian, although he spoke the language fluently enough. Apparently Italians with names like that usually hailed from Malta. Solly, as they called him, had studied film making in Italy before coming to London. When he shook my hand I noticed the slight pudginess which suggested he would run to fat in later life. He held up his hands in front of his eyes as if he was looking at me through a camera's viewfinder.
"The camera could be quite kind to you, Helen. You must come and do a test for me some time" he told me. I thought it was just the usual sort of chat up line that men like Solly would give a girl at a party, so I regarded it more as a gambit to get me into bed, than an actual invitation to a film test. He did dance with me a couple of times and I found him to be a pretty good dancer, but I ended up staying the night in bed with Roberto, where I was happy not to get too much sleep.
Two days later, Sylvia asked me to come over to see her and Veronica again. Suspecting another game of strip poker, I put on some smart underwear and, this time I didn't wear two of anything except, of course my stockings and shoes. When I got to Sylvia's place, she and Veronica were handing drinks out to three black men.