A Tortured Soul - Cover

A Tortured Soul

Copyright© 2016 by Marc Nobbs

Chapter 8: Amanda

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 8: Amanda - After almost a year running from his grief on a road trip around The United States, Paul returns to Westmouthshire for a fresh start at university. But he knows he can no longer run from his problems. He knows he has to turn and face them if he is ever to get on with his life. But that's not as easy as it sounds. New friends. An old enemy. And a voice that haunts his days and fills his dreams. Will Paul ever find a cure for his tortured soul? "A Good Man" *must* be read first.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Slow  

It was after ten o’clock when we got to The Union—the building owned and operated by the Student’s Union. Situated on the eastern side of the university’s Grand Plaza, with the university library on the Plaza’s northern edge, The Union was a ghastly nineteen-seventies concrete and glass monstrosity. Oh, sure, they’d tried to disguise it with various signs and banners, and it had had more than its fair share of coats of paint, but it was what it was—and it was hideous. At least, it was from the outside. Inside was a completely different story. In fact, once you stepped inside, it became obvious why the whole thing hadn’t been knocked down and rebuilt. It was sleek, shiny and modern—a testament to that old adage, it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

Since it was built on a hillside, the main entrance and foyer were actually between the building’s two floors. A central set of stairs led down to the small supermarket, the book shop and the Student Union’s offices, while stairs either side of that led up to the entertainment level, which housed a bar that took up about one-third of the space and a nightclub that doubled as a canteen during the day taking up the rest.

Throughout the evening so far, the Wintersmith residents had stayed pretty much together, with smaller groups forming within the larger one, like me, Mark, Emily and the other girls and Jon, Micky and Mazher. The later three had joined in more as the night wore on and that great social lubricant—alcohol—worked its magic. They were firmly part of the group by the time we split off from the larger crowd on entering The Union. After a toilet break, which the girls insisted was badly needed, we found ourselves on the dance floor in the nightclub, drinking from bottles and gyrating our unmentionables against each other.

Hold on, let me clarify that—the girls were gyrating their unmentionables against the boys and vice versa. I didn’t see any boy-on-boy gyrating amongst our little group (although I did see some elsewhere on the dance floor). There was some girl-on-girl gyrating though and I got the distinct impression that Jade and Joanne were slightly more than just best friends.

Surprise, surprise, I spent most of the night dancing with Amanda. She’d not exactly been subtle about her intentions ever since she showed up in my room to give me the once over. And I’ll be honest, I wasn’t averse to the idea. Oh, sure, it’d feed the voice in my head if I went along with it, and I was bound to have that dream again afterwards, but I was used to that. I’d been living with it for nearly a year. And let’s face it, sex is sex, right? A pussy is a pussy and I liked pussy. And while it might bug me before and annoy me after, about the only time that voice really shut up, the only time I was confident it wouldn’t pop into my head and interfere, was when I was actually doing it.

And if she was up for it, so was I. So it looked very much like I’d be doing Amanda.

I just hoped that didn’t make Emily jealous.


Just after one, the DJ announced the bar would be open for another hour, but the music would go on until three.

I pulled away from Amanda, who was draped over me in such a way that it would have been obscene if not for the dozens of other couples on the dance floor in similar situations.

“I’m fucked,” I said.

“What?” she shouted, cupping her hand to her ear. The music was really loud. The Union boasted that their speaker system was state-of-the-art. I assume that just meant really fucking loud.

“I said, I’m fucked!” I yelled.

“Not yet you’re not,” she replied. “But we can change that any time you want!”

<<Oh, you want, don’t you, Paul? You want very much indeed.>>

“I meant, I’m knackered. I need a drink. Want one?”

“Like I’m going to say no? Lead the way.”

I took her hand and led her out of the nightclub and into the bar, where it was still loud, but at least you could hold a conversation without shouting yourself hoarse. I bought a bottled lager for me and another of those horrid-looking coloured things for her—green this time—then we grabbed a seat by the glass wall which overlooked University Green, a lawned area next to the library.

“Mands, look, I—”

“It’s okay, Paul. I know what you’re going to say and you don’t need to say it. You’re not looking to get involved with anyone right now, blah, blah, blah. Emmy filled me in yesterday. I think you’re being pretty hard on her by the way. She adores you, in case you hadn’t noticed, and to brush her off the way you did—”

“It was for her own good.”

“Oh, I know that and so does she. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it? Honestly, I don’t think she really expected you’d come home and fall into her arms, but she did kind of hope. She told me what you said, and you’re right. If you think you’re still not right in the head, then you’d only be putting her in a position where she’ll get hurt if you started anything. And just so you know, if you hadn’t done the right thing, and you had hurt her, I’d have killed you. No joke. Straight up, I’d have fucking murdered you. Right?”

“I reckon she’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Better believe it.” She grinned. “Now, back to you, me and that big old bed in your room. I don’t want some big, hearts and flowers romance or anything. That’s not me. Not for a good few years yet, anyway. I’m young. Free. Single. And I like to fuck. So what? Some people hold it against me, but not the ones I care about, so fuck the rest, right?”

“Have you?”

<<I bet she has. I’ll bet she’s fucked every fucker here. You don’t waste a body built for fucking like that one.>>

“Most of them.” She grinned again, although it was probably more of a smirk, really. “Anyway, Emmy said that your last couple of girlfriends raved about you and that your friend Lisa said you were best she’d ever had just last week.”

“What? But that was ... And then after I ... When the fuck did Lisa tell her that?”

“She phoned Emmy right after she left your bed on Wednesday.”

<<Did you really think she wasn’t going to brag about the number you did on her?>>

I shook my head in disbelief. “I’ll never understand women.”

“As it should be. But if we can get back on topic, please. I like to fuck. You’re supposed to be pretty good. Therefore, why would I not want to fuck you? No strings. I mean, we’ll have to be civil to each other afterwards at the very least because of Emmy, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. In fact, you’re pretty cool and I reckon we can be pretty good friends. Friends with benefits, obviously.” She smiled this time, rather than grinned. A genuine smile rather than a mocking one. She was quite beautiful when she smiled like that.

I nodded. “Okay, so long as you’re—”

“Will you stop trying to talk me out of it? Or are you trying to talk yourself out of it? I saw the look in your eye when I came into your room earlier. You want me, Paul. Admit it, you’ve wanted me from the second you set eyes on me.”

I shrugged.

<<With a body like that? She’s damn right you wanted her from the off. I mean, why wouldn’t you? She’s just your type, right Paul?>>

“I’ll take that as an admission of truth. So, want to get out of here?”

“What, now?”

<<Yes, now! Woo Hoo!>>

“Sure. Why wait?”

<<Why wait indeed!>>

I shrugged again.

“That’s a yes then.” She leaned forward, placing her hands on my legs and put her mouth to my ear. “I give world-class blowjobs, you know. Everyone who’s had one says so. Ask Jem or Phil.” She slid one hand up my leg and felt the outline of my erection through my jeans. She purred. “Hmm, I’m going to enjoy this.”

<<So are you, Paul! So are you.>>


We found Emily to say goodnight. She was dancing with Phil and stopped to listen to Amanda. She gave me a questioning look while the two of them spoke and I tried to give her my best reassuring smile. They hugged, kissed each other on the cheek then Emily glanced at me one more time before Phil pulled her back towards him to carry on dancing.

Amanda took my hand and dragged me from the room and out of the building.

“Hang on,” I said, standing my ground once we were outside where it was relatively quiet. “What did she say? She didn’t look completely happy with the idea.”

<<Of course she didn’t look happy. She knows she’s not going to be fucking you any time soon.>>

“She’s fine. You saw, we hugged it out. She’s fine.” She dragged me a few more yards before I dug my heels in again.

“But what did she say?”

<<Oh, for heaven’s sake, Paul, stop stalling. Just get this bitch naked, you know that’s what you want. It’s what she wants too. Look at her, she’s begging for it. Or she will be, soon.>>

Amanda rolled her eyes. “She said I was to go easy on you. Not be too rough. I mean, as if. All I plan on doing is sucking your brains out through your dick. Now come on.”

<<WHAT?>>

She tugged at my arm, but I held fast.

Suck my brains out through my dick?”

<<That’s what I thought she said.>>

She nodded. “You okay with that? I mean, I’ve had no complaints yet.”

<<She believes it. She really believes it. You’re not going to stand for that, are you? Doesn’t she know who she’s fucking with?>>

I smirked at her. “You really think you’re all that. Don’t you?” I said it in a light-hearted way.

“Baby, I don’t think it. I know it. And I’m going to rock your world. You say your head’s all messed up, right? By the time I’ve finished with you tonight, it’ll be so scrambled, that when you put it back together in the morning, all your problems will be gone. I’m a fucking physiological cure or something. I should be available on prescription!”

<<HA! Nice one. I like this girl. She’s got spunk.>>

“Oh, boy, are you in for a shock.”

“What?”

Suck my brains out through my dick? Scramble my head? What do you think I am? Some sort of virgin?”

<<Lay one on her, Paul. Give her a taste of what’s to come. Oh, wait. She is. Multiple times!>>

I pulled her back to me and hit her with a kiss. Not my best effort. Not yet. Not that thermo-nuclear smacker that felt a girl speechless and powerless before me, but just enough to show her I knew exactly what I was doing. Enough to make her knees shake and belly tremble.

<<That’s the way.>>

“Rock my world?” I said after the kiss left her breathless. “I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll be begging me to stop. Then I’m going to make you pass out with pleasure.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Wanna bet?”

Her eyes lit up. “What kind of bet d’you have in mind?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something. While you’re unconscious.”


We hurried back to Wintersmith where I struggled to work out how to open the outer door with my new keys. Being ever so slightly more than a little tipsy didn’t help. In the end, Amanda snatched the keys from me and opened the door with practised ease—she had lived in this very hall the previous year after all.

No sooner were we in my room, the door slamming shut behind us, than we were all over each other. Lips mashed against lips. Tongues danced and duelled. Hands groped when fingers weren’t fumbling with buttons and zips and clasps in a mad scramble to get us both naked as quickly as possible.

This wasn’t about love. There was no gentle caressing of newly exposed flesh. No tender kisses were lavished upon the skin. This was about passion—the joy of the physical act. Nothing more.

Being the generous soul that I am, I let Amanda attempt to prove that her boasts about her fellatio skills weren’t exaggerated before I set about my self-appointed task of making her pass out. And while my brain most definitely didn’t shoot out the end of my cock, something else certainly did. And in record time too. I’ll give her credit, she was good. Very good. And she took a full load, swallowing down all the salty goodness.

Blowjobs are funny things. Standing naked in the centre of a room with an equally naked woman on her knees in front of you, lavishing attention of your prick, gives a man a feeling of power. Sure, the physical pleasure is great, but it’s the mental rush from that feeling of power as you place your hand on the back of her head that really gets a guy going.

But who really has the power in that situation? How many men have promised the earth as long as she keeps on sucking?

The orgasm she coaxed out of me certainly did scramble my senses—but not nearly as much as she’d bragged it would. I still had enough about me to pick her up, carry her to the bed and set to work.

The thing a lot of guys don’t ever get about women is that every single one of them is different. You can’t use the same technique on all of them and expect the same response every time. Oh, sure, some of the buttons are the same, one hard little button in particular, but even then, some like it to get all the attention, some like it teased, with flighty little touches every now and then having much more of an effect than an all-out assault.

The key is to watch and learn. For example, a couple of days ago, when I brushed Lisa’s anus with my finger, she flinched and pulled away slightly, but I focused back on her pussy and she probably never even noticed her unconscious reaction. But I did.

Whereas when I touched Amanda’s puckered rosebud, she pushed her body towards it, almost as if she was trying to force my finger inside. Clearly, this was a girl who didn’t guard the backdoor as fiercely as some. So I lodged that titbit away for future reference and licked and probed her through her next orgasm—her third, not that I was counting.

After her body finished shaking with a fifth climax (okay, so I was counting), she pushed at my forehead with one hand and propped herself up on the bed with the other. It didn’t exactly count as begging me to stop, but it was close enough for me.

The light from the lamp on the desk twinkled in her dilated pupils. Her breathing was laboured, but she was no more done for the night than I’d been after she’d finished with me.

With a cheeky, challenging smile, she said, “I thought you were going to make me pass out? I mean, that was pretty good and all—very good in fact—but I’m still cognisant enough to use a word like cognisant.” She raised her eyebrows at the end of the sentence.

I grinned. “You really are a nerd, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “What can I say, guys like smart girls. But the point is—”

“The point is, I’m just getting you warmed up.” I climbed up on the bed and crawled on top of her. She opened her legs to let me settle between them and, as my cock easily slipped inside her waiting, welcoming depths, I gave her my best, most passionate kiss.

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