I was lying on my front. He was on his back. We were both naked for we had just had sex. His hand rested on the small of my back, mine was on his hip. Both hands would occasionally stray; his into the crease of my bottom, mine into his crinkly pubic hairs and onto his semi-hard dick. We both knew that we would have sex again quite soon.
I was just twenty at the time. I was also inexperienced. I had reluctantly in some ways given my virginity away a couple of years earlier and had subsequently slept with him a few times before we broke up. I then went with another guy of my age for a few months having sex occasionally before being pulled by this older guy of thirty two a few weeks ago. We had been having sex regularly since then, mainly at his flat, but a few times in his car. I found that very exciting. He had taught me a lot.
As we lie on his bed half dozing and softly caressing each other in preparation for the ‘second round’ he asked.
“Have you ever been with another girl Tina?”
“No” I answered immediately, feeling guilty.
“Would you like to?”
“I don’t know, it’s never occurred to me” I mumbled into the pillow, not at all wanting to talk about it
“Ever been propositioned?” He asked running his fingers along the inside of the crease of my bottom. Him caressing and stroking me there had been new to me in my sexual experience. New, but amazingly exciting for it felt very naughty, almost taboo.
“Ever felt attracted?”
“No, not really” I lied.
“What do you mean not really?”
“Well I see girls and women of course who I think are very sexy and beautiful.”
“But have you ever thought you would like to touch them or be touched by them or maybe kiss them.”
“No” I lied for I had many times. “Why are you asking me these questions?” I asked as he pulled me onto my side facing away from him.
As I felt his cock between my legs the head of it finding my lips, his hand snaked round me and he squeezed my double D cup boobs.
“Because I would love to see you with another girl” he whispered into my ear as he pushed himself into me.
I grunted at the sensation. That was part arousal, but also part revulsion. I really couldn’t make out in my mind whether I loved sex and thus, put up with men or whether I was becoming a lesbian.
“Does that mean yes?” He asked as he started to fuck me. “For I have a friend who would happily join us.
As the sexual arousal overcame the partial revulsion I felt only one word came into my mind. ‘Men!’
Despite not going to uni., I managed somehow to get a job on a national newspaper that I was told could lead to me becoming a journalist or a reporter, which was my ambition. I was employed initially in the advertising department partly selling advertising space, but also helping out on the exhibitions and the other events the paper ran.
It was 1985 and I was nineteen. London was still ‘swinging’ and it was a fun place to work and live, especially in an industry like the media. I was constantly ‘star struck’ with the engaging and glamorous people I met and the fabulous clubs, pubs, restaurants and parties I got to go to through work.
Although I was sexually very inexperienced and rather naïve, I realised that many of the men at work and at the events were friendly towards me mainly for one reason, well two actually: they wanted to get at my tits and they wanted to fuck me.
When I had started at the agency the Personnel lady had explained that the culture is very male orientated and that girls like me are often looked on as ‘cannon fodder.’
“Just a friendly tip” the rather manly woman said, her gaze running up and down my body and pausing on my tits as we completed my two-day induction programme.