Introduction

Recap: A Demanding Girl

The story of Fiona Holmes and Greg Hollands getting together was told in the short story – A Demanding Girl – that is reprinted here.

"Eat me," she cried. "Them the rules." The blonde girl chuckled and pushed her partner to the ground, removing his glasses from his startled face as he stumbled against the woodland clearing and placed them on the overhanging branch. He yelped as a twig broke against his back and Fiona swung her toned legs over the apprehensive teenager and positioned herself over his mouth. Greg thrashed his legs; it was all very well picking up a wild girl from the exclusive public school but even amongst his classmates, this girl had a reputation for being very demanding in "the sack," which was something that Greg was now discovering.

It all started an hour earlier in the pub, with an innocent smile...

The radiant girl with champagne hair, dressed in a tight top and tartan skirt looked back at him as he drowned his sorrows. His girlfriend of eight months had finished with him earlier in the day, and Greg needed to forget about her; he was on his third pint of strong ale in less than an hour, and well on the way to forgetting that she even existed. He glanced up at the girl sat on the bar, he didn't smile back at her. He knew her, everybody knew her, she was Fiona. She was easily found as she always used her Saturday freedom from her exclusive boarding school to peruse the local village and as she joined him on his table. Her smile broadened. "You've said nothing all afternoon," she said and put her near-empty glass and erotic novel on the chipped table in front of him as she sat down. "You don't look a happy bunny," she suggested and needlessly introduced herself. "Fiona." He stumbled nervously over his words, but the young lady gently teased the reason for his unhappiness from him with her soft, gentle voice. Her reputation did her a disservice: she was unexpectedly warm and friendly, and very far from being the aggressive slut everyone had warned him about.

Fiona was a regular in the Hare and Hounds: it was the only pub which the teachers from her wretched private school wouldn't attend – it was simply too rough for them. "There are several types of girl at that school," she barked when he asked about the educational establishment she attended, and went through a list generalising her classmates. She had put herself firmly in the rational, down-to-earth category which included very few other people, but she was not totally wrong. Her father owned a small company inherited from her grandfather, who himself was the bastard son of a "Lord." Fiona wasn't attracted to money, she liked people and hedonism, and as such she didn't really fit in to the overambitious atmosphere that saturated their school.

At that point in the afternoon, she was also undemanding, happy to buy herself a drink and then challenged him to a game of pool; not caring that her short tartan skirt rode up as she leaned over the table in the smoky pub to reveal her racy red knickers underneath. Greg smiled at the bright lace, winking seductively at him as she sprawled herself over the green baize to take her shots.

Greg gave the seventeen year-old a weak smile as she potted the last ball before he had even managed to pot a single one. "That means you owe me a drink, and ya gotta order it nekkid," she crowed and he chortled at her. Fiona stared at him with her arms crossed and a gleeful smirk. "I mean it." She picked up his wallet from the table and kissed the black leather. "You're not having this back until you do."

The bespectacled teenager pleaded with the blonde-haired girl cackling unkindly. She hummed and watched him squirm, only promising to return his possession if he would strip for her in the woods outside the village. He spluttered and shook his head, but the girl was unmoved and waited until Greg reluctantly agreed to her demands: Fiona wasn't what he expected her to be. She was a very calm, measured girl not the rampant crazy her reputation said she was, but he was regretting that game of pool. He was warned never to mess with her; he was warned she always got her own way in the end, and to stay away from her, but now he had no choice but to play her games. He had fallen into her trap. She finished her drink, grabbed him by the wrist and pushed him out of the smoky pub and into the road.

Greg's heart raced as they climbed the road leading out of the village in the bright afternoon sun. Fiona smiled at him as she straightened her clothes, and slid his wallet seductively between her bosom. His hands trembled with anticipation as they reached the wood; this was her reward for beating him, she reminded him. Her reward for being the better player. He nodded but said nothing. Was stripping naked safe to do in public? Could he be arrested? Fiona walked into a small clearing and backed away, her eyes staring at his body. "Off you go," she smirkingly ordered. "Strip for me."

Greg rubbed his face with his nervous hands, beads of sweat from anxiety and afternoon heat gathering on his forehead. He gripped hold of his belt but Fiona barked at him. He was to do it properly, she warned him. Sexily, and as if he meant it. Anyone could just remove their clothes, he owed Fiona a show. She demanded it.

He nodded and stood nervously, kicking his dirty trainers against the tree, small twigs cracking underneath his sock-clad feet. Fiona's eyes traced his body as she leant against the tree trunk. Waiting. Watching. Staring at him to begin. His trembling hands reached underneath his T-Shirt and he pulled it over his head, exposing his hairless torso to her.

The cool breeze swept through the trees and brushed across his body; he shivered instinctively as it teased his bare skin. "Dance for me," Fiona barked and rubbed her nose, watching as her prey tentatively moved his hips. "Spin," she ordered. "Stroke your body, be sexy." Greg turned away from her, and undid his belt, pushing his faded jeans to the dusty forest floor.

Fiona cackled as he stepped out of the denim garment and turned to face her, shaking nervously. She nodded towards him to keep going. Greg blushed. Could he do this? He looked behind him, searching for anyone to help save him from the expectant woman in front of him. She pushed away from the tree, and started slowly walking towards him, advancing with every step. She was getting closer and he gulped. It was showtime. She looked at him with raised eyebrows. He needed to show her everything.

Nervously, he put his hands in the waistband of his cotton underpants; she was staring into his eyes. "Do it," she ordered. Fiona licked her lips and smiled as Greg pulled down his boxer shorts in the clearing. She felt the cotton land on the floor and she kissed him, first on the lips and then on his nipples.

He shivered at her touch, his body tensing as her cool hands touched him. Her fingers danced over his milky white body, tracing his skin down his torso. She steered around his pubic hair and he groaned at her teasing.

Fiona was sexy; she gave him a lustful look and pouted, sucking on his nipple that caused his body to tingle, from his neck to his balls. "Nice?" She asked with a giggle, and watched as his cock nestled between their bodies. Her eyes twinkled like a night-time sky, as she nodded appreciatively at his excitement. Her experienced touch weaved through his mass of curls and ran along his erect cock; it stiffened instantly as she peered into his gaze. She was testing him; would he flinch as her fingers darted over his sensitive glans, massaging drops of pre-cum into his tip. Would he shy away from her touch? Did he want her?

He grabbed hold of her flanks, pulling her towards him. She smiled; he was ready, and with a fleeting kiss, she sank to her knees, looking up at him as she slipped his erect cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the head. He felt the soft velvety touch of her tongue, sliding up and down his shaft, her hands stroking and sliding over his thighs and his hands stroking her soft hair. He mewed into the afternoon silence.

Greg snorted nasally as Fiona sucked the tip of his sensitive manhood, savouring the pressure she was putting on his glistening cock. Fiona reached down under her skirt and slid her fingers into her moistening panties, applying gentle circles to her lubricious clit. She purred softly, but her underwear was too restrictive on her hands, so she slid her panties and skirt down to her ankles.