Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Cheating, Slow, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Matt's life is good. He's got a posh pad, flash car and a great Job. He worked hard and he's got his rewards. But an invitation to his school's ten-year reunion, brings back memories of a torrid time and a hidden love he did nothing about. His friends persuade him to go against his better judgement and when he gets there his love has a surprise for him. A surprise that will change his life forever. Written in 2004, this is the slightly extended 2005 version. 12 Chapters, 1 a day

The reception area at King George's Comprehensive School was deserted apart from two friends. Just moments earlier it had been crowded with pupils rushing to their classes, but only Matt Marsden and Bobby Edwards remained. They'd been supervising the traffic and trying to keep the younger children from being trampled. With the rush over, they were examining The Wonderwall before returning to the common room for their self-study period.

'How many of these do you recognise?' Matt asked.

'One or two. Not many, ' replied Bobby.

The Wonderwall was a varnished oak board bearing the names of the school's most successful former students. It had been erected during the Christmas holiday and took pride of place in the reception, along with some of the current students' artwork. The headmaster said The Wonderwall inspired his students by giving them an example to follow.

'Wasn't Gareth Jenkins school football captain a couple of years ago?' Matt said.

'Yeah, I think he's on the books at Westhampton Wanderers, but he's not broken into the first team yet.'

'Andy Vansman. That name sounds familiar.'

'It should. He plays for Warwickshire County Cricket Club. He got a call-up to the England B squad last month.'

'How do you know that, Bobby? You hate cricket.'

'Yeah, but it was on '—Midlands Tonight.''

The two boys continued to examine the names. 'Are any of these not sportsmen?'

'Sally Whitehouse, ' Bobby said. 'I think she's on the stage in the West End.'

'So that's all our school's ever produced, is it? Sporting meatheads and artsy bitches. Hardly a set of shining examples.'

'What do you expect, Matt? We're not the grammar school, you know. We're King George's, worst school in town.'

'This place isn't that bad.'

'You can't tell me you weren't disappointed when you failed the entrance exam for the grammar school.'

'I didn't fail it?'

'You didn't? You never told me that. What are you doing here then?'

'I didn't fail it, cause I never took it.'

'Why the fuck not?'

'My granddad had just died and my Mom was in the hospital. I guess it just got overlooked.'

'Overlooked? For fuck's sake, Matt. That oversight has cost you seven years in this dump.'

'Maybe. There is one name missing from here.'


'Phil Jeavons. He's hardly a good role model, though. He robbed Barclays and got sent down for ten years.'

A classmate joined them. They nodded at each other in acknowledgement.

'You two looking at The Wonderwall?' Roy asked.

'Stupid name for it too, ' Matt said. 'Wonderwall. I ask you. What's it supposed to mean?'

'It a wall of wonderful achievement. I think it's cool, ' said Roy. 'And you two know what?'

'What?' Bobby asked.

'Someday, I'm going to get my name on The Wonderwall.'

Bobby stifled his laughter. 'What as? West Midlands Sumo Champion?'

Roy huffed. 'No. Someday, I'll be a millionaire. You'll see. I'll be one of the most famous businessmen in the country. And in ten years they'll be begging me to come back here as a shining example of school success. And you know what?'

Matt sighed. He'd heard all this before. 'What?'

'I'll tell '—em to stick it. I'll be a success despite this dump, not because of it.'

'That right?'

'That's right. And I'll tell you something else, when I'm rich, there's no way that Kelly won't go out with me.'

'Oh, come on, Roy!' Matt shook his head. 'How many times have you asked Kelly out?'

'I don't know, five or six. But at least I have asked her out. You haven't got the balls to. Everyone knows you fancy her, you know.'

'That's cause I know what she'd say. Why would anyone from that posh estate go out with one of us lot? Better to not ask and not get embarrassed by the knock back. Besides, she's a mate. It'd only make things awkward if I asked her out and she said no.'

Two more of their peers passed through the reception. John Nettles and James Asbury were heading for the library, but Matt suspected it wasn't to study.

'Oi, ' Nettles called. 'What you three doing? Dreaming about being sad enough for the Wall of Shit?'

'Go fuck yourself, Nettles.'

'You fuck off, you wanker.'

'Gentlemen!' Mrs Riley, one of the teachers, entered the reception at that moment. 'That's hardly appropriate language, now is it? Mr. Marsden, I'd have expected better from you.'

'He started it.' Matt nodded towards Nettles.

'I don't care who started it. I'll thank you both to clean up your filthy mouths. Detention, both of you. I'll let you know when. Now, don't you have somewhere to be Mr Nettles?'

Matt waited until Nettles and Mrs Riley had left and said, 'Fucking bastard.'

'Yeah, but the girls all like him for it, ' said Bobby. 'I don't know why, but they do.'

'Not all of '—em. Kelly hates him.'

'Oh, Matt. I nearly forgot, ' said Roy.

'Nearly forgot what?'

'Mr. Thompson wants to see you.'

'What the fuck does he want?'

'It's probably the same '—have you thought about your options when you leave school' talk that I had, ' said Bobby. 'I know it's ages away, but he wants as many people to apply to university as possible. I think he thinks he'll get paid more if we do. Fucking idiot.'

'You gonna apply?' Matt asked.

'No point, ' said Bobby. 'Unlike you, the only universities that my shitty grades will get me in are, well, shit. I'd rather go out into the real world and start earning than spend another three years doing homework and racking up huge debts.'

'Where is he?' Matt asked. 'In his office?'

Roy nodded. 'He's waiting for you. He knows you've got a free period, so you've got no excuse.'

Matt sighed. 'Great. See ya later, Bob.'

'Yeah, see ya. I'll be in the library. And remember, don't let the bastard talk you into shit you don't wanna do.'

Matt didn't hurry on his way to Thompson's office, which was on the first floor next to the sixth-form common room. He knocked even though the door was open. 'You wanted to see me, sir?'

The Head of Sixth-Form looked up from his paperwork. 'Matt, yes. Come in and take a seat. And shut the door.'

Matt closed the door behind him and sat down. Thompson reached for some papers at the back of his desk. He searched through them and picked one out. Matt guessed it must be his last set of school reports. Thompson read the paper silently and then looked up at Matt.

'Splendid report again, Matt. Splendid. I see that that your teachers are all of the opinion that you're heading for straight '—A's in the summer's exams. Quite a feat.'

Matt tried to hide his embarrassment. 'There's a long time between now and then, sir.'

'Not as long as you might think. Not as long at all. Have you thought about what you plan to do afterwards?'

'I was thinking of applying to university, sir. I've always wanted to be a lawyer.'

Thompson nodded. 'Good choice. Good choice. Lot of money in the legal profession.'

'I'm not really interested in the money, sir. I just want to help people who can't help themselves.'

'Very noble. Although a whacking great salary can't hurt, can it?'

'Guess not.'

'Of course, you understand that choosing such a career makes your choice of university all the more important?' Thompson put the paper down and leant forward. 'With these grades you'd stand a good chance of getting a place at Oxford or Cambridge. There'd be an interview, of course, but you'd have no trouble with that, I'm sure.'

'I don't know, sir. Aren't Oxford and Cambridge for posh, public school types?'

'Traditionally, I suppose they do have that image. But these days they're expected to take a fair proportion of state school candidates too.'

'I didn't know if it's for me really, sir.'

'Well, it's your choice, of course. But, think about it, okay? You're coming on the trip to Birmingham University, aren't you?'

Matt nodded. 'Yes. I'm looking forward to it.'

'Good. Good. Well, I think that's all.'

Matt left the office and looked in on the common room. It was empty apart from Kelly Larson and Laura Blackwood, who were standing at the vending machine by the entrance.

'Coke or Fanta?' Kelly asked.

'I don't care, ' replied Laura. 'Just pick one and let's go. We're already late. Old man Hubbard will do his nut. I could kill bloody Roy Lakeland. Why hasn't he got the message that you don't want to go out with him.'

'Beats me. You think that the phrase, '—not if you had a million pounds' would be clear enough, but no.'

Laura laughed. 'I can't believe his reply. The cheek of the boy.'

'Why, what did he say?'

They turned around at Matt's words and noticed him for the first time. Kelly beamed. 'Oh, hi, Matthew. I thought you'd be in the library, as usual.'

'Just had a meeting with the boss-man.'

'About what you plan to do next year?' Laura asked.

Matt nodded. 'That's the one.'

'Bet that was a waste of time, ' said Kelly. 'With your grades you'll be off to a top university, while the rest of us will have to make do with what we're offered.'

'I don't know where I'm going yet. I haven't really thought about it. Anyway, what did Roy say? He was boasting earlier that you'd have to go out with him if he was a millionaire. I bet you took the wind right out of his sails.'

'Not really, ' said Kelly. 'I said not if he had a million pounds and he said what about two million, or three. He just doesn't get it.'

Matt half-smirked. 'And what did you say?'

'Me? Nothing, I just walked off.'

'How many times is that he's asked you out now?'

'Eight, I think, if you count that time at the Christmas Party last year when he got drunk and asked almost everybody out.'

'He didn't ask me out, ' said Laura.

'Lucky you, ' said Matt. All three of them laughed.

'We've got to go, Matthew, ' said Kelly. 'We're already late. See you lunchtime?'

Matt nodded. 'Sure.'

The next morning was cold, grey and damp. The wind howled and the rain was relentless. As Chair and Vice-Chair of the student committee, Laura and Matt were often called upon to perform tasks that the teachers believed required someone responsible. That was the reason they were standing under an umbrella in the school car park, waiting for a coach to arrive. It was already quarter of an hour late.

'Here it is, ' said Laura, pointing towards the school gates. 'You go and tell Mr. Thompson and I'll go meet the driver.'

'Do you get to keep the umbrella?'

'Of course. I'm the Chair, after all.'

'By one vote as I recall.'

'Still beat you though. Go on. Please. You're quicker than me, you won't get as wet.'

Matt shook his head and raced back to the school. After telling Mr. Thompson that the coach had arrived, he returned to the car park. Laura was already on the bus.

'Matt, ' she called when he climbed aboard. 'I've saved us the back row. You, me, Kelly, Bobby and Julie.'

'Great! I know Nettles wanted it, so anything that pisses him off is fine by me.'

John Nettles was indeed annoyed that he and his gang couldn't have the back row. Matt knew that had there not been teachers present, he'd have been more threatening over it than he was. Instead he settled for vowing to commandeer the seats for the return journey by getting back to the bus first.

'I don't know why he's come anyway, ' Kelly whispered to Matt as they got off the bus at the university. 'It's not as if he's likely to even pass the exams, let alone get good enough grades for university.'

'I think he heard they sell beer in the Student's Union at lunchtime, ' relied Matt.

'That'd explain it.' Kelly smiled her broad smile. Of all Kelly's qualities, her smile was close to the top of the list of things he liked about her. It wasn't just that it was wide and exposed her perfect teeth. It was that it spread to her whole face including her eyes. Kelly's smiles weren't fake. She only smiled when she was happy. Thankfully, she was happy a lot.

The objective of the day was to gather as much information as they could about life at university and the particular courses that they were interested in. For Matt, this meant a morning spent alone in the Law department. He met up with his friends at lunchtime. They waited in line for their free meal with the rest of the many visitors to the campus, and then found a table together.

'So, ' Kelly said, 'Where have you all been this morning?'

'Math's department, ' grunted Bobby through a mouthful of food. 'Dead boring really and all the teachers are just as geeky as you'd imagine.'

'You really shouldn't talk with your mouth full, Robert. It's disgusting.'

'Sorry.' His mouth was still full.

'What about you, Matthew?'

'Law. It's a decent department they've got here. They have a really high graduate employment rate. Not as high as the top places, but still pretty good.'

'So you think you might apply here?' Laura asked. 'Stay close to home?'

'Dunno, ' said Matt. 'I suppose it's time I made my mind up.'

'I'd love to go to Oxford, ' said Kelly. 'Like my Uncle Fraser. But you need straight '—A's and I'm not going to get them. I suppose Birmingham is a good substitute. It's local, and the business school is really good from what I've seen today.'

'Hey, Matt, ' said Bobby. 'You're the brianbox. Why don't you apply to Oxford?'

'Thompson said something similar, ' said Matt. 'But I don't think it's really for me. I wouldn't fit in with all the rich kids.'

'Don't be silly, Matthew, ' said Kelly. 'Of course you'd fit in. After all, with no parents around, you'd all be in the same boat. I think it's a great idea. You should apply to Oxford. It'll stand you in good stead for when you leave.'

She grinned at him and they held each other's gaze for a moment longer than was necessary. 'I dunno. I'll have to think about it.'

Two days later, Matt, Bobby and Julie sat at their favourite desk in the school library. Julie was struggling with an essay on '—Wuthering Heights' for her English Literature class.

'Oh, poo, ' said Julie. 'This doesn't make any sense at all. It's a stupid book.'

'It's a classic, ' said Matt. He'd finished his essay at home the previous night. 'I would've thought you'd have loved it.'

'Give me a good Catherine Cookson any day.'

'Julie, please... '

'Well if she's so bad, why does she sell so many books? And have you ever actually read one?'

'If I'd been captured by terrorists, and they offered me two forms of torture, having my gonads electrocuted or being forced to read Cookson's entire works, then I'd tell '—em to fire up the generator.'

Julie and Matt laughed. Bobby slammed his pencil on the table and snapped his textbook shut.

'I've had enough. Calculus does my fucking head in. What time is it?'

'Quarter to one, ' Matt replied.

'Good. Nearly lunchtime, I'm fucking starved.'

Bobby packed his books into his bag and then got up to retrieve one of the day's newspapers from the rack by the library entrance. The door opened when he got there and Kelly and Laura walked in. 'Hey, girls, ' he said.

He walked with them back to the table, then sat down and opened the newspaper to the sports section. Kelly had a clipboard in her hand. Laura was carrying a Tupperware box and small bundle of green cards. The two girls sat down next to Bobby.

'Have you three got your tickets for Saturday night?' Laura asked.

'Nah, ' said Bobby. 'I'm waiting '—til last minute tomorrow. You know what I'm like; I'll lose it if I have it any earlier.'

'But what if we sell out? You could give it Julie to look after.'

'Don't listen to him, ' said Julie. 'I brought the tickets yesterday. If I left it to him he'd forget.'

Kelly looked down the list of names on her clipboard. 'Yep, I've got you marked off. You must have got them from Smithy. It's typical of him not to say anything.' She looked further down her list. 'You're not marked off, Matthew. Smithy must have forgotten.'

'No, he hasn't. I haven't got one yet. I don't think I'm going.'

'What?' said Bobby. 'Matt, you've got to come. It'll be a blast. Besides, you're vice-thingy, you know. Isn't it you're job to be there?'

'I know, but I got a shit load of work to do this weekend.'

'Bollocks. You've got no homework or you'd be doing it now.'

'No, not homework. I got to fill my university application in.'

Laura looked confused. 'But the deadline isn't for another month.'

Realisation quickly spread across Kelly's face. She smiled. 'You're going to do it. Aren't you, Matthew?'

'Do what?' said Laura. 'Kelly... ?'

'Do you remember we were talking over the lunch at the university the other day? I said how much I'd like to go to Oxford, like my Uncle Fraser, but how I didn't think I'd get the grades. You need straight '—A's and I'm only going to get '—B's at most, well, maybe an '—A' in Economics, but that still won't be good enough.'

She paused for breath. 'Anyway, Robert said to Matthew that since he'd be getting straight A's, what with being the cleverest out of all of us, that he should go to Oxford. He thought it was a stupid idea at the time, but I said he should.' She looked at him. 'What changed your mind?'

'My Nana. She said that if I don't try then I'll regret it in ten years. She also said that if I don't try, I'll never know, and that if I've got the chance I should grab it with both hands.'

'She doesn't half go on, your Nana, ' said Bobby. 'So is it true? Are you going to Oxford?'

Matt nodded. 'I'm applying at least. Probably won't get in, but you never know. That's why I have to do my application this weekend. They have to be in early for Oxford and Cambridge.'

'You can still come out on Saturday though, ' said Kelly. 'It won't the same without you there. Just don't drink very much then you'll have a hangover-free Sunday to do your application.'

'I don't know.'

'Tell you what. You come out on Saturday, and I'll look at your application on Monday morning and see if you've missed out any of your good points. I mean, there's so many, you bound to, aren't you?'

'Okay. Okay, I'll come.'

Kelly grinned. 'Great.'

'That'll be two quid then, please, ' said Laura. 'What? If you don't get your ticket now, we might sell out.'

Matt handed over his money and Laura gave him a ticket. 'Don't lose it. It's the club's bouncer on the door, and they won't let you in without it.'

'I won't.'

Bobby looked at his watch. 'Lunchtime. About bloody time. You coming, Matt?'

Matt shook his head. 'I've got that detention with Mrs. Riley?'

'What detention?' Kelly asked.

'I had a run in with Nettles and she caught us?'

'You weren't fighting with him, were you? He's not worth it.'

'We just had an exchange of words.'

'Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you in class after lunch.'

'Yeah, too bad, mate, ' said Bobby. 'See ya later, I'm off for some nosh.'

Nettles was waiting outside Mrs Riley's room. He glared at Matt when he arrived. 'This is your fucking fault, Marsden. I'll get you back for this.'

'Gentlemen.' Mrs Riley had opened the door and stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. 'Don't start again or you'll be coming back here every lunchtime for the rest of the week. Now inside, both of you. Separate desks.'

They did as they were told and sat in silence as the elderly teacher lectured them on the rights and wrongs of foul language and on appropriate behaviour for the eldest students in the school. 'You really are supposed to set an example to the younger children. I'm just glad none of them were around to overhear you. So, gentlemen, you can write two thousand words for me on the responsibilities of role models in modern society and have it on my desk by Monday morning.'

'But Miss, ' said Matt, 'I've got to do my university application this weekend.'

'In that case, I suggest you do it before then, Mr. Marsden. The library is open late every night. That'll be all gentlemen. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your lunch for any longer.'

Matt and Nettles left the room in a solemn mood. Matt was fuming that a few poorly chosen words had landed him extra work. He knew it was his own fault and he was angry with himself because of it. They were well away from the classroom before either of them spoke.

'Two thousand fucking words. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?'

'Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, ' said Matt.

'A couple of hours? Oh, thanks a fucking bundle, Marsden. This is all your fault, you fucking twat.'

'And you had fuck all to do with it?'

'Like I said, all your fucking fault. I've you'd have kept your fat gob shut... '

'You started it.'

'Oh, just fuck off.' Nettles stormed off in the opposite direction. Matt guessed he was going for a nicotine fix. Before he turned the corner, Nettles shouted, 'I'll get you back for this. This Saturday, at the party. I'm asking Larson out. I'm asking her out, and when she says '—yes' I'm gonna take her outside, fuck her twat and come in her mouth.'

'She wouldn't let you.'

'Wanna bet. She might be a stuck-up tart, but I reckon she's a dirty little sult too.'

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Cheating / Slow /