There wasn't an adult in the land that didn't know what her family did. There wasn't a tabloid editor on Fleet Street that hadn't paid out hard cash for sex tapes containing her or her family. They were notorious; famous almost. Salacious details of the exploits became Internet folklore, the stuff of legend.

Everyone knew of the McAllister family. The father, Clifford, had "betrayed" his expensive education and status. He was, technically, the 2nd Viscount of Greysford but he was no "toff." The billionaire had added to his vast inherited fortune with a suite of highly profitable pornographic studios. The stepmother, Rebecca, was sixteen years his junior, and a retired pornographic actress. The billionaire's wife's supposed nymphomania was well-documented and much ridiculed in the tabloid press who were merciless in their cruel condemnation of the brunette's sexuality. The eldest son, Michael, organised exclusive sex parties in fashionable city hotspots such as Soho, Monaco and Dubai, while the eldest daughter, Alexandria, was a world-famous dominatrix in New York. The upper-class family oozed sex and scandal, lust and licentiousness. They lived for obscenity, ignored the ridicule.

It was the youngest daughter, Katherine, who I came to know. She was the girl was secretly recorded sodomising the International footballer on her eighteenth birthday with an ten-inch strap-on. It got her on the front and back pages of the national tabloids, as the video of the cocky England international doing unnatural things to a black rubber dong brought him much derision from the fans. Football terraces are unforgiving.

Katherine was also the girl who captured my heart and my lust.

Not that I had any inkling that she would. I met her on Freshers' Week at University; the campus accommodation officer assigned us to rooms on adjoining corridors. I was captivated by her personality from the very first time I met her: there was no power in my room, and I knocked on adjacent rooms to ask if they had the same problems with their electricity before I complained.

Pure beauty opened the door: soft, radiant skin and deep blue eyes that oozed seduction. She had long, straight blonde hair that reached her shoulder blades and a warm, friendly smile that beamed as she looked at me.

And she was naked. I had to double-take.

I gulped, almost forgetting my reason for knocking on her door; the girl who had spent so much time in every national newspaper was beckoning me into her room. She was a minor celebrity, and I got to see all of her. It was a dream, a wild fantasy. I had masturbated to the video on the Internet porno-tube sites and seeing her so vividly au-naturel was an erection causer.

She knew this; a wry grin seeped from her lips as she glanced at the bulge in my shorts. I naturally looked around her room: her bin overflowing with discarded boxes of sex toys. She had boxes of condoms and lubricant on her shelf and there was an erotic novel on her bedside table. She offered me a drink from her drinks fridge as she needlessly introduced herself. I knew of Katherine McAllister.

But I didn't know Katherine McAllister. I may have thought I did, but I only had preconceptions and as I found out, they were wildly inaccurate. She was smart: unbelievably clever and incredibly astute. The more time I spent with her, the more I realised the odious comments from the Internet trolls were tragically wrong. We had enlisted onto the same Mathematics course and it became natural for us to study together; we became good friends as we mutually enjoyed each other's company. I helped her connect her laptop to the University network and we spent several evenings drinking alcohol, curled up on her bed by ourselves or with other students, as we watched films or just chatted the night away.

And Katherine rarely wore any clothes in her room, or mine. She encouraged me to do the same and sometimes I did. It was dangerous: the incredible sexiness of the liberal beauty was an arousing sight and I frequently had to hide erections from her. In hindsight it was silly, but I didn't want to damage my blossoming friendship with a fantastic confidante by inappropriately revealing my stiff cock to her.

Katherine's love life was tumultuous. She raced through boyfriends at a phenomenal rate and had even more one night stands; she confided her secrets to me. Her descriptions of her sex and the angst it caused tortured me. I longed for a relationship and her rampant sex contrasted with my unintended and unwanted abstinence.

She realised my desperation and she loved to tease. One cold, November evening we had tickets for free entry to the local student nightclub. We had agreed to go and at the agreed time, I banged on her door, dressed and ready to drink the night away. She beckoned me into her room: still naked and wet from the shower. "We'll be late," I moaned, but Katherine rarely cared for punctuality, rubbing her lithe body with her pink towel and smirking as my eyes took in the delicate curves of the beautiful student. I never tired of her gorgeous body, and she loved to exhibit herself.

She mewed as she rubbed between her legs; deliberately touching her bare mound with her fingers when rough towel was discarded onto the floor. She fell onto the bed. "Won't be a moment," she panted, opening her bedside table to retrieve one of her hundreds of sex toys. "Make yourself ... comfortable!"

The pink vibrator drew groans from her lips as she pressed it against her crack, sliding the toy along her slit as I stared at the sight in front of me. I was shocked by her lewdness. Did she want me to watch? Did she even forget it was me present and not one of her many lovers? The exhibitionist whimpered as her toy swept over her clit, rotating the trembling rubber toy against her sensitive regions.

I watched: my erection pressing against my cotton briefs as her fingers darted over her hairless mons to control the vibrating dildo and press it against her opening. I felt a shiver as the head slowly disappeared, ensnared by her pussy and exchanged for a cacophony of loud groans and yells.

Her body seized and shook; her dripping snatch adoring the quivering toy slamming against her G-Spot. She erupted into a climax and she lay motionless on the bed, drained and sated.

"I needed that," she simpered, discarding her toy in the en-suite's sink and pocketing a packet of condoms into her handbag. She would need them; she always did.

When I talk to Katherine about that moment now, she confesses that she was sending me a signal: she was trying to capture my attention but at the time I thought she was out of my league. In a way I still do, but back then, she was completely unattainable. She was my friend, and I treasured her friendship. I thought she had no sexual interest in me because I was not sexy.

Even when she travelled to my house for the New Year celebrations at my family's modest abode and we spent the night naked in my double bed, curled up together and holding each other tight as we drifted away into slumber, we could be nothing more than a rich girl with a poor friend.

What could I offer her? She had the pick of any man, she had more money than I could ever earn and everyone loved her. I couldn't even offer her good sex: I didn't have the experience. Three times with a nervous, fumbling girlfriend didn't make me experienced, and she loved men who were.

My birthday arrived in February; she treated me a revolutionary new male masturbator: a curved vibrating pad that stimulated the head and frenulum. I blushed when I opened the wrapping; my cheeks blushed when she tugged at my pyjamas to my knees to try it on me.

Her soft hands swept over my pubic hair as she pushed me onto my bed and rolled her hands over my erect prick. "Do you have any lube?" She asked: a patently absurd question to ask a man who had not had sex for over a year. "Oh never mind."

Her lips rolled over the head of my shaft; I nearly came. My legs quivered as I groaned, feeling the cool rush of gentle sexual stimulation warm my loins. The wet moistness felt divine; her lips sensually fantastic. The toy pressed against my cock and she flicked it on, smiling as I gasped. The vibrations were intensely satisfying, my cock pulsing under her touch as my loins squirmed.

She smiled at my writhing, watching as my mind fogged from the lust. "And then you get your lover to suck the end of your cock until you come," she seductively suggested, running her tongue across my prick and sucking the glans.

"Oh no! Oh God! Katherine! Katherine!" I cried, panicking as I felt the familiar surge of my arousal past the point of no return. I held onto my orgasm, whimpering and panting as my muscles agonising burnt. I could hold on no more. She needed to stop sucking; I was about to cum in her mouth. "Katherine!" I squealed desperately through my pants, as my body drove me into a climax; the first surge of my semen squirting onto her tongue.

I was mortified; she smiled. The minx was unmoved by the waves of cum flooding into her mouth. She nonchalantly swallowed my deposit, and beamed. "But..."

"What? Good toy isn't it?"

"You ... ate my spunk." Katherine shrugged. "That's ... wow! Just disgusting but..."

"It's not battery acid," she teased, running her hands over my spent body. "It's nice. Try it." She caused a flood of arousal as her fingers gripped the base of my cock and swept upwards, milking the last of my cum onto her dainty fingers.

My heart quickened. "I'm not gay!"

"I never said you were." She held her fingers to my lips and cocked her head. "Honestly, try it. For me!" I screwed up my face but Katherine was insistent, and I relented by poking my tongue out to the mess dripping from her skin. She wiped her finger on my tongue as I tentatively touched my cum, causing me to splutter as her fingers brushed against me.

My first impressions were that while it wasn't "nice," it wasn't disgusting either: a slightly bitter, thick taste: a little musky and earthy but not unpleasant. My ex-girlfriend said it tasted horrible, but it just didn't.

She giggled at my expression. "If you learn to like it then I'd let you fuck me bareback as long as you go down on me afterwards." She stared at me, watching my mind processing what she said. "I love to feel cum sucked out of me. It's so ... hot!" My heart pounded as she raised an eyebrow, blowing me a kiss and left me on the bed as she washed her hands and the toy in my en-suite.

In many ways, I thought she was joking; it was all part of the Katherine McAllister legend and charm but she was serious as I discovered the following day. She came into my room with the briefest of knocks, naked except for her handbag. This was usual. I was still in my tartan pyjamas that she despised and was talking to my mother on the phone when she gently closed the door behind her. She gripped my waist and slowly inched my sleepwear bottoms to my knees, mischief plastered on her face.

I waved my hand at her, but she saw from the frantically disguised smirk on my face that I was prepared for her games. She blew gently on my cock, coaxing it into a full engorgement while I talked on the telephone, trying to put her machinations into the back of my mind. I closed my eyes and tried to process my niece's birthday party or my Dad's new car. I tried to not feel the warm breath swirling over my cock, or the gentle touch of her finger rubbing my balls. Or the luscious tongue sliding over my glans, causing me to whimper. I bit my lip and tried to cover my crotch with my spare hand, but Katherine slid her body up mine, taking my hand along her torso and onto her pert bosom.

I whimpered again; my mother asked if I was distracted. I lied, as Katherine's pussy teased the top of my erect cock. Her fingers twirled against my nipples, her deep blue eyes simmering with lust. I barely listened to my conversation. She immersed my dick in her teenage pussy, rocking energetically on my sensitive cock and groaning loudly.

"Are you alone?" My mother asked again, sounding a little exasperated. I bit my lip and racked my brains for an answer.

"A friend's just come in. Been running," I squealed. "Gotta go. Hurt themselves." Katherine laughed as I discarded the phone by my pillow, watching her breasts as she leant forward so they fell against my face. Her hips ground down on my crotch: riding my cock faster and faster.

It had been a long, long time since I had last had sex, but it felt better than I had ever remembered: the fiery sensations firing across my genitals as she rocked her hips with wild abandon. I was there; I was ready to climax. I muttered her name; I warned her. She kissed me, burying her tongue in my mouth as her golden hair fell around my face, sweeping across me as she brought me to orgasm.

I came stronger than I had ever come before, my cock squirting several waves of warmth into her cunt as I yelled profanities and proclamations to God. She smiled, gently rocking back on my prick as I recovered from the intensity of my climax.

"Remember. We had an understanding," she reminded me as she moved up the bed to straddle my face. I moaned in complaint; she squeezed my ears with her thighs. I felt the first drip of my cum land on my lips, looking up at her hairless pussy. It looked gorgeous and filthy: globules of semen hung from her moist pink like stalactites in a cave.

I heard her wave to a friend out of my window as I apprehensively swirled my tongue against her creamy pussy. She mewed at every touch of her dripping cunt with my lips, as I sucked our mess from her moistness. It felt dirty, it felt taboo but it was what Katherine wanted. She looked over her mound and into my startled eyes as she bucked her hips on my mouth, letting gravity draw the goo onto my lips.

It tasted sweeter than before: her nectar was gloriously sapid as my tongue pressed against her cunt. Her body trembled as I flicked her button; the intricacies of cunnilingus flooding my memory as my mouth swept up and down her slippery cunt.

She climaxed twice; her crotch grinding my head into my pillow as she came, expelling the last of my creamy deposits into my mouth.

"That's the first bareback fuck I've had for months," she confessed, as she climbed off of me. "I love 'em so much!"

We talked; that day was the start of something wonderful. We had an agreement: not a day would pass when I wouldn't screw the delightful Katherine but I promised to eat my cum from her pussy afterwards. We fucked on the dancefloor at the student nightclub, and then I gave her head under the table moments later. We shagged several times in the fields at sunset and a car layby overlooking the town. We did it in three shop changing rooms, a cemetery and a bus stop. But most of all we fucked in our bedrooms. Every fuck was followed by sloppy cunnilingus as I slurped our cum from her cunt, and although she rarely came from sex, she always came from me eating her out. She loved sensation of my lips sucking her hole, or swirling against her slippery clit.

She had boyfriends too. Monogamy wasn't in her dictionary. Some of them knew about me, most didn't. I never had anything to do with them and our paths never crossed, until just after Easter. She came into my room at 4am with the briefest of knocks. She pulled me from my slumber, I could barely make out her frame in the half-light. She insincerely apologised as she sat on my face. "Eat me!" She cried. "Just eat me." I smelt the familiar aroma of cum, the unique taste I knew so well and the tell-tale drops of cum glistening from the light of my alarm clock. "Please."