A Game Of Consequences Ch 12

Chapter 12 - The Great Outdoors

The next morning, we stumbled downstairs around nine-thirty. At around eight, Phoebe had woken me by straddling my face. We moved easily into a delightful sixty-nine and gave each other a liquid breakfast - and an orgasm each - before cleaning up, cuddling and kissing for a while, and finally getting dressed and heading down to the dining room.

Alison was in the kitchen, preparing something for later in the day, and looked rather hot, bra-less in a T-shirt and tight jeans. I could see why Roger had married her, but it wasn't really for me to appraise the sexual attractiveness of my girlfriend's mother, even though I found it hard not to visualise what she and her husband had been doing the night before. So I said "Good morning" and rapidly moved to helping myself to cereal and fruit. Watching my girlfriend's mother's arse in her tight jeans, and stealing the occasional glimpse of what Americans call 'pokies' as she moved around while I munched muesli, was probably inappropriate behaviour. (By which I mean admiring the pokies, not eating the muesli - though some people find that a bit odd).

So I tried to focus on Phoebe, opposite me at the table. Her quirky beauty was beginning to captivate me. She seemed unable to stop talking - about what we'd seen the day before, about what we might do later that day, about thoughts and plans for Oxford. Her unusual features were highly animated, her large eyes flitting back and forth, behind her big glasses, as she ate and talked. I kept looking at her full lips and couldn't help recalling the many times I'd emptied my cock between them.

Later, Phoebe insisted we go for a walk. She put on some tight-fitting shorts, a T-shirt and walking boots. I replaced my trainers with boots and we crossed the family garden and entered some woodland, following a few well-beaten paths. We must have walked for over an hour, stopping occasionally so Phoebe could point out plants, trees, birds and insects I'd never seen before. She seemed very knowledgeable and passionate about nature, and very different from the insatiable nymphomaniac I'd fucked repeatedly over the preceding 36 hours.

We passed through a couple of gates, and I asked her if we'd now gone into public woodland. "Oh, no, this is all ours. We have around eight acres, but there's a public right of way going through one bit."

She stopped to point out some delightful wildflowers in one of the clearings and to listen to birdsong. And all the while my head was spinning. 'Yeah,' I thought, 'Of course it's all theirs. It's part of their lifestyle: the huge house, the big new car, the acres of land, the trophy wife, the private education, the ballet, the skiing - all of it.' And I felt rather dejected, like I was at the opposite end of the social spectrum, living in a small semi with my parents, taking the bus to the local Grammar school, scraping together the money to go to Rome with my class. But I tried not to show my unease to my enthusiastic companion as she breezily showed me around this part of her father's estate.

And then we emerged into a clearing, and in front of us was a treehouse. I'd seen treehouses before; generally ramshackle affairs put together out of bits of scrap by school friends in places they shouldn't have been and defying every piece of health and safety legislation in existence - and there wasn't even that much health and safety back in the late 1980s. But this - this was something else entirely. It had

walls,

made of nicely-crafted tongue-and-groove planking, a sloping felt roof and

glazed windows

! As I watched, Phoebe pulled on a rope, and a ladder - more like a flight of stairs - swung slowly down.

"Come on. I want to show you my sanctuary."

Given how much we'd fucked, it occurred to me that she'd already shown me her 'sanctuary' and I'd occupied it on many occasions, but I followed her long, slim legs and tight, boyish arse up into the room above. I guess I hadn't really noticed how muscular her legs were before but, now, close-up and in daylight, I could see what the ballet training had achieved. The effect was quite erotic.

The treehouse had been constructed by people who knew what they were doing. They'd chosen a very solid oak tree, with several branches, all at a similar height, and then adjusted the levels with well-placed supports. The structure surrounded the tree, with some branches running through it, but where they pierced the walls or roof, someone had fashioned some rubber seals to keep the rain - and small creatures - out. The floor was nicely boarded, and I was impressed that there were glass windows all around. But the ceiling was quite low, and I had to stoop to avoid hitting my head on some of the supports.

Maybe anticipating my questions, Phoebe explained. "I'd pestered Daddy to build me a den or a tree house for years. We moved here when I was ten, and he got some of his carpenters, who were waiting to start on a job that had been delayed, to design and build this for me. I've grown quite a bit since then, so the ceiling is rather low these days. The windows came from a building where they were being replaced with uPVC ones. The guys who built it - Pete, Alan and Jerry - were brilliant. I used to come and watch them working and chat with them. They said they enjoyed being able to make something that they'd designed themselves, and they put in all sorts of features. Like this."

She lifted the seat of a wide bench against one of the walls and pulled out some things from inside what turned out to be a large, low cupboard. There was a big plastic sack that contained a couple of roll-up mattresses - a bit like thick yoga mats, I guess - and a sealed plastic box. "It doesn't really get wet in here, but sometimes insects and spiders and things wander in, so I keep anything important in something waterproof."

She put the lid down, unrolled a mattress along the bench and sat down, motioning me to sit beside her. Then she opened the box and extracted a couple of paperbacks - and, somewhat to my surprise, a pornographic magazine. It was entitled "New Cunts". The cover showed a very attractive blonde, legs spread to show her hairless pussy - only the second such that I'd seen - and holding a guy's erect cock, clearly about to suck it. This was on the

cover

! Now, back in the eighties, hard-core porn was - well, hard to come by. There were plenty of girlie mags - Penthouse, Mayfair, Club International, etc - that places like WH Smith stocked on the top shelf. Inside, they had pictures of girls in various poses, including with their legs spread, but at that time I'd never encountered any showing bald pussies. And the front cover always had a semi-clad babe in swimwear, lingerie or provocative clothing; never any explicit nudity. This magazine was very different from anything I'd seen before.

"You wanted to know how I got to be such a slut."

"That's not what I asked..." I began.

"So this is part of the story; I suppose it was the beginning. I shared a dorm room with three other girls; Alethia, Beatrice and Sophie. My friend Sophie went home for a weekend and came back with this. I'm currently borrowing it from her because I wanted to show you."

I reflected that none of the girls in my class were called Alethia, Beatrice or Sophie. 'A different world', I thought. Oh, and none seemed to have access to hardcore porn - or at least, not that they shared with me.

"So where did she get it?"

"Well, she said she was in her father's office when he was away on business, looking for some paper to write a letter. She opened a drawer in his desk, and there was a big pile of trade magazines, but she noticed something interesting poking out from underneath them, at the bottom of the drawer. She took out the boring stuff and there was a big pile of pornography. Her father travels to Europe a lot for his work, and he must have bought hardcore porn magazines while he was there. She said there were maybe a dozen, so she took a couple - this one and another called 'Private' - and then carefully put the trade journals back on top. She thought that he probably wouldn't notice if one or two were missing and, even if he did, he could hardly ask his wife and daughter if they'd taken some of his porn collection."

She opened the magazine at a random page. The pictures were explicit - and highly arousing. The blonde from the cover was getting fucked in different positions, and there were captions in three languages - English, French and German - apparently describing the action. The text was as explicit as the pictures. '

Ever since you've shaved your quim, it's as if I've had a permanent hard-on'

. I could understand that. '

Barbara stopped fellating him, lay back, opened her legs invitingly and said "Come on, darling, fuck me! Fill my hole with your beautiful cock!"'

And '

He felt quite ready to enjoy the exquisitely smooth feeling of his girlfriend's exquisite little cunt.'

"So, after lights out on the following Monday, Sophie passed this around. At first, we were shocked; and then excited. I think all of us frigged ourselves off when our lights finally went out - I know I did, remembering those pictures. And the men were surprisingly good-looking - not the stereotypical porn actors with moustaches and beer bellies. They were mostly as fit and attractive as the women."

I could see what she meant. Years later, I saw some porn starring Ron Jeremy and wondered how the hell ugly guys like him had ever been successful in the porn industry.

"But as I said, there was another magazine called 'Private'. It was similar, but it seemed that almost every photo sequence ended up with the girl - or girls - getting sodomised. Some were getting what I believe they call 'double penetrated', with a cock or a dildo in both holes. We were intrigued by this. It looked terribly naughty and exciting, but we all thought that it surely must hurt."

"Well, it doesn't need to..." I began, but Phoebe seemed determined to continue.

"Anyway, we agreed on a challenge - for all of us to do something else naughty and share it. The next weekend, Alethia came back from a home visit with a collection of 'Black Lace' books."

"Yes, I've seen them. We sell them in WH Smiths."

"Well, Alethia had chosen some particularly steamy ones, and she read them out to us, and we were all masturbating like crazy. Look, here's one that she lent me!"

She opened a paperback with the title "

Thomasina Brown's Schooldays

." It appeared to be an erotic pastiche of "Tom Brown's Schooldays" by Thomas Hughes - something that most of us had read in Primary School. I flicked through it. Hughes's book was nothing like this. It was crammed with sex scenes. The plot, such as it was, involved a teacher called Mr Fleshman (subtle, eh?) at an exclusive girls' boarding school, deflowering any girl over eighteen - even back then, they were careful about being banned - with the help of some of the other girls. There was lesbianism, fetishism, masturbation, BDSM, lots of oral and vaginal sex - and also some sodomy, which - scanning to the later chapters - it seems Thomasina, the heroine, comes to enjoy and crave. And the language was just as explicit as in New Cunts. '

His huge cock plunged deep into her liquid cunt, forcing the tight tube open and stimulating pleasure centres she'd never imagined existed

.

He fucked her hard and deep for several minutes. Then he pulled out and started to work that huge rod of flesh into her tight arsehole.'

"Well, of course, we shy virgins were amazed and excited by it all. One night, we were all lying in our beds as Alethia read out a particularly raunchy passage. Then she stopped and said 'Anyone who's not masturbating right now, raise your hand!' We all giggled nervously. Then she said 'Very well, girls, let me see. If we're wanking, I think we should be open about it.' And she threw off her bedclothes and sat up. She was holding the book in one hand and the fingers of the other were between her legs. Then Sophie joined in, so Alethia and I felt we had to do it too. And it was

sooo

deliciously naughty, sitting there with my legs parted, stroking my clit, and watching all my friends doing the same."

I imagined four girls, all wanking and watching each other. I've since seen porn like that. But this particular porn episode was entirely in my head - and it was very arousing.

"Then Sophie said, 'Let's see who can make themselves come quickest. No cheating!' And strangely, it was Alethia who came first, falling back onto her bed, moaning and with her legs shaking."

I was struggling with the hard-on in my shorts, still looking at the highly explicit pictures in the magazine and listening to Phoebe talking about - and picturing in my head - her and three other eighteen-year-old posh girls masturbating openly in front of each other.

"So then we started making up our own stories, and we'd compete to see who could write the filthiest one. We made sure we used words like

cock, fuck

and

cunt

a lot; words - and situations - that would have appalled us just a few weeks earlier. We'd create some very explicit, pornographic stories, and then we'd read them out and openly masturbate in front of each other. It was wild."

"I can imagine," I said. And I could. I definitely could.

"So then Beatrice turned up with a vibrator. It seemed quite big and shaped like a cock. If we hadn't seen pictures in the porn magazines, we'd have thought they'd made it extra-large. And that first night, she masturbated with it, and we all watched."

By now my shorts were about to burst open. I surreptitiously pointed my erection sideways to try to relieve the pressure.

"She didn't just put it on her clit; she totally fucked herself with it, with her legs wide open, while we watched! After she'd come, she offered it to all of us. I watched Sophie use it, and I was so wet my juices were running down my legs. I just had to try it. I had my own vibrator - Sophie had given it to me for my 18

th

birthday. It wasn't as big as hers, and I'd only ever used it on my clit, but I got it out, turned it on, rubbed it around in my slit to get it wet - I almost came - and then slid it inside me, with the other three watching me. It was completely wild and depraved - and thrilling. I absolutely loved it. I could feel this big thing - or, at least, it felt big back then - stretching out my little hole, and the vibrations in there, especially against my G-spot, were so intense. It didn't take me long to come, because a lot of the excitement was in my head. I felt I was becoming a total slut, like Thomasina in the book, and it made me so horny just thinking about it. The next weekend, I came home, went into town and bought myself two more vibrators - a big one and a little one. And I still use them. And my 'naughty task' was to use both of them on myself, one inside and one on my clit, while the others watched. It was so exciting I came within a minute."

I'd been leafing through the paperback while she'd been talking. When I looked down, I realised that she'd unfastened her shorts and her hand was down inside them.

"Hey, let me help you with that."

I dropped the book, knelt on the floor in front of her and pulled the tight garment down her skinny legs, pausing briefly to unlace her boots and take them off. Underneath her shorts, she was wearing quite ordinary white panties, but there was a big wet patch in the crotch. I slid them off and instinctively dipped my head between her spread legs. She grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face hard against her wet silkiness. I struggled to get my tongue to travel around, as she was holding my head in so tightly, but when I fastened onto her clit and started slurping enthusiastically, she responded by bucking her hips and pushing hard against my mouth. I managed to get a finger up her cunt, found her G-spot, and in less than a minute I had her writhing and moaning joyously.

As she slumped back, I didn't even ask about what to do next. My free hand had already found the condom tucked into my pocket. Once I'd extracted my finger from her tight, overflowing cunt, all I had to do was pull my jeans and pants down, tear open the wrapper and apply the rubber in what was by now a well-practised manner. And then I was leaning over her, and her legs were wide open, and she mouthed the word '

please?

' before I found the hole and filled it. She let out a high-pitched squeal, then locked her legs around my waist and pressed her wet little slit tightly up against my body with my cock sheathed inside.

We were kissing and writhing around, first with me bent over her as she slumped back against the seat, then twisting around so that she was lying along the bench with me kneeling between her legs. We were both moaning and gasping as I fucked her hard - perhaps harder than I'd intended. Her arms were initially around my shoulders, but then she slid one hand down to her pussy and started rubbing her clit as I pounded away. And she just kept gasping "Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Never one to disappoint a lady - or even a slut - I did as she asked. She came again, just before I did. As my cock finally stopped throbbing, I realised that I'd been making a loud, roaring noise, and idly wondered whether the sound carried as far as the house.

After our frantic fuck in the treehouse, it took us a few minutes to get our breath back. We cleaned up with some wipes that were in the box with the books and magazine; she explained that she sometimes came there to masturbate, as nobody could walk in on her. We went back to the house, where Alison had left some sandwiches for us.

"She works part-time at an estate agent's in Leamington," Phoebe explained. "So we have the house to ourselves..."

Phoebe's legs looked great in stockings and suspenders, which framed her bald pussy and the keyhole-shaped dimple in the front of her slit erotically. Her pigtails, tiny tits and big eyes made her look younger, but the way she knelt down and sucked my cock seemed much more mature. I was sitting, naked, on a chair in her bedroom, my arms handcuffed behind the chair back. The position was a bit uncomfortable, but Phoebe obviously liked the idea of restraints - though she showed none herself. She sucked me enthusiastically and almost as deep as Sharon had, and her wider-than-average mouth seemed perfect to accommodate my average-sized cock.

"I'm - I'm going to come!" I moaned. And she suddenly stopped, freed my twitching cock and stood up. I growled with frustration.

"My turn," she said with some conviction, tottering to the side of my chair on the insanely high heels she was wearing. It was quite difficult, twisting around so I could lick her already-juicy pussy, so after a couple of minutes, she released my arms from the cuffs. My tongue and both hands were then able to get into play, as I devoured her clit and finger-fucked both holes with some enthusiasm.

And, with considerable enthusiasm and a lot of loud screeching and moaning, she came. Whereupon I lifted and dragged her to straddle my lap and slide down onto my cock.

"Don't come in me!" she hissed, before starting to bounce enthusiastically on my rock-hard organ. I got a finger onto her clit, and insinuated another up her arse as she fucked me; yes, she was doing all the work.

"Now!" I gasped as I realised I could hold on no longer. She slithered off me and knelt before me again, covering my aching dick with her mouth just as I unleashed for the second time that day. And, perfect slut that she was, Phoebe swallowed my entire load.

"Now me!" she demanded, lying back on the floor and spreading her stockinged-and-heeled legs as wide as only she could. I muff-dived - except that there was no muff - inserted my fingers once again into both sockets and completed her orgasmic journey in little more than a couple of minutes.