Everything here is true and it is as my wife told me about the time she went up to University in the 1960's.
My name is Patricia Muriel and when I went up to University in 1969 I was still a nineteen year old virgin, but my mother was far seeing and put me on the birth control pill and told me to enjoy myself.
During Fresher's week I easily managed to do the inevitable and get myself well and truly shagged. I then wondered what all the fuss was about. It was not the mind blowing experience that I was led to believe; to be honest I felt disappointed. I tried a couple of boys and although it was nice there was no earth shattering moments.
I hung around with another girl, Kath. She was a large girl, amazon in feature but not really attractive, and together we hit the social life.
Let me tell you what I was like then. I was about five foot seven inches with long shapely legs (my best feature especially with a heel), curvy body with 36B breasts with erect nipples, especially when I was excited. Some say I was pretty but I had a snub nose and these eyes that could laugh when I wished them . I was always the "tom-boy" and could hold my own with any male. Some say I was a tease for at times I liked to flaunt my body or parts of it to any male in the vicinity. When I knew they were looking was the time that my eyes and face gave that knowing smile. I wore short miniskirts or dresses and my favourite pose was to sitting on the floor and should there be a male opposite then I would gradually part my thighs so he could see my pure white panties pulled into my vagina. I did not care. When I noticed them looking at my panties I used to smile and stare straight at them. Kath called it my "knowing smile".
Nothing ever happened except one day, but let me not get ahead, I will tell the story.
Kath had met this man, his name was Oliver and he came from Barbados. Now he was big, six foot three inches tall, well built and black. To myself, coming from rural England this was something totally different to what I knew. Not the type of boy my mother would approve of me taking home. Kath coming from swinging London was more amicable and she became friendly with Oliver, but still not over-trusting for when he invited her for tea in his room she asked me to accompany her.
We went and I did nothing special just wearing jeans and a sweater. We had a very enjoyable afternoon of talk and banter. It then became a regular occurrence and most Wednesday afternoons (English universities games afternoon – a pun!) we would troop round to Oliver's room for an enjoyable chat and a laugh. Oliver was always the perfect gentleman, although on a couple of occasions when I did the white panty trick I noted he was taking much interest. I just gave him that knowing smile and left it at that.
Until one fateful week and Kath was otherwise engaged. She had been selected to try-out for the hockey team. We were walking across the campus when we bumped into Oliver.
"Are you both coming for tea this Wednesday." Oliver asked.
"Sorry" responded Kath, "I have a hockey match."
"Oh!" said Oliver, "What about you, Pat? Would you like to come round?"
"No, I should not." I responded.
"Why not? I am perfectly safe." Said Oliver