Chapter 2

I knew her mother first

“Don’t I know you?”

I turned around to see a woman standing next to me; a strange, exciting, exotic woman. Bright Oriental eyes, thick black hair tied into a braid that fell down to one side of her face. An older woman; perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties.

“Isn’t your name Bruce? Didn’t we spend the night together once?” She continued loudly, with an American accent.

I looked around the platform, to see if anyone else had heard the woman’s quite outrageous question.

“I’m sure I would have remembered.” I stammered nervously, the excitement growing within me as I realized that a beautiful woman was flirting with me.

“Oh, you would have, that’s for sure. My name’s Lucy, what’s yours?”

She spoke through an infectious grin, the kind of happy alive smile that no one dares exhibit in England.

“Bernhard.” I answered, unable to keep my eyes from flicking down her body and up again. God, she was incredible!

Her breasts were generous yet firm, her hips shapely yet somehow muscular. She was standing too close for me to see her figure very well, but it was clearly one worth seeing.

She was obviously from the “alternative” crowd; she was dressed in a tight black long-sleeved T-shirt, and black tights with a printed leopard skin pattern. She had some kind of lacy piece of cloth tied around her hips as if to try and hide the way the tights clung to her form, but instead it only made it all more risqué. She had a pair of sunglasses perched on the end of her nose that she was looking at me over. She wore beads and earrings, bracelets and rings. Her fingernails were long and painted blue.

“Nice to meet you, Bernard. Are you taking this train?”

“Ah, yes.” I told her, “Up to Oxford.”

“Really? Me too. Would you mind giving me a hand with my bag?”

Her suitcase must have been full of rocks; I struggled up onto the train with her, and we sat together. I felt as though I had entered some kind of vortex; this woman seemed quite overpowering. She had a strong presence, a strange energy. Her grin was irresistible, her voice loud and incessant. Her breasts were rather prominent as well.

She was large for an Oriental woman, five foot seven or so.

I was only 19, heading back to school after spending the weekend with my parents in London. It looked as though I was in for an interesting journey.

Her eyes flashed and her fingers were in continuous motion as she talked about nothing. She asked me about myself, and seemed to pay a lot of attention as I spoke; but I felt that she wasn’t really listening, just looking.

The train stopped at an intermediate station, I forget which one.

“Look, there’s a hotel.” She said, pointing to it as though it were Buckingham Palace.

“Yes.” I said.

“We could get a room.” She suggested, fixing me with her habitual excited grin.

How could I refuse?

I had only been with a couple of girls before Lucy, and their memories seemed to pale into insignificance as I entered the hotel room with this strange and wonderful American woman.

“Let’s get undressed.” She bubbled, stripping her tight T-shirt over her head.

Her breasts hung forward and proud as she freed her hair and shook it across her shoulders, like the mane of some unknown mythical beast. Her big brown eyes grabbed me, I could feel her intense excitement through her stare. She was a woman who knew what she wanted, and knew how to get it. She had planned this moment from the instant she saw me on the platform in London, she’d seated me on the side of the train that would face this hotel, and chatted me up until we reached it. She sat on the bed, and lifted one leg in my direction.

“Take my boots off, Bernard.” She said.

They were cute little bootlets, and I pulled them off her feet as she unbuckled her belt.

“Some people drink, and some people smoke.” She said as she peeled her tights down her legs, “But I’m into this.”

“I see.” I said lamely, as I struggled with my own clothes.

“How old are you, Bernard?”

“19.”

“Far out.” She said. “A 19 year old college boy. Oh, and you have a hard on already; that’s so sweet!”

She was right, it was. I climbed into bed alongside the exotic stranger, and we regarded each other for a moment before she reached out her hand to touch me for the first time.

A shudder went through me, her hand was so sensuous against my skin. She was slightly darker than me, and I watched her long fingernails trace across my stomach before traveling up to my face. We looked into each other’s eyes as she stroked my body, and as I slowly began to return to complement. We kissed.

I didn’t even know this woman; I didn’t know her last name, I didn’t know where she came from. I didn’t know her age or her interests. But I knew her tongue; I knew her fingers. And soon, I knew much more.

Our brief courtship moving right along, we embraced fully, my hard cock pressed against her belly as her smooth shapely thigh moved up between my legs, so it stimulated my balls. Her long fingernails scratched lightly across my back as her tongue made itself at home in my mouth.

She released me, and kissed her way down my belly; was she really going to do it?

I’d never had a blowjob before. One girl had kissed it, and briefly allowed it between her lips, but no one had sucked my cock before.

Lucy didn’t suck my cock, she consumed it. She worshiped it, she devoted herself to it. She somehow maintained her infectious grin as my white dick disappeared between her lightly glossed lips. Her bright laughing eyes never left my face as she stroked my balls.